#I’m keeping him like the for the summer ig

[laine-975]

For anyone who has that (probably) knockoff Kaito plush from Amazon and was wondering if you could take the coat off

Yes, yes you can

[lovethatlaiduslow]

Finally met all 3 of my housemates and the sich is looking more dire by the second

[afterglowsainz]

mclaren admin | oscar piastri

summary: mclaren’s admin only posts pictures of oscar and fans start to notice

fc: tyla

a/n: guys i made this earlier last week and i wrote a joke about lando having no wins and then miami happened😭 he really told me to stfu

—

liked by yourusername, zbrownceo and others

mclaren ready for another race week🇪🇸

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yourusername another day another slay

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bffusername SLAYING INDEED🔥

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mclaren getting ready for the action! 👊🏽

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username BABE WAKE UP NEW OSCAR CONTENT

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landonorris posting these here since mclaren won’t

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yourusername 🙄🙄

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mclaren as per request🧡

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oscarpiastri enjoying summer break☀️

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username oh this is too cute

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logansargeant to bad i beat you at cricket😁

oscarpiastri blocked

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oscarpiastri best vacations always by your side❤️

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username he really said fuck the soft launch 🫵🏼

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yourusername oscar! 🧡

oscarpiastri my loveee🧡

username oh these two bleed papaya

[allbark-no-bite]

good boy.

art donaldson x reader (wc: 2.9k)

summary: as Art’s personal physical therapist, it’s your job to fix what Tashi has torn apart, by whatever means necessary. or in which Art just needs some TLC

warnings: 18+ smut, it could be worse tbh, mentions of disordered eating

author’s note: i’m back ig?? im out of uni for the summer and challengers has me in a chokehold. Art Donaldson the man that you are

————————————————————————

You're standing just within earshot of the doorway, passing a sanitary wipe over one of the tables in the athlete treatment room when you hear the door abruptly open. Tashi storms in with a purpose and Art trails meekly behind her. Even if you had been clueless to how the match had gone rather than on the sidelines beside Tashi not even twenty minutes ago, you could have guessed by the hard line of her mouth that Art was in for it. Not that her displeased scowl was much different from her usual scowl, but you'd been around long enough to know the difference.

She stops abruptly, and Art heels obediently as Tashi turns around to face him. "I need you to tell me when you're going to fucking get it together so that I can stop wasting my time."

Weary and sweat soaked, Art just stares at her with that pitiful look on his face and says nothing in reply. His blue eyes solemnly take in her harsh disappointment as though beyond used to it. At this point it's not all that foreign to you either.

"You may as well be fucking asleep out there," she snaps.

This time his mouth opens. "I- I'm just tired-" he begins, although there's hardly any argue to his voice at all.

"No, I'm tired, Art," Tashi interjects. "Do you have any idea how much fucking work I've put into getting you back onto the court this past year?! I've done everything! The least you could do go out there and try to act like I've done anything for you at all!"

Art swallows, the slight frown on his face deepening. "I am. I just- I don't-"

Before he can even finish his sentence. The open palm of Tashi's hand connects with his cheek as she pops the left side of his face. Art closes his mouth. You pretend to concentrate on wiping down the table. It's not the first time you've witnessed one of these conversations but it still feels private, like you shouldn't be here. You keep wiping the table.

Understanding that anything else he says is only going to make Tashi angrier, Art resigns to once again watching her in silence. His blue eyes are sad. The usually fair skin of his cheek is tinted pink where she popped him. Although it wasn't very hard, you're sure it still hurt him all the same.

"Quit wasting my time," is all she says before she finally turns and leaves, walking right past you and out the other door. You hold your breath as she passes you. Art watches her go but makes no move to follow. You release an audible sigh. It's been a frustrating day for everyone. As Art's personal trainer, physical therapist, and close friend, you felt every loss, every ache and pain, every bad play. And there seemed to be a lot of those lately.

Art is still standing there, watching the closed door that Tashi left though.

Not knowing how to break the silence, you finally pat the freshly sanitized treatment table. "C'mon," you call gently, as though beckoning to a wounded dog.

It takes a moment for him to budge, but eventually he does, his disheartened spirit apparent in the way he walks over. Used to the usual routine, he tugs his damp shirt off over his head as he takes a seat, the lean muscles of his torso flexing as he does so. You allow yourself to ogle at him, only for a brief moment before stepping in between the bracket of his knees. Gently, you cradle his chin, tipping his head back to look up at you as your thumb smooths over the redness of his cheek. His blue eyes blink up at you, sad and dog-like.

"It wasn't terrible," you reassure him. "You had surgery six months ago. You're still getting your feet back underneath you. Most people wouldn't have come back." You're right. The still-pink scars on his shoulder are still fresh on your mind. The stitches weren't even out before Tashi had him in physical therapy. Even though his medical team had released him, it was still a bit early to start doing rehab so soon after surgery, Art's comfort being your biggest concern. But when Tashi wants something, she gets it.

Wordlessly, Art sighs, the weight of his head settling into your palm as he finally lets go of the tension he'd been carrying. It was always like this. You fixing what Tashi had torn apart. You understood where Tashi was coming from. Art needed a firm voice in his training, and you had a lot of respect for the way she put her foot down and never let up, not even once. But there was only so many times you could kick a dog while he was down.

So if Art needed someone to coddle him, you would coddle him.

He trusts you. He needs you, is what Tashi had told you when she asked you to stay on as his trainer full time. The three of you had been in the same year at Stanford all those years ago, Tashi and Art on the tennis team and you helping out as a student trainer as part of a class requirement. Three peas in a pod, the trio of you were. Of course then they both graduated, leaving you to finish up your schooling, meanwhile Art set off to go pro.

A few years later, once Tashi officially took on the position as Art's coach, she began building his team, and that's where you came in. You were hesitant at first.

'I already lost to you once, Tashi. I won't come in second to you again.'

