#I never should have stopped tbh no matter how stupid it got

[babisawyer]

Dean angrily asking "haven't you ever read the bible?" like make me want your ass more I dare you.

[joontroverted]

hate the way you smile

bully! baji keisuke x popular girl reader

fandom : tokyo revengers

word count : 5.5k

tags : he is a bully (only to you tbh), dubcon, panty kink, he gives you a wedgie lol, pussy eating, anal fingering (just a bit), exhibitionism, groping, stalking (kinda), they are in school for the only purpose of them wearing uniforms, but I've been kinda vague about that because I hate writing high school aus, so you can def imagine them to be in college, all characters are 18+ only

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, IF THESE TAGS DO NOT SUIT YOU, SCROLL

you're not a loser.

quite the contrary actually, you're very popular. 

you joined the school pretty late, which itself was not very common, causing everyone to ogle at you. and judging from the way they treat you, they liked what they saw.

your features and mannerisms captivated everyone, right from the way you walked into class to the little smile you gave after the introduction the teacher forced you into doing. that would've been called cringe on anyone else, but you pulled it off.

keisuke has been waiting for the other shoe to drop, but it never does. 

yeah yeah, you were the shiny new thing when you first walked in. and then you got most of your answers correct in class, no matter when the teacher called on you. most of the answers, that is, because when you got an answer wrong and the teacher corrected you, keisuke finally felt vindicated. that would be the start of the chipping of your bright exterior. 

but no. instead you snorted (and God even your snort was cute) and rolled your eyes, muttering stupid before smacking yourself on the side of the head with the tip of your pencil. that had the class giggling, causing even the teacher to smile as she continued with the rest of the topic. 

what the hell? what was even funny about all this? 

(he watched you tuck your hair behind your ear, with a little lopsided smile on your face as you suddenly realized the rest of the class had heard you. you fanned yourself as if that would blow the embarrassment away somehow, and for just a second your eyes flitted up to his. he turned away immediately.)

"what do you think of the new girl."

“huh?” says mikey stupidly, his eyes trained on takemichi of all people. keisuke shares a look with draken, deciding to get to the bottom of whatever that is, later.

“she has a name, you know,” says draken, stretching, as the three of them are spread out on the bleachers. 

“what, d’you like her or something?”

“very funny,” he replies, rolling his eyes at keisuke. “emma thinks she's really pretty, and you know emma. she immediately went up to her and started chattering away and the next thing you know they have a bubble tea date planned. i think she even dragged takemichi's girl into it.”

“i don't think they're dating,” mikey’s head whips around, finally decided to acknowledge the two of them.

“they hold hands all the time!”

“did both of them come and tell you word for word that they're dating?” says mikey seriously. 

keisuke and draken exchange another incredulous look.

“yeah, that's what i thought” says mikey victoriously. he turns to keisuke. “do you like her?”

“who the hell are we even talking about anymore?”

“the new girl, keisuke, god, how can you forget what you were talking about so quickly?”

“tch. there's nothing to like about her. gave me something to laugh at with that stupid little introduction she gave us on her first day, but she's just another girl. i don't know why everyone's so obsessed with her.”

“she gave me some of her lunch when she saw me sniffing her,” says mikey unhelpfully. “people should start doing that more.”

“you should stop sniffing people,” replies draken, disgusted.

“guess what she smells like!”

“like cocoa butter on some days and like flowers on others,” blurts out keisuke. 

both mikey and draken turn their heads to keisuke.

“that's what all girls smell like, what the fuck!” he retaliates, looking away, his face burning.

“emma doesn't.”

“yeah, and neither does hina. or takemichi,” drawls mikey, squinting at him. “and you're right. she does smell like cocoa butter. i don't know about flowers. but then again, i’m not the one obsessed with her.”

“i'm not obsessed with her!” hisses keisuke. “and keep your voice down, will you, i’m sure the rest of the world heard you!”

“mikey! draken!” a voice calls from the field in front of them. 

they all turn to see it's you, in your skorts and top, visor in one hand and racquet in the other. the skorts (who the hell came up with that mopey idea) seem to hug your waist just right, the shortness of them making your legs look longer. your top is sticking to your skin from all the sweat you had built up from the match you just had, the white becoming almost see through, and he wonders how you’re either actually goddamn stupid or that desperate for attention for you to wear a red bra underneath it.

you wave at them enthusiastically, and you're close enough to them for him to see your eyes land on him, and you give him a little wave too.

mikey and draken wave back. keisuke rolls his eyes and looks away. “fucking of course she plays tennis, how pretentious,” he mutters.

“how come the girl you're obsessed with doesn't give a fuck about you?” snickers mikey as you walk away, surrounded by your group of girls, chattering and laughing. 

“i'm not obsessed with her first of all, and second of all, we don't even know each other because i’m not a serial sniffer like you.”

“maybe you should be,” sniffs mikey, “‘cuz guess what i smell right now?”

“shut the- ”

“a boy in looove,” sing mikey and draken together, bursting into laughter.

walking home, the more he thinks about your tennis uniform, the more he's pissed off. that wouldn't be a regular bra now, would it? probably a sports bra. he imagines you peeling off the tight top in the locker rooms, laughing with the other girls. how the sweat makes it a bit harder to tug off the bra, causing you to flail around a bit, before it comes off fully. he thinks about you basking in the freedom from it for a bit, chest heaving from all the exertion of the game, nipples hardened from the sudden exposure. 

he imagines you bend over and tug off the skorts you were wearing, wondering what panties you had on. would they be red, like your bra? you seem like a stuck up bitch who would make sure of stupid things like that. judging from how snugly the skorts had fit you, your panties would probably be digging into your soft skin, wouldn't they? were your panties riding up your pussy? the thought is quickly followed by the image of tight, red panties wedged up your pussy, he could almost hear you whine as you pulled them down and off of you. he didn't even have to imagine the rest before he broke off into a run to his home so he had some material left to finish himself off.

bad thoughts. these are bad thoughts that are too raunchy and precious for someone as annoying as you. 

(to his utter irritation, it's the small smile you had on your face when you waved at him that pushed him over the edge at the end.)

you're not a loser.

so fuck knows why you're so hellbent on doing the project exactly the way you wanted to, with absolutely no room for creative liberties, no changes in font, and every single time keisuke suggested something he could see you typing up a storm on the group chat. he made sure to see the message, but not read it and then be conveniently offline for the rest of the day. he was sure you would resort to calling him to beg him to not deviate from the color pallete you (and you alone) had decided on. obviously everyone else nodded and went along with your decision. but you hadn't called. 

so here you are, trailing after him. 

“keisuke!”

he groans and keeps walking down the hallway.

“keisuke! i just wanted to let you know that i know it feels like i'm being so restrictive, but all these rules are just for the presentation, like the ppt!” you dodge a couple walking hand in hand and you turn around and wave at them. “you guys are so cute! anyways, keisuke, you have complete freedom over what you want to say during your part of the presentation!”

“ha, so can i talk about my favorite kpop star while the rest of you are talking about the american involvement in the korean war? thanks!” he snorts, striding away.

“i didn't mean whatever you want, i meant you can speak about your portion however you want! the format we've decided on is just for the ppt!” you hurry around a sharp corner he took, still following him.

“we didn't decide anything. you chose the topic, and you chose the format of the ppt,” he grits out.

“well, when we were going around suggesting ideas, everyone seemed to like mine, so they went with it. and you weren't even in the meet!”

he grunts. that was true.

you open your mouth to say something and someone’s calling your name, so you turn around to respond to them. by the time you turn back he's gone again.

“fuck! fuck!” you mutter, adjusting your tote bag over your shoulder. God, he is so irritating. him and how serious he always is about treating you like shit but never taking it all the way. you always feel the prick of his eyes staring at you, and initially you always turned to smile or talk to him, but he'd just look away and outwardly ignore you. 

you had taken to staring back at him, in hopes of him at least taking it as a sign to leave you alone but that hadn't worked either. 

instead, now you know how his silky hair slinks to the front of his face as time passes during classes, and how he absentmindedly gnaws on his pens with his canine teeth. you know how he actually prefers putting his hair up in a high ponytail rather than a low one on the few occasions that he does tie his hair. you know he's actually studying when he’s wearing his red reading glasses. he takes his blazer off often and he's rather ripped, and you're embarrassed to say that you might've asked around why. your classmates said he has a black belt and used to beat people up for fun. 

you can't figure out if that's a joke or not. 

you don’t care that he ignores you, you have enough friends and more than enough people who would pay attention to you. but it kept building and building. everyone said he was a quiet but nice guy. was rowdy when he was younger, but mellowed down and began to focus on school a bit more. you would love to see that side of him, especially now in the crux of the group project. he still had a wild side to him apparently and everyone knew not to mess with him and his loyal set of goons kazutora and chifuyu (who is quite the loser himself), but you'd had just about enough today. you had messaged him that you would like to talk when classes ended, and clearly he didn't give a fuck. 

one last attempt, you promise. one last attempt and then you can boot him off of the project and be at peace again.

remember when you couldn't figure out if they were lying about baji keisuke being a bully or not? well, you're about to find out, because while you're digging through your bag for your history project folder, you don't see the foot sticking out right around the corner you turn.

one minute you're walking on solid ground, the next minute you're in the air and crashing down on it.

your bag provides no security at all, all the books, your cute stationery, the folder, your sanitizer, lip gloss, and all the little trinkets clatter onto the floor, spreading out onto the empty hallway. 

you look up to see golden eyes, framed by dark silky hair staring down at you. 

“what the fuck?” anger rolls through you. “what the fuck, baji?”

“oh, so it's baji now, is it? it was keisuke! keisuke! just a second ago!” he mimics your voice with a laugh.

you're still on your knees on the floor. you look around, and the school is empty, even the last of the people remaining would be downstairs in the cafeteria. 

“lookin’ for all your admirers?” he sneers, bending down to pick up one of your keychains. 

“what do you want from me?” you ask, reaching up to take it from him, but he snatches his hand back. “give it back!”

“you don't have to worry about this,” he says cooly, watching you try to gather all your stuff. you're on all fours, grabbing your things. you're getting nowhere ultimately, everything is far too spread out.

keisuke watches as your skirt hikes higher and higher up, teasing him with little glimpses at your white panties. was that lace on the sides? keisuke almost falls to his knees just from that, as you continue being a stupid slut so obliviously.

“get up!” he snaps and hauls you up with a firm grip on your bicep. “i told you not to worry about that!”

“oh yeah?” you ask, turning to him, your voice raising. “i would love to not worry about this, considering i was just minding my own business! i would love to not worry about the group project but you don't give a fuck!”

he raises his eyebrows, watching you go off on him. you get closer and closer to him, and start pushing him in his chest. “i'd at least like to have a conversation with you, but no, you're such a fucking asshole that you'd rather just stare at me resentfully like a creep instead of actually come up to me and talk to me! but i get it you know, i'd also be so full of hate if i was made to repeat a year but still remained as stupid as i was when i failed!” 

the silence that follows is palpable. 

you don't stand down. for once, there isn't a spec of your usual sweetness or benefit of doubt. you are glaring at him, looking right into his eyes, daring him to respond. 

“so you've been asking around about me, huh?”

“that's rich coming from you. if i see you stare at me one more time, or blatantly ignore me, or disrespect me again, i'll gouge your fucking eyes out!” you hiss, pushing him one final time. you turn around and once again bend over to start collecting your things.

“stop.”

“you are not allowed to- “

“i'll leave you alone if you do this.”

that makes you turn back to him. hurts a lil bit to see you only listen to him so he'd leave you alone, but he’d brought this upon himself. “what do you want,” you spit. 

he stares at you for a moment. you wonder if he's just gonna burst out laughing at how you deluded yourself into thinking that he'd leave you alone, right after he knocked you to the ground like that. his hair's out of his ponytail and his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek, his fangs flashing at you. 

he tilts his head to the side, and gives you a lazy grin. his eyes however, remain serious and trained on you.

“show me your panties.”

you balk, your anger dimming, replaced with confusion. “what?”

he looks serious as ever. he leans forward into your personal space, his hair almost brushing yours. “show me your panties,” he says slowly, as if he were talking to someone stupid, “and i'll consider leaving you alone.”

“con- consider? you told me you'd leave me alone!”

“depends. yes or no?”

“no! no! obviously no!” you're completely flushed, and you try pulling the hem of your skirt down defensively, wishing you hadn't snuck off to the bathroom to roll it up an inch before you came out to talk to him. “i'm not gonna show you my panties!”

he looks at you with a sort of bored but also amused look in his face. 

“do you seriously think i haven't noticed that your skirt's shorter now than it was in class?” he flips the tuck of your shirt up, “ah, there it is. you've rolled your skirt up just to come talk to me.”

“no… no!” you sputter, all the fight in you bleeding out from embarrassment. “i didn't, and i didn't do it for you!”

“i know you want my attention anyways. so let me be clear. either you show me your panties, which seems like you wanted to do that anyways, or i make you show me your panties.” he smiles, so simply and easily as if he's discussing what to get for lunch. “as simple as that.”

you snort. “you're gonna make me show you my panties? and how's that gonna work?” 

he laughs. “easily.”

you shouldn't have asked that, you think. keisuke pushes off the wall he's been leaning on and walks towards you. you walk back, unsure of what to do, your eyes never leaving each others, yours wide in shock and his sharp like a snake. your back hits the wall, and now you've got nowhere to go. 

“like this,” he whispers, and tugs you forward a bit by your belt loops. he then reaches forward, peering above your shoulder, and you stupidly lean forward almost on instinct. his silky hair brushes against your cheek, and for a second, you're lost in the sensation of that and the next moment, you feel his fingers fiddle with the back of waistband of your skirt, untucking it. 

“you tuck your shirt into your panties, huh?” he murmurs, “you're really such a loser.”

“what are you do- ah!”

his fingers are on the waistband of your panties now. and he pulls. the fabric gets pulled up from the back and digs into your ass from his tug. embarrassment floods your body from how humiliating this is, but also from how disgustingly wet you feel yourself getting.

“keisuke! keisuke, please!” you whisper, turning to look at him, but he's still looking over your shoulder. there's no way to conceal his view, because not only is he taller than you but also he can see down into your skirt.

“ah, there she is,” he mutters. another tug. “i don't know why you didn't want me to see ‘em. well, i already did see a bit of them when you were sprawled on the floor on all fours looking helpless, but you can't expect me to be satisfied just from that.”

“keisuke, please, stop it!” you squeal, ears hot. you can't believe he's basically giving you a wedgie, his fingers are in your panties and your out in public, more or less.

“all right then.” your panties snap back in place, stinging a bit. he pushes away a step, hands up. “run along then, little loser.”

you stand still head down, with a humiliating feeling settling in you. you don't want to leave.

he watches you not make a single move to your fallen bag or even to run away. 

“fuck, i knew there was something weird about you! i knew you weren't this sweet little popular preppy princess everyone makes you out to be!” he laughs, his deep voice echoing down the empty hallway. “you're a nasty little whore, aren't you?”

“m'not a nasty whore!” you whine, “i just- “

“fuck am i gonna have my way with you,” he whistles. “i was being polite earlier. turn around.”

“why- “

“talk all you like whore, but i better see you listening to what i say,” he cuts you off. He takes off his blazer, dropping it to the ground and folding his arms. “turn around.”

you turn around, with an inkling of what he's going to do. you stare at the lockers in front you and bite your lip.

“hands on the lockers.”

“what are you go- “

he lifts up your skirt and tucks it deep into the waistband, leaving you panty clad ass completely exposed. the cool air hitting you there directly makes you clench involuntarily and he almost moans from how cute and innocent that looks. he's finally got a good look at your panties. white, fitted cotton panties with a lace trim. it's ridiculous how simple it and how much it manages to choke him up. the back of the panties are still a bit yanked up from where he had pulled earlier, and you're clearly dying from embarrassment based on how low you're holding your head.

well, there's no time to waste.

he grabs onto the waistband at the back of your panties and pulls. the material disappears into your cheeks, digging up and up and up as he pulls, and you almost lose balance from the force of it. “keisuke!” you gasp, your hand coming back for some support. “i- “

“are you stupid?” he snarls, tugging up once more, causing you to jump from how mean he sounds, “or are your hands on the lockers?"

your hands are immediately on the lockers. 

“good girl,” he mutters, “goood girl.” he pulls more and more on your poor panties, and they're crudely rubbing against your hole. your feet almost leave the ground with ever tug he gives, causing you to bounce. you're almost dead with humiliation, but the grinding against your clit and the embarrassment of the whole situation has you so flustered and wrecked.

“i hate you, i hate you, i hate you, keisuke!”

he's so focused on your hot your ass looks, clenched around your panties like that, soft cheeks being put through such torture, and he can't imagine how your puckered little hole must feel from all the abuse it's taking. makes him wanna kiss it better. 

“what is it? you don't like being treated like the little loser you are, huh?” he croons into your ear. “is this not princess treatment enough for you?”

he lets you go all of a sudden, and you almost crumple to your knees, but he catches you and hauls you up, turning you towards him. 

“you havin fun?” he taunts, towering over you. 

“fuck off! you're so mean!” you sniffle, trying to pull your panties down.

“ah ah,” he says sternly, smacking your hands away. “none of that. i'm not done with you. boys!”

the door of the classroom next to you is kicked open and you see kazutora and chifuyu walk out, who follow keisuke like shadows and drank up every word he said loyally.

you glare at keisuke, who has both your wrists in a firm grip in just one hand of his. he grins at them. “told ya she's a slut.”

kazutora snickers, but your eyes remain on chifuyu. he's on the fucking math team with you! you glare holes into his eyes as he looks your way, and his cheeks turn pink, either because it's nerd recognizes nerd or it's because your skirt is tucked all the way up with your entire ass and panties exposed.

keisuke's attention is back on you as he lifts your wrists above your head, pinning them to the lockers behind you. you try to fight him, but it's fruitless. he then tucks the front of your skirt into your waistband too, leaving the front of your panties exposed too.

your panties have a little heart stitched onto the front, your pubic hair peeking out from the lace on the leg holes. 

“now, isn’t she a pretty baby,” keisuke laughs to himself, as your heart flutters a little from that praise. “hold her up for me, boys.”

“what do you mean hold me up?”

kazutora and chifuyu position themselves on either side of you and hold on the sides of your underwear. “chifuyu!” you gasp, turning to look at the boy, who refuses to make eye contact with you, but does what his supreme leader says anyways.

“hey!” keisuke snaps his fingers in front of your face. “you don't focus on anyone but me, kay?”

you narrow your eyes.

he squishes both your cheeks with one hand, making your lips pucker out. “answer.”

“okay, okay,” you whimper, breaking eye contact. 

“eyes on me, sweetheart. i'm gonna let go your hands now. if you try anything, you're gonna find out cute you look with a smack on your face, got it?”

your eyes turn watery as you look into his, lips pushing into a pout. “got it,” you mutter.

“there's my girl. now let's see what we have here.” and with that he sinks to his knees, till he's face level with your panties. he places his big hands on the outside of either thigh, running them up and down for a moment, sending shivers up your spine. he grips your thighs and watches his nails sink into your fatty flesh, and how you gasp at the pain that feels so good.

he leans forward and places a kiss on your mound, and then goes lower and places another firm kiss on your clit. the little whimper you give spurs him on. he pushes his nose between your lips and sniffs, groaning to himself. 

“fuck that's good pussy,” he presses his nose alone the slit and goes up and up until it meets your clit and he presses down as his lips comes up to rub your pussy through your panties. his nose rubbing on your clit has you moaning, as if there aren't two of your classmates holding you up by your panties, your legs weak. 

“gimme those hands,” he demands, his voice rough. you place your hands in his gingerly. he places a gentle kiss on both of them, so uncharacteristic to the situation you are in, and how he's been treating you. “i'm gonna give you a very important job, got it?”

“uh huh,” you whisper.

“you're gonna hold my hair up while i eat your pussy through your panties, okay? i don't wanna be missing a moment of it because of my hair getting in the way”

you almost short circuit. you stare at him dumbly, and are brought back to the moment when he places a sharp right onto your pussy lips.

“yes! yes!” you nod, and with your painted pink nails, you gently push back his hair and hold it in a ponytail. “this okay?”

he nods, and gives you a little wink. you gulp and look away.

“all right, we're back to business,” he mutters, going back down to your pussy. “hold ‘em higher for me.”

kazutora and chifuyu (whom you'd almost forgotten about from the previously somewhat sweet moment) pull your panties higher from the sides, making you gasp as they dig into your pussy this time.

keisuin prods and pushes at your pussy lips. he pushes the leg holes of your panties closer and closer together, little by little before he yanks on the top your panties suddenly, causing them to slip between your lips and tug up to your clit.

