#I just think 13 would get a huge one sided crush on him but also be like

[wizardlocation]

Ambassador getting overly clingy with 13!! Since I want them to have more interaction than originally planned I do really think that Ambassador would project way too much of his own problems onto 13 and do more harm than the good he thinks he's doing by fussing over him.

[catt-leya]

13/05

rick grimes x fem!reader

warnings: age gap, masturbation, voyeurism, claiming, praise kink

Summary: Rick never touched you...but he watched

"Now?", Rick's deep voice vibrates in your body and you sit down on your bed, "Yes, please."

Groaning, he puts his head back and the vein on his neck comes out, "This is wrong in so many ways. So unbelievably wrong."

"I know," and you pull off your pants and panties.

With your legs spread, you sit in front of him and immediately his eyes lower to your wet center, "Baby, your father is going to walk in any second."

"Please, just this one more time," you pout and defeated Rick sits down on the edge of the bed and mutters, "I'm going to hell for this, guaranteed."

His eyes are on your exposed pussy and you notice yourself getting wetter, "You're not touching me."

It's true. Not once has Rick touched you in an inappropriate way. 

Not once has he kissed you.

You know full well he wants to, but that little line your age sets for him, he just won't cross.

Yes, you're young as hell, but you're also a woman of age, yet no matter how many times you've offered yourself to him, he's never accepted.

You know he won't touch another woman, but he never touches you either and the only thing you can get from him is this.

It started rather accidentally and maybe in an embarrassing way.

"I can take her home. I have to get up early tomorrow anyway and I was going to leave now," Rick's pretty lips move and you stare at him openly.

The glasses of wine you've been drinking only make his beauty intensify and you reach for his hand, which he immediately pulls away from you and instead grabs your upper arm tightly because you suddenly start to sway.

"I'll take her to bed and put a bucket next to her. You can stay here for now," Rick doesn't pay any attention to you at all and as your father sighs and nods his thanks, Rick pulls you to his side and leads your swaying body out, "Have you even had alcohol once in your life before?"

Chuckling, you shake your head and try to reach for his hand again, "Nope, why?"

This time he doesn't pull it away from you and instead sighs, "Because you're drunk as hell."

"And you're gorgeous," you blink up at him and he rolls his eyes, "Like I said, drunk as hell."

You squeeze his hand tighter and press yourself against his body, "I think you're gorgeous even without wine-" a short hiccup interrupts you "beautiful." 

A soft snort breaks the night and he tries to push you away from him a little, but you cling to him like your life depends on it.

You've had a huge crush on him for a long time, and you adore him. 

You don't know when it started and when you started imagining him touching yourself, but now it's practically impossible for you to cum without having his face in your head or imagining his hands on your body.

His long fingers closing around your hand so you wouldn't fall would feel so good around your neck.

Groaning, you press your boobs against his side and you notice him wince, "Stop it."

At his rough voice, the tips of your boobs rise greedily, "Why? Don't you like me?"

Again he pushes you off him and pushes open the door to the house with one hand, "That's not on the table here at all. So just leave it alone."

You stumble over your own feet, but Rick holds you upright and you whine, "Answer the question."

Sulking, you refuse to take even a step and Rick growls in frustration, "Fuck, move your ass."

He stands so close to you that you have to crane your head back to face him, "The question, Rick."

Annoyed, he rolls his eyes and hisses, "I think you're pretty. Is that enough of an answer for you, or do I have to throw you over my shoulder to get you into bed?"

All you hear is "pretty" and "get you into bed" and you reach for his belt.

Your drunk body is way too slow though and Rick grabs your wrist before you even get near his belt, "Wow, what are you doing?"

You try to get to his waistband again, but his grip is unyielding and you cry, "Please, I think so often about how you'd feel in my hand."

He wouldn't let you close your hand around him, but right now the temptation is greater than ever.

How you offer yourself to him and beg for it does not leave his cock cold and your big eyes and the advanced lip in your beautiful face, let him think of forbidden things.

But you're only in your early 20s and he'd rather chop off his hands than spoil such a gorgeous young thing like you, especially in your drunken state, so he musters all the willpower he has and growls sternly, "I mean it: stop it and get your ass upstairs."

You clumsily make your way up the stairs, Rick walking close behind you to break your potential fall.

You try to make your hips swing, "You want me, don't you? Is it my age? Don't you think it's hot to lay a young woman?"

Rick takes a deep breath and you turn to face him in the middle of the stairs: "Just think how soft my skin would be under your fingers and how firm and hand-sized my tits are."

At the word tits, Rick's gaze immediately slides to your boobs, but a second later he forces himself to turn his eyes back to your face.

In that one small second, though, he saw what you promised him. 

You would indeed fit perfectly in his hands.

Swaying, you lean forward, "Doesn't it turn you on to think of all the ways you could corrupt me for all the men after you?"

His pants are stretched to the breaking point and he forces himself past you, pulling you up the last flight of stairs by the hand, "Go on, go to your room and change. I'll wait here until you do."

Pouting, you actually do as he says and as you disappear into your room, he reaches over his pants for his cock and straightens in. 

He can't remember the last time he'd been this hard. 

Maybe a few months ago when he saw you in those shorts while gardening, or that time you asked him to bring you underwear from a run and he had to think the whole way back about what your ass would look like in the underwear he chose.

Lost in thought, he takes your quiet, "Okay, I'm ready." Hardly true and is already looking forward to jerking off in his shower later while thinking about you.

That's the only thing he allows himself, and he doesn't feel quite so much like a pervert.

Still thinking about his shower, he takes a step into your room and then stops as if rooted to the spot.

Yes, you are lying on your bed.

You are lying naked on your bed.

Naked, with your legs spread wide.

Your hair is spread out like a halo on the bed and your pretty legs are positioned so that he can see right on your pussy.

Your pussy that shines wetly and into which you now slide your fingers.

"Rick," your low moan echoes far too loudly through the room and his cock twitches.

Your fingers disappear into your hole and again you whimper, "Please Rick."

He can't move, can't stop staring at you.

You realize you wouldn't be able to get this stubborn man to fuck you, but you're so incredibly horny for him you can barely stand it, and pathetically you reach for the last idea your alcohol-addled brain can come up with, "If you don't touch me, that's okay. But please stay here. Just watch me. That's all I need."

Seconds pass in which the soft smacking sound of your fingers is the only sound in the room before Rick takes a heavy step in your direction, "Okay."

But now it has become a strange routine where Rick sneaks into your room every now and then and instructs you on masturbating.

Actually, that night when you first asked him to, he had resolved to just watch, but after a few seconds he couldn't help the first comments and praises, and then when he even just saw your pussy twitch and your moans get louder with every word he said, he kept it up. 

Instead of just watching, he instructs you how to finger yourself and each time you come after a short time.

Even now he sits in front of you and murmurs in a low, raspy voice, "Come on, show me how wet you are for me, baby."

Without taking your eyes off him, you slide your finger between your labia and collect some of the wetness, then hold it out to him.

Moist, your fingers gleam in the dim light of your candle and Rick murmurs softly, "Good girl. This is just for me, right?"

Hectically, you nod and wait for further instructions.

The fear that your father might hear you dims his voice and his words are rough and an octave lower than normal, "How many fingers do you want to use today, baby?"

Your eyes dart to his crotch and he notices how greedily you're staring at his cock, which is showing in his pants, "You want my cock right?"

"Yes, Rick," your voice is so weak he can barely hear it, "Baby, you know you can't have it."

Again you nod and he bites his lower lips, "Well, but you'd need at least four fingers for me to even have a chance to fit in your tight cunt."

His words send a shiver down your spine.

Rick knows by now exactly which buttons to push in your head to make your clit swell and you squirm under his gaze.

Even now you are trembling with excitement all over your body and Rick clears his throat: "Come on, baby. Start with one finger and then you can use more, okay?"

"Hmmm," slowly you slide a finger into your wet hole and immediately your back lifts off the mattress and you squint your eyes.

Just the thought that it could be Rick's finger is enough to make you moan his name and immediately he hisses, "Shhh, keep it down or I'm leaving."

Panicking because you're afraid he'll make good on his threat, you press your free hand to your mouth and muffledly whimper, "It feels so good."

"I know, babygirl. Now be a good girl and play with your clit for me, will you?" his voice seems to have come closer and when you open your eyes a crack, he has leaned over and is resting his chin on his palms to get a better look at your gaping hole, "Baby?"

You nod and do as he asks.

Immediately your legs tighten and you draw little circles around the puckered knob.

It would be a hell of a lot better if it were Rick's rough fingers, but following his instructions is enough for now to make you shiver and insert a second finger with a muffled moan.

"That's it. You do that so well for me," languidly you see him again now and can barely breathe as he slides even closer to you.

Closer than he normally would be, until his broad shoulders rest between your ankles and you can feel his breath on the inside of your thighs.

Still he doesn't touch you and as you let a third finger disappear inside you and spread yourself wider for him, he's the one who groans.

You're a goddess and he can't believe you want him so badly that you're going along with his rules.

He would have thought you would find a new one after the first time, but each time you begged him to come to you and how could he refuse?

Each time your fingers slide out of you, your juice drips onto the bed and your soft weeping and whimpering fills the room.

"You're pretty for me, right?"

"Hmmm"

"Speak it out, baby."

"I'm pretty for you Rick," towards the end your voice breaks and you push the last finger inside you. 

You hear him chuckle softly, "Yeah? Do I treat you so well that you're a good girl just for me? That's what you like. Being my good girl."

The stretch is unfamiliar and you bring out, pressed, "You're the only one who gets to do this to me, Rick. The only one."

Your pussy is overstretched and your clit throbs against your thumb, "Yes, I love it. Oh God, I love it."

With trembling legs, you keep fucking yourself, listening to Rick's praises over and over. Soft "That's my girl" and "So good for me" are all you register before howling, "I'm cumming, oh God."

Your thumb quickens and as you feel Rick's shoulder against your calf, you explode. 

It's the first touch he's allowed while you finger yourself, and that alone is enough to bring you to unimagined heights.

Your pussy tightens around your fingers and you have to struggle to keep them inside you as you arch your back and moan, "Oh God, Rick. Rick...I...Rick."

You don't even realize you've taken your hand off your mouth until Rick lunges at you and presses his hand over your mouth, "Fuck, baby, I know you came hard, but trust me your father sure doesn't want to hear you moan my name."

Frozen, you stare up at him.

His hips are heavy between your still-trembling thighs, and his hard cock presses against your hand and still-throbbing pussy.

He too seems surprised at what he has done and releases his hand from your open mouth before returning to his original position.

"Please fuck me, I promise I'll be quiet too," the plea comes across your lips as it does every time and you know you've never been this close to hearing a "yes" from him as you are right now, but close doesn't mean he'll give in and hesitantly he shakes his head, "No, baby."

Smutty May Masterlist

Taglist: @hail-yourselves   @bean-is-reading   @chanlvr2   @criminalwalkingsupernatural   @sunshinevirus   @toxic-ink    @kingtwhiddleston    @bloodycherry22    @vane28282    @bamslover    @revesephemeres    @emo-potato-virgil    @mrsashleybarnes18-blog  @starsaroundmyscxrss  @starkstiless  @easystreet07 @darylsonlylove @your-shifting-gurl @strnqer @dreamtofus @lincolnswidow @rickswh0r3 @iluvdixon @sinsandsweetness @beekassyy

[jeonqkooks]

our beloved summer | jjk (06)

You made a vow to hate Jeon Jungkook ever since he packed up and left you without a single explanation, but when he shows up at your door after years of radio silence, it turns out that maybe your resolve isn’t as strong as you thought.

pairing: producer!jungkook x songwriter!reader

genre/warnings: exes au, fluff, angst, eventual smut, swearing, kissing (omg k1ss1ng omg WHO IS IT ??? 😦), tbh this is the only warning i wanted u guys to read cuz 6 chapters in and we finally get sum action i feel like that's a win lmaooooo, jimin being Real as fook, unbeta'd cuz uhm i'm a godless menace who should be conked on the head, once again we are severely lacking jk in his own fic lol i'm owning up to this 🤗 BUT! this is probably the last chapter where jk feels like a side character lol apologies my dudes

rating: PG-13

word count: 8.1k (honestly i wrote obs6 just so i could get to obs7 lmao that's why it's a lil bit shorter)

note: my apologies if this sucks. you are legally allowed to stone me if you hate it. but i hope you don't hate it. but if you do hate it don't tell me just stone me lol 🤐 why am i so unhinged with this update

series masterpost / playlist ; moodboards ; taglist

— as always, i’d appreciate any thoughts or comments you may have, and please drop a like and/or reblog if you enjoy reading ♡

I can see you starin', honey Like he's just your understudy Like you'd get your knuckles bloody for me

Exile - Taylor Swift (ft. Bon Iver)

The picture is fucking terrible.

“Jimin, what the fuck,” you grumble, staring at the huge framed photo on the wall, taken on the day of the opening party. You, Taehyung and Jimin are gathered on the floor of the dance studio, with boxes of takeout neatly sitting between the three of you. “I look like ass.”

Jimin barely glances at the wall, just continues to stuff his face with the dumplings that you ordered. “You look fine,” he says absentmindedly, mouth full, continuing to munch on the food despite your little dilemma.

“Bitch, I have my eyes closed.”

“It’s not that bad.”

“I look like I’m in the middle of a sneeze.” You cross your arms in front of your chest, squinting at your photographed self again. The more you look at it, the more irritated you become.

Realistically, you know nobody would pay enough attention to notice the immortalized visual of your fluttering eyes, and you yourself wouldn’t care about it that much. Maybe you would even laugh in good spirits and poke fun at yourself as you often do. Make a meme of it for the group chat.

“What’s the big deal?” Jimin asks.

You shrug petulantly. “I told you. I look like ass.”

Yeah, true, but it’s also more than that.

It’s the fact that the person standing next to you looks so good that you must voice your grievances. It’s the fact that he looks so much more than just good. 

The guys stop eating to look at you. You wonder just how much of what you’re feeling is written all over your face. Regardless, they don’t comment on it. 

One of them clears his throat, shaking the whole thing off.

“Did you tell Yoongi anything yet?” Jimin asks.

You poke at a lone dumpling with your chopsticks, popping the ‘p’ when you say, “Nope.”

“Damn, Y/N,” Jimin scolds you. “It’s been three weeks. He doesn’t want to push you for an answer but the man has got to be suffering.”

You flick a piece of spring onion garnish at him. It lands on his hair, a single bit of green sitting among golden locks. “I don’t know what to tell him!”

“What do you mean you don’t know?” Jimin shakes the onion piece from his head and chucks it back at you. “Obviously you say yes!”

You exhale through your nose, then take a bite of your dumpling. You nibble on the fried dough, stretching out the silence, delaying your response.