She had paused on the other end of the line. Back in your Stanford days, it was obvious to anyone with eyes that you were head over heels in love with the blonde tennis player. But loving Art was like accepting the participation ribbon for a game you knew you weren't going to win in the first place. It was like standing next to the podium, just lucky enough to be included in the picture while Tashi and tennis took first and second place. And so you let him go.

'I'm not asking you to. This is different.'

Your hand slips from his face, and he forces his eyes open.

“Have you eaten?" you ask, stepping away in order to put some distance between the two of you and look for the granola bars that you keep especially for him. The gels were good sources of quick fuel in between sets, but they were hardly enough to even begin to make up for the calories he burned while playing.

Slowly, Art shakes his head, but he makes no move to take the snack from your hand when you offer it to him. Ever since his injury, nutrition became all the more important. So much to the point that every single thing that he consumed was mapped out to the exact calorie. Although he would never admit it, any sort of change in this routine made him incredibly anxious. Some days it was better not to cause him the anxiety than to force him.

Today, you insistently hold out the bar until he begrudgingly takes it from your hand. You don't move until you've seen him tear open the package and take a bite.

"Were you still feeling tight?" you ask as you walk around the table, stopping at the slouch of his turned back. You reach out to grasp at the joint of his neck and shoulder, your thumb smoothing over the kinesiology tape that's peeling away at the base of his neck.

He half turns his head to glance back at you. "You watched the match. You tell me."

His response is meant to be snippy, but it comes out more defeated than anything. To be fair, you've been his trainer long enough to know that if something was bothering him physically, you would have picked up on it.

"I want to hear it from you."

"I felt fine."

Your left hand follows suit on the other side of his neck, and you use both of your thumbs to apply pressure to what you assume will be a tense spot along the upper part of his traps. Predictably, Art groans at the attention. The muscles of his back contract as he fights the urge to shake you off. Relaxing the muscle hurts as much as it feels good. Besides his obvious discomfort, the rest of his body has gone lax under your touch. His shoulders have dropped at least an inch, and his chin has fallen to rest against his chest.

"Finish your granola bar," you reprimand him, your firm fingers working across his back until you find another spot that nearly has him jerking away. He releases a whine but obediently takes another bite of the bar. This time he finishes it before you have to remind him again.

You spend a few more minutes torturing him before you're satisfied that a majority of the tension has left his shoulders.

"Okay, good boy," you murmur, leaning forward so that your chest is close enough to brush against his back. One of your hands trails up to squeeze the back of his neck reassuringly.

You're close enough to hear him swallow at the name. The skin on the nape of his neck shivers despite how hot he still is from the match.

"Was I?" he asks timidly. "Good today?"

'I can be his coach. Or I can be the person he cries to after a bad day. But I can't be both. That's why he needs you."

Without removing your hand from his neck, you walk around the table so you're standing in front of him. Art widens the spread of his legs so that you can stand between them. His chin is still pressed to his chest, blue eyes focused on the ground.

"Art," is all you say, shifting your grip on his neck to tug lightly at his golden blonde hair. At your voice, he lifts his head just enough to look up at you through the pale wisps of his eyelashes. The irises of his blue eyes shine are wet with uncertainty.

Your fingers loosen their grip to allow your nails to scratch at his scalp. "You're good, Art. You'll always be good."

Art twists his head to nuzzle his cheek along the inside of  your outstretched arm. His lips kiss the crook of your elbow. He swallows again. "Even if I don't play tennis?"

You can tell the question's been bothering him, eating at his nerves, and messing up his game. You know him well enough to know that retirement isn't what he wants, not really. At least not right now. What he wants is the reassurance that it's going to be okay if he can't swing the comeback.

"Look at me."

He lingers a moment longer with his lips pressed lovingly against your skin before he reluctantly shifts his gaze up to you. His look is anticipatory but reserved, as if to preemptively conceal his disappointment should you choose to crush his heart with your answer.

His fear is understandable. Art's relationship with Tashi has always been entirely built off of his tennis career. By being the driving force behind his success, Tashi has vicariously lived out the life she would have had had her injury never happened. Without tennis, Art has nothing left to offer her. He knows that if he gives up tennis, he loses Tashi.

Your relationship with Art was a little less conditional. Hell, you'd been in love with him since the first time you'd laid eyes on him at Stanford. You can still picture him standing there on the court, barely nineteen, scrawny, nervous smile, backwards cap over his strawberry blonde hair. Before he was the Art Donaldson. But when Tashi had stepped into the picture, you figured that was where your fairytale ended.

"I don't love you because of tennis. I love you because you're kind, and thoughtful, and you're passionate about what you do." You smile a bit before adding, "And you're my good boy."

The name turns him bashful again, and he's quick to turn and hide his smiling face against your arm, only the flushed tips of his ears visible. "[Y/n]," he mumbles, likely meaning to be threatening, but it doesn't come out that way.

Art Donaldson lived to be praised.

You laugh, pulling him closer so that his face is held against your chest. The hand that you don't have threaded through his hair trails up the muscle of his defined quad. "You're my good boy. Aren't you, baby?"

Art whines, squirming when your hand reaches the apex of his thigh and hovers over the forming bugle of his shorts. He's not quite there yet, his dick only half chubbed up in interest, but given the day that he's had, you won't make him wait.

"Please?" he mumbles, his face still buried into your collarbone, as if attempting to curling into you, like a small child needing their parent to hold them for comfort.

You rake your nails lightly up the inside of his thigh. "What, baby?"

Not only did Art liked to be praised, but he was masochist even on his worst days.

"Want you to touch me," he mumbles, his voice muffled by your shirt. "Please."

Your hand still scratching through his hair, you press a kiss to the side of his head, unable to suppress your smile at his timid politeness and how it never seems to fail him. The only time he ever resembled anything remotely voracious was on the court.

Palm finding his tented shorts, you cup him through the fabric. Art responds immediately to your touch, his hips shifting further into your grasp. You continue to pet him through his shorts, appreciating the way you can feel him actively responding to your touch.