“ah! keisuke! that's really- “

“c'mon boys hold her higher for me, will ya? i don't mind if your bounce her for me. pussy's so wet just from all this panty action, let’s see how sensitive her little clit is, huh?”

he's talking over you like you're some thing. the boys pull you higher this time, and you can't help but marvel at the strenth of your panties for a hot second before bliss shoots up your body as the crotch of your panties rub against your clit, and you're finally getting some good direct action. 

keisuke watches the wet spot in your panties grow bigger and bigger as your panties dig deeper into your clit, your fat pussy lips hang out from either side of the thin bunched up material and your knees knock together from how horny you are and how desperately you're trying to squeeze for more friction. all while you diligently hold his hair back. even in this debauched state, you're adorable. his dick is straining against his pants, he unbuckles them and frees himself, his mouth watering as he dives right in.

panties riding up to the maximum level, he laps up against them, tasting your juices. he spreads your lips even further, making sure there's no room whatsoever for you to escape and you whine and kick. his eyes almost roll back to his skull and his soul ascends when his tongue comes in contact with the slick and gummy insides of your pussy, clenching around both him and your panties. he's growing jealous of your panties now.

“change of plans,” he says, gruffly, “hold her up by her legs, and if you drop her, i swear to god, you're dead.”

chifuyu and kazutora are quick to follow, as they each take one leg and lift you up, holding you open and ready for keisuke, but this time with your entire pussy directly facing him. you wail at the sudden change, but to no one's surprise you're ignored.

keisuke pushes your panties to the side and can finally see your pussy in all it's glory. your cute little bush and your gaping pussy from all the edging it has taken a minute ago. he rolls his saliva around in his tongue and then spits a glob of his spit right onto your pussy. you clench at the feel of how lewd it is, the warm, thick saliva coating your vagina and sliding down, dripping from your asshole. it's disgusting, but it feels so good. 

he pushes his entire face in, slurping and swallowing all you have to offer. you're glad that the two are holding you up, because you're too fucked out to even feel the tips of your toes, let alone stand. through all this, you make sure to hold his hair back, because you don't want him to be mad at you.

a finger presses on your asshole and you quiver with shock, snapping out of your daze. “kei- kei, keisuke, not there, not!”

you babble stupidly, passed the point of coherence, as keisuke lets you bounce a little on his fingertip dipping in and out of your puckered little hole, while he slurps up your perfect little pussy, sucking and flicking your clit. 

“‘m gonna cum! ‘m gonna cum!” you sob, kicking your feet a bit, like the spoiled little thing you are. 

“cum baby. i've got you,” he mutters, as he reaches up one hand to give your tits a hard squeeze. that's the final straw for you, as you finally let go, nipples aching, pussy tingling and asshole prodded open. you come on his mouth and he eagerly drinks up every last drop, jerking himself faster and faster. 

“bring her down,” he groans, and the lower you down to the floor, still holding you and keeping you spread. you look up him, your mouth agape as you watch him fist himself and push himself to the edge, cumming all over your face. at first you're taken aback, but then you just sink into the feeling of the hot cum drizzling all over your face dripping down… it almost feel therapeutic.

god. you really are a whore. and a loser.

you sigh. 

“oi, go pick her stuff up, and put it in her bag. nicely, like in however cute way she usually does it.”

you're gently set on the ground, on your hands and knees, shaking slightly. you see kazutora and chifuyu walk away and start gathering your stuff up off of the floor. keisuke kneels down to you, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket. he pushes you slightly onto your knees and wipes the cum off of your face so gently and so sweetly, you could've mistaken it for your sweetheart wiping your wet face after a running home on a rainy day.

“you okay?” he asks.

you blink. “are you happy?”

“huh?”

“are you happy that you finally got to debase me and see me as a person and not some shiny new thing?”

“to be honest, you were a shiny thing till i wiped all the shininess away right now.”

you smack him on his chest with the back of your hand.

“i'm sorry,” he says looking into your eyes. “i just… um. have a crush on you that was so overwhelming that i wanted to, well, debase you,” he mutters. 

you laugh, and scratch your face. “whoa, i totally had no clue whatsoever.”

“is your face still sticky? tora, she has some wet wipes in her bags, toss ‘em over.” the wet wipes fly into his hands, and he pulls one out, wads it up and starts cleaning you up again. 

“how did you know i have wet wipes in my bag?”

“maybe i’ve looked through it before. maybe i haven't, who knows?” he shrugs, not looking at you, suddenly extremely concentrated on the area near your eye. 

“when did you even- ”

“i might also have memorized your schedule, and all the classes you take. oh, and i also need your panties from today.”

he gets a slap in the face for that.

this was 2.5k words longer than it was supposed to be. i'd love to hear what you think of it 😇

likes, comments, asks and reblogs HIGHLY APPRECIATED ❤️

read my other tokyo revengers fic!

kiss it better (ran haitani)

dividers by the super creative @anitalenia you can tell, I'm kinda obsessed 🌟

[trensu]

have another snippet of stasis in darkness! just 'cuz i'm bored tbh, and kinda stuck on all my wips i'm currently working on.

The seventh night:

“Has he spoken to you yet?”

“How could he when you’re here yammering my ear off every night?”

“He’s a god, I’m sure it wouldn’t be that hard for him to shut me up.”

“Even gods have their limits.”

“Oh, har har. The warrior’s got jokes. You didn’t answer my question.”

“...not yet,” Steve said stiffly. 

“It’s been how long now? A week?” The man hummed in a falsely thoughtful manner. “Maybe he’s just not that into you, man. Maybe he’s letting you down easy.”

At his words, Steve involuntarily curled his shoulders inward, slightly, ever so slightly, in defense. He'd been wondering that same thing earlier that day. Steve had toiled hours in the sun to fix up the shrine; to make it welcoming; to encourage a divine visit. 

He had stopped wearing his armor to free up more time to work. Putting it on and taking it off took too long, and he didn't have to maintain it as much if he wasn't wearing it regularly. He stuck to only his chainmail. He'd kept his shield stored away, too, so it wouldn't get in the way while he worked. Though, he made sure to keep his sword nearby.

He’d taken his knife and traced over the etchings of stars in the alcove that served as a backdrop to the statue. His knife had been ruined but it didn't matter. The Lord of Night would probably want the stars of his dark sky with him, he reasoned, and these had worn so thin. Sadly, it was the only detail he could bring out of all the stone. The statue’s face was so crumbled that Steve couldn’t even begin to guess what it had originally looked like.

He had discovered that the vines he chose to keep were moonflowers. They had blossomed every night since he’d removed the other more invasive plants. He'd draped them carefully so they lay across the statue's shoulders, wrapped lovingly around its torso and clung to its waist before the ends of the vines trailed off at the knees. 

The strange man might have made himself a nuisance during his visits but he never stayed the whole night. Steve had been able to get a few hours of makeshift prayers at the shrine every night. He’d done all this, yet dawn broke every day without a single sign that the Lord of Night had been listening.

“Warrior?”

Steve broke out of his reverie. He refused to look at the man. He had to clear his throat roughly before he could speak.

“It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve been rejected by someone I love." Steve tried not to dwell on his father's perpetual scowl and his mother's infinite disinterest. "I’m pretty used to my devotion being one sided by now.”

“That’s a bummer,” the man said. His sympathy was meant to be teasing, Steve could tell, but it came out surprisingly sincere. “Good thing you have a whole pantheon! Strong guy like you? Any god would take you to be their warrior in a heartbeat.”

“What are you talking about? No, I’m nowhere near done with his shrine,” Steve said determinedly. “I know a silversmith and a stone mason who’d give me a hand, and Dustin and Robin have been dying to come up here to bring him offerings. The only reason they didn’t come with me is because I had to do the pilgrimage on my own if I wanted a shot at earning his blessing.”

The man spluttered.

“Are you insane? A god rejects you and you’d come back? What kind of stupid–were you dropped on your head as a child?

“A couple times, but that doesn’t have anything to do with it.”

“Are you sure? Have you checked? You should go to one of the gods of medicine. Owens, maybe. Have him take a look at your head,” the man huffed in frustration. "For stars' sake, why would you want to come back?"

He ignored the insult to his intelligence. For stars' sake. Steve murmured the words to himself, letting them settle in his mouth to get a feel for them. He'd never heard of that one before. He liked how it rolled off the tongue, natural as anything. 

The man waited for his response. Steve took a moment to try to sort out his words. He kept his head bowed towards the shrine as he ruminated.

“People barely remember my god,” Steve finally said. “And when they do, they remember him as something he’s not. Even if he doesn’t believe I’m worthy of carrying his crest, he shouldn't be forgotten.” 

The man said nothing. Steve took a shuddering breath before the quiet could take over. 

“Having someone forget you is…it’s very lonely. Which is the worst feeling. I…I guess I don’t want him to be lonely anymore.”

The silence that followed his statement stretched long enough that Steve started falling into that meditative state he’d learned during his many nights at the shrine. It helped dull the twisted up, unsteady sensation that lingered from the man’s prodding at his every self-doubt and fear.

“He hasn’t rejected you yet, though,” the man broke Steve's musings awkwardly.

“He hasn’t reached out to me either. It’s fine. I’ll keep coming either way.”

Another silence. It was around the time the man usually left Steve to his worship. He didn't hear retreating footsteps. Instead, the man cleared his throat, and when Steve looked up at him, the man turned his face away, shrouding it in gloom.

“Maybe he’s nervous. Maybe that’s why he hasn’t contacted you yet.”

“Nervous? No way.”

“He sounds like a godly weirdo,” the man said. “Maybe he’s never had a holy warrior before and doesn’t know what to do.”

“He’s the good kind of weirdo! And there’s no way he’s not had a warrior carry his symbol. He must’ve had loads back in the day. I probably don’t meet his standards,” Steve smiled lopsidedly, playing off his insecurity.

“I’m serious!” the man exclaimed. “It’s possible! Some gods never get warriors. Some never want them at all!

“Look, even if I was the first to offer to be his, he’d know he didn’t have to be nervous,” Steve insisted. "I’ve never served a god before either! I wasn’t sure I could have faith at all until I learned about him. So like, if he’s new to it then so am I, and we’d figure it out together.”

“...you really mean that, don’t you? You’d let him make it up on the fly if he took you on.”

“Well, yeah,” Steve shrugged.

“You’d keep coming back even if he rejected you?”

“Yep.”

“But why? That’s so stupid. Nobody would do that!” The man sounded frustrated.

“I’m not really known for my smarts,” Steve said matter-of-factly. “Robin and Dustin had to translate the only book we found about the Lord of Night because I definitely wouldn't have been able to. It was a tiny book but it still took them ages to do because the language doesn’t really exist anymore. So they told me it’s possible it’s not accurate. It felt true, though, to me. 

“There was this quote, I can’t recite it word for word, but…it was something about how monsters don’t always look monstrous, and the monstrous aren’t always things to be feared.”

“That sounds ridiculous,” the man protested. Steve shook his head.

“No, it’s true! Like, I know I’ve got a pretty face and really great hair,” he smirked when he heard the man scoff, “but I was such a fucking asshole when I was younger. I went around hurting people on purpose, tearing them down for no reason other than I was hurting too, and that’s the shittiest reason to hurt anyone. I had to get some sense knocked into me by the people I call friends now. 

“My friends are the greatest people I know, and I’m really lucky to have them, but to everyone else? My friends are losers. They’re rejects because they don’t act right or they don’t look right; they talk too much or too loudly. People treat them like shit because they're different. 

“And after I noticed that, I started seeing it more even if I don’t always pick up on it. And I still mess up sometimes. I'm not a god, I can't change the world but…in the stories Robin and Dustin translated, the Lord of Night helped people like my friends because it was always the weak and rejected that try to hide themselves in the dark. I want to help those people find him again so they know they’ve got someone holy in their corner. They should know someone loves them enough to protect them.”

Steve didn’t really know where all those words came from; he wasn’t a wordsmith like Robin and Dustin. He always had a hard time verbalizing his thoughts, and he usually messed up the words. Nonetheless, these words had almost burned to be said. 

When the speech that flowed from him finally reached a natural end, he felt…lighter, cleaner. He felt like his shield and sword when they were polished to a shine. But when he turned to see his audience’s reaction, the man had gone. Steve felt strangely dejected instead.

–

The eighth night:

“Hey, it’s me again. My supplies are low and I don’t know what your thoughts about hunting on your land are so I’d rather not…I don’t want you to think I’m disrespecting you. I might have to leave soon to get more supplies,” Steve swallowed nervously. “Which isn’t an ult..ultimate…? No, damn, what is it called? I’m not trying to force you to talk to me before then, is what I mean. Not–not that I could! With you being a god.” 

Steve scoffed at his own blundering. He should’ve had Robin help him make speech notes. Cards with conversation starters. Something! He took a deep breath and tried again.

"But I'm coming back, I promise. I meant what I said about fixing up your shrine. I’ll commission a new plaque and I’ll talk to the stonemason about replacing your plinth. I don’t know a lot about sculpture, but I’ll get you the strongest type of stone and get something nice carved on it. Your flowers? Or cats? Cats are cute. Maybe your bats would be better…?” Steve trailed off.

It was quiet save for the faint rustle of leaves in the cool breeze. The full moon illuminated the area more than ever before. The shrine must have really been a beautiful sight back in its heyday. The thought of it sent a pang of longing through his soul.

The hour came that the strange man usually showed up. Steve steeled himself for another round of questions, another jab at his faith. The hour went by with Steve alone in the clearing. Steve frowned.

“Do you think he’s okay?” 

Steve’s question went unanswered.

After another hour without seeing his stranger, Steve had finally convinced himself to round the perimeter for a quick check in case the man was nearby or in need of assistance. When he found nothing, he checked again in case he missed something. 

Still nothing. Uneasily, Steve gave up his search and returned to the shrine. He knelt before it again, head bowed. He cleared his throat.

“Lord of Night, I don’t know his name, and I know he’s been rude–annoying–but could you please watch over the man? Please keep him safe from harm for as long as the stars shine tonight. Thank you.”

He received no response, but Steve had faith. He knew he was heard. He knew his god wouldn’t let an innocent come to harm if he could prevent it.

ps: i do not do those reader tag list things. if you’d like to keep up with my stuff, follow my writing tag: trensu tells stories

[imjustdreamingig]

Run Away

Pairing: Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Summary: You were never a shy person, until it came to talking to the boy you liked.

A/N: Well, this is my first time writing something like this so... please be nice. I was kinda tired of only seeing shy!reader stuff so I decided to base this on my personality. So yeah, kind of based on a true story. What reader does in this story I've actually done in real life which is mortifying. Anyways!!! This is just edited by me so lmk how I can improve and if I should write a part 2??? Maybe?? Idk. Enjoy!

PS: Robin and Steve work together, nothing monstery has happened, they're all in the same grade. It's a bunch of dumb teenagers together battling high school.

Warnings: sfw, cursing, fluff? people being dumb?? idk what else tbh

You've never considered yourself to be a shy person. In fact, you were very much so extroverted, never finding qualms in chatting to your classmates or asking you're teacher questions in class that some may think are stupid. You didn't care.

Aside from being a little nervous back in elementary school, that trait had dissolved as you got older, and it definitely wasn't present at the moment during your senior year at Hawkins High.

However. As much as you liked to claim to be unbothered with public speaking and your ability to make friends easily, there was one thing that you couldn't just quite get over, no matter how hard you tried. And quite frankly, it was getting old and ridiculous.

"Fuck, Robin he's coming down the hall," you exclaimed, "move, move, move, move!"

You didn't bother checking if she was behind you, already knowing she would be as you practically ran to your second period class. It was the first day of the new semester anyways, you could use the excuse of wanting to get good seats to justify your cowardice to yourself later tonight.

"Jesus Christ," you heard Robin mutter as she finally caught up to you, "You know I have asthma, I cannot keep doing this every time you so much catch a glimpse of Steve."

You slowed down your pace, your heart not feeling as though it would burst out of your chest anymore. You still sported a slight flush on your face from the thought of the almost encounter you had with the jock.

"I know, I know, this is getting so stupid. I promise next time I'll talk to him, I swear," you said as you sighed forlornly.

Robin turned to you with an unimpressed stare. "That's what you said last time, and the time before that, and the time before that, and yet here we are," she waved her hands dramatically.

Here's your problem. An issue that is a complete juxtaposition of your usual personality. The moment you've ever realized you have a crush on someone, you would run away from them anytime you saw them. Literally. You would full on sprint away in the opposite direction.

You've never really understood why this happens, only knowing that the second you saw your current crush, you're usual non existent nerves would make a prevalent appearance. You'd freeze and your eyes would widen as your brain chose the flight response when confronted with a potential dangerous situation.

"Look dingus, I love you and I think you're awesome and all that, blah blah blah, but this has got to stop," Robin stated as you both took your seats in your English class. "You're embarrassing me just as much as you're embarrassing yourself and our social status cannot take that much more of a beating."

You knew she was joking but just grunted in response, having buried your face in the crook of your elbow, not even bothering to open up your notebook. You heard Robin sigh and could tell she was rolling her eyes at you.

"You know..." Robin started, "I could always just...talk to him for you? Give him you're number or something during our shift at-"

Your raised your head immediately, almost giving yourself whiplash. "Robs, no way. We've talked about this before! I just - this situation is already awkward as it is, that would just make it worse."

"Hey, I'm just trying to help, but if you wanna suffer some more that's totally your choice." Robin says as she shrugs her shoulders. "Besides, with all that running your doing, at least you're getting some cardio in."

You let out as surprised squawk. "Robin come on! Not funny!" She doesn't reply, merely continuing to laugh at you. All you did was just groan in response again, settling your head in your arms once more.

A few weeks ago, you had been walking to your locker whilst attempting to shove a bunch of textbooks into your bag at the same time. Obviously, everything fell and it just so happened that Steve was nearby and helped you out.

"Oh my God, you don't have to, it's totally fine," you'd stammered, just the tiniest bit embarrassed of dropping your books in the middle of the crowded hallway.

"Don't sweat it, it happens to the best of us." Steve chuckled as he handed you your notebook.

And then it happened. The event that you frequently replay over and over in your mind, the event that kickstarted the affections you had for the boy.

Once everything was stored safely in your bag, Steve stood up and wiped his hands on his jeans. He then turned his attention to you and simply offered you his hand to help you up.

You stared into his big, brown eyes, completely dumbfounded. Here he was, an average man doing the absolute bare minimum and yet you still found yourself practically falling at his feet, your heart feeling as thought it was going to beat out of your chest.

"I- uh, I mean, thanks for the hand Steve," you stammered as you tentatively took his hand and pulled yourself off the floor. You cringed when you felt that it was sort of shaking and kind of clammy, hoping Steve wouldn't notice. "Both literally and figuratively."

You wanted nothing more than the ground to swallow you up after you blurted out those words. To your surprise, Steve let out a laugh, a genuine laugh. His eyes sort of crinkled and you could see the slight indent of a dimple. As if the man needed to get any more attractive in your eyes.

"It's no problem at all," he reassured you. "I'll be seeing you." He gave a quick wave and then turned in the direction of the cafeteria. Your hands tightened on the straps of your backpack as you watched him walk away, admiring the view.

Oh ew, you suddenly thought to yourself, now that was just pathetic.

Ever since that moment, you couldn't give yourself that last push you needed to talk to him. Even after the multitude of pep talks you give yourself in the mirror, including the ones from Robin, you still always ran away whenever you saw him.

You'd be a fool to think he didn't notice it and prayed he didn't mistake it for you hating him or something.

The sound of the bell signaling the start of class pulled you from your misery, forcing you to pay attention to your teacher so you didn't face the consequences of falling behind so early in the term.

Amidst your groveling, you'd failed to notice a particular brunet enter the class and take a seat at a desk a few rows behind you. Who knows what your reaction would have been if you did. Robin just kept her mouth shut, simply winking in Steve's direction when she caught his eye.

"Alright class, settle down and listen up," your teacher began. "I know it's the first day of the semester, but I wanted to introduce an assignment before anything else to make sure you have enough time to complete it and do an excellent job."

The entire class let out a collective groan, yourself included. How could she already be giving out assignments when she hasn't even properly introduced herself?

You turned to Robin, brows furrowed in annoyance. "I think she's got her agenda mixed up, she's introducing things in the wrong order."

"Fuck this, I should've taken Eddie's warning more seriously. Now I understand why everyone hates her," Robin gripped, running a hand through her cropped hair, already looking a little stressed.

You nodded in agreement and added, "I think I get why people hate English so much too."

Robin laughed. "But you'll still love it anyways, won't you?" she chided. Before you had a chance to reply, your teacher began speaking again.

"Settle down, please! If you listen, you'd hear that this not due until the last month of the semester and you'll be working in partners," she stated, "so not only will you have plenty of time to work on it, but you'll also have some help." You and Robin glanced at each other, hopefully smiles tugging at both of your faces.

"Your partners will be assigned by me," the whole class collectively groaned again, "which is what I'll be doing as we get through attendance. I'll explain the criteria before moving on."

"Yep, I think I hate this class at least a little bit now," you complained to Robin, already making a mental checklist of what school stuff you should at least start on later in the afternoon.

"-ohn Gilmore, Phoebe Burton, partners. Steve Harrington, Y/N Y/L/N, partners. Billy Holden, Rob-"

You froze for a second, as if you were glitching. Steve was in... this class? There was no way, you would have absolutely noticed him. But as you snuck a glance behind you, sure enough there he was, sitting in his chair, mindlessly twirling a pencil through his fingers. To your surprise, he was actually looking back at you too and- wait hold up, was he smirking?

You immediately spun back around, hand lurching to grip onto the sides of your desk. You then blinked a couple of time, praying your face wasn't as red as you felt like it was.