It hasn’t even started, and it might not even start. But you’re already thinking about all the things that could go wrong. Yoong is your friend, first and foremost. He’s a good friend, and you would be crushed if you lose that relationship. 

What if he hurts you, or you hurt him?

Sometimes, people are meant to hurt each other even if they don’t mean to.

Yoongi hasn’t seen your pieces in all of their jagged glory, how they’re only meant to reflect the light but never be healed by it. He’s still blissfully unaware of the ugly thoughts that have a home inside your head, and you’re afraid if you let him in, he’d realize it’s a place he doesn’t want to be. It’s hard to love a broken thing. You wouldn’t want to love you either.

Maybe this is the real reason that’s been holding you back all this time. Maybe it isn’t Jungkook - though he certainly isn’t absolved - but it’s you, and how you just don’t know if you’re someone who deserves to love and be loved. You’ve felt inadequate more times than you can count. You’ve been left before. Who’s to say it isn’t going to happen again?

You’re well aware that this is a bad way to look at things, but can anyone really blame you? You still have a heart, and despite how fragmented it is, you still want to protect it.

“I know that look,” Taehyung says, parting your fog and pulling you back to him. “You’re overthinking again.”

You roll your eyes. He knows you so well, but does he have to call you out every time?

“I’m not overthinking. I’m regular thinking.”

“Right. And to normal people, that’s overthinking.”

“It’s just…” you wonder out loud, gaze on the floor. “What if I go all in, and Yoongi sees me for who I am and thinks that I’m just an utterly sad person who can’t be loved? That I’m too much work when he’s got literally thousands of people throwing themselves at him left and right?”

Taehyung stares at the side of your face as he bites the inside of his cheek. His tongue soothes the spot, his jaw clenching once. “He’s not going to think that.”

“You don’t know that,” you say, the corners of your mouth tugging down.

“You’re not unlovable just because one person didn’t love you right. So stop it with that bullshit, because I love you,” he says, voice serious. Even Jimin stays silent as he listens to his friend, his eyes flickering between you and Taehyung. “And Jimin loves you. Hobi loves you.”

You merely blink, because you hate it when he’s right. In all fairness, you understand. This is the same thing you would tell him if the situation were reversed.

You deflect anyway. That’s what you do best.

“You don’t count,” you tell him with an unserious scoff, your tone starkly contrasting his. “You’re my family.”

You taste something bitter as soon as the words leave your mouth. You should know better than anyone, that just because someone’s your family, doesn’t mean they have to love you.

Taehyung reenacts the blinking guy meme before chuckling, holding a hand over his chest like you’ve just wounded him. “Ouch.”

“You two are getting nowhere,” Jimin interjects. “Just call Yoongi.”

“And say what?” you ask.

“I told you. Say yes. God, you’re so dense sometimes.”

You reach over to jab a finger into his side, making him hiss and shuffle away from you.

“That wasn’t nice,” you grumble.

“Well, somebody’s gotta say it.” He gives you a look, eyebrows raised for a few seconds before he lowers them and grows more stern. “Come on, Y/N. You know you don’t want to say no, or else you would’ve turned him down already. You said you wanted to start dating again. Yoongi is practically on his knees offering himself to you. What are you waiting for?”

There’s a voice in the back of your head - tiny, barely audible - that whispers, Who are you waiting for?

“Fuck it, I’ll say it,” Jimin continues. “It sucks balls that Jungkook hurt you, but you can’t let that affect you for the rest of your life. Not everyone is going to hurt you. You’re not even giving Yoongi a chance just because someone else did you dirty. If you keep always thinking about the worst possible outcome and banking on it to happen, then you’re never going to get anywhere. I love you, dude, but y’know.”

You stare at Jimin with your mouth slightly open, stunned into silence. When you glance at Taehyung, he’s surprised too, though probably not as much as you.

After a couple of minutes, you say, “Wow.”

“Tough love. I have my moments.” Jimin shrugs casually, like he didn’t just drop a truth bomb on your head. “But also…” He picks his phone up and types something in. Your phone instantly buzzes with a notification.

“Open the link I just sent you,” he says.

“You are literally sitting across from me.”

“Just open it! I made you a playlist.”

“Aw, Jimin, that’s so cute,” you coo softly, reaching over to pinch his cheek before he swats your hand away. You unlock your phone to see what Jimin made you, because that is some friendship hall of fame stuff right there. However, when the link redirects you to your music app, your smile immediately drops.

Aaand he’s back.

You stare at the screen for a good ten seconds to try and find your bearings, flabbergasted at something that is quite honestly very on-brand for Jimin if you think about it. “You made me a playlist called Dick Appointment with an eggplant emoji and the tongue out emoji and it’s mostly just Yoongi’s songs. Even the playlist cover is from his Valentino shoot.”

“So you can get it on while Agust D plays in the background!” Jimin grins, and you could just smack it right off his face.

“Park Jimin, who raised you? You are vile.”

“Validate me,” he demands. Oh, you would smack him. You really would. “I spent hours making that playlist.”

“It’s literally just Yoongi’s songs.”

“Yeah, but I had to curate an experience. I can’t just dump every song into a playlist and call it a day. I gotta make sure they fit the vibe.”

“I literally just heard the most profound shit from you not even two minutes ago.” Then, you turn to Taehyung with an exasperated look on your face. “Why would you let him do this?”

He just waves a dismissive hand in the air, like Jimin isn’t even there. “I’m not responsible for the stupid shit he does.”

Jimin crosses his arms in front of his chest, both eyebrows raised dramatically as he gapes at you. “You both suck. From now on, you can make your own sexytime playlists.”

“Nobody even asked you to do that!” you cry.

“Yeah! Which makes me an even more considerate friend,” he says. “Ugh. Whatever. Go call Yoongi.”

“You want me to do it now?”

“Yes. Because I know you’ll wuss out when you’re alone. You can stay and put him on speakers for us to hear or you can go out into the hallway. Come on, chop chop.”

“No, I have to text him first,” you protest. “What if he’s busy?”

Jimin narrows his eyes at you suspiciously, but allows you this after a moment. “Fine.”

You take out your phone from your bag that’s lying carelessly on the floor to draft a quick message to Yoongi. 

[12:59] You: got a minute?

The three of you go back to the food, abandoning the previous topic of conversation in favor of something lighter and meaningless or else you would go crazy waiting for Yoongi’s reply. After you’re finished, you and Taehyung are in the middle of putting away all the empty containers and soda cans when your phone buzzes again. 

You go to grab it to look at the notification, hands already starting to sweat.

[13:17] Yoongi: for you? always :)

You turn back to the guys to find them already looking at you. Jimin wiggles his eyebrows suggestively while Taehyung just stares at you.

“Time to get your whore on,” Jimin says in an exaggeratedly sultry voice.

You turn to Taehyung for help. “He’s bullying me.”

“Ignore him,” your best friend tells you gently. “Go call Yoongi.”

When you take your phone out into the hallway, you make sure to go to the far end of it, near the main entrance so the two dorks can’t eavesdrop. You’ll tell them everything once you come back anyway, but you don’t want them within earshot while you’re in the middle of it.

Yoongi picks up your call on the third ring. In the background, your ear picks up on some chatter.

“Hey, princess,” he greets you. Then he holds the phone away from his ear to tell someone that he’d be back in a bit.

“Hey,” you say. “Where are you?”

“Just at a fitting. I have an ad campaign to film next week,” he answers. “Did you call just to get my whereabouts?”

“No, I… If you’re busy, we can talk later.”

“We’re still in the middle of lunch break anyway. What did you want to talk about?”

You briefly regret not taking a minute to psych yourself up before. You suck in a deep breath, which eases your nerves for just a second, long enough for you to say, “Yes.”

You’re met with brief silence from the other end of the line, which only makes your palms more clammy than they already are.

“Yes?” he echoes confusedly. “Yes what?”

“Yes,” you say again. “To…”

The silence commences once more, and lasts longer than you think you can handle. Then, you hear him stop in the middle of a breath.

“Oh.” A subsequent chuckle in response to the lightbulb that must’ve been switched on. “To that?”

“...Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

It feels like you two have invented a secret language that nobody else could understand. A single syllable, bouncing off the metaphorical walls of your conversation. Two idiots sharing the same brain cell.

“Yes?” he continues to prod, but at this point, you know he’s just teasing you.

“Yes! God, stop making me say it again. We sound so stupid.”

He graces you with a hearty laugh that makes you fight back a sheepish smile, even though there isn’t a single soul in sight to witness it. Yoongi makes you so fucking shy for some reason. Your nerves dissolve momentarily as you lean against the wall, your index finger running along a crack in the paint.

“Hmm, I wish you would’ve told me this in person,” he says, his voice soft.

“I can’t handle you in person. You’d tease me so much.”

“Because you’re adorable when you’re flustered, that’s why.” He waits a second before adding, “You’re blushing right now, aren’t you?”

“You’re being overly confident, Min.”

“Maybe,” he responds easily. “But am I right, though?”

“Shut up.”

When Yoongi said he would cook for you, you almost gasped.

“You can cook?” you had asked. It wasn’t an earth-shattering revelation or anything, but you suppose you’d never given much thought to the hidden sides of him. 

“Y/N,” he laughed then. “I’m a great cook. I could probably make a pretty decent career out of being a chef.”

“I didn’t know that,” you told him sheepishly.

“There’s a lot of things you still need to know about me.” It sounded like a promise. Like I’m willing to show you me. Like I’m willing to take the first step if you’d be in this with me too. “Does that sound like a good idea? You, me, dinner at your place?”

“My place?”

“Yeah, so you’ll be more comfortable. I’ll come over.”

This one simple gesture shouldn’t affect you that much, but it does. You appreciate that he’s considerate even when it comes to the littlest things. You swell with gratitude for the thought he puts into this, into putting your comfort first. It made you feel a bit better about yourself, calmed your stormy sea of thoughts enough to rationally accept the fact that he genuinely cares.

Regardless, it doesn’t stop you from spending most of the day obsessively cleaning your apartment. Even - and especially - your bedroom, although you’re sure that is not where the night will end. Every surface is spotless, not a single speck of dust to be found. It’s like the goddamn Pope is coming over for a house inspection. 

You haven’t had a first date in… fuck, how long has it been now? Nine years? It’s almost been a fucking decade already? You honestly can’t tell if that’s embarrassing or not.

But you remember the last time.

College, freshman year, with Jungkook. His yellow piece of sticky note that he slipped inside your favorite book. His adorably flustered expression when he timidly stood in front of you in the campus library. The way he was trying so hard to be confident and charming throughout your first dinner together. How he ran back to you after saying goodnight.

No.

You shut your eyes and shake your head, warding off any Jungkook-related thoughts before they could send you spiraling. You can’t reminisce about your ex while waiting for someone else to show. Yoongi deserves better, and that’s what you’re trying to be.

You’re not exactly sure how nice you should dress tonight. Yoongi told you that you could be clad in sweats for all he cares. If the dinner didn’t hold any connotation other than platonic, maybe you would’ve really donned your loungewear like you were merely having Taehyung and Jimin over for pizza.

You’d completely forgotten all the things people worry about in the early stages of dating, when you want to impress the other person but don’t want them to think that you’re trying too hard. 

Calm down. It’s just Yoongi. He’s seen you ugly crying with mascara running down your face, for fuck’s sake.

In the end, you opt for a sweater and a comfortable skirt. Casual. 

Yoongi rings your doorbell about ten minutes later than when he said he’d be there, holding a bag full of groceries. The visual alone makes you bite back a giggle and subsequently fail. You believe this is what people would call husband material.

You take his coat and guide him into your home. “Welcome to my humble abode,” you say shyly, gesturing around as you lead him into the kitchen to show him where everything is. Why are you acting like this? This isn’t you. If Taehyung or Jimin could see you right now, they would probably laugh. Hoseok would straight up be rolling on the floor.

You barely breathe as you watch Yoongi take in his surroundings. It’s intimidating, even though you know it’s just Yoongi. 

“I actually don’t know what I expected, but I like it. It’s very you,” he comments, smiling.

“What does that mean?”

“It means that it’s cute,” he says, throwing you a wink as he leans against your kitchen counter.

You avert your gaze immediately. “Oh… Thanks,” you reply, fiddling with the hem of your sweater. “So, uhm, what are you making? How can I help?”

“Just sit down. I got this.”

“Yoongi,” you say his name in protest. “I want to h-”

“I’m trying to romance you here. Let me do that,” Yoongi says, his smile turning lopsided as he starts emptying the contents of his grocery bags. Even though his tone is light, the gentle reminder of tonight being a date shuts you right up.

You take a seat at your dining table, though you can’t really sit still. As Yoongi starts working, you absentmindedly talk to each other about your day, about his campaign, about Seokjin’s album. At one point, you get up to creep over to his side when the smell of whatever he’s making becomes more prominent. You try to peek at the pot, curious, but he just shoos you away by bumping his hip against yours.

When you give him a small pout, you pretend not to notice the way his eyes dart to your mouth. You retract yourself from his personal space, choosing a spot on the other side of your kitchen island, staring at his back as he works.

You watch him expertly navigate your kitchen like he’s been here before. When he’s finished, he makes you sit down, not even letting you help bring the food to the table.

“What is it?” you ask once he’s settled in his seat, everything plated in front of you.

“Kimchi jjigae,” he says, a proud look on his face. “My mom’s recipe.”

It’s endearing, and it makes you smile.

For the most part, Yoongi lets you eat in peace, though there’s still a couple of flirtatious comments here and there. Every time it comes, you bite down on your bottom lip to try and snap out of that daze before you cough, as if that would help tone down the colors adorning your face. There’s no verbal response from you, and it seems like Yoongi doesn’t expect one either, because he just chuckles. You think he must notice the palpable nervousness that radiates off of you, but it’s not like you’re doing a very good job at hiding it.

You’re taking baby steps and he knows it. The fact that you even agreed to this at all is already major progress.

When you’re done eating, he clears the table while he asks you to open the expensive bottle of wine that he brought over. It does wonders for your nerves.

Three glasses in and you’re visibly more relaxed as you both sit on the couch in the living room, facing each other. There’s a small smile on your face that you can’t help, maybe it’s some of your inhibitions wearing off as a side effect of the alcohol. 

You glance around the room, and you take in the sight of Yoongi sitting here, this close to you. He feels bigger than your small world can handle.

“You know,” you start. If the wine didn’t make you more mellow, you probably wouldn’t be saying this. “There are thousands of people thirsting over you every day.”

Yoongi tilts his head, swirling the wine in his glass. “Really?”

“Don’t you look at the internet? I personally know two girls from college who are on the Yoongi Marry Me train,” you say matter-of-factly, like you aren’t borderline tipsy in front of him.