His nails dig into the padding of the treatment table when you give his now fully hard dick a less than sympathetic squeeze. His breath is hot as he pants against your collarbone, alternating between laving open mouthed kisses to your skin and whining when you pause fondling him just to feel his hips rut up into your palm.

Art was so in control on the tennis court, that often after a match, putting the control into someone else's hands was just what he needed.

When his hips start to stutter, you ease up but continue to stroke him through his shorts. The front of his shorts are damp with the musk of residual sweat and precum.

His breath is shallow—anticipatory.

"Gunna come?" you ask softly, speaking into the blonde mess of his hair, cradling him. He right there, you can tell by the lackluster buck of his hips, his building fatigue, and the change in his breathing.

"Can I? —Please?" Art asks breathily. He hiccups out the last part, his voice catching.

"You know you don't have to ask."

There's a brief pause, as if coming to the realization, before he meekly murmurs, "I know.

It should be sad really, his unwavering obedience, but there are two sides to Art, two polar extremes. On the court, every match, every set, every debilitating second is up to him. No one else can help him out there, and up until about a year ago, he played like it. That was the side of Art Donaldson that Tashi wanted. After the match is a different story. In private, Art needed someone to do the thinking for him, to pull him into a reality where he could believe that it didn't matter whether he won or lost. Tashi had not the sympathy nor the patience for that kind of fragility.

Art comes with a brief cry into your chest, his body arching into yours. Your hand palms at his pulsing dick until he's oversensitive and pulling away. When you relent, the front of his shorts are sticky and wet.

Finally, Art lifts his face from the safety of your chest. His blue eyes are glossed over, but it's an improvement from the detached look they held ten minutes ago. His cheeks are flushed, a mixture of his own embarrassment and satisfaction. 

You can't help the soft smile that creeps onto your face at the look of him, and immediately Art is abashedly trying to hide his face again, his own smile starting to appear. Before he can, you bring your hands back up to cradle his face, thumbs wiping away the wetness from under his eyes. This time he lets you.

His eyes study your face for a second, admiring you, appreciating the love he has for you.

“I don’t want to play tennis anymore.”

You can’t tell if it’s more of a statement or a confession. Either way, you know he’s telling you the absolute truth.

“Okay,” you reply softly, not hint of judgement in your voice. Maybe some disappointment, but that was understandable.

Retirement would be a kindness. Art would finally put back on some healthy weight, start smiling again, put on a real, actual smile. You could already see it, a nice house for the two of you to settle down in, with a picket fence and a dog in the backyard, the kind of things the two of you would have never had time for on tour.

Tennis had brought the two of you together, but it wouldn’t end you.

[gimmethatagustd]

you could wear my hat | kth

It's hard for Taehyung to ensure no one's getting into trouble at the beach when you look so cute in his snapback.

○ Pairing: Lifeguard!Taehyung x f!Reader

○ Rating: Mature

○ Genre: Beachtown, fluff (ig?), in the words of Paramore, crush crush crush

○ 17 / 100 Drabble Challenge (Lifeguard)

○ Word Count: 1,503

○ Warnings: TH has lots of tastefully dirty thoughts, tension, an almost kiss

○ Notes: I wrote this for @daechwitatamic even though she didn't ask for it. Rest in Peace our Short King, Easy Mac 😔🙏🏽 I miss you every day. Also, I know the hats in the photos aren't actually snapbacks okay?? The summary sounded cuter when I said "snapback" instead of "dad hat" and it fits the song OKAY?? Let me cook.

○ Post Date: July 14, 2024

○ Masterlist | AO3 Crosspost

○ What was Jai listening to? Wear My Hat - Mac Miller

“Can I wear your hat?”

You lean against one of the tall, wooden legs of the lifeguard chair, your bare shoulder pressed against its sandy surface. Sand sticks to your sweaty skin in a few other places Taehyung notices when you walk over to where the team of lifeguards gather to prepare for the day: your knees, the backs of your thighs, the curve of your asscheeks that your cheeky swimsuit bottoms expose when you walk.

He’s looking respectfully, of course. As a lifeguard, Taehyung sees bodies of all shapes and sizes, large expanses of skin in all colors, and many faces alight with the sun's warmth. Bodies are bodies, and Taehyung knows how to appreciate all of them. He especially likes yours. Respectfully.

“Wear my hat?”

“Mhm, I forgot mine at home, and it’s so bright out,” you explain with a smile that makes Taehyung’s stomach queasy like the rock of a boat during a storm. Weirdly, he likes it.

With his head bent, Taehyung raises it slightly, just enough to look at you through his eyelashes. The position makes his eyes big and round, giving him an innocent look that people fawn over — not that he knows. Taehyung knows he’s objectively attractive, but he’s mostly oblivious to the whispers and giggles in his wake when he patrols the beach every summer morning, a snapback slid over his slicked back hair, broad chest on display, a few thin necklaces resting against his pecs. It doesn’t matter what the whispers and giggles mean unless they’re coming from you.

“The sun is barely in the sky,” Taehyung points out, and your smile widens.

It’s relatively early, and the sun is only just emerging from the ocean. The sky is still painted in swooping swaths of pinks and baby blues, with a few wispy clouds as accent marks. Taehyung wishes a camera or his painter’s hand could accurately replicate the feeling he gets when he watches the sky turn like this or the feeling he gets when he turns his attention back to you and thinks you’re looking at him as if you feel the same way.

“But it will be soon.” A counterargument Taehyung can’t possibly rebut.

With an exaggerated sigh, Taehyung grabs the bill behind his head and pulls his hat off. He’s quick to run his hand through his hair, pushing it back so it doesn’t fall into his eyes now that he doesn’t have his hat to hold it into place.

He holds out his hat for you to take, snatching it back just before your fingers curve around the bill.

“Taehyung.”