"Nope, nope, absolutely not. No thank you," you said as you shook your head from side to side. "Miss, this is a joke right?" you inquired out loud.

You were eventually going to talk to Steve, you were sure of it. The day was coming where you could have some sort of a conversation with him without running away, you could feel it. The moment was almost here.

Today, however, was absolutely not that day.

Just when you were about to complain to you teacher out loud again, you feel a presence behind you.

"Oh come on, you're already dismissing me as a terrible English partner? I'm wounded, seriously." The voice was laced in amusement. You did not need to turn around to know who it belonged to.

Before you could even think of a response, Robin turns to you, clearly finding your horror to the situation hilarious, and says, "Well, I think you're going to hate this class a little bit too."

Well fuck.

[dib-thing-wannabe]

I WATCHED THE PILOT FOR THE AMAZING DIGITAL CIRCUS AND OH MY GOD I CANNOT STOP THINKING ABOUT IT-

(No spoilers under cut, just me going insane)

THE IMMEDIATE EXISTENTIAL CRISIS FROM POMNI WHEN SHE ARRIVED?? THE ALREADY DEEP SEATED LORE ABOUT NOT BEING ABLE TO ESCAPE?! ALL THE POSSIBLIES ABOUT WHAT COULD, CAN, AND SOMETIMES EVEN W I L L HAPPEN!!

If you have been a follower or a mutual of mine for some time now, you wouldn't be surprised to hear that Jax is what got me into it originally, nor be surprised that I am thinking about him the most out of the cast. What probably will surprise you is what I'm thinking about exactly.

What I'm thinking about is what will be done with him in the story. Will he be considered a villain? Will he be considered a good guy, despite him being a bully to the other casts? Does he know more than the others at the circus does? Who knows!! He has the potential for everything!

Something that I am struggling though is what headcannons I should have for him though-

He definitely is one of us fruits, but my question is which one?? He definitely seems like he could be mlm, especially with the energy he gives off. But I cannot stop thinking of transfem Jax no matter how hard I try not to- Because, like, I can totally see it being 100% canon!!

Just imagine the angst potential involving it, because he probably wouldn't know what he's experiencing and he might think that he's starting to extract! But yet the gender disphoria (idk if that's how it's spelled, but you'll get what I mean if it's spelled wrong) was always there for him, even before he joined the circus! And some of you probably know that Goose themselves have started to think about having Jax wear a dress in future episodes, and hooo boy, am I having thoughts about that!!

Imagine this: For the latest adventure, Jax is made to wear a dress, as a disguise. He is just complaining about it the entire time, not even going to look at himself as he's wearing it as he "probably looks silly and stupid in it". Once the adventure is over, he stomps away from everyone to go and take it off, feeling as if he was being made a fool of by them, even though they had been complimenting the way he looked the entire time (even if some of the compliments had laughter in them). In a similar fashion to the scene where Pomni stopped in front of the mirror when she saw herself in the digital circus for the first time, Jax walked passed a mirror and decided to take a look to "see what they were making fun of". When he looked at himself while he was still wearing the dress, he couldn't help but stare at himself. He thought, for the first time in forever, that he didn't just look good, that he looked right. There's wasn't any other way to explain it. He just looked right. He looked and felt like he was what he ever wanted to since he was a little kid. He twirled a little in the dress, making sure to get a good look at himself as he's wearing it, not being able to help but just softly smile at himself as his eyes were majorly dilated. This goes on for a few minutes before his first moment of gender efforia (again, don't know how to spell it-) is interrupted by Pomni and Cain, who were going to see if he was done with getting dressed. Cain just simply says something along the lines of "Wow, you finally decided to take a look at yourself, Jax? My, I thought we would never see the day!" Which results in an embarrassed scoff from Jax as he rolled his eyes at him. But Pomni saw that he was actually happy with the way he looked like never before, and tells him that he could wear dresses more often if it made him happy. He acts like he was deeply insulted by it and said that he wouldn't ever even think of doing this again, but later on he starts wearing dresses in his free time (where no one could see him, of course) (Except for Pomni, she'd probably help him pick out the dresses tbh).

If anyone wants to draw the little imaginary scene I made up, do it!! Draw it! Just tag me in it so I can see it!

[anticomedygarden]

how do they feel about the idea that the tomato is a fruit?

Tbh any hoo character that comes to mind strongest but if you need a specific idea I choose Hazel

I love this prompt! tysm 😍

y'all I did research on this one

-

Hazel had never given much thought to the tomato debate. They weren't her favorite to begin with, but she also just didn't have much opportunity to be around them. Growing up Black in the South in the Depression between two world wars with a mother only willing to spend her money on the finest of fineries didn't leave much room for tomatoes. Living in Alaska during wartime? Hell, no. She preferred to leave produce arguments to farmers, anyways.

Until she became a praetor.

"It's a vegetable!" a red faced son of Apollo, Thomas, yelled, standing guard in front of the Tiber.

"It's a fruit!" the brown haired daughter of Ceres screamed back. Hazel thought her name might be Molly.

Both teens were completely decked out in armor and weapons having come off guard patrol a few minutes ago, already fuming over the red food, long enough for Bailey, Camp Jupiter's newest recruit, to come get Hazel. She had been slogging away at a stack of paperwork, so she wasn't complaining.

By the time they'd returned to Thomas and Molly, the argument had escalated to a full on stand off.

The son of Apollo raised his spear. "Vegetable!"

The daughter of Ceres gripped her sword. "Fruit!"

"Okay!" Hazel said, finally stepping forward, her own gladius held out in front of her. "What is going on?" There was not a world or time Hazel thought she would ever exist in in which two people could have such strong opinions on tomatoes.

Unfortunately, that world and time did exist, and she was currently standing in it. Both Thomas and Molly erupted into bitter accusations, voices pitched so high Hazel had no hope of understanding them.

She closed her eyes and thought of a simpler, quieter time, years away from this weird tomato hell. Sadly, when she opened her eyes, she wasn't ethereal.

"One at a time," she said.

Thomas waved a hand at Molly, apparently ceding first speaker rights. She took a deep breath and began, "We were doing guard duty and somehow got on the topic of food, and he-" she pointed "-said tomato is a vegetable. Obviously, that's wrong, which I told him, and he went insane."

"I did not 'go insane,'" Thomas said, putting air quotes around 'go insane.' "I explained why tomatoes are a vegetable, and she told me to 'stop being stupid, stupid.'"

Now, Hazel was a reasonable young demigod. She knew that in matters of agriculture, she should trust the child of Ceres. She also knew that these two in particular had been getting into a lot of fights lately despite having been close friends for a while. That meant either something had happened between them or it was the teenage version of hair pulling. However, since it seemed that Molly had said the inciting line this time (and Hazel kinda wanted to see where this was going now), she couldn't in good faith just declare that Molly was right.

Hazel calmly turned to Molly. "Molly, why do you think tomatoes are a fruit?"

The other girl crossed her arms. "'Cause they are."

"Ha!" Thomas exclaimed. "She can't come up with anything."

Before Hazel could give him a thorough admonishing, Molly smirked. "Oh, I can come up with plenty, but I wouldn't want to make you look stupid."

Thomas' face somehow got even redder. "Come on-"

"For starters, fruit come from the flowering part of the plant-"

"We don't eat flowers-"

"Of course, the flower just serves as attraction. The actual fruit comes from the plant's ovaries, which is what a tomato is."

Hazel was watching the fight so intently that she completely missed the mention of the reproductive organ, though she did glance around to make sure there were no kids anywhere.

Thomas stared. "Then what are vegetables?"

Molly rolled her eyes. "Any other part of the plant."

"What about pumpkin?"

"Fruit."

"Cucumber?"

"Fruit."

Thomas threw his hands up in the air, disturbingly mindless of the spear in his right hand. "Oh my gods!"

Hazel had to admit that this was starting to get a bit ridiculous.

Molly levelled a glare at Thomas. "Got something to say?"

The son of Apollo shifted. "Nutritionists and culinary-"

"Ha!" Molly scoffed. "Cause nutritionists and culinary artists know so much about botany."

Hazel continued to stand in between the two, quickly becoming less and less sure of herself. This was so far out of her depth, yet somehow seemed so high stakes. It wasn't just the tomatoes' fate she had to decide, but pumpkin, cucumber, and presumably all other juicy, seedy vegetable/fruit.

She tried to imagine what her friends would say.

"Listen to the child of Ceres," Annabeth would say. "Fruit is ovary, and tomato is fruit."

"It's squishy and seedy," Percy would say. "It's a fruit."

"There's no real taste," Frank would say. "Vegetable."

"It's low in sugar," Will would say. "It's a vegetable, and a good source of lycopene and vitamin C."

"I don't care," Nico would say. "Leave me alone."

She took too long. Without her noticing, Molly had managed to grow a medium beefsteak tomato in her hand not holding the dagger, and in one smooth motion, lobbed the thing at Thomas' head. "Eat ovary, dumbass!"

Mesmerized, Hazel watched the tomato sail through the air and land on Thomas' face. Molly should be proud of herself; the firm fruit didn't burst on impact, but instead slid to the ground where it sat, vibrantly innocent.

She decided now was the time to be a Praetor. "Seriously, guys, come on." She looked at Thomas. "Go to the infirmary and get an ice pack." Then, she turned to Molly. "And you're on stable cleaning duty for two weeks. And both of you, apologize."

Molly and Thomas both looked at her, and she sighed. "Does it matter?"

"Yes!"

She barely restrained herself from rolling her eyes. Ultimately, the decision was easy. Rare memories of biting into the sweet, rubbery food, juice and seeds filling her mouth, spilling out the corners and running down her chin in the summer heat of New Orleans and later under the gentle Alaska sun, filled her mind.

"It's a fruit," she said.

"Yes!" Molly clapped at the same time Thomas said, "Aw, come on."

Later, when Frank found the paperwork for the tomato incident (as Hazel had taken to calling it), she had to laugh at the confusion that covered his face as he held it up for her to see. "Um, what?"

She took his hand in what she hoped was a comforting gesture. "You don't want to know."

[houseofbrat]

They should have never let Catherine take the blame for the photo altering. Even if she did alter it herself, it only adds to everyone’s suspicion. I think she felt the need to put a photo out quickly and it backfired. Why didn’t the RP cover for her photo blunder?

Right. Literally anything would’ve been better than her of all people personally taking the fall for this! William would’ve been better, a random, unnamed intern would’ve been better, one of the kids fucking with the computer lmao idk. Just such a strange strange tweet to send out.

Someone should call KP and tell them we’re on mega thread #4 over here and we can’t have our mods getting sick from the “stress and fallout”, so just trot her out for a second or an audio message or even just a true statement sans doctored photos. And if she’s too unwell for that well gee maybe a smidge of transparency would gain them public support back . Nobody wants her medical info , just them to stop acting shady and disrespectful.  She can have her privacy and also stop the shiftiness and theatrics.  Unlike Reddit mods, the BRF gets paid. 

I think Kate is refusing to play ball. It's entirely possible she's had setbacks in her recovery or drew a line in the sand and said "I'm out until x/y/z date, so quit pushing," but this is a woman who's been in the public eye for 20 years. She knows how the media vultures and gossip mill operate. The speculation has now turned dark. We're getting everything from she's passed and they're covering it up, to she was injured in an 'incident.' Papers are running articles on William's rage issues. Kate could easily clear this up but she's choosing not to. It leads me to believe she's pissed at her husband and is enjoying watching him squirm. 

Just found out my best friend has independently fallen down the rabbit hole—which just illustrates how out of control this has gotten.

we’re both thinking it’s just a series of ‘own goals’ but are seriously hoping Catherine makes an appearance at Easter. If not, I think KP will have to make yet another announcement, and given how inept they’ve been, it’ll probably just make things even worse.

I’m just hoping she’s chilling with her kiddos, and is either not paying attention to the whole debacle or is highly amused by the shenanigans.

I would think that she is making an appearance at Easter but then wonder why KP wanted it to be known that she isn’t confirmed the attend Trooping of the Colour? Which was stupid on their part tbh

Princess Diana’s former private secretary on the matter from a CNN interview.

He’s kinda repetitious but still clear enough. He comes out critical of William for poor communications. Williams’s office created the vacuum of information which fueled the interest which fueled the out sized interest and the conspiracy theories.)

They definitely mishandled this situation. Supposedly Prince William just got a new private secretary. Hopefully they get a proper PR team again soon. While I’m not on team conspiracy theories and believe what has happened is exactly what we heard (Catherine had major surgery and is now recovering), they were way in over their heads in how they handled this.

Crazily, her secretary, Patrick Jephson, was my neighbor 8 years ago, super nice and very genuine guy. I definitely put stock in his POV.

This has been extremely poorly managed by KP. They’ve done irreparable harm to their image. The pressure they are now under for the next step/stage/messaging is immense. This is a defining moment for the royal family. Charles is not well, to what extent is not known. Kate is MIA and now three very questionable ‘proof of life’ photos have been released. The state of Will and Kate’s marriage is under a serious spotlight. It’s an information black hole. VERY rocky overall.

Charles and Kate are unwell. That is all. Kate is obsessed with her looks and image and she doesn’t want to be pictured looking anything but perfect that’s all. She will be back once she is looking like her old self. I honestly don’t believe the marriage in trouble stuff. Kate will never leave William that too so close to becoming the Queen? No chance.

Is it possible, in light of everything that has occurred so far, that Charles is letting Will have enough rope so Charles can use this PR disaster as his excuse to shutdown Kensington Palace office so everyone falls under his office at BP? Get rid of Will's staff and his vanity projects so he has to get on with the everyday drudgery that being a royal entails? It's not just film premieres and photo ops. It's hands on in the community at events with little or no fanfare. Service rather than PR grandstanding.

With no more competing offices, Charles can have his people oversee everything. That at least might get some consistency.

I kind of doubt it. William has the duchy money now. He can spend it however he wants.

I believe the most significant thing is that - at the very beginning of this whole story- the surgery wasn’t planned at all… she had the agenda full of duties, included a trip to Italy…  The narrative from the Palace was inconsistent from the first day. 

Reposting, because I think my comment got removed.

My takeaway from all the conspiracy theories floating around out there is that no matter what the truth is, look at what the main themes have become. Essentially, there are several theories about Will's behaviour and being a less than stellar husband. Also, the feeling that KP cannot be trusted. No matter what the truth is, the fact that these are the themes that have emerged is interesting.

William has based his entire reputation on being a nice protective family man. He doesn’t really have any other accomplishments or character traits that the public cares about. He put all his eggs were in the good dad/husband basket. Somehow, the Harry & Meghan crisis only bolstered that image. Now Stephen Colbert is doing bits about his alleged affairs, and all the normies know about his anger issues. Now personally, I’m the kind of person who thinks where there’s smoke, there’s fire. But even if there aren’t any flames here, Kategate has done some massive damage to Will’s reputation.

KP PR team is giving toxic boymom energy. Anything to protect their precious son.

Is anybody else getting annoyed at all the normies acting like Rose is William’s Camilla? I mean, maybe she is. Maybe they never even slept together. We don’t really know. But the assumption is getting on my nerves. Not every side chick is a Camilla!!

My mum calls my dads best friend (another straight male) his Camilla.

I was filling in my husband about this mess, and his comment was that he thinks maybe the PR team WANTS this drama unfolding because it keeps the royals in the news. Like essentially, "all press is good press." What does this community think? I was inclined to think that as the figurehead of a political state and a future king, Charles and William really can't afford this type of bad press, especially about DV. Obviously, the royal family do bring in money and tourism for the country, and part of that has always been an uneasy relationship with paparazzi and gossip rags, but given that QE II is gone and there are a lot of people who find them irrelevant and an unfair state subsidy, I think this would be a terrible PR move. Thoughts? Could their PR team be milking this?

Their PR team are likely pulling their hair out. "All press is good press" applies to celebrities who need to keep their names front and center to remain celebrities. The Palaces never want bad press. I think the issue is that William is incredibly stubborn and won't listen to their advice.

I've never been the type of girl to need closure when things come to an end, but if the season finale to this saga doesn’t answer every single question and include some bombshells I’d never even consider, I’m going to cry.

“She deserves her privacy, though!” Shut up, we’re all here for the same reason.

I just find it hilarious that the most interesting thing Kate has ever done in her life is disappear.

The whole ''she went shopping and we saw it, trust me bro'' thing is bad for them any way you look at it.

Either she wasn't really seen shopping and the story was completely fabricated with colaboration from the media, which would be pretty sinister and in line with everything else we've been getting lately, and at the least it would be a very North Korean-esque way of deceiving the public.

or

She actually did went shopping, was in ''public'' no matter how limited and controlled the public was, which means that she's physically capable + her face isn't bad or disfigured or whatever, as some people have suggested. Which portrays her as very irresponsible and weirdly uninterested in keeping up her image and popularity. Amidst all those very damaging rumors that could directly influence and traumatize even her children (forget about adults and public), she has time and will for shopping but not for a 10 second video, which is everything needed to dispell all the rumors once and for all?

All in all, terrible PR one way or another. The clusterfuck continues.

Do they actually think it’s a good look that she went shopping on St Paddy’s Day? She’s involved with the Irish guards and cancelled her appearance at their annual event… so she can’t work but she can pop out to the shops with Willy? Sure, Jan. Just fuck the Irish guards then right?! I mean, not that I remotely believe she went shopping. But another terrible PR bungle. These KP PR people are fucking idiots and I don’t understand why they still have jobs when they’re so clearly incompetent.

Even if she wasn't capable of attending a quick video message expressing her good wishes for the Irish guards etc etc would have worked wonders in terms of restoring good feeling towards them from the public and simultaneously would have quieted the conspiracy theorists. I don't buy she wasn't well enough to do a simple 1 minute video but was perfectly happy with a trip to the shops and watching sports with the kids where she would have been seen and possibly photographed. My personal view is that the trip to the shop didn't happen. There's no way that there's not a SINGLE snap taken on a mobile phone that's made it's way to social media.

I'm continually amazed at how badly the Waleses are botching all of this.

To be clear, I've been a royal watcher since they got engaged in 2010, and I'd definitely fall into more into the "fan" camp than not.

I've thought the conspiracy theories about all of this are nonsense. And even now after "Photogate", I STILL think they're nonsense and that what is happening is what they said - Catherine had serious surgery and needs time to recover.

But the artificially constructed Mother's Day photo is such a huge unforced error, made worse by Catherine then taking the fall for it.

Catherine's clearly not ready to show her actual face as it looks right now, and that's fine.

But then don't fake a picture! Post a quick video of William and the kids making breakfast in bed for Catherine for Mother's Day, or making cards or something. It'd still have the conspiracy theorists buzzing about why we're not seeing her, but it'd have been SO much better received by the general public than what they did.

She's absolutely entitled to her privacy, especially while she recovers. But the deal that the Royal Family has had with the press for decades now is that they get privacy most of the time in exchange for occasional, official, REAL pictures. It's clueless at best - and outright deceptive at worst - to do something like this and think no one will notice or care.

With the farmer’s market story, I’m even more convinced that Kate’s story is a red herring and there is something else happening they don’t want people to notice or know about.

This is still so odd. Either something is up (and I have no knowledge and make no inferences as to what or why) or a lot of people are profoundly bad at their jobs. Ok, the photoshop happens. Then they lie about it, even when they are trying to apologize for it. Why not put out a quick official and genuine photo of just her. If she isn't ready for camera's yet, put out a voice recorded statement saying, "I appreciate everyone's interest in my well being. Rest assured I am recovering well and I look forward to returning to my royal duties as soon as I am able". They could so easily kill all of this speculation and non-sense if things are as they say they are (she is taking car rides and shopping and up out and about). It would literally take 1 hour of her time at most, and instead KP's continued silence invites more speculation. You know what happens in physics why you make a vacuum? It gets filled. The same happens in the media/press. So again I say, either something is up (and I have no grounds with which to speculate what it might be) or this is the absolute worst PR advice and self-made crisis in recent memory.

Edit: Grammar

I joked about this in one of the earlier megathreads, but what if the *plot twist* in all of this is that Kate handles her own PR. I just remember when they got married how one of the little factoids that came out was that Kate did her own makeup for the wedding day. Like, royals! They're just like us!

Can someone answer why Royal Rota media are publishing these pics if there is a deal that they don't publish unauthorized photographs or was this a planned pap walk LOL? Is there a thread somewhere talking about this. I was listening to the Times (UK) Radio on YouTube today and the Assistant Editor for the paper (Kate Mansey) was unfairly criticizing listeners as strange people who are conspiracy theorists and says there isn't a pact or agreement that the family has with the media...yeah right LOL (https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=SIKUvQB2Z_M). Have these people read about the Royal Rota and the unprecedented-in-the-modern-era pacts the royal family has made with the British media.

If the British media are posting it its because they got the ok to do so.

Their PR team needs to pick a lane. On one hand they're selling that Kate is healthy enough to be out and about twice in one weekend, walking around a farmer's market, watching her kids play sports, but on the other she's unwell to the point she had to fake a Mother's Day pic and pull out of an event in June? Which is it? Their messaging is all over the place. 