You aren’t an avid Twitter user, but every time you check the damn bird app, Yoongi is almost always trending. In every single one of his posts on social media, there is always an influx of comments asking him to marry them. Not only that, when word first got out about you collaborating with Agust D back then, people you knew - both old friends and acquaintances - practically bombarded your messages to see if it was true, and to ask if you could get them an autograph.

Yoongi stretches out his legs until they brush against yours. Your stomach flips even though it’s only your legs that are barely touching.

“The what train?”

“You seriously don’t know about the Yoongi Marry Me movement? Look it up. It’s a whole thing. People would do anything to, I don’t know, hold your hand or something.”

With an amused look on his face, he holds your gaze. “Would you?”

“What?”

“Would you do all of that just to hold my hand? Because you don’t have to, y’know.” He brings the wine glass to his lips, partially hiding his face from you, and you don’t know whether he’s doing it for your sake or his in preparation for the words he speaks next. “But I would do it to hold yours.”

You’re sure that your cheeks are burning bright, your stomach twisted in knots. It’s the wine, but it’s definitely the effect of his words too. You stare at Yoongi in surprise; no matter how many times he openly flirts with you, he’d still elicit the same reaction from you. It’ll be hard to get used to it. He just always seems to know what to say to make you blush like a schoolgirl, which you resent but you can’t deny the sparks of excitement that make your fingertips tingle.

Yoongi is smooth, and it’s even worse - or is it better? You haven’t decided yet - that you know he means every word he says. It makes you feel… wanted. It’s good to know that he’s being genuine, and to know that Yoongi isn’t the type of person who would ever pull the rug out from under you.

Yoongi is… stable.

You suppose, after everything you’ve been through, that stability is what you need. It’s good for you.

You try to swerve around the thoughts, to avoid them at all costs, but deep down you know now that they’re glaringly true.

That love is stored in two bags of groceries, so filled to the brim that some onions almost fall out. Love is stored in every flick of his wrist holding a knife, slicing the sharp blade across your cutboard. Clean cuts, yet he’s never this way when it comes to you.

Love is stored in a fond smile and adoring eyes when he sees how you cradle your expensive dishware like it’s a newborn baby before you set it carefully on the table.

Love is stored in a Yoongi-shaped silhouette, dancing over your countertops with practiced precision in every movement, filling in the cracks of your home. The love in him is reserved because you, like the moon when it crescents, still have a ways to go.

When he stands at your door an hour later with his coat in hand, you wait for him to speak first.

“Performance review?” he asks. “How did I do?”

“I… liked it. It was nice,” you say honestly. But you still feel the wine in your system, and it makes you bold enough to tease him for a change. “But it was my first date in a while, so it’s hard to tell if that opinion is objective.”

He rolls his eyes fondly. “Do I qualify for a second date then?”

You hum in thought, making him wait on purpose. “Yeah, I guess,” you say, feigning nonchalance, which earns you a hearty laugh.

“What are you doing tomorrow night?” he asks, hopeful.

“Don’t know yet,” you answer, though you’ll probably end up going home and catching up on a kdrama. “Are you coming in tomorrow?”

“Just in the morning. I have a shoot in the afternoon.” He shifts to lean his weight on his other leg, tipping his body closer to you. “But I can pick you up after.”

“Yeah? And where would we go?”

Yoongi shrugs in earnest. “Just drive around? Grab a bite?” he thinks out loud, tilting his head slightly to one side for emphasis. “I could take you to that popup store you mentioned.”

You quirk an eyebrow. “You would stand in line with me to buy a novelty mug?”

“Pretty sure we wouldn’t have to stand in line if I gave them a call,” he says, grinning. “One of the perks of the job, y’know.”

“Must be nice,” you laugh, then shift to lean just a tad closer to him. You look at him for a brief moment before you agree, “Yeah, okay.”

You and Yoongi stand there at the door, each of you on either side of the threshold. This would be an appropriate moment for a kiss, you think. That explosive first kiss, if this were a movie. Exhilaration courses through your veins. You feel it from your head to the tips of your fingers to your toes. The feeling is rendering you a mere teenager again. 

It’s exciting because it’s new. You have the entire book ahead of you, waiting to be written. At this point, anything could happen. You’re a blank canvas waiting to be drawn, a blank page hoping to be written. 

Wait.

Back up.

A kiss?

A kiss?!

With Yoongi?

You’re thinking about kissing Yoongi?!

Fuck.

Fuck?!

It’s the wine.

Your thoughts knock against each other like bumper cars, echoing loudly in your brain that it almost gives you a headache.

You stay still as Yoongi leans down, your heart racing while your brain just keyboard-smashes. You can’t tell if you want him to kiss you or not, but when he only presses his lips against your cheek, you feel two emotions at once.

The first is disappointment, the second is relief. They press down on you with almost equal force, and you’re not really sure which one weighs heavier.

Baby steps.

You blink when he pulls away, and he just smiles fondly at you as if he can read your mind.

“Goodnight, princess.”

You watch him until he’s in the elevator, until the doors close and the lift descends. Even when you know that he must be on his way to his car and that someone else is making their way up, you stand there, with your hand loosely wrapped around the door handle, your breathing slightly erratic as you process what just happened. 

Déjà vu? 

It’s oddly reminiscent.

You’ve been here before.

Part of you thinks he’ll burst through the elevator doors, or rush up the stairs if the lift is occupied, and come back to grab your face and kiss you senseless.

He doesn’t.

Jungkook knows you’re probably waiting for Yoongi.

He’s seen Yoongi pick you up after work almost daily over the past couple of weeks, and it’s driving him insane. Even on the days that Yoongi comes to the studio during the day, the guy is all over you, so much so that he doesn’t even bother being a nuisance to Jungkook anymore, which just makes him a thousand times more insufferable.

Something is happening.

He can’t weasel shit out of Jimin anymore because Jimin has been especially tight-lipped after accidentally spilling Yoongi’s confession to you.

Because that should be him in Yoongi’s place. Or should he say his place, and Yoongi is just a placeholder. An imposter.

Because it used to be him that you smiled shyly at.

Jimin’s words have been plaguing his every waking hour since he was forced to hear them. If she wants to choose Yoongi, let her do that too. It feels like he’s rewinding all of your memories, retracing them with cautious fingers only to find that his every footstep is being erased to make room for someone else.

An abandoned dirt road, while you walk down a flower-filled path holding someone else’s hand.

Like you’re stamping him out.

Like he was never there at all.

Not only are you denying him a chance, you’re giving it to someone else. When he tries to move at someone else’s pace, all he gets is left behind.

It’s not about Yoongi; or at least, it’s not just about him. Yoongi doesn’t even really matter to Jungkook in this equation. It’s about what Yoongi represents. An idea of a person that Jungkook can never be.

A bigger life. A stable present and an even brighter future. Yoongi is everything better than him.

And that’s his own problem to deal with, not anyone else’s. At the end of the day, no one has to live with his insecurities but himself.

But still, he can’t help it. Whenever he sees you with Yoongi, his eyes burn. Please don’t let him take my place, he wishes every time, you’re the only good thing about me.

It’s jealousy, sure, of course it’s there. 

But what if you realize what everyone else already knows? That Yoongi is better in every single way. That Yoongi is the person who really deserves you.

What if you start to see Jungkook the way he sees himself?

You hating him - despising him with every cell in your body - is a thousand times better than you deeming him unworthy.

“I talked to Jihyo,” he speaks up suddenly, when it’s only the two of you.

“Okay,” you answer, never taking your eyes off the page in front of you. You must have circled the words daisy a thousand times already, wracking your brain for anything that rhymes. “I don’t know why you’re telling me this, but good for you.”

At this point, you wonder if you should just avoid the studio for the time being. It’s empty here again. You resent Seokjin for drowning in concept photos. You resent Namjoon for leaving Jungkook here to fend for himself, but it’s only fair, because Namjoon was only supposed to give him a helping hand, not take over the whole thing. You even resent Yoongi a bit, for not being here right this second.

“I talked to her,” Jungkook says again, ignoring your sass. “She won’t give you a hard time anymore.”

This makes you look at him. You never asked him to do this. You never asked him to do anything. In fact, you have only ever implored him to sit still and leave things alone.

“She never gave me a hard time,” you say. Sure, you don’t appreciate being given the death glare first thing in the morning, but it’s not something that you can’t ignore. It doesn’t actively affect you, and the only reason Jihyo does it is because of Jungkook.

Because he broke things off with her?

Because he gives you more attention?

Ugh. Attention?

This is the stupidest and most childish thing you have had to think about in ages.

“You said she acts differently toward you.”

“And aren’t you the reason why?” you counter. “Because you two were fucking?”

Jungkook visibly winces at your words, like he did when you mentioned it the first time in the break room. You don’t mean to be snarky; you’re just stating the facts. They were hooking up. 

You don’t harbor any ill will toward any of his past lovers, and that includes Jihyo. You know she doesn’t have anything against you either, at least not on a personal level because you don’t know each other well enough to do so. She’s just someone you pass by every day on your way to the elevator.

“So why did things end?” you ask just for the sake of it, since he was the one who brought it up. But you’d be lying if you said you weren’t curious.

He hesitates for a moment. “She wanted something more and it wasn’t the same for me.”

It’s stupid that the tiny voice in the back of your head resurfaces, hoping that you were the reason why he couldn’t pursue things with another woman.

Jihyo isn’t you, that much is clear. You never asked for anything more from him, not once from start to finish. He was always the first one to pour love into you. It’s arguable which one of you loved the other more - maybe you loved each other equally, just in different ways - but it was a fact that Jungkook always took the initiative. He made the first move so you wouldn’t have to. He gave you the option to match his affection, and never have to worry about being left out to dry.

He took initiative, right until the very end.

You bite your bottom lip, then give him a curt response, “Okay.”

Your phone vibrates with a text from Yoongi but you don’t open it just yet. You look at Jungkook, who only looks back at you. His lips part slightly as he searches for the right words, or any word at all. It’s like you’re asking him to navigate a minefield when all he has to do is be honest. Even if he told you that he fell out of love with you, it wouldn’t be that bad. You would be hurt, yes, but you wouldn’t blame him. You would understand. It would be a reason.

Silence fills the room, save for the continuous tapping of your pen on paper.

He says your name, pleading. “I’m trying here.”

At Jimin’s party, Jungkook said you were someone important to him. You don’t doubt that he meant it, and that’s what infuriates you the most. You’re important, but he keeps running circles around you and making your head spin. You’re important, but everything he’s done makes you think that you’re the opposite. You’re important, just not important enough to get an explanation.

You know he’s genuine about everything he says, but that’s not enough. You can’t sustain yourself on just his words alone.

It’s another cycle of the same conversation, running over and over and over again. He’s reaching out but he’s holding back. You’re still getting nowhere. You don’t know how many times he has to make you ask this, only to not give you any clarity at all.

If there is a trait of Jungkook’s that you both love and hate at the same time, it is that he doesn’t know when to quit.

He texts you every day even when you don’t reply - one for good morning, and one for goodnight. He gets you a chai latte every day, which doesn’t do shit for your concentration because there’s not enough caffeine in it. He gets the door for you whenever you go into the same room together. He hounds your every waking moment. He makes sure that he’s the first thing you see when you wake up, and the last thought that crosses your mind before you go to sleep.

I’ll spend the rest of my life making it up to you.

You suppose this is him, showing up again. In a lot of ways, it’s selfish. But it’s an effort too. Now your phone is full of meaningless messages that remain unread.

You barely glance at him. It’s routine at this point. He tries in ways that you don’t bother acknowledging anymore, because you figured that the best course of action is to let him wear himself out.  When he has had enough of it, when he deems his efforts to be enough to absolve his guilt, he’ll stop. He has to.

But at what point does it stop?

At what point will you stop wanting to give in to him? Your mind rages wars with itself every time you feel his eyes on you, and you have to kill the urge to not turn your head and look at him too. At what point will you stop wanting to go to him and let him in again? At what point will you stop unconsciously making him a priority?

All of this, you supposed, is to say: Do you still love him?

You know that if you sit down and get to the root of it, you’ll find an answer you don’t like. Even in this moment, you want him to tell you just a fraction of the truth, because that would probably be enough to reel you back in.

Your own heart claws at your chest but this is how it has to be for a while. All you can do is take it one day at a time, gently nudge your heart in one direction like a child that needs to be goaded, until he doesn’t live on the forefront of your mind anymore.

Until someone else does.

“No, you’re not.” You stand up then, closing your notebook with more force than necessary. “If you’re really trying, then I wouldn’t still be wondering why I wasn’t enough to make you stay.”

Even then, you’re still hoping that he’d say something else. But when you’re only met with silence, the anticipated disappointment in you bubbles, boiling. His reluctance to clue you in makes it easier for you to decide.

There's someone else who's willing to give you things that you don't even need to ask for.

In your mind, it's clear who you should choose.

Jungkook clenches his teeth, holding his breath as he watches you shove your things into your bag. “Are you going home?” he asks after a minute.

You could say yes and let the conversation die a swift and simple death. But for some reason, you choose to kill it violently. You bite the inside of your cheek before you tell him, “I don’t know. Yoongi’s picking me up.”

The chagrinned look that takes over his features for a split second is one that you immediately catch. Maybe it’s because he wants to make sure you know how he feels about this, or maybe you still have a way of reading him somehow. Regardless of what his face tells you, he doesn’t prod any further.

Your phone vibrates on the table, the sound ten times more thunderous amidst the silence that’s befallen the both of you. You don’t need to check the screen to know who’s calling, and neither does he. When you leave, the sound of your fading footsteps ricochets off the walls. It shoots right through him.

He hears every word of that conversation ringing in his ears then. He recalls that afternoon’s sunset; it was the most beautiful sunset he saw that year, despite the sun overhead mocking him with every magnificent glint of light. He sees the look on your face when his words finally register in your mind, the Oh moment when you understood what he was saying, when the smile you wore sunk helplessly to the floor because even though you knew that love had an expiration date, you hoped your love would be the exception. 

That memory fades, only to be replaced by something much worse. He sits there with Jimin’s words, echoing in his mind, reverberating around the room.

Technically, you and Yoongi haven’t been on a second date. You think.

You’ve seen him almost every night since the dinner, when he picks you up at the studio. Sometimes, you two just drive around. Sometimes, you sit by the river in the cold, eating hot ramen cups and giggling over nothing. Sometimes, he just takes you straight to your home if he has a packed schedule the next day.

These days, you see Yoongi even more than you see Taehyung. Even though he hasn’t explicitly implied that any of these outings is a date, you know you aren’t hanging out as just friends anymore.

It feels good to be wanted. The feeling is reinforced tenfold because it’s been so long that it’s like you’re experiencing it for the first time in a new body, as a different person.