“Just make sure you give it back.” He shakes his hat as if to scold you in advance for any bad thoughts you may have about potentially keeping it.

“Of course.”

“I’m serious.”

He lets you snatch it out of his hand and tries not to smile at the devious, triumphant little look you give him when you slip the hat. You wear it backward, too, and Taehyung returns his focus to lathering his skin with thick sunscreen because he doesn’t know what to do with the hurricane stirring in his chest.

You look cute wearing his hat. There’s something about the masculinity of it contrasting with the particular brand of femininity that comes with a pretty girl sunbathing on the beach, smelling of coconut that carries in the wind, designer sunglasses reflecting Taehyung’s sunkissed disheveledness that comes with the territory of spending his days in nature, a romance novel tucked under your arm as you pick out a beach chair near the lifeguard stand. You’re Taehyung’s personal nightmare wrapped up in polka dots and sweaty cleavage he wouldn’t mind licking the salt off of.

“I’ll stay right here,” you promise as you drape a towel over the chair, “that way, you can monitor me so I don’t make off with your prized possession.”

The hat doesn’t even matter. It’s denim so worn that it has turned soft and boneless. The name of the beach is embroidered on the front in a font meant to look like messy handwriting, and it’s so sunbleached that it looks vintage even though Taehyung bought it a few years ago at the touristy gift shop down the street, back when he had a buzzcut and forgot to bring a hat to work. Preventing a scalp sunburn was worth putting up with the stupid gift shop prices.

“My shift hasn’t started yet…” Taehyung doesn’t know why he tells you. You can probably tell. Another lifeguard is sitting on the stand right now; Taehyung is early.

Lowering the beach chair so you can lie flat on it, you rotate his hat so the bill is in the front again, shielding your face from the sun well enough that you can take off your sunglasses.

“Then sit.”

It doesn’t take telling Taehyung twice. He immediately plops on the edge of the beach chair beside you, close enough that there’s only enough space in between your chairs for him to fit his legs.

“What are you reading?”

“Some filth from BookTok. Toxic relationships, violence, smut, all that fun stuff.” You toss your book to him, watching with a sly smile as he flips it over to read the summary.

You look sweet, Taehyung’s favorite brand of Neapolitan ice cream that drips down the cone and curls around his wrist on a hot summer day. There’s an edge to you, though, like Taehyung might get a brain freeze if he consumes you as eagerly as he wants to.

Brain freezes don’t stop people from eating ice cream.

“Do you like it?” he asks, returning the book. Your fingers rub against each other, sandy and rough, and Taehyung thinks he wouldn’t mind such roughness dragged across his back.

“The book? Or toxic relationships?” You grin when Taehyung scoffs, both of you knowing what he meant. “The writing is exactly what you’d expect from a book bored suburban millennial housewives would recommend on TikTok, but it’s entertaining.”

Taehyung nods, unsure of what else to say. He isn’t usually this quiet, but you have a way of making his head go blank. It reminds him of how he feels when swimming at the community pool. With the pool water lapping at his ears every time he comes up for air, only to lower into the water with each stroke, Taehyung can’t hear anything but the comforting silent sound of being underwater. Swimming is the only time his mind is still long enough for him to let go of the chatter he normally hears inside his head, to go blank.

And then there’s you, teasing and hard to read. Taehyung curls his hands around the edge of the beach chair and tries to ground himself when you slowly sit up to face him, knees knocking into each other.

“You’re really stereotypical,” you say with a laugh.

Taehyung furrows his eyebrows and blinks a few times, stomach dipping when you squeeze one of his shoulders.

“What?”

“You’re so spacy. Such a surfer dude, nothing but sand and seaweed in there, huh?” You slide your hand to the crook of his neck so you can lift your fingers high enough to play with the hair at his nape. “It’s cute.”

“I’m smart,” Taehyung says blankly, and you laugh again.

He thinks you’re going to kiss him. You’re close enough to do it, with your knees pressed to his and your toes wiggling in the sand with his. Coconut and salt, that’s what he knows your lips would taste like. What your body would taste like if he could lay you down on the beach chair and feel what it’s like to touch your skin, only the occasional splotch of sand as a layer between you.

You pinch a strand of hair and pull lightly, effortlessly coaxing Taehyung to tilt his head backward slightly.

“What time does your shift end?” You’re so close now. Taehyung thinks he can taste your words.

“I work six-hour shifts,” Taehyung speaks as softly as the morning waves lap against the shore.

“Maybe we could—”

A shout from the lifeguard stand makes Taehyung flinch, knocking off your hand from his neck.

“Taehyung-ah! Let’s go!” One of the other lifeguards motions for Taehyung to get up.

By the time Taehyung returns his gaze to you, you’re leaning forward to press your lips to his cheek, just beside his mouth. It's quick, barely there, but it's everything.

“Better get up there, pretty boy,” you say with another grin that turns Taehyung’s stomach into a whirlpool. “I’ll have to leave before you’re done, but it’ll be pretty sunny by then. Might need to keep this.”

You tap the bill of Taehyung’s hat as you open your book, no longer looking at Taehyung. He thinks it’s intentional teasing and finds that he likes it.

“I guess I’ll have to hunt you down to get it back,” Taehyung brushes off sand from his legs and ignores another shout of his name.

“I guess you will.”

Disclaimer: All my writing is fictional and for entertainment purposes only. None of these characters are meant to actually represent the real people mentioned in the stories. All rights reserved © @gimmethatagustd​ - Do not copy, repost, modify, or translate any of my writing. Do not use my writing for any AI purposes whatsoever. Do not use my fics for anything aside from reading and commenting on them. My fics will only be posted on this Tumblr and on AO3 (gimmethatagustd & daddytaehyungie). 

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。08:00 PM — AL-HAITHAM.

idk i just felt like. writing haitham grieving his grandmother. it’s also a slight character study ig. idk if anyone will read this but if you do. just know that he is the core of my heart. his grandmother too i mourn her death so much sobs

“hey,” you say gently, sitting next to him. al-haitham only grunts in acknowledgment, slumped on the couch. “d’you want dinner? i made your favorite.”