I hope that if we all take away one thing from this whole ordeal its that no matter how bad at your job you might think you are, you're still probably doing better than the KP PR team over the last couple of weeks so give yourself a pat on the back for a job well done and don't be so harsh on yourself.

what gets me and i know royal fans will call me a conspiracy theorist is that it's kinda obvious there's a story here. the impact or actual matter of it isn't what i'm questioning, but the motivation behind so many blunders. i am a writer/journalist and this entire story feels weirdly on edge of being something, anything.

like yes, let's presume kp was truthful from the beginning and she had abdominal surgery that took too long to recover from. great, but why throw her under the bus? or if all of this is a distraction, overplayed to the nines, what for? 

i am sure any tea is probably regular people tea to the max, like relationship dynamics, family stuff and whatnot. it's not like i believed she was killed and it was hidden, but usually when there's smoke there's fire and i'm curious about what fire, you know? 

i would love to be a fly on the wall and know what they disagree about, their relationship with staff and other royals. 

i find kate stylish and their wedding hype was charming, if a little gauche. i am against royals in general, not specifically them, but they could be great philanthropists if they wanted. 

the thing with Kate's personality (in public) is that it's nonexistent? i suppose that's the ideal, princess-like behavior that's expected from her. but i do wonder what happens behind the scenes with that. how curated it is x how many other blunders happened before.

The story seems to be that Will and Kate are going to find it much, much harder to be the center of the slimmed down monarchy than they realized.  Though if it turned out that they’d never really thought about how that was going to work on practice, I would believe you.  There aren’t as many working royals so the attention is on them, whether they want it to be or not.  The disappearing and the stonewalling isn’t super unusual for Will and Kate, though not previously to this extent, but we’ll see if they make any changes moving forward.  Judging from how this debacle has dragged on, I am guessing they won’t.

Well, I for one am very impressed by Kate's ability to emerge from her grueling 3 month surgical recovery looking like a radiant, bouncy 25 year old yoga instructor who doesn't have a care in the world.

[will80sbyers]

id love to draw more byler kisses but i and a couple other artists i’ve spoken to (i mean it was a couple months ago now ah) got kinda nervous to draw that back when some part of the fandom were ‘cancelling’ people over the smallest stuff or making up assumptions off of ~vibes~ that aren’t even true. it made it discouraging for smaller artists bc of course we want to explore the romance but sometimes more than a little peck on the lips is needed, or feels more right. like as an artist you want to evoke emotion, and you can’t do that holding back just bc some people can’t handle some characters growing up? most of us just want to draw the deeper level of love we’ll be getting in s5 anyway. i know it shouldn’t matter/we can post what we want etc but especially on twitter people were soo extreme about anything other than basic content. idk if I’m explaining right, but are romantic kisses (not crazy passionate lol) something the fandom wants to see, not just cute little ones? maybe it’s better now idk, this post made me happy to see tbh 😅

Oh I definitely want to see the romantic kisses, the real big kiss and even it being passionate (not in a crazy way) because that's how you get the intensity of the relationships in romance for me personally at least

and don't get me wrong, I absolutely love them just holding hands too or doing cute relationships stuff but kisses are part of the majority of relationships, that is an experience most people and couples have in life, obviously not all and I'm NOT saying that who doesn't do it doesn't love equally, but it's just a different expression that should be represented too along with all the others!

but I get it, you should do what you want obviously and if you don't want to deal with that part of the fandom it's totally valid!!! I'm sorry you had to experience that in the fandom :(

I think people must stop to associate simple kissing with sex, like, NO ONE is asking for more explicit art of byler because they are too young for that to be okay obviously, and no one wants to see that!!!! but a kiss is just a kiss

and I personally want to say that people CANCELLING people because they draw a couple in a ship only kissing are completely out of reality, a kiss is there to express affection and love not always to get to more intimate parts of the relationship

Teenagers kiss in movies constantly, it's an expression of love, and it doesn't have to be leading to sex EVER, unless they want it to in their private moment that we are definitely not interested in seeing!!!

if you seriously think that kissing someone can only lead you to sleep with them you have a distorted view of affection, maybe because someone made you think it should but it absolutely does not have to lead to more intimate things!!! ( Never do anything that you don't feel comfortable doing, if you're ok with kissing it means that you're ok with kissing, anything MORE than that should be discussed between the people involved. )

How are artists supposed to give us cute content and cute art about the ship if you start cancelling everybody even when they did nothing wrong...?

and also how are we supposed to take "cancelling" seriously anyway, if the situation is really this? shouldn't that be reserved for when people do something that's really harmful to others??? implying that who wants to see a kiss between two people in love in a story is a pedo is insane and completely out of reality... they are 15 not 10, it's perfectly normal and healthy for them to be kissing?????

and it's also stupid because the whole world is watching it happen constantly on TV, movies, books... and why is this a problem only for byler???? only the mlm couple has to be under scrutiny for this? interesting, I wonder why!

I WONDER if maybe people are sexualizing mlm ships more than they should and subconsciously thinking that people want to see them do more even when all they are asking is just a NORMAL healthy thing like a kiss... because of that, because they have that

gay = sexual

in automatic response!!!

THAT is harmful to real queer people around the world.

Examine yourself when you have thoughts like that, because that is rooted in homophobia or lesbiphobia...

also remember that real people often do have sex and teenagers are sexual beings, that doesn't mean that it should be depicted explicitly in the media or that it's any adults business what they do or don't, but it's not ok to want to just hide completely that part of reality and it's also DANGEROUS.

Teenagers MUST get safe and healthy sexual EDUCATION in a safe environment, from doctors and teachers because they will want to do that anyway and it's important to inform them about these things so that they can protect themselves from catching diseases, ending up pregnant when they are too young for it or being forced against their will to do something or not respect someone's consent because no one taught them about respecting it and they learned about sex from the porn industry that is rather violent in almost every video 😕

but going back to this specific situation and byler... this is also weird because IN the show we had Mike and El making out when they were even younger than Mike and Will now! That could have really been avoided but it also doesn't mean that the writers are pedophiles for writing them kissing when they are in a relationship, that's just writing reality, they are in their first relationship and they want to kiss, the Duffers were extremely respectful in their depiction of a part of reality because of their ages obviously... you should go to complain to people that are actually doing weird suff in this industry like the writer of Euphoria for example 😐

being RESPECTFUL is the same thing that artists do here when they handle byler, they stay respectful but still capture a moment of reality... it's just drawing their first kiss that it's a symbol of them confessing their romantic feelings, it is not meant to be anything more than that!!!

[brick-a-doodle-do]

here take th- *passes out*

ok i speedwrote this, i had a line in mind and decided to write it cause i was sad :] tbh the first bit seems kinda angsty but tommy's just in a silly goofy mood and is being dramatic as always.

also ig it's for @corysmiles's little streamer au? maybe? let's roll with it

goodnight now 😴

off switch

wc: 1356

cw: swearing, mention of drowning, brief panic

—–—

Tommy screams as he slips over the edge of the sink and plummets in, soapy water splashing around him as he sinks to the bottom. He flails in the pool of water, releasing a scream that came out as warped noises and a flood of bubbles from his mouth. Water clouds his eyes, but he still finds his way back to the surface. He gasps dramatically when his head resurfaces and the cold air of the bathroom rushes around his face and flushing his cheeks the faintest shade of pink. “Wilbur!” Tommy calls out, slipping below the water again. In a panic, he inhales, water flooding his pipes. He lifts his face up against the foamy water and coughs out, the detergenty taste of soap and shaving cream spilling out of his throat. Tommy shudders. “Wilbur, you fucking bitch! I am not fucking swimming around in your soapy-ass water, get me the fuck out of this!” He yells, gaping at Wilbur’s terrible attempt at hiding his smile as he continues on, acting as if he doesn’t hear the tiny. “Wilbur!” he yells, flailing with dramatised movements. Wilbur’s lips quiver in amusement. Water splashes around him, and he’s made too big of a scene to stop his struggle. Besides, the walls of the sink, no matter how close he gets to them, tower above him and will never guarantee a safe way out. Wilbur, the bitch, is the only way out. 

He groans loudly (Wilbur can hear his utter distress) and ceases his movements to make a terribly embarrassing attempt of splashing water up at the human. He flips backwards the second his arms break the surface and he slips back under the water, limbs twisting in a terrible cluster, like a puzzle that takes eons to put together. He yells out Wilbur’s name under the water, and upon inhaling, again, water swarms his gullet and before he knows it he’s coughing underwater, bubbles disperse around him until he can resurface. And when he does, his cheeks are flushed with a deeper shade of pink-purple. He chokes, holding his hands to his chest to support his burning lungs, while his legs continue to flail under the water to keep him upright. 

“Wilbur! Bitch—dick—asshole! You are the worst person I have ever met, help me!”

“Why should I?” Wilbur asks with a hum, patting his freshly-shaved face with a blue towel. In the mirror Wilbur is gazing into, Tommy watches as a faint smile threatens to crack further. That bitch,

“Wh’dya mean why should I? Just help me! That’s not a fucking thing to question, I’m literally drowning and your stupid ass is out here like ‘why should I?’” Tommy yells, scoffing. 

“You look fine to me,” Wilbur says. Now that he points it out, Tommy realises that his legs are rhythmically flowing in the slow water to keep him afloat, and for once in his life he’s calm.

“Oh fuck off with that, I may look fine but I’m dying right now. Drowning, startlingly quickly. Got that, Wil-bitch?” 

“I see,” Wilbur says, distracted. The towel is set down dangerously close to the sink, and Tommy finds this to be a taunt. An extremely irritating one.

“Help me,” Tommy whines, trying his hardest to sound even the smallest bit demanding for a man whose personality is structured on drama. 

Wilbur shuffles, one last time drawing his hands down the faint stubble he’d left be before he pried his attention away from the mirror, and relievingly down to Tommy. He fully anticipates being brought out of this hellhole of a sink and onto the counter, but instead, Wilbur just leans over the counter and watches him. And the fucking worst part of it is: Wilbur doesn’t try to conceal his smile any longer. It’s keeping laughter locked in, he knows from the way his dimples are pulled back and his lips dip down at the ends.

“You are a bitch. I fucking hate you, die in a hole you absolute shithead— I will bite you,” Tommy snips, arms folding against his chest.

“You are a very demanding child,” Wilbur replies. He sounds too content, he hates it. And, oh—

“I am not a fucking child, ey, I’m eighteen now! And I can be as demanding as I want when I am dying in a sink,” Tommy argues, putting his complaint into lilting syllables. 

Wilbur sighs, leaning further over the sink. His eyes come dangerously close to him, and Tommy can feel his warm breath wash over him when the man’s smile widens. He bares his teeth and Tommy very well considers punching them. But instead, he promptly splashes water up at the human. Wilbur yells and retaliates, standing upright and rubbing at his eye. “Oh fuck,” he murmurs softly, the smugness wiped right away. “You realise that doesn’t make me want to get you out of the water any more, yeah? You’re unpleasant to be around.”

“Wha—nononono—Wilbur, it won’t happen again! I promise, please let me out of this shithole and I’ll leave you alone, it is fucking freezing in here,” he says. It was a complete lie, and if anything, the water was strangely relaxing. But it helped his case.

“Think about it, waterinnit. We could make you li’l floaties, floatinnit. Wha’dya think?” 

“I think get me the fuck out of here.” 

Wilbur rolls his eyes and murmurs under his breath sadly, and with the hand that isn’t constantly making sure his eye is in-tact, swipes his hand under the water and takes Tommy along with it. Water falls over the edge of Wilbur’s palm and Tommy relaxes his shoulders and bathes in the feeling of the sores in his legs declining. 

“Happy, child?” Wilbur asks, lowering his hands with practised ease flat onto the counter. Tommy, also having done this a million times over, clambers off. His clothes are heavy with water and his hair sticks uncomfortably against his forehead, playing with the tip of his vision. 

“Congrats on doing the bare-fucking-minimum,” he quips. 

Wilbur laughs, reaching for something over the counter that Tommy doesn’t get a chance to see before his vision is cut off with a deep blue something. His head is abruptly caught between Wilbur’s forefinger and thumb as the human messes with the top of his head. His vision spins and his cheeks flush a deep pink when he realises Wilbur is trying to dry him off. He can feel the indent of Wilbur’s fingers against the towel gently dig into his hair. Part of him wants to struggle, but the other part melts at the feeling. It’s mesmerising, two fingers double the height of him rubbing against his hair in a paternal fashion. His heart twists weird, and before he can get ahold of his nice it felt, soft fluorescent lighting from the bulbs that lined the bathroom mirror flooded his vision. He squints at the sudden change, then stares up at Wilbur, who stares down at him with a fond smile—something knowing in it. Tommy can’t quite place it.

The phantom feeling of his fingers against his head still massages in his imagination. But, he still has a facade to hold up. “Wh- What the fuck was that? I don’t want fucking spa treatment from a bitch like you,” he complains. 

“Awwwh, Tommeee, did you like that?” Wilbur coos, drawing out his name and crouching down to be eye-level with him. That something knowing in his eyes became almost obvious now. The same two fingers return to his head and something warm spreads in him. Wilbur massages his head, and he melts into it, eyes closed contently despite his urge to protest. Wilbur’s forefinger ruffles at his hair, smiling a smile wider than Tommy has ever seen. 

“Piss off, you’re so annoying,” Tommy murmurs, tire lulling at him.

“Do you have a fucking off switch?” Wilbur asks abruptly, sounding startlingly curious.

“No, I don’t have an off switch!” he says, straightening up. 

Testing his theory, WIlbur takes his head between his forefinger and thumb and rubs them in circles above his ears. Before Tommy can protest, he slumps against Wilbur’s hand.

—–—

[humanoidtyphoons]

no i got things to say about gun x sword

-genuinely sad the opening did not commit to the bit of silhouettes revealed and remaining silhouettes if the characters had died. ray dying broke my heart but i think he should have remained a silhouette in the opening after his death, but at some point the anime stopped doing that and it’s a real shame bc i thought the way it initially did things was sooo fun

-didn’t expect to like ray so much but he’s a foil to van in a way that gradually became really pleasing. also him thwarting the claw’s plan, even temporarily, was super satisfying!!!

-the claw was such a good villain. trying to suss out why things don’t add up with him, what people say about him vs what he’s doing. meeting him in person, being underwhelmed, baffled, cautious and temporary insane about how things don’t make sense before coming to the conclusion that he’s actually insane so the dissonance is… intentional? he clicks in a way that’s really great to process tbh. like the good intentions he has just don’t work with his logic, he doesn’t seem to realise he killed people when he gives them hugs, and doesn’t really care if people die so long as his dream is fulfilled?

-it’s a little embarrassing to be in denial about his blatant madness, and i should have figured it out sooner, but ngl he flummoxed me for episodes bc people couldn’t hate him and apparently found him so charismatic that they joined his cause??? so i. convinced myself that there was going to be this super complicated reveal that would explain his bizarreness in a convoluted way, that would explain everything… and the simplicity of it being. he’s just insane, actually. so much more effective.

(-knives out glass onion with benoit blanc going “you’re not smart! you’re just stupid!!!” is the closest comparison i think i can get but it’s just… wasn’t satisfying for that movie, (i did like the movie, tho, with nitpicks) whereas gxs… me coming to the realisation about claw… sometimes as the audience, you doing the legwork is what makes the figuring out and making it make sense satisfying??)

-i really like that van wastes no time killing claw in the final episode. bc we’d seen something similar with ray, who also wanted revenge for the death of his wife at claw’s hands. claw talking and being dismissive. we’d seen in the previous episode, van and the claw talking, in which the claw repeatedly calling van an idiot. it was clear that they were never going to get through to each other. so van quickly cuts him in two, and honestly? so fulfilling. so satisfying.

-found myself shipping van/pricilla and joshua/wendy. ofc they didn’t end up together, but i’m super relieved van/wendy didn’t happen either and they remained platonic til the end.

-ngl van kinda inexplicably hating joshua soooo much made me laugh so much! it’s so mean and i love both characters but it’s hilarious

-i kinda do like wendy vs her brother michael and her telling him off bc she explored the planet with van and gained new experiences

-docked a point for the fan service tho

-i’m not… particularly happy about michael once he sleeps with his teammate tbh? idk how i would have written it but… uh… not like that tbh?

-honestly the story is nothing new but the characters are so fun and likeable and that matters more tbh! ngl my attention span wandered at times but when it was good, it was very very good

-but also i liked that van wasn’t solely motivated by revenge. not like ray. ray lived for nothing else but revenge, but van… as cranky as he was, still had connections to the living.

[heartshattering]

I'm sad over the stupidest fucking thing ever but this is making me spiral

I am rarely ever with my dad anymore, then today since he had a day off and my mom seemed to be resting, Dad and I were going to watch something together for the first time in I don't know how long... I've mentioned before he kind of avoids being around us, mostly because of my mom tbh because she starts asking for a lot of things... and yeah I get annoyed at my dad too, but I still thought it was nice he was willing to watch this with me, especially because I haven't really had energy for much, so it was gonna be the one thing I'd watch before I would go back to working

The thing we were gonna watch doesn't interest her at all, it has subtitles and my mom doesn't like subtitles, plus she wouldn't like the subject matter either since it involves murder etc.

Anyway... my mom heard my dad and I laughing at one of the scenes (we were in the family room while she was sleeping in her room). AND SHE FREAKED THE FUCK OUT SO BADLY. Literally lost it on me, accusing my personality disorder of being this way, saying I'm being abusive to her by 'purposely leaving her out' even when I said "I thought you were resting and it's not something you would like to watch with us anyway", doesn't matter to her, we should only be with her watching the stuff SHE likes anyway. I had to stop watching and go be in the room with her, thank God I took something to numb myself so I could be 'there' but not really 'there' just stuck having to do shit for her while her mindless TV channel of choice (fucking Home Shopping Network...) played in the background. I tried to cut but didn't get as far as I would have liked, I want to take more pills but deep down I know it's fucking stupid and if I died then... I'd be dead obviously... which I can't decide is good or not. But I'm too scared. I'd fail and just waste 2 weeks in the goddamn hospital. And it's not 'wah wah I didn't get to watch what I wanted' that has me sad but just the fact my mom NEVER LETS ME DO WHAT I WANT. Even something as simple as getting away from her for a while to watch a fucking movie (not even go to the cinema but just a couple rooms away), NO every goddamn thing in my life has to revolve around her, she didn't even 'need' anything, she just got pissed that I was supposedly 'leaving her out' and then blamed me 'acting like that' on my BPD. It's never going to get any better and the only reason I haven't done anything worse to myself is because I still don't know if I want it to 'work' on not. I'm not numb enough yet but the only thing that would really make me numb for good would be to be dead finally. I'm just so sick of everything and every fucking day is going to be me chained to my mom never able to do anything that I fucking want to do that doesn't involve her.

[chronologicalhomestuck]

karkat pov liveblog: hivebent, part 1

we begin in a lab on a meteor in the furthest ring.

computer enhance.

look at all those little goobers! i am not replaying this whole flash just for this moment but in lieu of that, here's hussie's commentary on the scene from the book, just for a bit of spice.

as far as i can tell, karkat's first chronological appearance in hivebent is 2177.

vriska has just jumped tavros off a cliff, and he chooses to message karkat about it. im not sure what he hoped to get out of this since karkats only reply is characteristically snappy.

we then jump to 2025. karkat is messing around with some .~ATH files. in the middle of examining the mobius double reacharound virus (titled check_thii2_2hiit_out.~ATH), he gets trolled by its author. hello sollux.

CG: SO YOU MADE THIS GAME? TA: no no. TA: more liike ii adapted iit. CG: FROM WHAT. TA: 2ome crazy technology AA dug out of 2ome ruiin2. TA: havent you talked two her about iit? CG: MAN, NO. CG: I CAN'T TALK TO HER, SHE'S SO SPOOKY.

we start talking about the game that will take up the rest of karkats story, and get a hint about this mysterious "AA."

he then hears crabdad complaining, and chooses to put this off...long enough to introduce himself, i guess.

karkat's introduction is 1992, written in a way directly referencing john's introduction.

Earth, also for convenient reference, is a planet that does not yet exist.

see how we are doing this? logical! earth doesnt exist yet, so of course we arent starting with the humans!

homestuck does not want me to read it chronologically. it is doing everything possible to stop me from reading it chronologically.

This game, for convenient reference, is a game that DOES NOT YET EXIST.

please. please let me obey chronology.

Later on, you would swap your modus with your hacker friend, a guy who unlike you happens to be competent with programming. It would only make sense.

i thought i would embark on this quest and find its purpose along my way. that purpose, it seems so far, is to acknowledge just how stupid this chronology is.

It is your sixth wriggling day, and as with all five preceding it blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah.

yeah i was about to say something like that. that being that i wont have much to say so long as the plot remains linear.

It figures that installing this new beta chat client would open the floodgates

i always forget that trollian was brand new when hivebent starts. i wonder what they used to message each other before then?

speaking of which, his first pesterlog after his introduction is page 2010, with gamzee. its kinda sad how mean karkat is to a lot of his friends tbh.