But even after all of that, you two can still go back to being friends like nothing ever happened. Because in a way, maybe nothing did happen. Maybe things have always been like this between you, the only difference is now you’re noticing the meaning behind his words and glances.

You two can still go back, because technically, no line has been crossed.

But tonight, something feels different. It’s colder, but Yoongi keeps you warm with all the looks he’s been giving you all night.

It feels like you’re both toeing that line right now. 

You know that once you cross it, things can’t revert back to the way they were anymore.

You know that it will happen eventually, because Yoongi isn’t doing this just to half-ass it. He won’t back out, and he has made it crystal clear from the start. 

Usually, this is the part where he tells you goodnight and you have to pretend not to freak out when he kisses you on the cheek in goodbye.

He takes a step closer, you take no step back. 

“You know what I’m about to do, right?”

You do. You could say you’re even hopeful.

“I might have an idea…”

“Okay,” he says easily. He takes your waist in his hands and brings you closer. The way the corner of his mouth tugs upward tells you that he’s pleased, that you know what’s about to come and you’re letting it happen. Still, he asks, “Can I?”

You nod. That glowing sensation washes over you in waves.

“Words, princess,” he reminds you. 

Your hands land on the lapel of his coat. “Yes, you can.”

He chuckles, and squeezes you a little tighter. 

Then it happens.

The line you clumsily drew in the sand has been erased.

Yoongi is kissing you.

You’re kissing him back. 

He’s soft and warm and he holds you like you’re delicate. His sincerity, you can feel it in his kiss, and it’s only a fraction of it. Regardless, there is still life that blooms this winter. Inside of you, small and fragile, but it’s there.

You sigh into his mouth, feeling completely limbless if not for him holding your body upright. One of his arms wounds itself tighter around your middle while his other hand tucks your hair behind your ear so he could cup your cheek more easily. Yoongi tilts his head further to one side to deepen the kiss. You feel something in his kiss that you have never heard in his words, something soft and pleading. Wanting but still contained. Out of fear that you might run away, perhaps? You can’t blame him though. You are a bit of a flight risk.

The wind dances past like a nosy bystander, pressing you further into him like it wants you to be more sure in the way you move, in how much of yourself you’re willing to give to him. Instead, the cold just makes you shiver.

When you break away, his hand on your face moves to hold the back of your head. Yoongi doesn’t look half as flushed as you think you do, though his cheeks are slightly rosy.

Through a thin veil of clouds, the moon still shines down on his profile. 

The chill in the air, the mesmerizing view of moonlight dancing across his features, and most of all, the way you’re still lost in the kiss, in the feeling of being wanted.

“C’mon, I’ll walk you up,” he says, after you stay silent for a beat too long, hooded eyes basking in the warmth of a heart chasing your own. You want to want him. You do want him, but there’s still something missing. It doesn’t feel entirely right, but for now, you try not to dwell on it too much. Just let it be. Maybe in time, that void will inevitably fill.

Yoongi holds your hand through the lobby and on the whole way up even if neither of you says anything, just shy glances in the elevator and bashful half-hidden smiles. You don’t invite him in once you get to your door - because an invite now insinuates something that you just aren’t ready for - but he does kiss you again. If the kiss you shared downstairs is a proper goodnight kiss, then this one means see you later and doesn’t last half as long, but it makes you tingle just the same.

He pulls back, only to dive in again, and again, and again, until one chaste kiss turns into five and you have to push him away with a giggle so you can breathe.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, eyes still set on your mouth. “Couldn’t help myself.”

“Yoongi,” you say, a little breathily, like oxygen hasn’t sufficiently made its way into your lungs since downstairs.

He rests his forehead against yours. “You’ve never said my name like that before,” he sighs.

“Like what?”

“Like you want me to kiss you again.”

You tug your bottom lip between your teeth and pretend to consider this even though you know you would like to be kissed again. “Maybe I do,” you say after a beat, bravely. “Just one more.”

He gives you your final kiss of the night then, one that lasts a second longer than the others, like he’s trying to memorize how you taste.

You head in once Yoongi is out of sight. You lean your body against the door the second you snap the lock shut. You touch your lips lightly, reliving those moments again even though they happened mere seconds ago. You’re buzzing with excitement like a schoolgirl, every feeling coursing through your body all at once. 

You’re familiar with this. It’s the stage right before every love song you listen to suddenly reminds you of that one person.

You go through your regular evening routine with a pep in your step, thanks to a certain person tonight. You take off your carefully applied makeup and take a nice, hot shower. You think the heat would help melt away the high that you’re riding - like you’ve had too much coffee to drink and now your senses are beyond heightened - but it doesn’t. Once you’re fresh and comfortable in your PJs, you still feel that jittery feeling seeping through your pores, keeping you awake. There’s a message from Yoongi that tells you he has made it home safely.

It’s still early, and you’re far too restless to go to bed. You decided to brew yourself a mug of chamomile tea, even though you don’t even like chamomile and you can’t remember why you even have it, but they say that apparently chamomile is good for sleep. You decide to take the mug into the living room to sort through your mini mountain of mail that should’ve been dealt with days ago.

Sitting underneath that pile of junk mail and letters addressed to the previous tenant even though you’ve lived here for nearly two years, is a cream-colored card addressed to you. The material feels smooth under your fingertips, like velvet if that’s even possible. Inside, there are two names - one you recognize and another you don’t - typed out in a fancy calligraphy font and encircled by pretty flowers, all pinks and whites and romantic.

The saccharine sensation associated with the thought of Yoongi dissipates instantly. Instead, your mind blanks, only to buzz to life again momentarily with a newfound sinking feeling dragging you down.

You suddenly realize that Jungkook hasn’t crossed your mind once tonight. Not until now. That crestfallen look in his eyes from the other night appears in your mind again, clear as day.

You are, quite literally, holding someone’s declaration of love and yet, it’s not joy that you feel, having been asked to join them on their special day. 

You never thought you would see Jungkook’s family again - even though you always adored his parents and you felt that they loved you too - let alone receive an invitation to his brother’s wedding.

remember when y'all said u wanted a wedding?? well u didn't say whose wedding 😌

— all rights reserved © jeonqkooks. reposting, translating and/or modifying is not permitted by any means. [posted march 27, 2023]

[the-letterbox-archives]

file (1)ALL-56-0190: most likely to

i've been sent this one a lot, glad i finally got around to it! this is a 'most likely to' tag game, where you answer which of your characters is most likely to do a certain thing as per the prompt. everyone's in the ring for this one!

thank you @the-golden-comet, @drchenquill, @urnumber1star, @willtheweaver, @ominous-feychild,

@paeliae-occasionally, @moltenwrites, and @gioiaalbanoart for tagging me!!

(warning: very long post)

1) most likely to faint

laszlo is pretty-fainting-victorian-woman coded, so i’d have to say him. sorry, bud.

2) most likely to enjoy art

if we mean creating art, it’s sunny (i hc she does nature/animal drawings in her spare time), if we mean appreciating art, it’s yaromyr (because he’s a softie and loves a good painting).

3) most likely to hate sports

daphne all the way. she has faked many sicknesses to get out of pe.

4) most likely to freeze if faced with something scary

either sunny or laszlo in the canon of their stories, but overall i’d go with ven.

5) most likely to eat the last bite of something

eira, he’s always got to have the last piece.

6) most likely to start an argument

so many of them. faye, sunny, sissy, sinon, danareth, eira, austine, maybe laszlo, and dulcinea, to single out some of the worst offenders.

7) most likely to own a cat

ven is a cat person for sure, theophania as well, though more in spirit, since it’d be hard for her to take care of one.

8) most likely to swim across a large river/channel without getting fatigued

possibly faye could do it with enough adrenaline, but sinon could fly over it…

9) most likely to not be a morning person and hates getting woken up too early

THIS IS LITERALLY VEN’S EVERYDAY LIFE.

10) most likely to learn a subject a day before exams (and still nailing it)

darcy does it on the regular.

11) most likely to pick up a stray animal

faye, because she’s adopted many frogs, but darcy and laszlo would if given the opportunity.

12) most likely to fall for a prank

sissy’s entire life is a prank.

13) most likely to pull an accidental all-nighter

tie between daphne and dulcinea, they are not good at self care.

14) most likely to get stranded on an island and thrive

sinon, he could use the privacy.

15) most likely to get bullied by a random child

johnnie, but she deserves it.

16) most likely to win an athletic event

hnnngh, nobody?

17) most likely to become a con artist

theophania, although she doesn’t really want to (she often is, though).

18) most likely to get lost in their own home

danareth, for the sole fact that the miyokav castle is HUGE and he never quite got his head around all of it.

19) most likely to burn something while cooking

laszlo, faye, willow, and austine can’t cook to save a life.

20) most likely to stop a robbery if they see it taking place

nobody i think, it’s entirely likely that they’d all either think it’s a) not their place, b) the robber needed the money, c) think they couldn’t do anything or d) it’d be funnier if it happened.

21) most likely to not tell people they’re sick until they really need the help

laszlo and sunny in canon, willow, alastair, and theophania by virtue of their personalities, and ven (without meaning to).

22) most likely to crush on their villain/enemy

sasha (it’s the stockholm syndrome).

23) most likely to skip breakfast

all of the teenagers.

24) most likely to have a niche obsession

danareth and yaromyr, also alastair!

25) most likely to steal what they need on moment

all the dumaresq kids.

26) most likely to start a fight

sissy and sinon whenever the other is in the same room as them.

27) most likely to do something that they’re gonna regret later

*side eyes all the protagonists*

28) most likely to arrive ridiculously early

sinon and laszlo, those meticulous mfs.

29) most likely to be in a relationship for less than a week

daphne WISHES!

30) most likely to secretly be really good at music, but just not tell anyone

lady, but mostly because she has no one to tell.

leaving this one an open tag, feel free to use the prompts i was given or make up your own!

tag list for the sillies: (avoiding double tag but i may have missed some)

@wyked-ao3, @48lexr, @melpomene-grey, @thecrazyalchemist, @thecomfywriter,

@.moltenwrites, @yourpenpaldee, @glassfrogforest, @.the-golden-comet, @.gioiaalbanoart,

@.paeliae-occasionally, @.ominous-feychild, @.drchenquill, @tc-doherty, @corinneglass

[gunslingerblues]

Yet another modern RDR2 AU, yeehaw!

Arthur was orphaned at a young age and bounced between foster parents and group homes before being fostered and subsequently adopted by Hosea and Bessie at ~13 years old

He had just been doing art to cope with the [gestures at everything in Arthur's life], but with Hosea and Bessie's encouragement, Arthur decided to pursue art and get a degree in art and art history

When Arthur was ~20 years old, Hosea and Bessie adopted another 13-year-old, John Martson. Despite the gap in ages, Arthur was quick to become fond of John and help him let go of the "I'm on my own and no one cares" mentality

Arthur, now 27, has a relatively popular art account on Instagram. His username is something generic like 'morgan.makes' or something. There are no pictures of his face or mentions of his gender/pronouns, so his followers have assumed Arthur is a woman named Morgan. He's aware of this and doesn't really care lol

He also works as a cashier at Dutch's pawn shop and sometimes evaluates things people bring in to sell. Dutch does run a shady side business out of the pawn shop (drugs or gambling, idk lmao), but Arthur isn't involved. Partly because he doesn't want to be, and partly because Dutch knows that Hosea and Bessie would not hesitate to kick his ass if Arthur got tangled up in illegal shit because of Dutch

Hosea and Bessie’s property used to be a bustling farm, but is now home to a handful of hens, a few cows, and horses. One is Hosea’s, a grey-coated Turkoman stallion named Silver Dollar, and the other is Arthur’s, a chestnut Arabian mare named Sweet Pea

Arthur also owns an old truck he calls Horse

More often than not, Arthur is the one who picks John up from high school, and he never tells John if it’ll be with Sweet Pea or Horse. John complains whenever Arthur rides up on Sweet Pea, but all of John’s friends think it’s so cool (John also thinks it’s cool but like hell he’s going to admit it)

John's friends are Javier, Lenny, and Sean. He has a huge crush on Abigail, a girl in his English class. Hosea and Bessie think it's very sweet and Arthur (lovingly) teases the shit out of John about it

I have lots of other thoughts about this AU, so if anyone has questions 👁️👁️ feel free to ask!

[helphelph]

Rating tmf ships but I come up with the wackiest rating systems because im insane

jailey - one if you cant look at the crowd look at me okay out of two princess stickers

Classic. It's not one of my favorites but defienetly in the A category. They have a good buildup and great chemistry. I think nobody would argue against that they're probably going to be endgame and I'm fine with that.

jaisy - twelve pink hearts out of two childhood friends

They're one of my favorites. Daisy's always there for Jake and Jake is always so kind to her. I wish we could have seen Jake being there for Daisy with her problems as well but Sean slid in there(not really complaining but alas). I really hope we see more progress in their relationship in season 2 although I think season 2 will be focusing more on jailey.

jean - one idk out of where did this come from

I dont find them as appealing as other ships but defienetly not my least favorite either. They're cute. I guess. Not much to say tbh I havent really thought about how a romantic dynamic would be between them.

jander - one hear me out out of hate isn't strong enough of a word

I havent really interacted with the tmf fandom much so idk how ya'll treat non canon ships that arent drake but I'm gonna go out on a limb here and say I like this ship. I also love lander ofc and thats the beauty of multishipping. But yeah I think jander is nice. B tier imo.

jia - 8.5/13

Ahhhhhhhhhhh. The sweet scent of unrequited love. I'm not that much of a big fan of them but I like the angst. Also they look good together lol.

jilly(?) - one slap to the face out of however many jake ships there are

Sorry Jake x Millyshippers, not my cup of tea. I just dont see much appeal to it really. But you do you gang. (No but seriously hwo many Jake ships are there?)

juke - why so serious out of jake's favorite jacket that he got from a thrift store down in blah blah blah...

Nottt for me. Don't have much to say about them. D tier.

drake - endless thoughts of what could have been out of its as if we never were

I'm afraid it was never casual guys. But jokes aside, Drew paralelling the people that canonically have a crush on Jake(or do in subtext) is just so dear to me. Like yesss feedmy delusions. I love the concept of unrequited love on Drew's end and Jake having no idea until it's too late. ("I'm not in love with you anymore." "I didnt know you ever were") They have so much capacity for angst and I love that.

drakailey - boaf? Boaf out of HEAR ME OUTT

Guys hear me out. Can't decide between Drake and Jailey? Have them both. But honestly I really like this ship. It's a fun dynamic to think about what can I say. Also they need more content tmf fandom I am begging you.

Lander - 10/10

I saw an edit of them that was Zander saying how he's "not like Stacy yknow" and Luke was like "Yes, and?" and I think that's beautiful. Their relationship is nicely balanced and healthy. I just wish the fandom would stop making Luke Zander's parent, always telling him to "calm down". They're widely mischaracterised in the fandom which Zander really isn't that hard to mischaracterise so idek how yall do that...