“not hungry,” he mumbles.

his grandmother’s death anniversary is a sore spot. it’s a day you tiptoe around carefully every year. you don’t know much about his family—just that he was orphaned very young and raised by his father’s mother until the ripe age of 16. you’ve seen the dainty handwriting inside the covers of books, and you’ve even seen a small, framed photograph that he keeps stowed away.

sometimes, you wish he’d tell you. you wish the far away look and the clenched fist around the fabric of his pants would ease with your presence. you wish he’d tell you about her, that you’d know the woman who raised the man you love—even if only through hushed words and old stories.

“you hate sleeping on an empty stomach,” you hum, placing your hand over his clenched one.

his fist loosens a little—progress.

“i…” he pauses, let’s out a heavy sigh before letting his head fall back. there’s tension in his shoulders, in his neck, in the jaw he keeps so tightly clenched. “i won’t be sleeping for a bit. sorry,” he tries to sound apologetic. you don’t hear much in his tone besides defeat. “you can head in without me.”

“that’s okay,” you shrug, forcing his clenched fingers apart to weave yours in with his. “i don’t sleep well without you anyway.”

“suit yourself,” is all he says.

and it’s silent for a bit. he seems to be thinking deeply—or reminiscing, maybe grieving. maybe all three, but you’re not too sure. you’re never too sure when it comes to how al-haitham feels about anything.

he’s hard to decipher—but he’s easy to pull apart. you don’t understand how someone as hard and calculating as him is so gentle with love, but it’s hard not to notice how soft his touch is, how it lingers, how the tips of his fingers long for you. you don’t doubt he loves you—he never gives you the chance to.

but sometimes….sometimes you wish he’d let you love him properly. to kiss the scars. to admire the parts he thinks are ugly. to shelter the thoughts that have no home besides his own head.

it’s silent for a bit—until it’s not. you break the silence first, like you’re holding a hand out for him from the shore as he drifts aimlessly.

“baby?” you ask quietly. he grunts again in response. “what was she like?”

“who?”

al-haitham is a smart man. probably the smartest you’ve ever met. you don’t think you’ve ever met someone who read physics books as a pastime, and you’re pretty certain he’ll always be the only one. you know he knows exactly what you’re asking and you know he’s avoiding it.

but it doesn’t stop you though—it’s been long enough, you think. you’ve known him long enough. craved him for a few summers and loved him for enough winters that he has pieces of you that fall through the cracks of your resolve.

you think you deserve a few pieces of him too—even if your fingers have to reach past the cracks themselves, even if they have to slice against the jagged edges and bleed a little in the process.

you’ll bleed for him—like the sun rises from the east and sets in the west, your heart beats for al-haitham. and it’ll bleed for him too.

“your grandmother,” you whisper. “you’ve never told me about her.”

“there’s not much to tell,” he shrugs. “she died right before i enrolled in the akademiya and she raised me after my parents died.”

“i’m sure there’s more,” you say gently—his grip has tightened on your hand now. you don’t think he realizes—in fact, you don’t think al-haitham realizes half of what he feels when it comes to vulnerability.

it’s why he realizes he loves you so late. it’s why you fall first and he falls after. but he falls harder—it’s not hard to see.

“she was a kshahrewar scholar,” he offers blankly.

your thumb brushes over his knuckles, and it’s almost like your hand reaches past the shore just a little further—you don’t mind risking the fall into the water if it means pulling him out.

“haitham,” you sigh delicately. he swallows. it’s hard to keep composure for long—even for someone like him.

grief is an evil thing. it’s a familiar friend—one you wish you never made and one you’ll never shake away. it dances with you under the moonlight, when the stars are bright but the sky is heavy. it barely grazes your skin some days but weighs into your bones on others. it’s a cruel thing really—and it hits you harder some moments than others.

“she was kind,” he starts slowly, his hand reaching out and grabbing yours over the shoreline. maybe, just maybe, sometimes he can get tired of drifting too. “she liked to bake. her hands got too weak to knead dough when i got older, though. you would have liked her tarts. she couldn’t read without her glasses and she always forgot they were on her head. she said my father looked like her husband and that i look like my father. she used to ask me to read to her sometimes so i’d sit on her lap and read my books out loud. she loved the sunrise but was never good at waking up on time to see it. she used to drink tea during sunsets. she liked hers extra sweet and i liked mine more bitter. i…” he pauses, voice shaky as his fingers dig into your hand. you squeeze, and he sniffles. “i haven’t had tea since she passed.”

“she sounds lovely,” you whisper. “i would have loved to meet her.”

“she’d have loved you,” he cracks a small smile, shaking his head as he thinks. “probably more than she loved me.”

“i’m sure i’d never compare to her darling grandson,” you chuckle, bumping arms with him. his head drops to your shoulder—you hesitate for a moment before deciding to pull him into your chest. and when he doesn’t protest, when he buries himself into you instead of pulling away, you thread your fingers into his hair.

“i miss her,” he croaks quietly.

“i know,” you soothe. “i know, baby.”

al-haitham has only ever known love twice in his life. one is gone but it lives through the other. the gentle touch against his scalp and the warmth under his cheek is familiar—it feels like the lap he slept on when he was six. it feels like the delicate hands that cupped his cheeks when he was eight. it feels like the soft kisses against his temple when he was ten.

al-haitham has only ever known love twice in his life, and he’s glad that one of them is you.

“you’d have loved her too,” his voice breaks. you kiss his head as you feel your shirt dampen.