TC: iSn'T sOmEtHiNg BiG aLl GoInG dOwN? CG: WHAT? TC: i HeArD sOmEtHiNg bIg WaS gOiNg AlL dOwN. TC: JuSt AlL bE tElLiNg Me AlL wHaT mOtHeRfUcKiN iT's Up AnD aLl AbOuT. CG: STOP SAYING ALL. ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT TA'S THING? TC: yEaH!! fUcK yEaH mAn, So MyStErIoUs. TC: I'm NeVeR bEiNg GeTtInG cEaSeD tO bE aMaZeD bY aLl ThEsE fUcKiN mYsTeRiEs LiFe'S gOt FoR uS. CG: UUUUUUGH. CG: ANYWAY, I DON'T KNOW WHAT'S UP WITH THAT. CG: MAYBE I'LL TALK TO HIM TONIGHT ABOUT IT. MAYBE I WON'T. CG: IT'S PROBABLY JUST ANOTHER ONE OF HIS PROJECTS THAT WINDS UP BEING COMPLETELY USELESS AND A HUGE WASTE OF MY TIME.

(apologies if the text is hard to read on dark mode. i use cyber theme myself and cant see a word gamzee says here)

according to the pov cam, the next page karkat is on chronologically is 2058. the great team divide / team leader argument of hivebent has officially begun, with karkat and terezi. and in the end, it wont even matter at all. lmao.

CG: OK WELL CG: SPEAKING OF THAT CG: I SHOULD GO DOWNSTAIRS AND DEAL WITH THIS GRUMPY CUSTOMER. CG: IT'S GOING TO FONDLE MAJOR SEEDFLAP, BUT HOPEFULLY IT'LL BE QUICK. CG: YOU CAN ESTABLISH YOUR CONNECTION AND DO YOUR TRIVIAL SIDEKICK STUFF I GUESS IN THE MEANTIME. GC: OK! >:D

and apparently karkat intends to deal with his quite grumpy crabdad at the end of this conversation.

but then his computer explodes.

interesting. sburb equipment already? i suppose he was right:

CG: TEREZI AND I HAVE ALREADY ESTABLISHED A CONNECTION AND WE ARE MAKING GREAT PROGRESS HERE. CG: WE ARE A GREAT TEAM, AND I AM A FANTASTIC LEADER.

welp. guess he didnt have to deal with him after all. although the drawing on the fridge is very cute.

terezi has continued to make progress on his hive...

and he gets his new weapon...

only to find his toilet detached from its fixings.

GC: 1M YOUR S3RV3R PL4Y3R SO PR1OR1TY H4S TO B3 ON M3 G3TT1NG 1N TH3 G4M3 GC: B3FOR3 1 G3T K1LL3D BY M3T3ORS GC: 1N WH1CH C4S3 YOUD B3 SCR3W3D 1N TH3R3 GC: TH3N TH3 N3XT GUY COM3S 1N, TH3N TH3 N3XT GC: 4ND YOU BR1NG TH3 L4ST ON3 1N CG: WHOA WAIT, WHAT? CG: METEORS? CG: WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU TALKING ABOUT. CG: WHAT DOES THIS HAVE TO DO WITH METEORS. GC: OH BOY YOU N33D TO G3T W1TH TH3 PROGR4M K4RK4T

karkat, i think you are a bit behind on what this game is going to be like. yet you are already on your planet despite that!

i gotta go now but ill be back

[neon-lights-stardust-nights]

I think I like how this idea of faers escape goes tbh

~.~.~

After Nygma received a panicked email from an account Crane had only ever used in short correspondences during tense alliances… Edward didn’t need to read the whole thing to know something was wrong. He’d recently gotten an actual chance to talk to Kronos again, and their conversation seemed to have the desired impact.

It’s Kronos. For the love of god, do not delete this email. I didn’t want to log into my own, I was afraid he’d notice somehow. Johnathan will likely still notice, but maybe he doesn’t read through his own sent emails very often? I’m stupid, who the fuck does that besides me.

It went on, I have decided. I want out. John’s not going to just let me go though, we both know that. I’m not asking you to send in the rescue brigade. You’ve been underground lately, laying low. I respect that. I just need help, somehow, someone. Doesn’t matter who at this point. Please, Ed.

And that’s all it said.

“Doesn’t matter who at this point,” that line stuck with him. For a moment, that felt like a subtle cry to send Batman in. Still, he wanted to review other options before jumping head first into the shitshow that might cause. Laid up in bed, legs bent to prop up his laptop while he typed away, Nygma spent a few days with headphones in on and off. Mostly doing research.

First order of business to him was if fae had any family worth scoffing at. Not really. He knew of faers Arkham stay, but next wanted details. He wouldn’t send Kronos to Arkham on purpose, but maybe emails and security footage could dig up anything. Any friends fae made during would be useful. A little part of him rooted for Two Face—Harvie was easy to negotiate with when you involved chaos, and Harvey’s malformed sense of justice could be manipulated. Getting into everything was easy (they really should up their cyber-security!) Nothing was worth looking at though. Everything mentioning faer never seemed to bring up anything worth scoffing at.

It was after that third day of combing through workers IMs emails and that Edward heard the phone ring. He wished the damn thing was less loud, heard well over the music he was playing. The volume button got a bit of abuse, him repeatedly pressing it to push the slider up until it hurt his ears a little. These things were cheap, but laying low meant not being able to replace his emergency over-ears for anything better.

Though Edward thought letting the phone ring out would be the end of it, he heard it over the roar of the bass drum regardless. Faint, covered by techno music, a sound from the outside world. His phone was ringing again. His eye twitched, focus on the transcripts of guards’ pointless banter wavering some as the annoying, shrill sound of his home phone played out.

The ringing ended. Edward held his breath, waiting. After a few moments, he let out the most contented sigh… Only to have such relaxation immediately shot dead by more ringing. The headphones came off, laptop pushed onto the mattresss.

“Alright, fine!” He stormed over, yanking the thing off the hook. It came up to his ear, and he decided to just let them have it: “whoever the hell you are, you must have too much free time! Can’t you get that I’m busy?”

“Hello, Edward.”

His blood ran cold. Hugo fucking Strange? He’d been incredibly careful! “How the hell did you get this number?”

“You aren’t the only one doing digging,” was the response he got. “You, however, have been sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”

“And?”

“Why?”

Edward scoffed. “Rather domestic of you to just call me, isn’t it?”

“You’re dodging the question,” he pointed out.

“Because I’m not answering it,” Edward retorted.

“If what I’m being shown is correct, and I have every reason to believe it is… You’ve been snooping other places too.”

“Cut the crap, Strange. What’s stopping me from hanging up on you? Right here, right now?”

“Zacharie Ratkovic. Though, if I’m correct, fae prefers Kronos these days.” Edward’s silence was telling enough that he pressed further, “why?”

“What proof do you have that fae’s involved in this,” Edward bit back, a little too quickly.

“Practically everything I can trace back of your snooping is about faer. Legal information, medical documents, and the list goes on. I want to know why.”

“And I’m going to just tell you, because?”

Strange chuckled, “last I remember, Kronos escaped Arkham to reunite with a certain Johnathan Crane. Yet if your own emails are anything to go off of—“

“Jackass,” Edward groaned, grit teeth and exhaustion coming in clear through the phone.

Ignoring him, “—Kronos is looking to escape.”

“Whatever help you’re offering: no. I said I’d handle it, I’m gonna handle it!”

“I do not mean to trample your ego,” and the faux care put to his voice was nearly mocking to Edward. “But how exactly do you plan to wrench Crane’s prized possession from him without causing a ruckus?”

There was silence on both ends. Edward’s eyes narrowed as Strange broke it, smirk practically audible. “Don’t tell me you have no plan?”

“That’s what I was working on, you idiot! And I do have a worst-case-scenario sort of thing up my sleeve, but I’m obviously saving that for if nothing else looks promising!”

“And what is that exactly?”

“None of your fucking business, that’s what it is.”

Perhaps he was having a spot of fun, quoting the email at Nygma. “Doesn’t matter who at this point.”

“Oh my god, you’re looking right at it. You’re looking at the email right now, aren’t you? Rubbing it in my face. That’s exactly how you get a man to work with you, you insult him.”

“Quite frankly, I’ve put up with plenty of insults from you. I could always hangup, and pretend I never heard about this little escape plan.”

Edward sighed, rubbing at his forehead some with two fingers. He wouldn’t admit that the help would be nice, even if it weren’t Strange on the other end of the line. “What’s your grand plan, exactly?”

“Simple. I have the men and resources to storm his hiding place. They will either retrieve faer, or give faer the opening to escape on faers own.”

“Eloquent,” Edward mumbled with an eye roll, sarcasm dripping like honey from his words. “You just want faer to build you shit for yourself, don’t you? Bombs and bullets like what fae was supplying me, like what fae’s suck supplying Crane, and like fae could supply you.”

“It certainly sweetens the pot,” Strange mused, “but even if that is all I have to gain from this: do you have other options?”

“Sending a tip to Batman about a hostage sounds like an option.” Strange didn’t respond, which got a good chuckle from Nygma. “C’mon, didn’t you read it earlier? Doesn’t matter who it is I send to help, Kronos just wants out!”

“And send faer back to Arkham?” Strange tsk’d at him, “as though Kronos would forgive you from throwing faer from wolves to lions.”

“Shut up, alright?”

“You’re awfully intent on avoiding my offer.”

Edward threw an arm into the air, phone held to his ear by his other shoulder. “And you’re awfully intent to keep offering! Kronos is scared shitless of you, just as scared as fae is about a potential Arkham stay. How do we know he’s gonna do that, anyway? Maybe he’ll take pity on faer, drag faer back to wherever he lives. Poor thing’s probably gonna be six feet in fear toxin, and knowing him, he has a cure!”

“And there’s an equally likely chance that he will leave a hospital to sort out a very scared, drugged man. I simply would like to point out that either option will be uncomfortable, but pain often must be endured for the sake of progress.”

Edward paused. “Why am I arguing with you? You’re going to do this whether or not I let you.”

Something caught his eye. On his caller ID, another call that couldn’t come through because of Strange. With dawning horror, he realized that was Crane’s number. There’s only two reasons Crane could be calling right now…

“I may have already started the arrangements.”

“You got his IP address way before I ever started snooping through anything belonging to Arkham,” Edward whispered.

“Perhaps. Or I acquired it when I caught your wandering eye. You don’t really know, do you?”

“I don’t like the answer either way.”

“This has been fun,” and Edward was stuck staring back at his laptop. “Goodbye, Edward.”

He didn’t say anything. He just slammed the phone back into place, rushing to his living room. Anything that large scale would end up on television. Laptop with him, he closed out all those old transcripts. Now he was trying to hack into cameras, into anything that could at least let him make sure he didn’t doom faer.

[hismercytomyjustice]

…goddammit, it’s already at almost 4500 words and I am not even close to the actual plot I had planned for it…

How could this happen to me, I made my mistakes, got nowhere to run…. ( ༎ຶ⌑༎ຶ )

It’s not my fault. Everyone was too nice to me and now I’ve lost control of my life! It’s everyone else’s fault! For being too nice! Be meaner!!!

Except don’t because then I will fake my death and hide in the woods forever. orz. And once again I will recreate myself in the image of herjusticetomymercy. Tbh I’ve threatened it enough at this point I should probably grab the url just in case lol.

But holy shit I cannot believe how many people have said nice stuff to me about this series??? Like omfg??? HOW? WHY? WHO WHAT WHEN WHERE?!

My fics almost never break 300 kudos. It has happened exactly twice before this. And one of those was a 50k+ word fanfic across 25 chapters. I still have no fucking clue how the WWDITS oneshot broke 500 kudos. Forever fucking baffled but gleeful about that.

I mean, I was def hoping my BG3 fic would do at least as well as my Cardcaptors fic because it’s for a bigger fandom and I have been so fucking #blessed to have so many amazing regular readers and commenters who literally make my fucking day every time I update. ( ˃̣̣̥︿˂̣̣̥ ) I get so fucking excited to see what my semi-voluntary (in that I have recruited them without their knowledge, sorry y’all) fanfic bffs will think of each chapter. It’s why I’m so sad it’ll be wrapping up in the next month or so.

Even if it stopped getting kudos or any new readers on my BG3 fic completely tomorrow, I’d still want to finish posting it just to share it with my regulars! It feels like being part of a little book club except I’m building the story as we go, lol. It is the FUCKING BEST!!! God I fucking hope folks like the ending. I will survive either way, but I’m so fucking happy with it and I feel like it wraps things up really well and I hope I’m not just delusional lmaooooo. Shut the fuck up OCD!

I know I should write first and foremost for myself because if I don’t enjoy the process, what the fuck is the point??? But at the same time, HOLY SHIT IT IS NICE TO BE EXTERNALLY VALIDATED! And I really wasn’t expecting it with my HH series at all. I mean, I def hoped but didn’t expect. I legit thought part four was gonna be the one that finally got me hate comments on AO3 lol. And then it had like eight kudos before I went to bed after posting it and I was just like “Oh thank fuck, I’m not gonna be chased off by an angry mob and be told I’ll never write fanfic in this town again!” Or at least eight people out of the entire rest of the internet aren’t willing to revoke my fanfic writing license yet, haha.

And even writing this part, having a better idea of what folks have liked in the prior ones, it’s still fucking terrifying! And I know that’s my stupid OCD. Because so much of my self-worth is tied up in wanting to write well, be it fanfic or otherwise. And I KNOW it shouldn’t matter so long as I’m having fun! BUT STILL. My therapist would say something at this point like “but you’re having fun aren’t you” or “you have four other parts that show people have enjoyed what you wrote so far, so what are the odds this is the one that makes them all rethink that stance?” And all I have to say in reply is “ocd go brrr!”

But that’s why I post about this shit on here. Because it’s embarrassing but also because I am making myself confront my brain gremlins when they want to pull me down. ╰( °ㅂ°)╯ Because OCD feeds off of fear/insecurity/shame and by confronting it in a semi-public forum I’m making myself acknowledge it (NOT AVOID!) and defuse it! Instead of just tying myself into increasingly intricate mental knots.

EASIER SAID THAN DONE BUT IT’S SOMEHOW WORKED THIS FAR, SO…. _(┐「ε:)_

…well, I went from having no ETA whatsoever for part five to having already written 1k for it today, so…it might be finished sooner than I thought…

Tho I’m going to be out of town this weekend, so it probably won’t be up this weekend.

Assuming I somehow master the art of self control during that time…

I still gotta edit this upcoming week’s BG3 chapter too… Do not wanna cut it down to the wire again.

…lord help us all…

[appocalipse]

this has me squealing tbh

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, sitting down next to you.

You don’t move. He shifts closer, thigh brushing yours, and says it again, louder this time, “I'm sorry.”

You take a deep breath. Sitting on your front porch, watching a particularly dramatic-looking summer rain, you and Steve are the perfect cliché of a rom-com after a fight — except you're not quite sure how this is going to end.

He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear and leans closer, nuzzling your bare neck, touch soft. 

Though it tickles, you still don’t move. He groans.

“Baby,” Steve tries again.

“Don’t call me that.”

He shakes his head in disbelief, a humorless smile on his face. “Oh, c’mon, I didn’t-”

“C’mon?” you finally turn your face sideways to look at him; he’s surprised at how mad you look. “Unbelievable. You are unbelievable, Steve Harrington.”

Being forgetful is his only sin, he swears. And even though you’re having a hard time believing him, it is the truth; he didn’t tell Nancy you two were officially dating before because the topic simply didn’t come up. He rarely saw her these days. And on the rare occasions he did, it was simply a quick exchange of words, no space for deeper and more meaningful conversations — or else, he would have obviously talked about you. He had a harder time stopping talking about you.

And, of course, when she spotted you two walking together hand in hand and nothing less of shock took over her features, you immediately thought the worst.

Honestly, Steve couldn’t blame you — you’d been together officially for only a month now, and the way he handled relationships in his past wasn’t encouraging in the least. 

Plus, his hand slipped from yours when Nancy approached to say hi.

He didn’t mean to. He truly, honestly, didn’t mean to — his stupid hand just did it on its own. He got nervous and panicked, and when Steve tried to reach out for your hand again — to mend his mistake — you moved your hand away.

“Y/N, I know what you’re thinking, and that’s not what happened,” he says, resting a gentle hand on your knee. “I swear it’s not.”

You grab his wrist and move his hand away. “I think you should go.”

“No.”

“What?”

“No, I’m not going,” he states, crossing his arms dramatically. “Not as long as you’re mad at me.”

“Steve-”

“Do you trust me?”

You sigh. He's looking at you with those big brown eyes. “You didn’t tell her we’re dating! She’s your ex, you- you loved her. You told me that, that she was the first girl you’ve ever loved and that it took you a long time to get over her…and now you didn’t tell her about us. What am I supposed to think?”

“That I wasn’t thinking about her. That the only girl in my mind is you.”

Eyes never leaving yours, Steve leans down and brushes his lips against your shoulder.

You swallow. “I wish I could believe that.”

“Then believe it,” he's softly kissing all the way to your neck, slowly. “Because it's true.” 

You laugh. No humor, just…irony. “First love is special.”

“Not as special as the last.”

He moves forward and kisses you before you can say something else — you’re too stunned to do anything but gasp, pulling back after a moment too long for someone who’s supposed to be mad.

It’s so hard to stay mad at him.

“It doesn’t matter if you’re not my first love, first date, or first kiss,” he murmurs against your mouth, forehead resting against yours. “I want you to be my last everything.”

more drabbles | request here!

[extravaguk]

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

wordcount: 15k

genre: summer!au, ex high school classmaters, kinda frenemies to lovers, tattoo artist!&piercing artist!jungkook, popular!reader

rated: m (fluff - smut - angst)

warnings: you broke jungkook's heart you bitch!! , oral sex (m&f), protected sex (shocking tbh), CL as your bestie it doesnt get better than that! idk i dont wanna spoil too much

author's note: fucking finally dude!! i've been writing this since february but school was kicking my ass. now that i finished my exams and mercury is in gemini i was able to finish it. if you read this, i hope you enjoy it!

Inkphoria

You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping the flyer too tightly, rumpling the paper in your hand until you're pretty much sure it's ruined. It's the first day of June, and it's already too hot. The sun and humid weather are causing beads of sweat to form in your hairline and your white tank top to stick to your skin. Your jean shorts didn't feel this uncomfortable a few hours ago and you're sure the heat is causing your mascara to transfer to your eyelids and lower lashline. You've never needed a slushie and a smoke this bad in forever, even if you knew the later would make your parents lose their shit.

Inkphoria

You read it again. Your brain is trying to guess what font its written in, an excuse to try to steady your heart beat until your nerves ease a little and you can finally gather the courage to step into the damn shop. You've noticed a few people passing by giving you strange looks because maybe it hasn't been fifteen minutes. Perhaps you've been unmoving like an idiot in the middle of the street for longer than you want to admit.

Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.

'Its not that much of a big deal. It's not even that painful, trust me.'

You wish you could trust your best friend, but your best friend is also the same woman who assured you Cats was the movie of the year. Yes, not 'Cats: The Musical'. 'Cats', the movie.

'And this could be a great start to get out of your comfort zone and start living your life exactly the way you want to, not the way people expect you to. Not the way your family wants you to, not the way Adam wanted you to.'

But although her credibility could sometimes be questionable - like that time she also told you she'd tried marmite and 'honestly, it's not as bad as people make it out to be'-, you also didn't trust anybody in this world as much as you trusted her. She had always been your entire support system, the only one around you who never sugarcoated, who always treated you as an equal, who was always there for you to help you discover yourself and, at the same time, remind you of who you were.

'And it's gonna look so hot, too.'

That's it. Sticking the wrinkled flyer on your back pocket, your feet finally start moving. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing open the door.

The first thing you notice is that, thankfully, the shop is empty. The second thing you notice is the bright sky blue walls, a green undertone peaking through. Your eyes scan nervously the interior. Frames with tattoo designs and people modeling other different designs decorate the walls, some skateboards also hanging from the ceiling. A few plants in the corner, and two leather couches on either side of the room. Your scanning stops on the counter, where a girl with short, platinium hair and -what you guess is- the eighty percent of her body inked. Face included. She's been looking at you, a smirk tugging at her lips. Her tone is amused when she speaks

"Hi." she says. "You can come closer, you know? We don't bite."

Great. As if you couldn't feel more out of place, apparently you also couldn't look more out of place.

"Sorry." you gulp as you walk forward. "It's my first time doing anything like this."

She laughs this time, but it's not mean. It's not mocking, thank God, and the smile she sends you is as warm as the weather, friendly, luckily helping you calm down a bit. "A virgin, huh? JK's gonna love this." your eyes jump in surprise, but she's fast to wave her hands in front of you. "Just a joke. So, first time getting a tattoo. You have something in mind, honey?"

"Um, no. Not a tattoo. Not yet, I think." you wet your lips, regretting not reaplying chapstick before stepping inside. "A piercing."

"Oh! Cool!" she claps her hands, too excited for your own taste, pulling from under the counter a catalogue. "So, where will it be? Cartilogue? Nose? A lot of people are getting their septums pierced right now, though, so you might-"

"Nipples. Like, one of them."