Milliot - how does this work out of one cactus with flowers

Don't get me wrong, I like them. I really liked them when they were first introduced and I am really glad they got a bit more fleshed out in the spin off. I really liked Elliot's character. What confuses me is that I'm usually not a huge fan of the nerd x troublemaker trope. But they work because Milly's not an asshole to other people (Except zoey but she highkey deserves it sooo)

Droey - three sappy nicknames out of fifteen "busy weekends"

I don't. Like this ship. No matter how much I dislike(half true) Drew nobody deserves to get cheated on. Zoey's an immature girl and she really needs to grow up (side eyes the jomies cameo in the spinoff). I know a particular of the fandom likes to make them be in sort of a "lavender relationship" and I'm not really against that I'm just talking about their canon selves.

Dria - we got rejected by jake out of pretty girls walk like this (if somebody understands the references I'm making I'm kissing you)

I meaannnnn... I just don't think Drew would go after his cheating ex's ex best friend. Now that I put it like that it doesn't sound too bad... I'm not opposed to it but I wouldn't really go out of my way to look up content for them.

Zia - 4.7/10

I'm really not sure about this yall. Not a big fan of it though. I guess I could say I'm neutral.

Saisy - three misunderstandings out of one red rose

They're cute, they have chemistry, what can I say? I'm not really a huge fan but im not against it either. I like it. B tier.

henriam - two best friends out of one room

(see what I did there? haha) They're just such a fun ship I dont really have that much to say honestly. They will kiss.

Driam - 8/10

I don't LOVE it but you know what I do love? Ya guessed it! It's the angst potential. Ooh one sided driam... with one sided henriam as well... wowww... yummy

Jenry- two dorks out of one hero academia

Pretty cute. Not my favorite but I do like it. :3 They're just so sillyy.

There are soooo many ships!!! I think I'l make a part 2 for this. This post is getting a bit too long.

[crash-bump-bring-the-whump]

Day 11 - Fainting

I was waffling on what to do for this day until I took not quite enough Nyquil and just let my mind wander for a bit lmao so have something cute

Ping list: @ailesswhumptober, @whumperofworlds, @whump-captain

TWs: another thing where kissing happens and a guy's tits are out but nothing happens, sex gets referenced with a flirty suggestion but its pretty pg-13 still, blood, vampire feeding, alcohol mention, needle mention, fainting

Mariano had decided to go out that Friday. He didn't have work in the morning for once, and Bastian had been getting onto him about being a seventy-year-old in a thirty-three-year-old's body. He'd gone to a place he'd heard good things about--it was loud, and the lights were too much.

The drinks were nice though, and the huge, ruby-horned, golden-eyed bartender was handsome and charming. Maybe he would make this a regular thing. He'd even met a sweet vampire. The blond twink had body glitter on, likely from head to toe, and her green eyes lit up when he'd responded to her flirting.

Brian, her name was. She'd let him text a selfie with her to Bastian, and he'd let her send one of them to her boyfriends. She'd also let him pay for the taxi back to her place.

It was so cozy. He took in the restored, renewed antique cellos and violins hung up on the walls, with flowers and animals carved delicately into the outer layers of the wood and varnished over with love. He saw the worn leather jacket that hung near the doorway, underneath a motorcycle helmet. He saw crutches, and what had to be a backup wheelchair, kept near the couch in a corner.

She'd led him to a bedroom, furnished with string lights and tapestries over the walls and a fluffy bedspread on the queen-sized bed. A teal television sat on a dresser, the perfect height for movie nights. And now her hands cupped Mariano's face as he knelt above her, propped up on his elbows and knees.

Their lips pressed together, hers chilled but tasting like strawberries. It lingered on his own lips when they pulled apart. He'd have to ask her what brand the lip gloss was. Cute, freckled cheeks were flushed. Her sharp indicator teeth were bright in the dim, warm light when she beamed up at him.

"God--don't take this the wrong way, you smell so good right now." Brian said, pulling Mariano down for another kiss. "Like it's not a cologne, and you don't smell afraid. Do you have magic or something?"

"I do." Mariano said, one hand slipping up under Brian's head, his fingers threading into her hair. "It's pretty strong though, it might be off-putting."

"Can I taste?" One of Brian's hands dropped to his neck, and Mariano felt his pulse more strongly. "If it's not my cup of tea, I can always get a different taste of you." Her smile shifted into something more flirtatious. "I'm really good with my mouth."

Mariano laughed, kissing her again, soft and sweet. "That sounds good to me."

Brian brightened up, wiggling to sit up more against the head of the bed. "Okay! Turn around, shirt off if you want. Just lean against me." She tapped his shoulders, looking him over appreciatively. "You don't gotta worry about crushing me either."

"Alright, alright." Mariano said, raising up onto his knees to tug his shirt and binder off over his head. Brian's eyes lit up when she saw him, hands reaching to feel up his sides. He lowered himself down, shifting so that his shoulders met Brian's chest. Cool fingers drifted over his temples and neck, brushing his hair aside. "You don't have to be gentle."

"I think I'll be gentle anyway." Brian whispered, cold lips ghosting over his skin again. Mariano couldn't help the shudder that raced through him. He let out a sigh when Brian opened her mouth and then opened it wider.

He felt the brush of two thin teeth as they were brought forward. One of Brian's arms looped around his front, hand coming to rest affectionately on his cheek. Not a moment later, two sparks of pain erupted from his neck.

Mariano hummed, eyes fluttering closed as Brian's fangs sunk deeper, slow and steady. She'd obviously been doing this for a while. The moment her teeth had pierced the artery, she withdrew and locked her mouth around the wound.

His head started to spin as Brian's thumb began to trace along his cheekbone. She hummed against him, slender hand starting to support his head more and more. Static began to fill Mariano's ears. The soft noises that Brian made started to fade. The warm lighting started to dim. The room began to spin.

The world dropped away and Mariano fell.

"Hey. Open your eyes for me." Brian's voice cut through everything. It was low and steady, and Mariano realized that he wasn't leaning against the sweet vampire anymore. He was lying down and his feet were propped up on some pillows. "Mariano?"

He groaned, managing to open his eyes as Brian's fingers slid through his hair. "I'm...I'm awake." He mumbled, meeting Brian's eyes. She was sitting on the edge of the bed, her hip pressed against his side.

"Good! You had me worried. You fainted, but I didnt take much--do shots give you trouble or something?"

Mariano laughed, quiet and warm. "No, no, needles are fine. I don't mind them." He reached to take her hand, squeezing it when she threaded their fingers together. "Heard it can just happen sometimes, though."

Brian laughed in return, nodding. "Guess it was just a random spell then, huh?" She reached to slide her fingers through his hair, pulling a quiet, relieved sound from him. "Well, you're not in a state to make out or anything now, so how's a movie sound? I can make popcorn, get you a soda. You can stay the night too, if you want."

Mariano brought her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles. "That...that all sounds very nice, yes."

Brian stood, kissing his temple before fluttering out of the room. "I'll be right back then, 'kay? Text your boyfriend, and I'll let Elliot know he's evicted for the night." A quick text to Bastian updating him on the plan was all he had to do, and then he relaxed as the sounds of playful arguing in the kitchen drifted in.

[msfbgraves]

Oh my gosh, I love the idea of a Silverrusso Hunger Games/Ballad AU! Of course Terry would be Capitol, and of course he’d be Daniel’s mentor and fall for him big time. 

Daniel would be District (12, not Covey), and while he’s small, and tiny, and adorable—he’s also cunning, and brave, and can be a murder-kitten if pushed far enough. Terry probably exploits all these traits of Danny boy’s for views and sponsorship before and in the Arena because he knows a showman when he sees one, being one himself. Terry would be excellent at strategy and playing 4D chess, and Daniel would, as you said, be a good boy and listen to whatever he instructs him on. Daniel’s own natural charisma, charm, cunning, and Daniel LaRusso Derangement Syndrome help him win against the odds of course. 

I agree with you that Terry would only return to the Capitol if he got to keep the pretty little thing. Which would be a very interesting setting, because Terry would of course become President, with Daniel by his side as his Capitol Consort. Make it Omegaverse and that’s even more set in stone. Daniel never loses that natural goodness and kindness despite it all, so who can say what happens in their marriage, and Terry’s tendency towards mass genocidal pastimes? Hmm. 

Or maybe Terry runs away with Daniel. They make do for a while on their own, as they’re both very charming. I do agree that Terry would find District 13, and make himself the leader. Probably take over Panem eventually too, for better or worse. All with his doe-eyed boy by his side as his own personal cheerleader.

The stuff of legends. 

Yes, I've seen Terry as Capitol mentor floating around since the first trailer, and with Daniel "Why didn't you kill him?" LaRusso as tribute - why shouldn't those odds be in his favour? I have to say that, though, with those very cringey commercials - Daniel isn't great with cameras, but like with the tournaments he's fought, he takes to the arena like a duck to water. (One of the few very clear differences between Ralph and Daniel, in my view!) But Daniel is just so adorable and we all know he looks even prettier roughed up, so especially with all the extra whump the book puts the tributes through he'd be so strangely alluring - and when the first thing he does is save the smallest tribute "because it isn't fair", and definitely would mercy kill another, he will win swarms of fans and donations. Terry's first thought at those antics, as that is not what they'd discussed, is: "The second that brat gets out of the arena, I am putting him straight over my knee!" (Which he does, the first time they meet again!)

Now I have a huge villain crush on Terry, he is my poor little meow meow through and through, so I believe that he wouldn't be as desperate as Coryo for acceptance. And I really think that's canon. Terry knows how to blend but he doesn't like it, he likes to push the envelope of respectability. So of course he makes former District boy John Kreese his absolute bestie, openly. So I think if the Dean would be "ugh, I hate your father", he'd be like "I hate my father, sir, you're not special", and with Gaul's "What are the Hunger Games for", he'd be like: "An outlet for sadism." And she'd be like "Oooh, you're very good at it, Mr. Silver." He'd be like: "Yeah, I like to watch, what of it? Not like I made it up." And so he'd only return to the Capitol (because yes he'd totally cheat, of course) with Daniel, but I don't actually see him becoming President? With his penchant for nuclear, I think he's always been obsessed with 13. Terry is not very obsessed with ruling people, I don't think. He's obsessed with very close relationships and personal survival, which is actually something he and Daniel have in common! I see Daniel getting Terry to become more of a rebel when in the Capitol, but if they're not allowed back, and Terry is absolutely fine slumming it in 12 and having all the sex with Daniel (the man loves playing at poverty) he'd take off when they don't let him take his Danny boy to officer training in 2 because: "I am not letting them send you down a mine, sweetheart." (Plus they've totally tried to recruit Daniel for rebel missions.) The reason he's taking over 13 is that none of these people know to have any fun and that's no way to live and he ends up ruling the whole of Panem kinda sorta by accident, with Daniel acting as his conscience. Also to let Daniel reunite with his Ma and brood of other half starved LaRussos because he won't ever shut up about it otherwise.

[soccerwag]

Hey! Im real soory to bother but can you write something fluff for vinicius jr like your first date or something anything will be fine really if you cant or dont feel like it please feel free to ignore this <33

Yes I will 🤭🫶🏼 I hope you like the way I interpreted it. I also know it’s kinda short this is my first time but I’m sure they’ll get longer the more I practice!

Summary: You and Vini have been friends for a while. You’ve had a crush on him for a while now but never mentioned it out of fear of ruining your friendship. Just recently he had opened up to you about his feelings for you and now today was the day you and him were going on your first date.

Warnings: None

_._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._._

I’m so stressed right now! I have no clue what to wear, how to do my hair or makeup or what shoes to wear! If I’m being honest I’m so nervous that I don’t even remember what time he said he was going to be here.

I’ve liked Vini since we were 13. At first I tried pushing the feelings away, pretend that they weren’t even there but eventually that was just not something I could do. Although I never put right told him I liked him I’m sure it was obvious to our other mutual friends that I did. It honestly kind of shocked me when he told me he’s liked me for a while now too. All this time I’ve been thinking it was one sided and when really it never was.

I was so engrossed in my panic and anxiety that I didn’t even hear the front door open. I was still in my pajamas. My hair was still a freak show and I haven’t gotten the chance to freshen up.

“Well don’t you look gorgeous straight out of bed.” I heard a familiar voice say behind me.

I nearly jumped out of my skin.

“Shit Vini, I didn’t expect you to be here so soon.” I covered my face from embarrassment.

“I couldn’t figure out what to wear because I wanted to look my best for you but everything I tried on I hated.” I rambled on, starting to work myself up again.

“Hey, hey, hey, you look gorgeous all the time, you could be wearing a huge T-shirt covered in food and a pair of sweatpants and I’d still think you looked absolutely stunning.

I didn’t know how to react, I was calmed immediately, my anxiety washed away and my tension soon let up.

“Vini…you know just how to make me feel better.” I smiled and gave him a hug.

“Why don’t we just have a cute little movie date here.” Vini suggested.

“Honestly that would be great.” I said with another smile tugging on my face again.

He picked me up bridal style and carried me to the living room.

“What movie do you want to watch princesa.”

“Princess and the frog.”

I laid my body on top of his and just engulfed myself in my body warmth.

We ate so much popcorn and candy I thought I personally was going to explode. I was starting to doze off to sleep but the last thing I heard before I hit slumber was,

“Thank you mi vida, for being you, one day soon I’ll tell you I love you while you’re awake but for now to not scare you I’ll say it while you sleep.” Vini said while stroking my hair and I fell asleep with a smile on my face.

————————————————————————

Vini after bagging you

[popcornforone]

The Cliffs

Chapter 1 of Is that all Mr Gutierrez? Serise

Master list

Well well here we go. Time for some Javi G.

Thank you all for voting in my Poll. I’m very happy but also a little shocked the Javi Gutierrez actually won, but I’m not complaining. Ooooh no. Because I have a huge master plan for Javi G. This is going to be very very fun, to write & properly character develop the people involved.

Chapter 1 synopsis: your diary hold all your secrets, including who you are crushing on. & yet you want your teenage dream with J to come true, maybe it did tonight at the cliffs?

This chapter is in a diary format for a young reader who will age & be the lead. I think there might be one more of these in the series, but this will not be regular. It will revert to you & Javi.

Word count: 800

Warning: underaged drinking, kissing, flirting, pining, mention of things to come & dreams & wants, slight anger, secrets. The reader is under age for drinking & sex & Javi G is for drinking. Probably best not to read if your under 18 as I know where I’m going to go with this series.

Thanks as always for the read peoples, all feed back is welcome.