“i already do,” you murmur, “she raised you well. i have her to thank.”

his breath hitches at that—and then he pulls you closer, grasps you tighter, falls in love with you harder. his grandmother’s death anniversary has always been a sore spot—but somehow, you numb the ache even if by just a little.

gently, your hand clasps his and pulls him to shore. he’s grateful he doesn’t have to drift alone anymore.

there is nothing i’m more obsessed with than al-haitham’s childhood. i have so many thought about it. and him. and his character. and his inner thoughts and feelings and most of them revolve around his grandmother and more importantly her passing. and idk. he’s just sosososo important to me i wish we knew more about his grandmother. i love her so much i grieve her passing even though we’ve never even met her 😭

[myysaints]

°˖ ⊹ ꒰ LS2 ꒱ FROM FRIENDS TO THIS ─ LOGAN SARGEANT

LOGAN SARGEANT x gf!childhood bff!reader

⌗︙・ summary — as best friends, you, logan, and oscar should know everything about each other. but you and logan are hiding a certain secret from oscar...

genre — fluff, socmed au, faceless reader

notes — in honour of logan earning his FIRST EVER POINTS in formula 1, here's a fluffy little socmed fic of childhood besties reader logan and oscar! i love logan and oscar's friendship, it's so so cute. hope u all enjoy xx

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yourusername    fun in the sun

view all 109,213 comments

logansargeant    Credits to the photographer?

yourusername    thank you logan….

oscarpiastri    ☀️

logansargeant    Gramps finally figured out how to use emojis? Never thought the day would come yourusername    everyone say great job grandpa! landonorris    Great job Grandpa logansargeant    Great job grandpa

user1    asdhsgadhgf not y/n fighting logan AND oscar in the comments 😭😭 best trio ever

user2    Sorry who is she? Does she work in F1? Why do so many drivers follow her

user3    she’s Y/N L/N, she’s childhood friends with oscar and logan

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logansargeant

Liked by yourusername, oscarpiastri, alex_albon, and 341,297 others

🏷    yourusername, oscarpiastri

logansargeant    Hell of a summer to remember

view all 162,910 comments

alex_albon    where was my invite??? :(

logansargeant    Lmk when you’re next in Florida mate

yourusername    my turn to say CREDITS TO THE PHOTOGRAPHER !!!

logansargeant    🙄 A little ‘please’ would be nice yourusername    but u don’t deserve nice logansargeant    Watch the attitude princess

oscarpiastri    Language.

yourusername    don’t act like you haven’t said worse, piastri logansargeant    Exactly, rich coming from someone who threw a temper tantrum when he lost monopoly oscarpiastri    I did NOT throw a tantrum… yourusername    i have pics of u sulking btw

user1    MY COMFORT TRIO

user2    anyone ship y/n and oscar? no? just me? okay

user3    Nah bro Oscar has a gf. But Logan and Y/N >>>> user4    they’ve known each other for forever i think if they had feelings for each other they would’ve gotten together by now 😭

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f1driversnwaggossip    Oscar Piastri spotted arriving in the UK, fresh off of a fulfilling summer trip with childhood friends Logan Sargeant and Y/N L/N 😊

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user1    aww, does that mean no more oscar-logan-y/n content 😭😭

user2    rip oscar’s summer vacay era, it was great while it lasted

user3    ughhhh im going to miss seeing the three of them together sm

user4    Fr like we probably aren’t going to see Y/N with any of them for a long time again 😭 Especially since she’s probably gonna be busy with school, she hardly ever attends GPs user5    y/n and logan seem to be fine having fun on their own lol just saying user4    Wdym? user5    check logan’s ig stories, i think he’s still hanging out with y/n

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YOU HAVE ONE (1) NEW MESSAGE

vroom vroom 1 🧡: Yk, you guys are not very good at keeping secrets the other one 📚🙇‍♀️: ??? vroom vroom 1 🧡: I know you guys are together my florida man <3: …We don’t know what youre talking about vroom vroom 1 🧡: … vroom vroom 1 🧡: Bro. my florida man <3: Bro the other one 📚🙇‍♀️: bro…? vroom vroom 1 🧡: Look I’m not mad im just vroom vroom 1 🧡: Sad you guys didn’t tell me sooner… the other one 📚🙇‍♀️: but theres nothing to tell you oscar 😀 vroom vroom 1 🧡:

my florida man <3: Mate you are so unserious vroom vroom 1 🧡: Currently crying in the sim, Lando’s looking at me weird vroom vroom 1 🧡: Fess up or I tell him the other one 📚🙇‍♀️: OKAY OKAY OH MY GOD OSCAR my florida man <3: Alright man no need to get violent my florida man <3: Let’s talk this out calmly my florida man <3: Like adults vroom vroom 1 🧡: Do adults go behind each other’s backs? vroom vroom 1 🧡: Do adults start relationships and not tell their best friend? vroom vroom 1 🧡: Do adults LIE and GASLIGHT their best friend? my florida man <3: … my florida man <3: Is it bad if i say yes vroom vroom 1 🧡: You’re meant to say no 😒 my florida man <3: Right right, sorry my florida man <3: No the other one 📚🙇‍♀️: okay oscar we get it 😭 the other one 📚🙇‍♀️: we’re sorry we lied the other one 📚🙇‍♀️: and we’re sorry we didn’t tell you sooner my florida man <3: And we’re sorry we said no when you kept asking my florida man <3: And actively pretended like nothing was happening my florida man <3: And went on numerous trips without you vroom vroom 1 🧡: Alright I forgive you guys. Not that i was actually mad, i just wanted to see you guys say it my florida man <3: And that we made out in your bed that one time during your Christmas party last year vroom vroom 1 🧡: You guys can stop apologising now vroom vroom 1 🧡: . vroom vroom 1 🧡: WAIT WHAT

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[jjungxkook]

blackout | jjk

⇥ pairing: roommate!jungkook x reader

⇥ genre: best friends to lovers, roommate and college au, fluff, crack, smut

⇥ rating: 18+

⇥ warnings: swearing, he’s just a bit of a fuckboy, bickering, swooning over/thirsting for jk (🤷‍♀️), a manually induced fake blackout? dunno those 2 are odd k, they play uno, a lot of spending time in the darkness, kook has no chill, teasing, consent, dirty talk, fingering, cmnf for a while, sexual tension, oral (both receiving), shower sex, choking, hair pulling, reader cries a bit, jk likes to praise, dry humping?, pussy and tits slapping rip (and some ass ig), making out🙄, manhandling, jk loves her tits and ass and plays with them (a lot), he’s sweet but cocky too, protected sex, dom + big dick kook

⇥ wc: 14.3k

⇥ author’s notes: this is a repost from my old blog!! i may repent for my sins. also i do not know why this is so long, i thought it would be 10k rip please i apologize. anyways, i really hope you like it!! i’m very stoked to find out what you think😶‍🌫️

⇥ summary: Utility bills shooting up like this should be an international crime. Luckily, Jungkook has the perfect idea(s) to save up money and make your night sinfully unforgettable.