Her gaze finds yours in surprise, although her face swiftly transforms again into an amiable expression. "Now, that's badass. Alright!" she skims through the pages of the catalogue until she finds the nipple piercing collection. You scratch your head before wiping your forehead sweat-free. "You can pick either barbells or hoops, although barbells heal faster and they don't move around as much. There's different kinds of metal, too. Gold or platinium. If your skin is sensitive, I recommend titanium. It's hypoallergenic and not as problematic."

The blonde keeps talking as you nod your head, a smile making its way into your face while silently thanking her for her easygoing personality. It quickly makes you feel comfortable and stupid for being so terrified of doing this.

Once you decide, settle on the cost and sign the papers, she stands up from the stool she'd been sitting on. "Ok, I'll go tell my coworker. He's been sketching tattoos all morning, it's time he gets to work!" she laughs, but suddenly your smile banishes and your throat shuts down.

"He?" your alarmed tone halts her motions and she looks back at your frightened expression.

He? A he is going to pierce your nipple? You're about to let a random stranger, a HE, see and touch one of your boobs and then pierce a needle through one of your nipples?

"Oh, baby, don't worry. I'd do it myself if I knew how to, but I only do tattoos. Most of our staff are on summer vacation so it's mostly just him and I. If you don't feel comfortable, which is totally understandable, you can wait until september when Minzy comes back and she can do it for you." It's her turn to scratch the back of her head as she adds: "but trust me, we're professionals. He's not a creep or anything like that. He's been doing this for a long time. He won't cross any boundaries."

September? You won't even be here in september. Fuck.

Sure, you could do it when you move back into the city. But this summer was supossed to be the summer. You already decided after your breakup with Adam that there would be no trace of the old you. That it was time to push yourself, to do the things that you've always wanted to do, unapologetically. To find the new you, the real you. To stop being scared.

So after going through you options for a few seconds and taking a deep breath, you make up your mind.

"It's fine. I can do it."

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"JK, sweetheart!"

Jungkook is finishing drawing a Chinese dragon when Mijoo opens the door without knocking. Again. He puts the pen down, rubbing his eyes. It's monday, a slow monday, not much work, and he had hoped it would stay that way until closing time. It's summer and Jungkook hates summer. He hates the heat, he hates being drenched in sweat, and he hates the fact that he can do nothing about it. Because working in the summer is terrible. Summer makes him lazy, makes him want to bathe in a tub full of iced water and not get out until he turns into a raisin and october comes. It makes him irritable. Summer makes him annoyed by people -like Mijoo, even if he loves her to death- and himself.

"I got a girl here who wants a nipple piercing, her first piercing by the way, so get your shit ready and bla bla bla. Straight titanium barbell. Also, don't flirt and don't be creepy. She almost ran away when I told her a male was going to be touching and piercing her tit, be mindful of that. She's too cute, if you want to get her number you should wait until it's done. I think that's it. I'll bring her in in a minute."

Mijoo leaves as fast as she talks, but Jungkook is already used to it. He's already used to the headaches her mouth causes too. He sighs before standing up, tying his too-long raven hair into the best bun he can manage. He washes his hands, sets the table up, sits on the chair and puts the gloves on. He's too busy sterilizing the jewerly when Mijoo comes back with you.

"Alright, my babies. I'll leave you to it." she turns to you. "He'll explain everything, from how the process will be to how to take care of it after it's done." she leaves before saying bye, closing the door behind her, and then he finally turns to you.

Your eyes meet and suddenly everything stops. He almost drops the sterilizing machine, his whole body tensing, going into panic mode as he recognizes you immediatly. His hands shake.

Of course he does. Of course he recognizes his high school crush. The too goody two shoes, too pretentious and too rich, too good for everybody and, most importantly, 'too good for Jeon Jungkook' girl of his high school dreams. Of course he recognizes the girl he had confessed his stupid crush to when he was sixteen. Of course he recognizes the girl who rejected and broke his young and foolish heart when he was a dumb teenager.

It doesn't matter that six years have passed ever since. He still knows every lock of your hair like the palm of his hand. He still remembers the shape of your lips and the exact shade of your eyes. He can still identify the body he fantasized about -and jacked off to- when he was a hormonal teen, now filled in all the right places. Now a grown woman.

Just one look at you after years and years of pining is enough to almost make him faint. And grow a boner under his jeans.

And by the look on your face, your eyes wide and your mouth agape, you recognize him as well.

Dammit.

He schools his features and clears his throat. Forces his body to relax and compose himself, because he's not a teenager anymore. He's also a grown man, who has matured, who now has much more experience with women than he did back then. He had already embarrased himself enough when he was sixteen to be doing it all over again. You're just another attractive girl in a sea of attractive women.

He turns to you. You still haven't said anything. Neither has he.

"Um, you can sit on the table." he manages, motioning to the set up in front of him. He watches you taking doubtful steps until you're sitting down, your eyes avoiding his gaze. He almost forgot you were here to get pierced. Holy shit, you were here to get pierced. To get your nipple pierced.

You're a professional, Jungkook. You can do this, Jungkook. You've seen boobs before, Jungkook. You've pierced nipples before, Jungkook.

Clearing his throat again and forcing his hands to stay by his side, he speaks. "The... The top." your gaze finds his, like a puppy about to get scolded. You look at your top, realization dawning on you. "You don't have to take it off. You can just pull it down."

So you do, pulling the straps of the white tank top down and dragging the fabric down with trembling fingers. No bra. Jungkook gulps as your breasts comes into vision. As perfect as he had imagined years ago. His cock twitches. Round, full, perky and so damn inviting he has to hold himself back from latching onto one nipple with his mouth around it and swirling his tongue over the nub until you're a pretty, moaning, little mess on his piercing tabl-

He closes his eyes for just a second before reminding himself to act like the 23 year old Jungkook he's tried so hard to become. The confident, assured Jungkook he is.

"Okay, this is how it'll go. First I'll clean it and scrub it to get rid of any bacteria." he's so glad he hasn't stuttered yet. 23 year old Jungkook doesn't stutter like 17 year old Jungkook. He's also glad he can pick the alcohol bottle and the surgical scrub without trembling. When he faces you again, you're watching his motions with your lip caught between your teeth. That has him swallowing the lump in his throat.

Making eye contact with him again, you take a deep breath and offer a small nod, so he gets to work. He can show you and himself he's a grown man. A grown man who can pierce a nipple without appearing like it's the first time he's seen a boob in his life. The sooner he does it, the sooner it's over.

Jungkook wets the paper towel with alcohol before carefully wiping over your nub with it. Your back arches, probably from the cold feeling, he guesses. He rubs it a few times before throwing it in the trash can nearby. He avoids looking at how enticing the soft peak is salluting him when he reaches for the marker. He doesn't say anything when he dots it with it, jaw clenched and his dick painfully stiff.

"Lay back." his voice low as he commands, turning away to get the clamp. When he slides closer, he tries to ignore the view: you, with your hair sprawled and your sweaty, shiny skin and your eyes focused on the cieling, nipple fully erect, like the star of one of his most erotic dreams. He extends his free gloved hand before he can stop himself, fingers carefully working the nub until he's sure it's painfully hard. Almost as hard as he is.

You gasp, your back arching again. He stills and looks at you, your cheeks flushed pink. Probably from the heat, he guesses again. Or at least that's what he tells himself. He can't stop himself from wondering how responsive would you be in a different setting, most likely his bed while his teeth play with your breast and his cock dives into-

"You okay?" he studies your face, your eyes not meeting his and instead still focusing on the white ceiling.

"Mhm." you reply with a small voice.

"Relax, alright? It'll be over soon." his voice is as gentle as he can, his fingers mindlessly caressing your breast to try to soothe your nerves. Or maybe it's just because he's a selfish bastard. Whatever it is, he forces himself to bring the clamp to your nipple, securing it around it.

"Take a few deep breaths. This will only take a second of pain and then it will go away." He misses the way your mouth falls open, but he doesn't miss the way your eyes squeeze tight as the needle goes in.

"Ah!" he definitely doesn't miss that either. He goes rigid for a second, because that didn't fucking sound like a cry of painfulness. It's breathy, and whiny, not too loud and, for fucks sake, if that's how you sound when you're getting fucked, he swears to God-

He feels your heartbeat under his hands when he puts the barbell in and then the bandage over it. He takes a look at you, chest moving up and down. And then you take a look at him and what he sees is almost enough to take you right there.

Reddened cheeks, drops of sweat framing your face and those eyes glazed with something he's seen too much in the women he's fucked throughout his life. They're half lidded, mascara adorning your long lashes and almost smudged, looking right through him.

"Jungkook..." and your voice, as you say his name -acknowledging him for the first time since you stepped into his shop, for the first time since you were sixteen-, it's hoarse, almost inaudible, like you just came all over his-

He's on his feet in an instant like he's been burned. "It may bleed for the first week, and it can be really sore. The swelling will eventually come down." he's quickly tidying up the table, a bottle in his hand that he hands to you without looking directly. "Wash it gently with this soap and warm water once per day. Don't touch it. Wear a comfortable...bra. If it gets crusty, clean it with saline. Not alcohol or any other thing you might clean a wound with. The soap I just gave you or saline. Nothing else."

He's pacing around the room as he takes his gloves off and throws them in the trash bin, too agressively maybe, then he keeps rambling, like he's hurriedly trying to make you leave as soon as possible. "Avoid pools and the sea. It takes about six months to a year to heal, so don't... don't touch it, don't play with it or..." he clears his throat, "don't let anyone else play with it. And if it gets infected, come back immediately and I'll take a look at it." which he honestly hopes it won't happen. When he faces you, your top is back on and you're getting off the table.

"Alright, um...I'll do that." clearing your throat, your hand gripping the doorknob. "Thank you."

But right before you can exit the room, Jungkook says your name.

"_____." when you turn around to face him, it takes a few seconds for him to make eye contact from across the room. "It was good to see you."

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"Let me see!"

It's the first thing Chaelin says when she opens the door to her appartment. It's on the second floor, small enough to compare it to most expensive appartments you'd stayed in throughout your life, but big enough for Chaelin, her cat and her -impressive- collection of acrylic nail kits and pairs of high heels. It's also big enough for her to offer you the only guest room until summer is over so you didn't have to, one, stay at your parents' place, and two, find an appartment in a short period of time for a short period of time.

When you left years ago, you did so with the thought of 'never looking back'. You never really expected to return here, of all places. Maybe visit your best friend for a weekend at most, have dinner with your parents on a saturday and then go back to the new life you'd made for yourself on a sunday.

But that was before you'd caught Adam cheating.

Tale as old as time: childhood sweethearts get engaged, move in together, son of a bitch sleeps with the assistand he told his girlfriend not to worry about, and then the brokenhearted girl packs her bags and leaves the cheating bastard begging for her to come back.

You'd be lying if you said you were surprised.

Throughout your life, you'd learned to expect many things, regardless of being sheltered and babied by your family since you were born. Watched too much Maury and Dr.Phil. Too much Gossip Girl to know what the deal with life really is.

So, thankfully, you'd only shed a few tears, mostly because your ego and self steem were slightly triggered. You'd realize long before that your feelings for Adam started to disappear once he popped the question and you said yes. Your love story began as teenagers but soon after graduating, the two of you went on different paths: you'd matured, grown into your twenties while he got stuck at 17 and never stopped acting as such.

So yeah, whatever, break ups are hard. But they're not as hard when the love is gone and the sole reason to stay with your partner is to please your parents. You were also right when you expected your mom to tell you to 'forgive and forget' because 'those things just happen, it's not a big deal, honey'.

But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

The lanky nerd with braces, glasses and an anime obsession much bigger than his hentai obsession, which is saying a lot. The shy, awkward classmate who'd stuttered his undying crush for you when you were just kids. That one who you had rudely rejected like the bitch you used to be in high school.

But my God, Jeon Jungkook was anything but a kid now.

You were shocked. You were gagged. Couldn't seem to fathom what was happening and what your eyes were seeing. It took you a while to close your mouth when you realized JK was Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

With messy black hair, a smoldering gaze free of glasses, piercings adorning both ears, and his right eyebrow,, the braces long gone showing perfectly straight - but still bunny like- teeth. The clothes he wore were loose, all black, but it was impossible not to notice the muscles of his back and arms, covered with tattoos from his hands to his forearms. You'd bet there were more of them underneath the fabric.

It was awkward at first. You didn't know what to do, or what to say. Didn't know if he rememberd you. So you chose to stay quiet while your body chose to react like it had never been in the presence of an attractive young man in it's entire life.

And oh, did it react.

He was reluctant, his old timid demeanor peeking through his newly adopted persona. But as soon as those hands came in contact with your skin, your whole body was lit on fire. Like you were 16 and losing your virginity over again and it was the first time a dude touched your boobs.

There shouldn't have been anything erotic about it -besides the fact that your entire breasts were exposed-, it should've been just a professional procedure. But those gloved fingers touched and pinched and suddenly you were too aware of Jeon Jungkook and the way you were starting to sweat profously, not due to the heat of the season.

You tried to distract yourself by looking at the cieling and not at his gorgeous face. Tried to avoid thinking about Jeon Jungkook and how his mouth would feel wrapped around you. Tried not to think about the way your panties were a second skin to your folds, and how tempted you were to grind your hips until you recieved some sort of friction with the jean fabric of your shorts. You wonder if he noticed you squeezing your thighs together. You hope not.

And then the needle happened. You never thought of yourself as a particularly kinky person. Sex with Adam was boring for the most part and you'd lost your libido for a long time. Stopped thinking about sex altogether. But the pain. The pain mixed with his hand rubbing soothing circles on your breast and his voice, as sweet as honey, guiding you through it. It made you reconsider a lot of things you'd once dismissed as 'weird' or 'deviant'

You swear you almost came right on his table.

And then your eyes connected, you made the mistake of calling his name like a satisfied woman who still needed more, and it was all gone. He stood up like a scared cat, gave you a bunch of explanations about the aftercare that you barely grasped without even looking at you and pretty much rushed you to leave.

So you walked, all the way from the tattoo parlor to Chaelin's appartment, mortified, and completely humilliated.

"Are you gonna let me see or not?" your friend says expectantly as you finally sit down after chugging a glass of iced water. You sigh, placing the glass on the table before carefully pulling down your top. "Oh my God, it looks so cool!" she gasps and you can't help a smile while she studies it in amazement. "Did it hurt?"

"Um, I guess." you keep out the part where you almost orgasmed, obviously, stopping her hand from touching when she reaches towards you. "Wait, no. He said something about not touching it for like six months or a year, I don't remember."

At that, Chaelin's eyebrows quirk up. "He? It was a he? Was he cute, at least?"

"You won't believe this..." looking away for a few seconds, you take a deep breath. "It was Jeon Jungkook."

There's a pause, a silence that fills the room when Chaelin's jaw drops. "Jeon Jungkook...pierced your nipple?"

You close your eyes, bracing yourself for what you're a hundred percent sure is coming.

"Ha..." there it is. "Ha ha..." you still know there's more. "Ha ha ha..."

Chaelin laughs hysterically for about God knows how long, while you keep drinking your glass of water unfaced, your mind drifting back to Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie, his tattoos and his stupid gloved hands.

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You know he's here.

Everything was cool, you were doing alright, having a great time with your vodka sprite in hand and your cute white bikini on. Chaelin was by your side, the guys were excited to have you back and thankfully, you'd avoided most questions about Adam and they'd avoided digging too deep into the topic. You'd sunbathed the whole afternoon, kept away from the water like he'd told you and ate the Hawaiian pizza Yoongi insisted on ordering despite Namjoon's and Jimin's complaints.

It's at night, when you're a little tipsy and your cheeks are flushed, that you feel it. You'd barely noticed Taehyung disappearing to let in a new guest.

You don't see him, but you feel him.

You're sitting on the pool tile steps, legs dangling and the water baely reaching your belly to make sure it doesn't touch your very sensitive and newly pierced nipple. Your back is facing the sliding glass doors of Hoseok's house, but the moment you hear his voice, smooth but animated as he converses with Taehyung, your body wakes up immediately, back straightening, goosebumps forming on your arms and nipples tightening against the fabric of your two piece.

You don't turn around, instead opting for downing the remaining of your drink and coming to the realization that, of course, Taehyung, social butterfly who'd always got along with everybody and remained friends with most people from high school, still keeps in touch with Jungkook.

You ignore him when he enters the pool, still peering from the corner of your eyes while pretending to be engaged in Chaelin's and Jihyo's conversation. Your mind sabotages you by taking you to that day a week ago at the tattoo parlor.

To the warmth of his hand, to the few strands of hair that his small ponytail couldn't keep together, to the way his eyes focused on such an intimate part of your body, to the endless ink decorating his skin, to-

Great. Now your bottoms are wet and not due to the water.

You don't miss Chaelin supressing a laugh and her not so subtle elbowing. You glance at her in warning and try to keep calm for the next fifteen minutes until Jin proposes moving to the living room to watch a movie.

"I'm gonna stay here for a little longer, guys." you say, after clearing your throat. You needed some time to gather yourself before being in a confined space with Jungkook.

"Are you sure?" Jin stops by your side to place a hand on your shoulder as everybody starts exiting the pool. "It's Mean Girls! You love Mean Girls! You never miss a minute of Mean Girls!"

Rolling your eyes, you wave him dismissively. "I know every dialogue on Mean Girls like the back of my hand, I think I'll be alright, Jin."

When everybody finally leaves, you take a deep breath, covering your face with your hands in an attempt to get him out of your head. Damn Jeon Jungkook and his irresisitble glow up.

"You okay?"

The unexpected voice startles you, a gasp finding its way out of your mouth and causing you to jump on your seat, heartbeat erratic as you instantly recognize who it belongs to. Your hand grasps your chest as if that would do anything to protect yourself against him.

"Shit, don't do that!" you say, the words almost getting stuck in your throat as you see him approaching you, still submerged in the pool. The more he nears you, the less water depth there is and the more visible his torso comes into view. Wich was exactly what you'd been avoiding.

Because Jeon Jungkook was ripped, as you'd imagined when you first encountered him.

Broad shoulders and strong biceps and chiseled abs and veiny forearms. Drenched hair, a full sleeve of tattoos and water dripping from delicious tan skin and all just so very hard. That paired up with a loopsided smile that does nothing but make you shudder.

"Sorry." he doesn't sound apologetic at all when he says that, the smirk adorning his features telling. "You just seemed a little off." you advert your gaze when he pushes his hair back.

"I'm fine, just...just wanted to be by myself."

"Oh" Jungkook's smile disappears. "I can leave, if you want me t-"

"No!" you're not sure where that comes from and neither does he, judging by the look on his face when your eyes find his. Eyebrows raised and mouth slightly parted, he's as surprised as you and there's an awkward silence for a few seconds. "Um, you don't have to. I mean, it's not my house, you can do whatever you want." you sniff and tame your voice, trying to seem cool and collected like you didn't just practically beg him not to go.

Ironic, considering this was exactly what you had been fearing for the past thirty minutes.

And then he smiles. A knowing smile. A smile that says 'you just totally checked me out and now you don't want me to leave'. A smile that you would have never associated with Jeon Jungkook of all people years ago. A smile that makes you want to look away but still keeps you in place.

"Sure." he says, closing the space between the two of you slowly but still leaving enough distance. "So, how's it going?"

You clear your throat, head high and determined not to let this man, or any man for that matter, turn you into a trembling mess. You're still you and you're not easily shaken by the opposite sex. Or at least that's what you helplessly chant in your head.

"Everything's cool. I'm on summer vacation now," a little white lie, "so I decided to-"

"The piercing." he says, the smile never leaving his face. "I meant how's the piercing."

"The pier- right." you almost miss the step he takes forward, all too aware of his height over yours but thankful for the centimeters that being propped on the stairs added to yours. "It's-" you almost, almost miss his knee touching your knee and him slightly separating your legs with his own inch by inch. Or how your thighs open unvoluntarely to welcome him in and how you can barely find coherent words to speak. "It's doing-" or the way his smile disappears and is instead focusing his dark stare fully onto yours.

"It's doing well." you finally say in a whisper, not being able to bring yourself to be louder.

He hums. "May I see it?" Jungkook wets his lips with the tip of his tongue and the action and his voice is enough to make you nod your head, bewitched.

His movements are unhurried, his hand coming up to tentatively come in contact with the flesh of your clavicle. His fingers skim through your skin upwards, his touch is feather-like when it wraps around your throat. You pant, and he stops but he doesn't move away, his eyes still focused on yours, studying you, daring you to pull back, to tell him to back off. But just a simple touch of his and you're fully under his control. It reminds you too much of the day you got that damn piercing.

Your lips are parted and for a moment he stays just like that. His body so close to yours but not close enough, and his hand slightly gripping your neck. Your pussy clenches around nothing and you can't wrap your head around the fact that something so simple sets your entire being alive and leaves you aching.

Then, as slow as he started, his hand travels from the front of your neck to the back, pushing your hair aside to carefully untie the straps of your bikini. He breathes through his nostrils, doesn't make a sound. He seems so collected it's starting to annoy you.

Instead, your breathing is ragged when the top falls down, exposing both your breasts to him. That's when he removes his eyes from yours and his jaw clenches. Your nipples perk up under his gaze, like they remember him and the effect he had on them just a week ago. You're at least glad you're not the only one affected but he seems to be a master at keeping it under wraps.