See you soon for chapter 2

Dear diary

I kissed him today

Yes I did

It finally happened

For the last 2 years I’ve wanted to kiss him & today in a game of truth or dare, I did just that, my dream came true

I’m pretty sure J was expecting me to do something else but I didn’t

I can’t believe I actually just had my first kiss…

We were sitting on the side of the cliffs watching the sun set eating burgers like we do every Friday evening while my parents & his have dinner & do business at our hotel

We met over 2 years ago on these exact cliffs when he was running away from his bullying older cousin & I was here with my dad fishing

He looked scared but we helped him get home

He’s 2 years older than me

But he’s still really sweet

He’s not like any of the other boys in my class at school

We just get on

& now our parents work together we just get to hang out a lot more

I’ve only told you diary & my own pen friend back home in England that I have a crush on him

I like it when he holds my hand

I want to know if he fancies me too

So we went to the cliffs

& ate our burgers & watched the sun set & talked about school

I’ve got my exams in the summer he’s got his last few to before he goes to university on the main land, his dads orders, he needs to know business to be able to take over the family business one day, im surprised he doesn’t need farming, with the number of olive trees & other crops they grow.

But we were talking about that & then he asked if I wanted to play truth or dare

Usually the final dare is us both chickening out of leaping over the cliffs, it’s such a long way down

But there we sat drinking the carton of sangria we sneaked out of my parents kitchen getting giggly & stupid & tipsy

My parents don’t mind me drinking they know I can cope

J then after few rounds dared me to do the thing I was most scared of

I’m sure he thought I would try & jump off the cliffs finally

But I didn’t

Maybe it was the sangria

But I kissed him quick

Our lips probably only touched for 5 seconds but it was what I wanted to do

It’s all I’ve wanted to do from the age of 13

Kiss Javi Gutierrez

He laughed when we finished & said I needed practice

I did say we could try again & he laughed

He told me I was sweet & pretty

But should think about if this is what I want

He then did kiss my cheek back

It was so soft

He held my hand & we talked

& then we did both just run & jump off the cliffs

Such a drop

So huge

But it was fun

I felt like I was being reborn swimming in the water

Splashing J

Laughing

Watching the sun disappear

We got in trouble though

We got back to my parents hotel

After my curfew

Both soaked

Both a little drunk

Javis dad was not happy

My parents weren’t either to start with but they laughed later when I told them what happened, they have always been very understanding

My mum thought it was cute but both mum & dad told me to be careful around boys now I’m getting older

I’m now sitting in my bed writing to you diary

No one else needs to know about how special tonight truly was

When Javi returns from university in 3 years I will probably be at my own university

But I hope he still looks as sweet as he did today

I want to ask him for a proper kiss

Like they do in the movies

Like married people do

I want to have a conversation which will lead to us talking all night & maybe just maybe more…

Ooh diary do all 15 year olds feel like this after their first kiss?

Will all my kisses be that short & quick?

I hope not

I hope to have so so many more

& I hope most of them are with J

He puts on this brave face for the rest of the world knowing one day he will take over the family business

But to me he will always be just 14 year old J who I met 2 & a bit years ago

With those big brown eyes & hair he can’t control & the sweetest smile

Diary can you fall in love with someone after a first kiss? Because I think I have!!!

Chapter 2

[rainydaydally]

Inside this place is warm outside it starts to pour (Chapter 3)

Now, Dallas wasn’t as afraid to take his shirt off around the greasers anymore. When he first took it off, everyone kind of looked at him weird (but not really judgmental, just confused) except Johnny and Soda, since they already knew. Soda made sure that Dally wasn’t binding too tight for too long, and Dally always told him to lay off, but appreciated it nonetheless.

Heres something Dallas would never admit. He liked Soda. He had a huge crush on Soda. Soda is oblivious, so he didnt notice, which was good on Dally’s side. Plus, Soda definitely couldn’t like HIM, right? He couldn’t like Dallas, Soda’s never shown any signs of liking Dally. 

But the truth was, Soda really likes Dally. Like, really really likes him. He wants Dallas to know, he wants Dallas to kiss him and love him back. Soda thinks Dally should have atleast a little suspicion he likes him, (and maybe he does, who knows) because a couple years ago, when they were both around 13-14, Sodapop had told Dallas he likes boys and girls. 

13/14 

Soda and Dally were on their way to the movies and they were having some small talk about nothing in particular, but then Soda asked, “Hey, Dally?” “Yeah, man? What’s up?” Dallas asks. Soda looks down while walking. “I think I like someone from one of our classes.” Soda blushes. Dally gets a sting in his throat. “Is… is she that blonde chick you’re always staring at?” He asked. “No! No. Ew, gross. She’s just a friend. Plus she’s a lesbian so I wouldn’t get anywhere even if I DID like her. And also... uhm. He’s a boy.” Dal perks up a bit. “Oh!” He says, trying not to act too excited. “Well, thanks for telling me, man. Not everyone is into girls-” “Well I didnt say that. I just- I like boys AND girls.” Dally nods, understanding the other boy. “Can’t relate. I only like boys.” Dally slightly half-smiles and looks at Soda, and they meet eyes. Soda smiles back.

16/17 (Now)

They are having a sleepover and they are laying in the dark silently when Soda taps Dally. “Dal?” He whispers. “Mhm?” Dally says, turning to face Soda. “Remember when I came out to you and said I like a boy from one of our classes?” “Yeah, like a million years ago. Why?” Dally replies. “Well,” Soda’s hands starts shaking, and he has a sick feeling in his stomach. “I want to tell you who it was-  uh, is. Yeah, I still like him after all these years.” Soda says. “Well? Cmon tell me already I dont have all damn day.” Dally groans, getting sleepy. “Okay. Uh. It’s… you.” Soda mumbles. Dally shoots up and looks at Soda. “Who?” He asks. “You...” Soda gives a soft smile to Dally.  Dally leans to Soda and crashes his lips against Soda’s. They let go of the kiss and Soda hugs Dally tightly. “I love you.” Dally says, not above a whisper, because Dallas Winston wanted people to think he didn’t need anyone or anything. “I love you more.” Soda says.

Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Fanfic on Ao3

[m1ckeyb3rry]

LMAOOO “let’s not be hateful” I could never because I’m sorry to say but some people deserve the hate..!!! Let’s just say I’ll never gossip or shit talk without good reason….

And FR its not like you can’t enjoy a villain without acknowledging the actual. Yk. Villain parts…like let’s not ignore the pile of corpses Sukuna left behind (as an example)!!! And bro those yuki haters<<<<<< like if you’re thinking that then literally any convo could’ve swayed geto..? I mean those types of topics are bound to pop up someway or another in jujutsu society like it could’ve been anyone….if anything I’d also say that Gojo had more influence on him than yuki like?? But you don’t see people blaming gojo??? Getos character has a lot of potential fs but yeah ugh some parts of the fandom…..

LMFOAOAOA WAIT I WOULD DIE FOR A POV SWITCH MOMENT THATD BE SO FUNNY HAHAHAHA im actually crying the “hot but scary neighbor” is too funny

All the other bllkers being like haha wtf and y/n just face palming….imagine he also comes up with more ridiculous excuses like the high quality honey excuse…”oh sorry my cockatiel needs a root canal” “sorry I need to go drive my sister to an appointment halfway across the country” etc OR he keeps using the same lame excuse like “oh sorry gotta take a shit” and at some point the bllkers convene like damn that man really is full of shit…LMAO I guess he’d only be able to pull that off on the more oblivious members/people who don’t care like Nagi Bachira and Isagi though HAHA I can imagine the moment yuki losing it would make me laugh so hard like calm mature soft spoken yuki finally being like “NO!!! SHE LIKES YOU DUMBASS!!! IS YOUR BRAIN FILLED WITH HAIRWAX???? ITS YOU MF!!!”

Omg wait that’s so annoying…I hope your symptoms get better!!!! Actually I mean you probably don’t have any on you but I’ve found that ginger based candy is really helpful for nauseousness!! I’m not a huge fan of ginger myself but I can usually live with ginger candy!! And it helps with any queasy feelings so if you ever wanna give that a shot…but YAY SWITZERLAND!!! Have fun and enjoy the flight!!! See you on the flip side LMAO

-Karasu anon

i fear i AM a shit talker at heart like i’m super nice 99% of the time but the second someone crosses me or my friends i let loose (although not in public and only w people i trust because i’m not trying to start drama!!) 🤫 it truly is part of the human condition but it has to be done properly…some people go crazy with it and just are plain mean

LITERALLY WHAT I’M SAYING like anything could’ve made him snap at that point ☝🏻 it just so happened to be yuki because she was there but it’s not her fault as such because he was already way too far gone atp…people are always like “she shouldn’t have talked abt something so sensitive when he was obviously spiraling 🥺” HOW TF WOULD SHE KNOW?? maybe he just looks like that all of the time she literally has never met this kid plus i’m sure he’s not the first sorcerer to be depressed 😭 just the first to go crazy

no because IMAGINEEE like reader is all blushy because barou keeps visiting to yell at her and she’s like “oh my god he definitely has a crush on me oh my god he’s so fine he lowkey looks kinda murderous but it’s really attractive actually 😳🤤” meanwhile barou is like “you have 13 minutes to clear that snow off of my driveway before i kill you myself”

PLEASEEE KARASU IS NOTTT ESCAPING THE IBS ALLEGATIONS 😭😭😭 i think the first would def be otoya because karasu wouldn’t even need to make anything up to get that date to happen LMAO and as it goes on the excuses get progressively weirder…like with reo he just says smth like “oh sorry i’m feeling a bit under the weather i can’t make it” but by the time we get to nagi he straight up is just like “bro i’ve been kidnapped let’s do smth another time” and nagi is like “okay 👍” HFKSJSJ yuki is a patient guy but he has his limits 😔 one can only take so much two way pining and ridiculous mishaps before they snap 😰

THANK YOUU 🥹 i have been dealing w reproductive system issues for like foreverrrr my periods are so bad 😩💔 apparently it takes abt three months for your body to adjust to birth control and i’m on like month 3.25 so hoping to see some improvements soon 🫦 the flight wasn’t horrible!! def could’ve been worse…excited to be here finally though!! even if i’m super nauseous still 😓

[nemainofthewater]

Halfway through, and in the last 24 hours, Wang Pangxi has had a huge increase in votes, leaving him currently in joint first place with Meng Zhi with 31.2%, and with Tang Lian in third with 13%.

Due to a large amount of propaganda, there will be two posts, with the next one in the reblog. First set of tag propaganda under the cut:

Meng Zhi

by @readsintraffic

#there is a correct answer here and it is meng dage#it's literally his name. who is meng zhi? i don't know him I only know meng dage by @autistic-lanzhan

#I would hug meng dage so hard by @zhoudadudugongjin

#meng zhi SWEEP#nirvana in fire by @yuhengwanye

#the entire fandom calls him meng dage#to the point that due to autocorrect has birthed the#meng dave#meme#ming lou comes close but nah#Meng Zhi it is#usual disclaimer: has not seen some of these#also op lets pray none of a certain part(s?) of cql fandom find this#eta: ah too late by @xiaojingyan-jingwang

#of my favourite 3#Tang Lian is absolutely the brother to go to for advice#but I don't know if he'd be all that comfortable with the hugging#Ming Lou is the brother who would fix whatever mess you got into#but also not a big hugger#unless headlocks count#so Meng Zhi absolutely gets the vote#he's on your side even if he doesn't understand your drama#he's always happy to see you#and would give the most bone crushing hugs by @lasenbyphoenix

#correct answers only: it's meng zhi#he shows up on screen and the entire group chat starts chanting 'dage! dage!'#as the group chat buddy before me so tagged:#it's literally his name. who is meng zhi? i don't know him i only know meng dage by @thereismusicinmysoul

#i adore pangzi but most of the time he's got little brother with firecrackers energy#anyway meng dage please#polls by @listening-to-thunder

#nirvana in fire#meng zhi#he is literally Meng Da-Ge!!!!#the Da-Ge of all time! by @acesgroupchat

#god meng-dage#yeah#please#I bet he gives incredible hugs by @mikathemad

#ok im reblogging the dmbj edition bc its beautiful#but imo pangzi isn't brother he is husband#so i voted nif by @onmyo-jin

Xiao Pingzhang

#ohhh tricky#was going to go with pangzi because i bet he gives *great* hugs#but also. hard to catch him at a moment when he's not covered in Horrible Tomb Goop#I've seen what being Ming Lou's little brother gets you and No Thank You#so i think it has to be pingzhang#i think he's had time to get really embedded in his big brother lifestyle and knows what he's doing by @sinni-ok-sessi

Tang Lian

#ok obviously I voted for Tang Lian#but this poll is SO CRUEL#mostly because I have a favourite character type and it’s ‘older brother shaped tired babysitter’#literally just listing my favourite characters in every show here#SO CRUEL#so many of these characters deserve the win by @jianghushenanigans

#i voted tang lian but i was sooo tempted to go for nie Mingjue#dage is dage by @fire-burning-brighter

#tang lian#forever da shixiong#me want hug too#feels like jade deity's more of a mother hen vibe#a very fierce mother hen by @dramatictrajectory

#sorry pangzi#ilu but tang lian is probably in my top 5 of all time favourite characters ever of all times#gotta go with tang lian on this one#that man deserves a good hug#tang lian#polls by @elletromil

If there was ever a character who you'd want to give you a hug, these ones are it.

You know the saying: some are born a big brother, some become a big brother, and some have big brother status thrust upon them.

Write-ins, propaganda, and images are welcome!

[darkenforcer]

11, 13, 14, 19

Munday Meme || no longer accepting !

11. Would you write with duplicate characters? How do you think your muse would react?

there are spin-offs that would count as having duplicates, so i'd write with them, sure!! maybe not in the group, but definitely on the indie side of things. yuri would likely take it in stride, probably even getting a huge kick out of it once the initial confusion is all cleared up. peak content would be all the yuris banding together and becoming an unstoppable unit of pure chaos.

13. What’s one random headcanon about your muse that people mightn’t know?

vespy only ever canonically mentions him "falling in love" with one person when he was a little kid, the only information given being that they were 14 years older than him (no specific gender is referred to, either). THE REAL KICKER is that the only person in the cast who's exactly that much older than him is raven (who yuri would've known as a different person at the time). idk if it's pure coincidence or not, but i definitely hc that he had one of those 'wow!!! he's sooo cool!!!' role model type crushes on him when he was, like, 10. since then, he just wants to forget it ever happened, especially now that he actually knows the guy (and found out he's a giant loser (affectionate)). it's also extra funny when another skit has yuri explicitly saying his type is anyone who isn't like raven.

14. Who is an author that inspires you?

i think the only author i've ever really vibed with that i can recall atm is rick riordan! his style of writing always clicked for me. it's easy to read, but also personal in a way that lets you fall into the main character's headspace -- you identify with them and they seem like an old close friend by the end of it all. you almost feel like a part of the story itself, at times, like they're explicitly letting the reader in on all the action. conversational narration has always been a fave for me, what can i say...