–

pt1 || pt2 || pt3

–

The hardness of the bench is tiring out your ass.

It’s incredible to you what tribulations you’re ready to burn through just to keep your best friend happy and satisfied. The blazing noon sun is steaming your scalp, even though in the middle of fall, it really shouldn’t.

Fingers wrapped around the edge of your seat, you lean forward and squint your eyes. You make out the energized individual running across the field immediately. Nevermind that he promised you football but you got soccer instead.

You wouldn’t dare to complain, though. In the summer heat, lopsided beams and big, dark puppy eyes refresh you like the late night Tequila Sunrises you love so much.

“Are you playing or taking a walk?” You yell from where you watch. Childish howling and woahhhhs echo across the field, fists pressed against round mouths and eyebrows skyrocketing.

They strive off anyone’s praises, really, but your unfaltering coaching pushes them forward a good, humongous step. In fact, you only recognize about a handful of the players, though there aren’t that many anyway.

No one running around down there cares much about authentic formations. The game usually played with eleven screaming, pumped members on each side only consists of four per team today.

It’s entertaining: The constant curses that always evolve into dramatic compliments, the loud and ambitious handshakes when they score, and the testosterone dissolving in the air, but only after the scent has wafted straight into your nostrils.

And the verbal invitations Jungkook hands out to you every week with pouting lips might play a role, too, yeah. He doesn’t like to make you wait like he does right now, but he doesn’t necessarily enjoy distance from you much, either.

A buff man in his mid-twenties, attractive beyond Greek gods’ appearance, highly determined and ready to indulge in new hobbies – relies on you, even after years of independence.

Seeing you watch and cheer him on boosts his already steadfast ego, and he’s never failed to let you know that, “It feels different from when other girls scream my name.”

You wish you could take it as a compliment, but the consistent ambiguity in his (bitter)sweet words fatigues your heart. The beat of it is not so consistent.

The crush has been omnipresent since you learned the first steps of stupid algebra, but lately, something in your lower belly has shifted weirdly, too.

Today, the shift shows in the way you clench the edge of your seat.

You hear the boys announce the end of their groundbreaking, world changing match, though you can’t recall who won, and observe the languid steps Jungkook takes toward the bench.

Energy slowly dwindling, he puffs out a deep breath, unaware that something inside you dies when he throws back the damp hair. His white, sleeveless shirt is sticking to his broad, firm chest – the refined pecs, abs and bare arms might not have triggered your embarrassing drooling if the last weeks hadn’t changed your perception of him.

There are, for instance, the filth-riddled noises when he’s fucking one of his occasional flings to the moon. Or how those exact same groans of his repeat when he heaves something that perhaps does not even require this low ass growl.

The sounds when he’s repairing something at your place or stretching after waking up. How you wish you could add to those sounds by delivering your very own, unique version of the female moans you usually hear from his room.

You could blame it on sex deprivation, or you could blame the outrageous line of his jaw, but you think the walls of your pussy have deformed and become dick-shaped. Welcoming a certain something that's definitely better than your beloved toys, according to the sounds at least.

This yearning feels kind of weird.

Jungkook has stopped not too far from you. He lifts his inked, veiny hand to wave and then reaches for his bottle to hydrate. And hydrating he does – in a way so alluring that you think he’s doing it on purpose.

Flashing the jawline of nightmares, he cuts you from afar. Sharp, more hazardous than in his teenage years. A phenomenal bone structure, accentuated by the shine of the tiny sweat drops. Shimmering golden skin.

When he drinks, you see his Adam’s apple bop even from here. His bicep is hard, bangs falling into his eyes, and his pink lips wrap around the bottle so prettily…

Thirst.

You and he both know how it feels.

Your mouth shuts close before he can notice. Instead you cup your hands around your mouth and call out to him.

“You do know we have an appointment today, right?”

“Your dick appointments can wait,” he yells back. When you roll your eyes to the back of your head, mumbling gross, the dork chuckles. “I’ll be done in a sec.”

He wraps stuff up, running back to his friends, and claps his hands before giving everyone a last handshake-bro-five-mix. The fondness you feel watching his social side bloom is blissful torture.

Jungkook grew up as a timid caterpillar, shying away from crowds and public gatherings. Opening up took a while, so you can’t remember when he went through the process of metamorphosis to come out prettier than a Cramer’s Blue Morpho butterfly.

He's still somewhat introverted, but doesn't back away from parties anymore. Red cups fill with intoxication. Bodies sashay past him, some toward him to fall into his grip.

You don’t want to be envious – so you’re proud instead. You enjoy when he’s liked by someone, love how the others grin at him. A likable and soft person like him taking over hearts left and right either platonically or not is kind of attractive to you.

“I’ll wash up,” his voice declares when he’s standing next to you. “And then we go.”

“Aren’t you gonna take a proper shower?”

“Yeah, later tonight. College showers are gross.”

Your conversations are a constant repetition. The way you act around each other, your gazes and your actions were bound to become a routine – if not during your time growing up together, then certainly when you began searching for a place to share.