Then, his hand moves again, leaving goosebumps on your skin as it goes south. Jungkook takes his time, so deliberate you want to scream, until he's cupping your pierced breast, keeping away from the nipple just like he'd advised you a few days prior. You can't look away from his face, from his eyes observing you like you're a full course meal and he's been starving for days. You feel drops of water falling from his hair to your thighs, his thumb caressing your skin so delicately as it faintly nears your still tender nipple. Just nearing it, never touching it.

"Beautiful." his murmur is almost imperceptible and for a moment you think you've imagined it. Your back arches on its own, breast pushed against the palm of his hand, almost like your body is begging him to come closer, to touch you more, to feel you all over. He meets your eyes briefly, gauging your reaction, before going back to your chest. Suddenly, the grip on your breast tightens, fingers ever so softly squeezing your flesh. From your throat comes a mewl, your eyes shut and your legs close around his waist.

"Jungkook, please..." you whisper when you open your eyes. He looks at you, unvertainty written all over his face, lips bruised as if he had been biting on them too hard, gaze as glassy as yours. And just like that, the spell is broken. He blinks and his expression changes completely. Lips forming a straight line and jaw tight. His hand retracts, fixing your bikini top over your breasts before tying it around your neck like it originally was. Meanwhile your eyebrows crunch in confusion. But when you're about to start asking questions, he clears his throat.

"It's healing okay." he steps back, avoiding your eyes. "I'll see you inside."

Jungkook leaves the pool like nothing happened.

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Jungkook is fiddling, fixing the position of his glasses and combing through his straight hair with shaky hands, habits he's tried so hard to get rid of in his sixteen years of existence but still finds impossible to.

He can't help it. He's always been like this: the quiet and awkward kid in class who sits in the back, a misunderstood puppy in a sea of stronger dog breeds that could eat him alive. An outcast. Too geeky for his own good. Notebokes full of Dragon Ball doodles on the margins of the pages, the shelves in his room stacked with Marvel figurines, and a closet filled with outdated clothes that he has been inheriting from his older brother.

He has never been the type to stand out, always being overlooked by people like he's invisible. He doesn't mind though. He'd much rather be ignored than getting picked on by bullies like he used to in elementary school.

He never gets invited to parties. Ever. He's a nobody who barely speaks, and when he does he either stutters or manages to embarrass himself in one way or another. He's seen the look on people's faces when they look at him. Their eyes seem to scream 'weirdo' everytime he gets acknowledged.

So obviously the only reason he was invited to this particular party had a first and last name: Kim Taehyung. The only kid in Jungkook's entire life who didn't look at him in a funny way, the only kid who took the time to entangle in a random conversation with him after class and who seemed geniune enough to make Jungkook feel comfortable.

He's not sure how it happened, since Taehyung mostly hangs out with the cool kids. But somehow it did, and now Jungkook is uncomfortably standing in a living room full of drunk teens, looking directly at you.

You, the one girl Jungkook had been pining on for God knows how long. You, who are obviously too pretty, too popular, and way out of his league. You, with your plaid skirt and your polo shirt and those legs that never seem to end. You, who are sitting with your friends in a couch, drink in hand and visibly tipsy. And yet, he doesn't think he's ever seen anyone pull of the 'drunk-rosy-cheek' look better than you.

He can hear your laugh through the music and he already thinks it sounds better than whoever is playing in the background.

"Come on, Gukkie! Her friends are leaving and she's all by herself now! It's your chance" Taehyung's obviously drunk too because it took Jungkook a while to decypher his exact words. He'd disappeared for a while and now that he's back, he's pushing Jungkook in your direction.

"This was a mistake, Taehyung." Jungkook shakes his hair and steps back, quickly glancing at the front door to prepare his escape. But his new friend's grip on his hoodie keeps him in place.

"Guk, listen. The only thing you have to do, is walk up to her, and say 'hey I think you're, like, really pretty. Just letting you know. Bye!' That's it. Jung- Dude, Guk, seriously, look at me." Taehyung grabs Jungkook's cheeks, squishing them between his hands and forceing him to face him. "You've been crushing hard on her for years, my man. We're graduating and you won't see each other again. What's the worst thing that can happen? Getting rejected?"

Jungkook's eyebrows draw together. "Um, yeah?"

"Exactly! Getting rejected is not the end of the world, bro! It just means keep trying on other girls!" Taehyung releases his hold on Jungkook's cheeks. "I just think you're going to regret not telling your crush she's your crush. Who knows? Maybe in the future you two will get married."

Jungkook snickers, muttering a 'yeah right' under his breath. Still, he can't help the smile that Taehyung's words always seem to pull out of him.

"Now," Taehyung playfully slaps Jungkook before turning him in your direction again. "Go get 'em, tiger!"

"Okay," Mijoo's voice slices through Jungkook's memories. She's sitting on Jungkook's desk, munching on her brownies and looking at her coworker expectantly. "And then what?"

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, sits back on his chair, already feeling the effects of Mijoo's baked goods. "And then I walked up to her, like a damn fool, stutter and all. And I say:" he clears his throat, making an effort to do his best teenage Gukkie impression."'Hey, _____, um, so, I think you're beautiful and I've had a crush on you since seventh grade, haha, just wanted to let you know.'"

Mijoo rolls her eyes, still chewing. "And then what?"

"And then she looked me up and down, giggled, fucking giggled, Mijoo, and said 'Who are you, again?'" Mijoo gasps and Jungkook closes his eyes, trying to force that recollecion out of his head.

"What a bitch." she can't help but laugh before apologizing. Jungkook merely shrugs his shoulders and takes another bite of his brownie. "She didn't say anything else?"

"She said something along the lines of:" he clears his throat again, this time, doing an impression of you. "'That's sweet and all but, you and I... we're not the same. And I have a boyfriend, so...' She said that like I didn't know, like I wasn't aware of the school's it couple! Like I was dumb!"

Mijoo nods. "And now you want to fuck her even more than you did in high school."

"I- No! Well, yes. Fuck, of course I want to sleep with her! But I just... can't."

"Why not?"

"Did you hear anything about what I just told you or were you too concentrated trying to get high?"

It's Mijoo's turn to roll her eyes. "I heard everything you just told me. I just don't understand what the problem is. You two were sixteen. Sure, she was a bitch about it, but Lord knows I've been a bitch my entire life and now I'm not anymore." Jungkook raises an eyebrow at that. "Okay, sometimes I can be nice. But the point is..." Mijoo finishes her piece of brownie before getting off of Jungkook's desk. "It's been, what? Nine? Ten years? People change, JK. You're the best example of that. You want to fuck her and she obviously wants to fuck you too. You're both adults." she wipes her hands on her shorts. "I think it's time you fulfill that high school fantasy of yours."

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You've made up your mind.

And by you, it means Chaelin has made up your mind.

It didn't take long to convince you though. That last interaction with Jungkook cause too many emotions stirring within you. It left you hot, it left you bothered, it left you confused. Sure, it also left you a little bit embarrassed like the first time, but above everything else, that interaction with Jungkook left you absolutely livid.

Because who the fuck did Jeon Jungkook, formerly known as Guk, Gukkie, Jungukkie, and currently known as JK, think he was to come near you, speed your heart rate's up, and then runaway like that?

You've spent days thinking about it. About that face, about that body, about those hands and- shit. You're doing it again.

You've spent days trying to push those intrusive thoughts. Spent days trying to bury what happened. You've spent days trying to keep quiet, not telling anyone about it and just wishing that stupid spark of desire simply went away.

But it has just been simply unavoidable. You haven't been able to ignore the sleepless nights with your brain drifting back to that night and forbidding your hand from slipping under your panties. Or the excessive amount of time during the day where images of him suddenly popped in your head and wouldn't go away, even with you squeezing your thighs to try to make the ache go away.

So you ended up ranting and ranting and ranting to the only person you could confide on, who is obviously your best friend. Your best friend, who's too smart for her own good and knows you too well for your liking. Because apparently your moodiness and snappy remarks couldn't go unnoticed.

And after explaining the fiasco over a bottle of wine -and minutes of endless laughing on Chaelin's part because, again, it's Gukkie you two were talking about and, according to her, this was "the most karmic thing I've ever seen"-, she gave you the best advice an older sister could ever give.

"Fuck him."

"I know right? Fuck him!"

"No. I mean, fuck him."

And now here you are. Right inside that room you stepped in weeks ago, confronting the man in question with the same confidence that has always distinguished you from others and trying to act like the fluttering inside your belly wasn't nauseauting.

"A date."

"Yes."

"You want to go on a date with me." this wouldn't be so hard if Jungkook didn't look so delectable in a plain white t-shirt and ripped jeans. You cross your arms over your chest, doing your best to not look down at the exposed skin of a man who obviously worked out a lot and apparently, never skipped leg day. "What's the catch?"

He's sitting on his chair, back resting comfortably and legs spread, narrowing his eyes at you and probably wondering why the girl at the front desk let you in without an appointment. Also, probably wondering if there was a catch to all of this.

"There's no catch. I just want to go to the fair this weekend. I'll ask Taehyung for your number and text you the date and the exact place we'll be meeting. Unless..." your quirk one of your eyebrows. "Unless you're already planning on how you'll chicken out this time."

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Of course, Jungkook says yes to going on a date with his high school crush but spends the following days overthinking every single thing.

He can't help but feel like it's kinda sketchy. What if you're planning your vendetta on him? What if you don't even show up and he ends up there looking like a damn idiot? What if you hate him and are just messing up with him? What if that incident in high school is going to repeat itself?

"If she doesn't show up, you simply move on and never speak to her again. It's that simple. She can't have that much power over you to cry about something like that." Mijoo had said that same day she let you in the tattoo parlor after you'd asked to see Jungkook. Jungkook's coworker hadn't even question you and just motioned you to Jungkook's room with a knowing smile on her face. Later that day, Jungkook had scolded her about it and she'd simply shrugged.

He considers cancelling, eyes reading the 'won't be able to make it, sorry (sad face emoji)' over and over again and fingers hovering over the send button so many times he's lost count. But then he remembers that comment of yours about him chickening out and Jungkook starts seeing red.

How couldn't you understand he's just terrified of you rejecting him one more time? Sure, Jungkook is now an adult who doesn't get butthurt over stuff like that. He's experienced too much after graduating from high school and he's a much stronger individual than his fragile self back was back then.

But something about you just makes him feel so... weak.

He still finds it impossible to concieve where he got the courage to approach you like that at Taehyung's pool, or how he brought himself to touch you for longer than a minute without coming in his pants. He'd enjoyed it too much. Allowing him to see you so exposed, just for him. He'd be so tempted to kiss you right there and then, to run his hands up and down your thighs and fully wrap your legs around him to let you known how much you'd affected him. Once you called his name, it was like he'd finally snapped out of it and backed away like he'd been burned by you. He spent the next twenty minutes trying to keep himself from pulling down his pants and jerking off in his friend's bathroom.

It's terrible. Because he feels like the teenager he used to be when you're around. Shy, insecure and overall a mess. You showing up in his life after so many years and now apparenly being interested in him seems like a dream that he's not sure he wants to keep being in or wake up from before it's too late and he falls back into that tumoltuous longing that will inevitably end up in heartbreak. His heartbreak.

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It's saturday night, he's standing by himself in the crowded fair at the spot. You're fifteen minutes late and he's already about to turn back and dip out. He feels too awkward and the nerves are eating him alive.

You're not going to show up. You're not going to show up and now he feels and looks even dumber than the time he told you he was crushing on you. You're not even going to show up and now he's going to come back home, get drunk by himself and curse your name for-

"Hey!" he turns around to the sound of your voice and sees you running towards him. "Sorry I'm late! I couldn't find my phone and spent like thirty minutes looking for it. Turns out, Sharon Stone, was taking a nap on top of it and I didn't even notice."

"Sharon Stone?"

"Chaelin's cat."

To be honest, he's too surprised to process your explanation right away. He might also be a little speechless because that sky blue sundress looks too good on your skin and your eyelashes are so long, framing your beautiful eyes, and your lips are all glossy and kisseable that it takes him a while to find his own voice.

He clears his throat. "It's alright." scratching the back of his head, he momentarely adverts his gaze from you in an attempt to not get distracted by how soft your hair looks and how much he wants to wrap it around his hands in a ponytail. "Um, where do you want to go first?"

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Almost an hour and a half later, when the sun has already disappeared and you're both surrounded by colorful lights, Jungkook decides to buy the both of you hot dogs and a drink and you both settle down on a bench.

You've been walking all over the fair, going from booth to booth, playing any game in sight Jungkook dared you to -he obviously had a competitive streak-: from the ballon and dart games, to the shooting games, to the bumping cars, to the ball-in-basket one. To say you were having fun was an understatement.

You'd almost regretted setting the date up. You were sure he wouldn't even show up and if he did, you were scared of how awkward things could get between the two of you. And if things were awkward, you were sure it would only take less than thirty minutes for the both of you to part ways and never talk again about such failure of a date.

To your surprise, none of that happened.

The conversation was flowing, both of you acting like you were strangers on their first date getting to know each other, which, to be fair, that's exactly what it felt like. There was a slight banter, teasing each other when one of you lost in whatever game you were playing while the other was obviously winning. There were laughs and a funny feeling in your tummy whenever you'd walk side by side and his arm brushed yours.

There was no stiffness on his shoulders, no mention of the past or your previous encounters, no acknowledgement of the blatant sexual tension you'd experienced before, not an ounce of avoidance whenever your eyes met his and he was even sure of himself enough to place a hand on your lower back or briefly interwine your fingers with his to guide you through the mass of people.

It felt like you'd both unspokenly agreed on making each other feel comfortable enough to have a good time.

"I didn't think you were going to show up, to be honest." you suddenly say, taking a sip of your strawberry juice and thankful to finally let your feet rest for a while.

Jungkook looks at you, hot dog mid air and eyebrows almost disappearing into his hairline. "You didn't think I was going to show up? I didn't think you were going to show up." you simply shrug, lowering your gaze seepishly, the beginning of a smile on both your faces. He surprises you by tilting your head in his direction with his forefinger. You watch him watching you, a little dazed, a little lost in how his dark hair messily falls over his forehead and his equally dark eyes study your face, his thumb swiping over your lower lip. "You um... There was ketchup right there." he lies.

"Oh" you say, feeling your face heating up. "Thanks. Red doesn't really match this dress." you manage a smile and tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear.

At that, he eyes your dress for a moment, mouth slightly ajar. He's debating on whether or not to say something but you beat him to it.

"I'm sorry, by the way."

"For being late? I already told you it's fin-"

"No." you shake your head. "For... that time when we were young and I was such a concieted brat." you say, looking away , trying to find anything else that's not his pretty face. "I thought I was a queen bee back then. I was annoying and rude, specially to you. I..." you lick your lips. The cherry glittery gloss was already gone. "I thought it was cute, what you said. There was no reason for me to act like that. I know this doesn't make anything right but..." when you turn to face him again, there's still the same expression on his face. "I'm sorry."

A few seconds go by before it's him who's shaking his head. "It's okay. It was a long time ago, anyway." he smiles at you, although it doesn't reach his eyes and seems sorta forced. You sigh, and he takes your hand. "Let's go to the ferris wheel."

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tell you're tense. You're sitting right beside him in the ferris cabin, your back is all straight, you're facing forward and he believes you haven't blinked for what feels like an eternity. He thinks it has everything to do with your conversation a few minutes ago. You were probably not content with his response but what could Jungkook do? There was really no point in apologizing for something that happened years ago, but at the same time, he didn't want to hold anything against you like a resentful asshole because it was really not who he was. But there was still a little bit of stingyness inside of him and he didn't know how to make it go away.

At the end of the day, here you were, on a date with him that you'd asked for, getting along and asking questions about him and laughing at his jokes and trying to start all over again.

But then the ferris wheel starts moving, and he finally understands why you look so uncomfortable.

It's the way you immediately grip his forearm, nails digging in his skin and he swears he hears the smallest gasp forcing itself out your throat.

"Are you... scared?" he tentatively asks.

You say nothing for a while, not moving an inch. He would laugh if you didn't look so pained about it.

"I don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters." you finally say through gritted teeth.

"It's not really that small and ferris wheels are not rollercoasters. " your nails dig deeper and he winces. "Okay, okay. You don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters, and that includes ferris wheels. So why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know. I've never liked ferris wheels but you seemed excited about it, so..."

There's a silence after that in the environment, neither of you exactly sure of what to say or how to act. Until Jungkook moves one of his hands hands until it's resting on the one who's holding onto him for dear life, fingers caressing yours. The warmth of his hand spreads through yours and although it's almost July and you can already feel your sweaty back staining your dress, it's oddly comforting. What's more comforting even, is him twisting his body towards you and talking with the calmest and most soothing tone you've ever heard.

"Look at me." you do instantly, unwillingly, and kinda wish you hadn't. It's almost as if your body will do anything he says without question. Like he has some sort of power over it to just react however he wants. His eyes bore into yours and suddenly the cab doesn't seem so suffocating. "It's just you and me right now. We're not even on a ferris wheel." the corners of his mouth turn slowly upwards. You zone out the environment, suddenly too aware of him and how close he is and how loud the beating of your heart is to your own ears.

"Jungkook."

You swallow the knot in the back of your throat when he removes his hand from yours. It almost makes you protest, - now realizing you've losened the tight grip on his arm- , before it craddles your face, keeping you in place while bringing his body closer.

"You have to stop saying my name like that."

With his thigh touching your thigh, your whole demeanor melts. When he leans closer, and you feel his breath fanning over your lips, your eyes shut closed.

"Tell me I can-" he starts to say.

"Yes." you finish for him. He doesn't doubt on closing the distance between you two. His lips touch yours and your body shakes in excitement. It's just him lightly skimming your lips with his but it's already too much and at the same time, not enough. It has you deepening it, yourself moving closer when he kisses you again. It has you relaxing against him, the tenseness prior disappearing and making you arch your back when his tongue asks for permission.

But it's exactly then, the moment you open your lips to him, that has you losing your mind.

The sparks fly, traveling from your head to your toes and then settling on the pit of your stomach as soon as the kiss starts to turn desperate and rough. When he nibbles your lips with his teeth, it makes you mewl and whine and your nipples tight against the cotton of your dress. It makes the metal barbell to feel uncomfortable, slightly painful. And when he goes back to being messy and filthy with his tongue tangled with yours, your thighs close on their own.

He forces himself to pull his hand back and bring it down, finding the parting of yd opening them for him. "Wait," you say, your fingers wrapping around his forearm as you try to catch your breath."The ferris-" he shuts you up with another kiss.

"We're not on a ferris wheel." he reminds you, a soft whisper against your mouth. And for whatever reason, you believe him.

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"He fingered you on the ferris wheel."

"Yes."

"And you came before the ride was over."

You take a small sip of wine, your eyes focusing on the TV where a rerun of the Golden Girls is playing, although, to be fair, lately you haven't been able to pay much attention to anything else but a certain brunet with doe eyes and kisseable lips. "Yes."

She hums, stealing a handful of popcorn from the bowl between your thighs.

"How long did it took? Like five minutes?"

There's a pause in which you clench your jaw, your fingers twitching around the glass in your hand, and then you answer. "Probably less."

There's another pause, and then-

"Ha...Ha ha...Ha ha ha-"

You let her laugh. It's okay. You knew you had it coming.

Chaelin knows the pillow you throw right at her face is also something she had coming.

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It's not that you're mad.

Jungkook and you had a great time on that fair date, he made you laugh, bought hot dogs and drinks for the two of you and got you off inside the cab of a ferris wheel on record time with those magical, long fingers of his. Technically, there shouldn't be anything to be angry about.

Except it's been a week and you can't stop thinking about him, about wanting more, and about those words that he left you with after the ferris wheel ride ended, when you had tried to return the favor.

'Next time, maybe.'

And there hasn't been a next time.

The thought of texting him or giving him a call to ask for another date is persistent in your mind. It remains while you do the laundry or wash the dishes, while you shower, while you eat or while you spend your days at the beach with Chaelin. There's always the incessant desire to reach out towards your phone, unlock it and dial his number to beg for more.

But you'd never been one to beg, so you resist the urge everytime that feeling starts to creep up on you and it washes over you like a wave. You silence your phone and try to concentrate on making the most out of your summer.

It's one random night, when you're tiredly dragging your feet across Chaelin's apartment's carpet, yawning and ready to succumb to a well needed slumber, that you see your phone screen's lighting up with a message.

Your heart pathetically leaps inside your chest when you read his name.

'you free on saturday?'

You wish you could say you ghosted him, ignored his text and moved on with your life until it was him who begged you for another date. But the truth is you opened it in a matter of seconds and typed 'i'm free, why?' back in a rush with trembling fingers.

So now you're on the passanger seat of his car while he sits on the driver seat, the first saturday night of July, like he's Danny Zuko and you're Sandy Olsson, watching a vintage movie in a drive-in theater which plot you don't give a shit about, even if Jungkook's date plan idea made something inside of you churn with adoration.

And the only reason why you don't give a single damn about the movie playing in front of your eyes, is because you're hot. Way too hot. And the reason and cause is none other than the boy-now-turned-man sitting on your left.