19. Do you listen to music whilst writing? If so, what kind of music?

YES AND NO... i like to, but what usually happens is that i get so absorbed i end up forgetting to put something on in the background until i'm almost done anyway gnjdjg when i do listen to music when writing, though, it's almost always stuff without lyrics (i get distracted easily lol); i.e., video game OSTs, piano arrangements, chiptune, and lofi are my go-to.

[bump1nthen1ght]

Sex on the Rocks (Merman x Reader)

Pairing: Male!Reader/Merman

Genre: Urban Fantasy, Established Relationship

Warnings: 18+ content under the cut!, Size Kink, Breeding Kink

Word Count: 2578 words

Summary: You and your boyfriend discover some new things about yourselves.

Request: May I request a Merman x Male Reader? With a size kink, and breeding kink if you're open to that. Thank you! ❤️

“Can you see it?”

“Nope! This rock’s a bit too slippery-” An unflattering yelp leaves you as your hand loses its grip on the stone, your wet feet lacking any grip as you slide off the boulder and back into the cold ocean water. Your head goes under for only a second before Juno grabs you by the armpits, yanking you back up.

You sputter and cough, collapsing back onto Juno’s chest as you shake water out of your hair. Juno cranes his neck forward, barely hiding a laugh.

“You good?”

“Y-yeah, just...lost my grip for a second.” You shrug off Juno’s hands. He quirks an eyebrow up, like he doesn’t believe you, and you roll your eyes. “The water’s like, five feet deep, I’ll survive.”

“I don’t know.” Juno teases, playing with your messy hair, “I know you humans aren’t the best at swimming. But don’t worry,” Juno throws his large arm around your shoulder, “I can be your Orca in shining armor.” Juno winks, a strand of his long, black hair falling over his shoulder. He looks like he belongs on a romance novel cover.

You push yourself off of  Juno’s chest, giving him a playful slap.“Okay, Romeo, whatever you say. But we should find a place to chill out if we want to catch the sunset.”

Juno laughs, pushing his hair out of his face before he nods.

The two of you usually come to this cove on your date nights, finding a nice spot on the beach to laze around and talk before watching the sun descend together. But some teenagers had decided to throw a huge bonfire this very night and the beach was way too crowded for any alone time. Juno’s idea had been to swim farther out into the sea and chill on some rocks, but so far none had been both comfortable and able to view the horizon.

The two of you look around, trying to find a rock safe enough for you to climb, before Juno hums.

“I got an idea.”

You barely have time to get out a ‘What” before Juno’s arms are wrapping around your knees and hoisting you up into the air, your hands scrambling to find purchase in his hair  as your legs wrap around his chest. Juno shows no sign of exertion as he presses up even higher, shifting his forearm to support your thighs and pointing you towards the sea. “How about that? Can you see it now?”

The wheeze that leaves you is a terrible impersonation of a ‘yes’, your face locked onto the ocean  as you feel your chest begin to burn with embarrassment.

Your ankles dig into Juno’s shoulder muscles, barely wrapping around his large torso as  his tree-trunk arms carry you like a bag of flour.

You knew Juno was strong; He’s a goddamn Killer Whale Merman with an upper body the size of a small table, of course he’s strong.

But wow, did the way he easily throw you around turn you on way more than you thought it would.

You nod your head, taking a deep breath as you try and focus on other things, not about  rock hard your boyfriend just got you.

Unfortunately for you, the position you're in has your crotch pressed right up against Juno’s chest, in between his strong pectoral muscles.

Juno’s eyes drop to your navel, clearly noticing your growing bulge. His expression doesn’t even shift;  His arms just loosen and let your body drop down, until you and him are face to face.

“Are you hard right now?”

You nod, trying to play it cool. It wasn’t as  if this was  weird, you two were dating, but  something about getting a boner from something so simple had you a little embarrassed. Like you were 13 years old again, sneaking peeks at porno magazines and Monster Manuals under your covers late at night.

“Was it because I picked you up?”

You pause, nodding slower this time as you avert your gaze. But a claw comes under your chin, tilting it towards Juno with a slow, controlled push.

Juno had always been a huge teddy bear. You wouldn’t think it, what with the rows of sharp teeth, his long claws, and the myriad of scars that decorate his back and shoulders. But he was as sweet and docile as an Orca Merman could be.

But the look in his eyes at this moment sends a shiver down your spine; They’re so intense and focussed, if you didn’t know better you would think you were about to become his next meal. He rolls his gaze up and down your body, noting how your breath catches when he moves his hand down your neck. He runs his hand downward, thumb brushing against your collarbone and his claws tickling your pulse point. He licks his lips and the smirk he gives you might be the sexiest thing you’ve ever seen.

“Oh, you like that? Then how about,” In a quick movement, he presses his body up against yours, forcing you against a nearby rock, “This?”

Water drips from his chest and onto your face as he pins one of his hands right next to your face, looking down at you with a sultry look. You suck in a harried breath as an overwhelming heat resonates in your belly. The end of his tail curls around your ankles under the water and his other hand wraps around your neck. His grip is light, but it serves as a reminder of how easily he can pin you down, how vulnerable you are in his large, very large hands.

‘Thats, uh,” You suck up the excess saliva building in your mouth, “That’s...r-really good.”

“Hmm?” Juno chuckles, playfully squeezing your neck before his hand drops down to your chest. He pushes his palm into your skin and flexes out his fingers, covering a good portion of your upper half. “You like being pinned, my little mate?”

Words have fully departed from your mind, so you just nod your head, breathless.

Juno leans down and places a gentle kiss on your jaw. It’s light and delicate, like the Juno you know, but the heat it spreads across your body is anything but.

“Naughty boy.” He whispers in your ear, before licking a stripe up your neck. You lean and curve your neck into his mouth, desperate for his affectionate kisses and nips. His teeth just barely meet your skin, enough to leave little bruises and send shocks across skin. “I can’t wait to fill you up.” Juno wraps his atoms under your thighs, yanking them around his hips and forcing you upward. Your crotch presses against his navel as he shifts you both toward a flatbed of stone. “You’ll look so good, dripping with my seed.” Juno hoists your body up onto the rock, his large hand pressing against your stomach and pushing you onto your back. You do so easily, the cold surface feeling especially icy against your flushed skin. Juno pulls himself over you, his triceps bulging as he lays his massive form on top of you. As he rests on his forearms, careful not to crush you under his weight, water drips from his soaked hair and onto your face. “My pretty boy. My beautiful, fuckable, mate.” Juno purrs, claws stroking the side of your face.

You weave your hands around his neck, pulling him down for a searing kiss. His tongue easily overwhelms yours as his large chest presses down into you. Your hands travel to his back and clench around his shoulder muscles, craving the feeling of his skin on yours. He’s so much taller than you that you barely reach his lower abdomen, but you fumble your hand downwards to his slit, eyes still clenched shut as you make out.

The hardness of his exposed shaft finds your fingers, dripping with his pre-cum and hot against your palm. You squeeze, clumsily and fervently, and Juno chuckles.

“So eager.” He pulls away, a long strand of saliva connecting you two. “Don’t worry, it’ll be deep,” Juno thrusts into your hand with a grunt, “deep inside you soon.”

With a soft pat on your cheek, Juno scoots himself down your body until his face is level with your crotch. He grabs the tent in your swim shorts, giving it a playful squeeze before grabbing the bottom of your thighs and lifting you up. You shimmy your hips to get the article of clothing off, but before it can even go past your ankles, Juno presses your lower half upwards and folds you in two.

You crane your neck forward, trying to see Juno’s next move, before the feeling of his hot tongue on your ass sends your head back against the rock. You let out a groan as Juno’s tongue begins to prod the ring of muscle, his large fingers leaving indents on your legs as he voraciously digs in.

Jun has always been quite dexterous with his long tongue; On your first date he showed off how easily he could tie a cherry stem into a knot, which had done things to your body not exactly appropriate for a first meeting. It’s also slightly ribbed at the sides, teasing your insides at just the right spots and adding an extra hint of friction as he reaches far inside you. You pant and claw at the rock below you, before finding purchase in Juno’s hair. Your climax grows steadier and steadier. It strains your shoulders and neck, but you try and peer up and look at how perfectly he eats your ass out.

Knife sharp, baby blue eyes meet yours, and it’s like a gallon of ice-water has just washed over you, goosebumps rising all over your skin as Juno sends you a wink.

You’ve never seen this playful, dominating side of him before. You can’t help but thank your improper boner for awakening it inside him. Especially when he hits that part- that part-ooooh.

Juno detaches with a pop, his tongue sliding out of your ass as he licks his lips. With one hand still firmly gripped around your thigh, he pushes himself up so you’re face to face. His long fingers splay out next to your neck, his palm easily matching the size of your head, as you give him a dazed and pleasured look.

“You ready?”

You nod, drool pooling in your mouth as your eyes wander up and down his body, your lower half seizing as he playfully squeezes your thigh. He removes it to grab his shaft, spitting into his palm as he strokes and places his tip at your entrance.

“Tell me if the stretch is too much, okay?” Juno whispers, that familiar sweetness back in his voice. You nod, but all you’re focused on is that little bit of pressure, teasing what's to come.

Juno slowly inserts himself and  he both of you throw your heads back with a groan. He worries his  bottom lip as he sinks farther and farther into you, pressing your thighs up to your chest. The harsh scrape of stone rings in your ears as his claws dig into the rock, small pebbles flying outward as he leaves long, white marks below him.

Your eyes roll into the back of your head as Juno finally reaches his base, comfortably seating himself inside you with a small roll of his hips. His chuckle is stuttered, peppered with a moan as he gives another tiny thrust.

“Hm, good job, taking me all the way in. For a second I thought I might be too-” Juno humps with a little more vigor, forcing the air out of your lungs, “Big for you.”

You shake your head. “N-No. You’re just-Ah!-right.”

Juno laughs again, giving you a small peck on the cheek.

“Good.”

With that, Juno slowly amps his pace, adding more thrusts with a lot more power. His jutting  hip bones dig into your  ass cheeks as he punctuates each thrust; Grinding deliciously against your prostate before pulling out until only the tip is left. He moves the hand by your head up to your other thigh, clutching tight as he lays his weight against your lower body. Your knees have been pressed into your collarbone, the stretch a little uncomfortable for your lower back, but the shockwaves of ecstasy do everything to relieve it.

“Don’t think-” Ungh “I’ve ever been this deep in you before.” Ah “Can’t wait to f-fill you, it will be so delicious.”

Your tongue has started to fall out of your mouth as your brain grows fuzzy, your only responses being slurred “Yes” and “Uh-huh.”

“You’re going to look so good, dripping with my cum. I’ll pump you so full, my beautiful little mate.” Juno’s claws dig into your skin, leaving small, white half-moons in the meat of your thigh. “Perfect little breeder. You’ll take it all, huh? Don’t want to waste-” Juno gives a harsh thrust, “a-” and then another, “-drop.”

You nod, movement uncoordinated as  your climax begins to reach its peak. The burning in your gut feels red-hot, and you wrap your ankles around Juno’s lower bag, urging him to go deeper, hit even harder. Juno lets out a delicious moan.

“You want it? Say it, beg for my cum.”

Juno slows down his thrusts, getting tantalizing close to your deepest spot before pulling out. You whimper.

“Please, please! Give me your cum, give me it, all of it!”

Juno leans down and gives you a long, passionate kiss, before resuming his pace. Your lower half begins to  jerk as you get closer, closer, closer-”

“Ungh, cumming!” Juno roars as the two of you climax together, his dick pouring thick load after load into your ass. You can feel it seep into your skin, dripping out of your ass as Juno rides out his own orgasm with tiny humps. The shiny substance coats his navel and crotch, catching the setting sun as he finally pulls out.

Your legs scream with relief as they uncurl, relaxing your legs onto the cool stone below. Juno unfurls his claws and collapses next to you, chest heaving and his skin flushed pink. The sound of your breath and the crashing waves is all that lingers, both of you too tired to even form a thought.

A shaky claw pets the side of your face, pushing some unruly hair out of the way. You turn your neck to  the side, enjoying Juno’s content and debauched face.

“We should,” He sighs, “Do that position more often.”

All you can do is nod, leaning just close enough to give your boyfriend a bunny kiss.

“Yeah, definitely.”

As the two of you catch your breath,you notice the blend of purples and pink hues off the sky above. You crane your neck upward a tiny bit and catch the slightest bit  of yellow, hinting a trail to the sunset, still out of your view.

You cuddle up to Juno’s chest, resting your head on his pecks, and point upwards.

“Do you see the colors?”

“Yeah,” Juno whispers, a claw playing with your hair, “It’s beautiful.”

The sun falls far away, the night sky darkening into a pitch black, with few spots free of light pollution. The wind brings a chill and you know the swim back is going to be a bitch on your muscles.

But in the arms of your boyfriend, everything feels perfect.

[vespersposts]

Sleepless

Hi lovelies 💝,

August means something to those who have an obsession crush like mine.

💙Let's all celebrate that nice Daiki's birthday together, hoping that sooner or later he will decide to move next door to me, or in my house directly. This story is self indulgent as hell, but when it comes down to him, even your serious author loses the plot. The story is pretty long so I decided to double split it, i think it'd be easy for the two-time reading.

📝 small side note: suffering from insomnia myself, I am well aware that the representation I have given is only useful for the purposes of the narrative, I hope it does not offend other nocturnal animals .

Happy birthday D! 💘

📮Comments, criticism, sharing and like are so appreciated!📮

Follow the #knbhousewarming or #housewarmingbyvesper to find all the entries, or just ask for a tag I’d be glad to add you.

Who’s gonna be next? ( 💜: He's HUGE!). If you prefer a different Knb boy, let me know!

Love always,

V.

💋PS: If any of you amazing authors would like to contribute with original work to this series, that would be a dream for me. Please send me the link and tag me so I won’t miss any stories, and use the #knbhousewarming , as the platform sometimes gets crazy.

💣PPS: I apologize in advance for any grammatical and/or spelling mistakes, English is not my first language (bear with me!).

➿Genre: fluff, slice of life, one shot.

🏡 Housewarming Masterlist🏡

New York, Brooklyn Heights

Sunday, 03.15 A.M (ET)

A starry June night.

It hadn't happened to you for so long that you'd almost forgotten about it. You had started to lose bits and pieces of yourself sneakily, little by little, during a busy work period where sleeping hours were the last thing on your mind. A mountain of photos to edit, which the editor of the glossy fashion magazine you worked for had adored, promoting you to art director just to piss your predecessor. You had accepted, not so much because you were dying to find new trouble, but so that you could afford that house, in which you had dreamed of living since childhood.

It wasn't even like the other times: you were functioning. You worked too well, you worked twice as hard, you had twice as many ideas, but unfortunately you also thought twice as much. Perhaps you had not noticed it, but it stood there and had waited for the worst possible moment to make itself known.

The only unimportant detail, this time around your insomnia seemed not to want to go away.

One week, and if you hadn't slept at least five hours in three days you would have had to swallow the holy pills.

That's why, at that ungodly hour, you had slipped on leggings and trainers, zipped up your jacket over your sports bra, tied your hair in a high ponytail and, trotting down the building's stairs, were about to do the only thing that had worked in the past: tire yourself to death.

Off season for him mainly meant enjoying life. 

That's why from October to April he called Cleveland home, but then the rest of the year he loved to spend it in Japan or in that flat that had been recommended to him, only a few weeks earlier, by an ex teammate. A city that looked like a district of elegant brownstone cottages, with a lovely tree-lined promenade along the East River, the same one along which the girl from flat 13 was probably headed.

"Going for a run in the darkest hours, how stupid! The night was for having fun, chatting, making love and eventually sleeping ” he had thought as he held the door and enjoyed your brief ritual exchange of 'Good morning / thank you / please be careful/ sleep tight'. 

He had never ventured to ask anything , not even the reason for your strange habit of spending every night that God sent on earth awake and alone in the big flat in front of his own, going out onto the terrace to gaze at the dark night. He perceived you as a shadow against the window light, a shadow that stretched and sometimes danced to music that he couldn't hear, a shadow that returned to the night when you turned off the flat lights, and that came back from the night when your silhouette was dimly lit by the light of a faint candle. The very fact that he knew nothing about you, that he understood nothing about you, intrigued him.  You were a nocturnal, wild and elusive animal and he was the only one who understood your rare nature. In his mind you were an assumption, a fascinating thought that he could not help but think about. A challenge, an exciting balancing act. Yet you had a boyfriend, so he was told by the lovely old woman who lived next door, whom you called 'Granny' , and for whom you gladly ran small errands. "An ordinary guy" the former opera singer had revealed to him, when she had subjected him to her personal entrance examination into the social life of the building. He had wasted so much time thinking about what kind of person might have attracted your attention that, ironically, for the first time in a long time it was he who was left alone for the night. 

The sky changes, and you see the lights go on in other houses, the curtains open, and the day of people who know how to sleep can begin. You ask your pod for some music and turn on your computer, but your eyes see only one thing. You read his name in the inbox and open the email, only to realize how loathsome he can still be.

 "I'll pick Grandma up at 11 a.m. Tight schedule. Make sure she has everything she needs and not just useless evening clothes." 

"Go and die " you type back, adding a smiley emoticon as in your best tradition. It's always like that with Elliott anyway. Scion of a banking cult, slick student at your own private school, brilliant manager of the main branch of the institution founded by an ancient  great-great-grandfather. You grew up elbow to elbow, he the only one able to tolerate your less than aristocratic origins, and you the only one able to handle his awful temper. A partnership cemented by the unconditional love you both had for that now elderly lady with a very tarnished memory, for whom you were both genuinely her beloved daughter's children.

You finish your tea, open the curtains and windows, so that the fresh dawn air enters the whole flat, hoping that it will wash away even that last shapeless thought. It's probably a side effect of sleep deprivation, your brain's way of getting the endorphins you deny it, but it's ridiculous that he makes you feel like a young girl on her first crush. You look towards his balcony, the window slightly open, the lights off, and you know he is sleeping, since you met him three hours ago. He was alone, but that boy was handling traffic in his house comparable to an airport terminal.

You smile at that innocent naughtiness of yours, which is only the result of the awareness that the relationship between you will remain formal. Grandma liked him, so it was common for her to invite him for tea or some fancy excuse. She would entartain him with anecdotes, or her fantasies, or a mixture of the two, and you would find him standing in front of you, tall and alluring every day; and every day you would notice a detail that  shatters your determination not to pay attention to him. If only there was a freaking summer league, or if only he had gone back to Japan for his holiday, you would have had some respite from that constant assault on your senses.  As it was meant to be, that day too could not pass without you finding him before your eyes for the umpteenth time, his charcoal shirt that couldn't look better on those perfect shoulders, his light trousers wrapped his toned legs, his enticing eyes following you around the room, now that you asked grandma permission to review her holiday suitcase. His loud laughter and his hands, those big, long hands of his, that had touched yours to deliver a glass of water, perhaps lingering longer than necessary, but more prosaically pandering to your anxiety, now that with the departure of the hostess,  your chances to meet him would drop.

When Elliott arrives, the situation becomes surreal.

"You should go to lunch together" suggests your childhood friend, after spending the first half hour of his visit telling Grandma the epic story of the Japanese basketball champion, who is conquering the NBA, gloating like a teen in front of a k-pop idol.

"You know I go to Poppa's for lunch on Sundays" you cut it short, hoping to silence him, but the banker who looks like a Vogue model, is having none of it.

"In that Bed-Stuy dump?" he snorts, looking at Daiki as if the latter might know something about the toponymy of the quarters.

"Elliott, I was born there, I'd appreciate it if you didn't call it a sewer" you take him back, under the embarrassed gaze of your host.

"It sucks even if you were born there! Besides, what the fuck are you doing at Poppa's, if you don't even like meat! You're not a fucking rat anymore!" fights that big son of a gun. You fold your arms across your chest and are about to send him to hell, but he grabs you close for a hug, and you give in.

"Do you really want to take Aomine to a place like that, sis ?" he asks you , just to provoke you again, as if he expects a thank you for setting you up on a date. You look at him, half-close your eyes, about to give your answer when his voice shushes you both.

"Im so in for it. I'd like to see something different. You're gonna buy me lunch in return, deal? " his voice was so deep and warm. You'd like to make an excuse and leave him in that room, but the only thing you make him leave at home, as a precaution, is his watch.

"I hope you're not the fussy type" your  voice comes to him out of the blue, shortly after you've taken a seat in a filthy underground car. 

"No, I wouldn't say that " he replies, noticing how the landscape changes rapidly: from the open space of your nice district you move on to large buildings all leaning against each other, shops with broken or worn out signs, dirty streets and people with empty eyes.

"You're probably thinking Elliott was right, but ..." you carry on, as if suddenly embarrassed.

"Not at all. I was actually wondering why you moved, if you love your old block so much " he asks, turning his eyes from the window to your own.

"Because Bed-Stuy had nothing to offer me, apart from Poppa's cooking " you sigh " Since I had good grades, they admitted me to Elliott's school, but you can imagine what it was like. I was "rat" for everyone except him. Actually, when I took this train from school and went back home, all I thought about was how much I wanted to leave, how much I wanted to live in the beautiful Brooklyn Heights too, where the houses had lots of rooms and a balcony, where there were people like Grandma and not drug dealers and criminals. I'm not in love with this area, but I owe a lot to it, that's why I go back there every Sunday " you admit, giving him a glance, and he feels you so close and fragile that he would hug you tight, but he knows that would be inappropriate, to say the least.

You get off the metro, and after a short walk you find yourself in front of a row of buildings all alike, dense like the cells of a beehive, closed around a sort of common space that probably should have been a recreational area equipped with facilities, but now only looks decadent, sad and rusty. He saw  groups of children playing haphazardly and cheerfully, kids with loud music watching you quizzically, elderly people raising their hands to wave at you, bullies making offers that fall on deaf ears, until you find yourself in a narrow, dark alley, right behind what must once have been a basketball court. Yet the entrance to the diner was on the main face of the building, as the arrow of the sign suggests. 

"Come, don't be afraid, looks bad but it's safe" you mock him gently, your hand reaching for his one, your fingers interlacing with his to reassure him, but the effect his body sends back is a wave of overwhelming desire that makes his blood boil in his ears and leaves him unable to articulate words. He runs the palm of his hand along your forearm, over your skin, so soft and smooth. You look at him, open your lips to tell something, but he has already lost the ability to understand. Skinship, attraction, risk, a lethal mixture is pumped through his veins at an unsustainable pace.  He is about to close his fingers around your elbow to pull you to him and take you, locking you against that cold brick wall, when a male voice roars your name and divides you.

Poppa is a giant with a contagious good temper and arrogant, hearty cooking, who immediately sets you up at the best table in the place, in the small green space at the end of the dark alley, just behind his kitchen. Your burger looks alive, judging by the amount of toppings and cheese it leaks, which is why you are teased by both of them, who over the years must have honed an exact technique for holding bread, meat and toppings together.

"It's not a guy who looks like him, Pops" you explain, making the man's eyes widen "I brought you the real deal!" you smile, taking a long sip of water. Now the man's attention shifts to you, because "He knew he had seen you somewhere before".

"That's me Sir. Aomine Daiki, the one who plays in Cleveland" you reply and see the man's eyes light up with joy. "Man! We are all crazy about you, you're a genius!" the man shouts, calling out to all his kitchen staff, so that they too can shake hands and take pictures with the man who scored an average of 22 points per game in the last championship. It starts a party, which soon involves the whole block and in which he seems completely at ease, so much so, that he willingly accepts to shoot a few rounds with a group of boys from the local team, raising the already torrid temperature considerably, when he takes off his shirt and asks you to keep it, completely unaware of the emotional tsunami that watching him play causes. If Daiki in grandma's kitchen is attractive, in his element he is the most sensual and exciting man walking on earth. The way he moves, his absolute mastery of his body, those bright eyes full of agonism and above all his smile so radiant and seductive, which he never fails to turn on you after every point scored.

"Awesome!" shouts the girl sit next to you on the bench.

To you it's not awe, it's crave.

That dangerous feeling does not leave you even when you return to the metro, when you shower in your flat only to knock on his door shortly afterwards, having agreed to have dinner with him, bewildered as you were by lust.

You find him exactly as you left, absorbed in a phone call with someone he likes as he laughs, but that's all you can understand as he speaks a fascinating but unfamiliar language to you, which makes his voice sound even deeper.

"Excuse me, bestfriends catchup" he smiles, as you reach to take two glasses from his hands, asking if he can get you water instead of the caffeinated drink he opens for himself.

"I can't sleep lately, so I'm trying to ... " you stop, because there is no need for him to know that embarrassing fact about you. He glances at you fondly, as if he really cares about your story.

"Yeah I mean, it's a period where I should also call someone special to relax" you cut in short, taking a sip of water.

“You can call him, I'm sure he'd love to be your hero! ” he suggests.

"Him who, though? Elliott?" you ask, as you follow him moving away from you to retrieve a set of flyers from the fridge.

"Your boyfriend" he says, leaning back against the kitchen counter.

"I don't have a boyfriend " you answer with undue urgency, figuring out shortly afterwards the genesis of that misunderstanding, as Grandma had muddled up Elliott's boyfriend as yours.

"Time to get one, if you don't want the situation to worsen! " he says, approaching you, taking advantage of your discomfort to mess up your hair, and leave the flyers in your hands, with the options from which you will have to choose your dinner. Then he finally goes to take a shower, smiling at you blushing at his soft tease.

A normal routine.

"For a couple " adds your brain, which has evidently lost all its best cells, and can't think of anything else. You sit on the chubby rough linen sofa in the big white living room, look at the dark marble of the fireplace, the high neoclassical walls, the windows with their thin curtains, close your eyes and lean your head , trying to avoid the storytelling of that absurd fantasy. Yet, all the naughty things you two could be busy doing on every surface of that huge house, are the only thoughts swirling around in your head. That sharp desire takes all your energy away, surely making you look pathetic in his eyes, actually used to see models, and not a vapid chick like you. You rub your face and take a deep breath, feeling a sudden saddness that makes your body heavy.

He quickly ran a towel through his hair, pulled on a white T-shirt, fastened his dark trousers and inhaled, because after that day, it had been a terrible idea to ask you to stay for dinner. He wasn't ready, and now what he had felt after your last conversation was haunting him, reverberating endlessly in his mind. He wanted to take care of you, he wanted to be him and no one else the mainstay of your life, and that was upsetting, because that was not the way he was. He was careless, free, unattached. Yet he would not have tolerated you perceiving him that way. He wanted to be infallible in your eyes. He wanted to be the one, unrepeatable, incomparable, irreplaceable.

And then he wanted to have you. He wanted to have you so badly.

He smiled because on the large sofa in the living room you looked so tiny, all curled up on one of the large linen cushions, one bare foot on the edge of the furniture, your small hand beside your sleeping face, your soft breathing , your hair spread over your shoulders left bare by the pretty blue dress you were wearing.

Too damn cute.

He dimmed the lights in the room until they went out, leaving only the pale reading light on, retrieved a blanket, but stopped shortly after because a sudden flick of your eyelids caught his attention. 

"Dai-ki," you tell him with a sigh, probably still in dreamland, as you can't keep your eyes open. You smile as he approaches and slowly strokes your head, running his fingers through your hair and over the nape of your neck, sitting on the rug at the foot of the sofa so he can see you.

" I'm here" he says gently to your sleeping self, resuming his slow, sweet caress.

"Speak to me, tell me something in your language, anything " you call him out in a smooth voice, so innocent but with a hint of need that immediately roused all his senses

"Daisuki na, oyasumi nasai. Yoku nemureru to iine." (*) he indulges you idly, more to himself, thinking that you may have already caught up on your sleep, so beautiful and cuddly that those words come out naturally, as if he is breathing.

"Your voice is so sultry , it gives me chills " you murmur, blinking a little, your soft lips curving upwards.

"Chills?" he asks back, amused.

"Anything about you is so damn attractive, do you have any idea how tiring it is to resist ? " you admit, laughing quietly at your own boldness, turning towards him, so close you can feel his scent. He smiles at you, bringing your forehead into contact with his. You open your eyes and you feel your body slightly shiver , when he demands your undivided attention, pressing his thumb against your lower lip as he whispers those words.

"Then don't"

He closes the distance between you, working his way over you, locking his eyes in yours, making you sigh. His lips join yours with a light touch, that immediately deepens. He smiles against your lips, his tongue plays with yours, his voice claims you with a sensual moan to which you immediately surrend, as you do not want him to miss anything about you. You smile just to catch your breath, and kiss him back wholeheartedly. His eyes close ever so slightly after yours, allowing him to lose himself completely in your warmth.

It hadn't happened to you for so long that you had almost forgotten. You had forgotten what it was like to wake up in the house of someone who smiled at you, while you were having breakfast on the terrace of his flat, who stole your food, teasing you because you had fallen asleep like a stone on his sofa. A funny, handsome man with a childlike soul who, only a few days earlier , you had hoped would spend the off season light years away from you, but who now, leaning next to you on the railing of his flat, already seemed too far away.

(*): Hopefully it's the correct form for "Goodnight, my love. I hope you sleep well"