You barely exchanged words when he picked you up, just rode in silence until you got to your destination and you bet he can feel as well as you do the tension in the air.

You've surveyed him a few times from the corner of his eye, noticing him fiddling with the rings around his fingers and shifting in his seat from time to time. And if the sight of his fingers bring memories that you've tried to bury to keep yourself from lunching towards him, a brief glance at his forearms, adorned with ink drawn through his golden flesh -doing a poor job at concieling the veins running underneath- and his skin-tight jeans wrapping those muscled thighs of his is enough to have you be the one squirming in your seat.

A woman can only endure so much, and you come to that realization thirty minutes into the movie.

"I want to suck your cock." you say, a stern expression on your face as you turn your body in his direction.

Jungkook frozes as your voice slides over him. It takes him a couple seconds to look at you, shock widening his eyes and parting his lips.

"Huh?" he manages, his grip on the steering wheel turning his knuckles white.

Without separating your gaze from his, you gather your hair and tie it in a ponytail with the hair tie previously around your wrist. You don't miss the quick glance he sneaks into the curvature of your neck and the valley between your breasts.

Inching forward, closing in on him, you place one of your hands on top of his thigh, the action making his whole body tense. "____..." he whispers your name in a warning that doesn't sound convincing even in his own ears.

You smile, your eyes never wavering from his as your hand inches upwards, slowly caressing over the fabric of his jeans until you finally come across what you were looking for.

His hand flies to your wrist, stilling your movements. "____, this is not-". He starts, but his voice gets stuck inside his throat when you palm his undoubtly growing erection.

"Shh." your shaky breath fans over his cheek and you force yourself on your knees on the passanger seat in a more comortable possition to stop the trembling to reach them.

You fumble with the belt holding his pants in place, then with the button and finally with the zipper. He helps you by lifting his hips to pull his jeans and boxers to his thighs and you have to bite back a mixture between a gasp and a moan at the sight below you. You haven't even seen Jeon Jungkook naked all the way, but the mere sight of his hard cock with pre-cum glistening on his crown is probably the sexiest thing you've ever had the pleasure of appreciating.

It gets sexier when you wrap your hand around the base and his body melts in the driver seat, throwing his head back with his eyes shut. It gets even sexier when you finally lower your head, swirling your tongue over the head before finally engulfing him fully in the wet warmth of your mouth.

"Shit." his voice is tight, uneven as his hand loosely grips your ponytail, as if careful not to accidentally hurt you and break the glorious moment.

Although you wouldn't mind at all. Because the moment your hands are on him, and your tongue is on his shaft, that's the only thing you care about. Your belly is twisting, an undeniable wet spot on your panties as the fabric sticks to your folds, and the more you suck Jungkook, the more you want from him. His earthy taste is addicting and the soft little whimpers he occasionally can't prevent himself from are making you want to milk him until he can't take it no more. There's this desire within you to whorship him and his cock like you had been dreaming for the past weeks.

"This is s-so fucking h-hot." he rasps between ragged breaths, the bobbing of your head, sliding up and down his dick as your hand works the centimeters your mouth can't take is about to make him faint.

"Getting a blowjob?" you joke, your throat starting to feel sore as you kiss his leaking tip.

"N-no." he draws in a rough breath when you take him all of him again. "You giving me a blowjob... T-the f-fact that anyone c-could see us..." he darts a quick glance at your body, your ass up in the air and your dress sliding down, almost exposing you completely. "The fact that-ah! Shit..." he squeezes his eyes when he feels a glob of your spit lubricating him.

There's a sudden need to make you feel the same, to touch your skin and have you shaking the same way you have him. So one of his hands travels from your spine, to your perked ass, finally dragging the cotton of your dress to allow himself to see your thin white panties. "The fact that anyone could see you l-like this," he murmurs, regaining a little bit of control when he squeezes one of your cheeks. "letting t-them see you s-sucking my cock and..." he smirks when he feels you gasping around him, his fingers trapped between your thighs and pushing them inside your heat easily "and letting them see me fingering this pretty little pussy."

Soon after that he's cumming in your mouth while you're cumming around his fingers.

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At first, it's mostly on weekends when you see each other. Weekends of stolen kisses and soft sighs and whispering against each other's lips. Then weekends turn to week days, sitting on grass while sipping on refreshing beverages, drawing each other laughs, elbows touching as you walk around the park side by side because the both of you are too scared to interwine your fingers together.

Jungkook feels content like this: sitting on the sand with you between his thighs, admiring the sunset while nuzzing your neck and inhaling your scent every now. He likes waching you enoying your strawberry ice cream, almost forgetting the chocolate chip one already melting in his hand.

"If you were an ice cream flavor,which one would you be?" you ask him, relaxing against his chest.

"Rocky road."

"Why?"

He shrugs behind you. "Everyone likes rocky road."

You hum, playfully rolling your eyes. "What about me? Which ice cream flavor would I be?"

"Lemon sherbet, in the summer."

"Lemon sherbet? Out of all of the flavours out there, you're rocky road and I'm lemon sherbet?"

"Lemon sherbet, in the summer." he corrects.

"Okay, fine. Why?"

"You're boring and basic."

You gasp, trying to feign outrage but not being able to repress the laugh that escapes your throat. You elbow him, his laugh mixing with yours while taking the time to wrap his arms around your form, the breeze blowing your hair allowing him a spot between your neck and your shoulder. "You're boring and basic, but once you have a taste..." he presses a small kiss on your skin, causing the tiny hairs on the nape of your neck to rise. "Once you have a taste, specially on the hottest day in the middle of summer, you can't stop tasting and licking until there's no more lemon sherbet left."

You suck in on a breath when he craddles your jaw to face him. "It's been my favourite flavor since I was a kid." he kisses you immediately after, his lips swallowing the small whimper now stuck in your throat.

You close your eyes as his tongue opens your mouth, arousal blasting your insides and something much, much deeper that you fear to even name shredding your chest.

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The beginning of august comes faster then you two realize, but what you both do realize is how hard it's becoming to stay away from each other.

It's been thirty days of dates happening almost everyday, sharing high school memories and anecdotes of the time you spent away from each other. Hours of getting to know each other and opening up to each other. From failed relationships to new friendships. Of park dates walking side by side and fingers now interwined because you both realized one day that, fuck it.

It's difficult to sleep when you realize you're starting to catch serious feelings for somebody who was just supposed to be a fling. It's hard to sleep when his face, his voice and his touch and thoughts of missing him when you don't see each other start haunting you at night.

It's hard for Jungkook to focus on work when you're everything that's occupying his mind. Because he has a hundred sketches to make but he's too busy thinking about the hundred different sketches he would make of you.

It's hard not to send him a goodnight text, just like it's hard for him not to reply in a matter of seconds, almost as if he was already waiting to recieve it.

Jungkook thinks of you at night. Of how pretty and absolutely perfect you are for him. Of the taste of your lips, the way your hair feels between his fingers, or the flush on your cheeks when he makes you cum as droplets of sweat accumulate between your breasts. He thinks about your voice. He also thinks about the amount of hours left to be able to listen to it again.

But mostly he thinks about how ridiculous this situation is. Because he was stupidly crushing on you when you were only teenagers, daydreaming about a chance with you. And now his crush is long gone and he's starting to realize that he's falling, and falling fast.

You, too, think of Jungkook at night. Of his ability to bring a smile out of you, to soothe you with just a few words and filling your belly excitement, happiness and feelings you're sure you've never felt before.

Jungkook's managed to imprint himself in your dreams, and you, in his.

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Getting drunk with Jungkook is fun and messy.

It's fun because he lets loose, he stutters a lot like he used to do when he was a teenager and he makes you laugh louder than ever before. It's messy because he has no control over his hands as they explore your body, clumsily taking your clothes off as his mouth laps at the breast he's allowed to touch.

He's more forceful and dominating too, pinning your hands above your head, and commanding you to keep them right there, on the pillows of his bed. When you rebel against it, your fingers finding the hard planes of his chest, he pulls away from you and places them back where he left them. "Don't make me tie you up." he threatens, and your body shudders beneath him.

He sucks, and bites and leaves marks all over your skin, grunting in response to your moans. Creating a path of kisses from your lips to your stomach, his shoulders separating your knees, opening you up only for him. And thankfully, when you reach down to tug at the strands of hair framing his face, he lets you, because he knows you need something to hold on to the moment his tongue eats you up. He leaves his fingertrips on your thighs as he keeps you in place, not allowing you to runaway. Just forcing you to take it as he takes from you.

And when you cum, he doesn't back away. He keeps sucking, and licking and punishing you with his mouth until you're cumming over and ove again, screaming and begging for his cock.

Having Jungkook over you, both completely naked, skin to skin and only sweat in between is more than you could've ever fantazised about. He slurls your name when he puts the condom on. He would do anything to feel you raw, but he also knows he wouldn't be able to last a minute. The sight of you spread open, with your cheeks darkened by a crimson blush and your hair tangled all over his pillow is a picture he wants to keep forever.

He enters you when you call his name, your voice dripping with need. He stretches your warm and wet felsh, slowly easing himself into you at first, until he's fully inside and your bodies are completely in union. A shiver runs down Jungkook's spine when he looks at your contorted face in pleasure, your lips forming an 'O' and your pussy clenching around him.

"Oh, my God." you moan into the dark of Jungkook's room, and even then, he can clearly appreciate every curve of your body lifting off the mattress to connect with his. He lowers himself on his elbows on either side of your head, caging you in and capturing your mouth with his.

"I know, baby." he murmurs. It's hot, in the middle of August but suddenly Jungkook doesn't hate summer as much as he used to. Not with you sharing the heat with him. "It's way beyond what I could ever imagine." You nod hurriedly against his lips, your arms finding their way around his neck as he starts rocking in and out of you.

"It's too good." you cry, when he hits a particular spot that has you rolling your eyes in bliss and gripping his waist tighter with your legs against you. Your fingers thread through his hair, not bothered by the beads of sweat gathered on the nape of his neck.

"Too good..." he agrees, not missing the shiver that's shaking your own frame when he picks up his speed. "You have no idea what I would do t-to fucking feel you with n-no barriers between us," his movements become frantic as his hips slap against yours, his jaw clenched as he keeps talking, "to s-stuff you full of my c-cum over and over again until it won't stop d-dripping."

Jungkook's voice against your ear has you trembling and your orgasm nearing closer, your nails scratching down his back as his thrusts overpower your form. "Would you like that?" he asks with his voice strangled.

"Y-yes. Anything y-you want."

"You'd take all of my cum like a good cum-slut?"

You hate the fact that that's what makes you come undone. The twisting and knotting in the pit of your stomach finally snapping until you're holding on to him like you never want to let him go and he's following soon after.

Because if Guk, Gukkie, Jengukkie was not only able to make you come in less than a few minutes with his fingers or his tongue, but he was also able to make you cum instantly just by calling you a good cum-slut, that means you're fucked. Like, really, really fucked.

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There's a knot in Jungkook's stomach and a suffocating grip around his vocal chords as he caresses your skin. The sun is rising in the distance with the first rays of light entering his room through the window. Your shamphoo is intoxicating him, numbing him and enticing him to bury his nose in the tangled curls pressing against his chest. Your arm is thrown across his stomach, your breathing leavig goosebumps all over his body.

"It's too early. Go back to sleep." you mumble against his heart. He wonders if you can feel it dangerously speeding up.

"I can't." he says, voice struggling to stay balanced. "I have to tell you something."

You hum in response, sleep still interwined with your body, your arm tightening around him. You sigh in content, expecting him to elaborate.

He wets his suddenly dry lips. "I don't want this to end. In fact, ____.... I want more. Need more."

"Jungkook..." your whole body goes rigid right away, untanglling your bodies from each other and sitting up on the mattress.

"No, listen to me." he mimicks your movements, rapidly grabbing your hands to make you look at him. His eyes are expressive, a mixture of fear and hope swirling in his dark irises. "I wake up everyday, and you're the first thing I think of. I go on about my day, and I keep thinking about you, wondering what you're doing and counting down the hours until I get to see you again. I spend every night dreaming about you, and when we'e together, the only thing I can think about is how I wish I could stop time so I don't have to say bye to you the next morning. ____, I-"

"Jungkook, stop please." you shake your head, pushing away from him and in desperate need of air. You press a hand against your chest, beating back the throb of pain while the other curls in a tight fist, the feeling of your fingernails digging into your palm less painful than the ache inside your heart. "This... This wasn't supossed to happen, Jungkook." you start pacing around the room, as if trying to find an exit while avoiding his gaze. "This was just a summer fling. That's all it was, I'm supposed to come back to the city in two weeks and-"

"A summer fling?" a sardonic sneer comes out of him. "Oh my God, I can't believe this is happening again..." he mumbles to himself before rising from the bed. You stop immediately, a shiver quaking through you as his impressive frame intimidates His eyebrows are drawn together and his dark eyes are void of any prior emotion. "You're going back to the city in two weeks? And you didn't care to tell me until now, after I just spilled my guts to you?"

You eyes fill up with uncomfortable tears, reaching one arm towards him. "Jung-"

He flinches, taking one step back. "A summer fling is all I mean to you?"

"Ju- "

"Look me in the eyes, right now, and tell me that's all I mean to you. A summer fling." panic crawls up your throat. There's the need within you to confirm, to stare into his beautiful and stern eyes and tell him that, yes, that's all he is to you. But you've never been a good liar. So nothing comes out. You opt for wrapping your ams around yourself wishing they were his and lowering your eyes to the ground. "I think... I think you should leave."

Those are the last words he says to you, and the last thing you see when you turn around one more time after gathering your clothes, is his back as he looks out the window.

You allow yourself to cry the exact moment you step into Chaelin's apartment. Your friend is sitting on the couch, bowl of cereal in hand and a fresh cup of coffee sitting on the livingroom's table.

"Hey, you're early tod- Baby, what's wrong?"

"Please, don't laugh."

That morning, you lay down for hours on the couch with your head on Chaelin's lap while she softly brushes your hair as you cry, hiccup, fight through the pain in your heart and relate to her as best as you can the latest events.

She doesn't laugh at all.

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"She'll come back." Mijoo's slurred words do nothing to put Jungkook's state at ease that night. He simply shrugs, fingers clenching at his sides, frowing into his drink before gulping down the bitter taste of vodka in one shot. "Seriously, I think she's just afraid. My ex was the same."

"Comparing her to your ex is not the analogy you think it is."

"Ugh, shut up. Things didn't work with my ex because she was a bitch." Jungkook gives Mijoo a pointed look which she responds to by rolling her eyes and sipping on her rum coke. "Your girl is not a bitch. She used to be a bitch. What she did this morning was bitchy, but, like I said, she's just being a pussy. If she only wanted sex with you, she wouldn't have been doing couple stuff with you the entire summer."

"Whatever. I don't care." he lies and Mijoo knows he's lying but decides to drop the subject fo now.

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"We can't keep spending our days smoking weed." Chaelin speaks over Blanche's voice on the TV.

"I know. I'm just sad."

"You have to come back and tell him how you feel."

"I know."

There's a beat of silence before your friend kicks your thigh with her feet.

"I know and I will." you mumble through red eyes and smoke clouds.

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It's September first and it doesn't feel like Jungkook's birthday at all. He's been trying to focus on his work, alternating between isolating in full hermit mode and hanging out with friends to drink away his sorrow. The days have gone by and before he could realize it, he woke up today with over twenty text messages wishing him a happy day and a throbbing hangover.

He dresses up on autopilot. First a cotton shirt, then a pair of jeans and lastly, his Nike's. He doesn't bother tying his sneakers just like he doesn't bother taking a shower. He smokes a cigarette for breakfast, the death stick making him feel nauseaus on an empty stomach. And then he goes to work.

He's been repeating the same routing for the past weeks and he's not thinking of changing it, not even on his bithday.

He spends hours drawing, tattooing and drawing some more between yawns. He ignores texts an phone calls and simply waits until the day is over to go home, go to bed and forget about the fact that you're probably on your way to the city and that he hasn't crossed your mind not even once.

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Inkphoria.

You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping cup of ice cream as it melts down your fingers the more you wait. The shop is already empty and it's starting to darken out side, and still you're so hot. Your shorts are heavy and your tank top is sticking to your skin. You didn't even bother to put on any make, although your eyebags definitely needed some concieling and your lashes some dimension to hide the fact that you'd been crying for the last few days.

'You're crazy about him.'

Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.

You've lost count of how many times your best friend has given your advice, or simply encouraged you to do something you've been too scared to try.

'And he's cazy about you too.'

Chaelin might be wrong about marmite and the movie Cats, but she's definitely now wrong about anything regarding your and Jungkook.

That's it. You briefly close your eyes, inhale a deep breath then release it slowly. You start walking. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing the door open.

The tattoed blonde looks up from the counter the second you come into view. She smiles at the distance between you two. "You can come closer. I won't bite."

You clear your throat, stalking closer to her. "Is he-"

"He's in the back." she replies before you can finish you question. You close your mouth, clear your throat and nod your head.

"Thanks, Mijoo." she gives you a small wink, her smile easing your nerves like she had three months ago.

She watches you disappear. She shakes he head, her smile meeting her eyes. "I told him so."

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Jungkook ignores the knock on his door at first. It's almost ten and the parlor is about to close. He just has to finish this last fucking sketch so he can grab his shit and go the fuck ho-

Knock knock.

He growls, exhasperation cursing through him. He runs a hand through his messy pile of hair, his rings tangling between the strands, making him wince in pain. "Come in." he grunts under his breath. The door opens. "Mijoo, I really have to finish-"

He stops dead in his tracks as soon as he sees you.

"Hey." you say after a moment of hesitation.

"Hey." he replies and although there's something inside, deep in his chest, shouting at him to stand up, run up to you and kiss your face while he tells you how beautiful you look right now and how happy he is to see that you're still here, he decides against it. "Listen, ____, I'm pretty busy-"

"No, you listen to me." you cut him off abruptly. He looks taken aback and is already opening his mouth to say something, but you're not having it. "Please, just... Let me talk."

Silence looms between the two of you for a while, a staring contest defying each other to back down. When you take one step inside and close the door behind you, he sighs and leans back against his chair.

You move towards him slowly, your lip caught between your lip going through your mind for the speech you'd been preparing the last few days. Your hands are sticky due to the the sugary treat liquifying in your hand. "I know there's no reason you should give me another chance after rejecting you in high school, and there's definitely no reason why you should forgive me for the way I shut you out a few weeks ago. You've been confessing your feelings to me since we were teenagers, and now it's my turn to tell you exactly how I feel about you."

"Jungkook, the truth is... I like you so much. I like you more than I've ever liked anyone. Ever. I said this was just a summer fling, and I was lying. I was lying because there's no way a simple summer fling could make me feel the way you do. There's no way a simple summer fling could make me want not just summer with you, but also fall and winter, and spring and every summer that comes next."

You hadn't realize when your eyes filling up with tears until the sight of him starts blurrying in front of you. His fingers reach yours, his thumb comforting on your skin. "____, it's okay-"

"I'm not done yet." you sniffle, gathering enough courage to continue. "I brought you a lemon sherbet because you said it was your favourite. But you also implied I was your favourite, and I want to keep being you favourite, but now it's already melted and-"

The corners of Jungkook's lips start pulling upward as he tugs you towards him, his heart loudly jumping inside his chest. "Shhh, come here."

He takes the ice cream from your hand and places it on his desk. Then he's helping you onto his lap, your head tucked under his chin and your arms wapping on their own around his neck.

He doesn't care about your sticky fingers or the wet stains of your tears in his shirt. The only thing he cares about is the fact that you're right there, letting him engulf your frame and drown in the scent and warmth he'd misses so much.

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The first day of June has Jungkook sweating and wishing for a haircut. Jungkook usually hates summer. He hates the fact that he has to shower at least twice a day, and the fact that the heat is almost unbearable to sleep in and also the fact that he's easily sunburnt.

This year, however, Jungkook likes summer a little bit more.

"Excuse me, miss. Do you have an appointment?" it's the fact that you're starting to wear those summer dresses he loves so much, and the fact that your skin glows under the sun like glitter, and also the fact that he can lick ice cream off of it whenever he desires.

"I am the appointment." your giggle is almost childlike, playing with Jungkook's heart strings. You shut the door behind you, nearing him. You also seem to always have that flush on your cheeks. Although he likes to think part of it is due to him. He doesn't say anything else as he puts his pencil down and instead turns around in the chair to have you immediately on top of his thighs.

Yeah, he also likes the path your lips trace from his cheek, to his jaw, ending at the juncture between his neck and his shoulder. It still makes his body quaver to this day.

"Let me see." he murmurs against you forhear, his hand already working on unbottoning the front of your dress.

"Mijoo hasn't left yet." you whisper back, your smile impossible to supress and the faint whimper impossible to hide when his fingers expose your breast and tug at the titanium barbell adorning the already hardened nub.

Jungkook loves knowing he was the one to do that, and also the only one to play with it. He doesn't hesitate when he dips his head. "As if we'd ever cared about that." he adds, wrapping your sole point in his mouth.

He fucks you on his studio table with your legs around his waist and his tongue playing with both your breasts, the tattoo sketches long forgotten, scattered on the floor as he whispers against your flesh something that sounds a lot like 'I love you'.