So his response doesn’t surprise you. Neither does the further waiting on the bleachers, pulling in your knees, draping your arms around them to press your cheek against them. Daydreaming and watching or listening boy after boy leave the field.

Despite the familiarity of everything, you still feel different these days.

–

“After last time, I feel like you’re asking for too much.”

The man, not exactly happy about missing a live match of tennis but not quite grumpy today either, leans against the frame of his door. White, wet tresses peek through his dark mane, an indicator he just showered to enjoy the calm day you interrupted.

Jungkook’s hair was as wet as his when you left the bleachers too, now fully dry as you stand in your old but cozy building.

How could it not be?

Considering the dozen stops between campus and your home, you could possibly dry an entire laundry in that time. Both of you are at fault, though – one of the million things you’re good at doing together is wasting money on stuff you might not necessarily need.

Convenience store, pharmacy and a flower shop to buy yet another succulent for your room. Jungkook pouted and frowned at you for the entirety of the convenience store visit when you told him the landlord thing wasn’t an appointment per se, but that he knew as well as you that you needed to sort things out.

Things being the impossible utility bills that keep you up at night. Things being both your stupidity to still halt in front of shops to acquire things like parsley and cheese.

Remembering just this idiocy and looking at the power your landlord’s eyes hold, you’d rather look at Jungkook than him.

At the shiny hair tips hanging into your friend’s eyes. The oversized gray shirt that could potentially hide the body he sports underneath, but his fingers are holding the strap of his rucksack, and the pull at his shirt is enough to make the lines of his chest visible.

But this afternoon is not about brooding over the edges of his torso. It’s about confronting a landlord who fortunately didn’t meet you in a hazardous mood despite his firm plans for tonight. He doesn’t complain about the weather today or seem elated because he found yet another new hobby, like he usually does.

He looks almost neutral, you think. You can’t read him, actually.

“Yes,” you confirm, exchanging a look with Jungkook. “It does sound like a lot, but you know you can count on us–”

“Dunno. You don’t seem to remember last time.”

The taunting tone riles you up, but the numbers on your bills haunt you enough to keep your calm. This is no time for an argument.

You take a breath and shoot another glance at Jungkook. His eyes are tremendously big and lips pressed together to an innocent, uplifting smile. He seems to sense your irritation, too.

“We do,” you confirm. “But c'mon, that's not fair. We’d just started living on our own back then. You know, no guardians to take care of us and all, so it was bound to happen.”

Not just that. The reason why you asked for postponing rent payment was because the two of you had been too eager and too stubborn to ask anyone for money. Ending up only providing half of the rent for almost three months wasn’t something you did on purpose.

But while you should’ve been more cautious, to some degree, it wasn’t entirely your fault. You had more college debt than you could afford only half a year after moving to this apartment, and Jungkook’s earnings weren’t close to what you needed.

“I really don’t know.” Yeah. The man’s doubts are kind of valid.

“C’mon… You know us, Mister Choi,” Jungkook tries this time.

“That’s why–”

“You can…” You suddenly interrupt, only noticing how things might backfire once you’ve already said them. “You could end our lease if we don’t pay you what we owe you this time.”

You think you can quite literally hear Jungkook’s heart stop next to you. At least that’s what his wide eyed, confused stare suggests when he moves his head to you. He’s voicing something in silent hesitation, but Choi most likely doesn’t notice.

Because before Jungkook can throw in his own–probably very unsure–two cents, hand coming up, the landlord sighs. He shrugs his shoulders, mumbling your last names, contemplates for a second longer and then… Agrees.

“Okay,” he says with a not-my-problem-nod. “That’s an idea I can work with. This month’s and at least half of next month’s by the end of the upcoming month, alright?”

You hate the constant repetition of the frightening word month, but on the inside you still jump and clap in joy. Both your and Jungkook’s expressions light up, your feet shifting as though you’re about to jump Choi and tackle-hug him to the ground.

Instead, you only gasp, clearing your throat and cheer, “This is! More than we expected! Thank you so much. Thank you for real for real, seriously, wearesosuperth–”

A palm stops the fast flow of your gratitude, and he only shakes his head and bids you goodbye with a thumbs up before he disappears behind his door. You think you see a fond smile, but your happiness might just be inducing pictures.

But who cares anyway?

Phase One of Saving Money turned out successful.

–

Once you enter your humble apartment, tension releases out of your mouth with your sigh. You slip your bag off your shoulder and into the corner next to the entrance, shoulders dropping. Every second with the landlord took a year from your lifespan.

Jungkook, always happy-go-lucky, isn’t as demotivated and grumpy as you. His steps carry him to your kitchen without a second thought, immediately scavenging the small space for an easy meal.

“What do we do now?” You whine, leaning against the dining table.

The sun is still up and it will remain hanging in the azure blue sky for a few more hours. But you dread the darkness that will descend after – not because it scares you, but because it means you’ll have to light up rooms for ideal navigation.

But lighting them up means raising the numbers on your electricity bill.

Jungkook, however, doesn’t pay much mind to your shattering financial situation right now. He’s humming at the pots and seasoning he’s scattered around on the counter, calm as ever, because worrying about something he can’t change right now is not something he likes to do.

“First, we eat. Am starving,” he decides.

A slight shake of your head suggests frustration, but the grumble of your stomach agrees with him as though to remind you of feeding it. He side eyes you and smirks. “I’m not doing or talking about shit until you’ve eaten something.”

Of course. Caretaker first, friend second. If you’re not on the receiving end, you’re the one giving.

You push your butt off the dining table and choose to introduce Phase Two of your mission, telling him, “I think we’ve candles somewhere.”

The conversation changes at once when you release your suggestion into the air. Although you might argue you’re still stuck on the same issue, given the intention that lies behind your idea.

“Are we– Ouija board stu– again?” You hear Jungkook call from the kitchen, every other word chopped off and eaten by the sounds of pots and dishes.

“I’m not ever doing that with you again,” you exclaim back.

“Huh? Why not?”

“You were moving the planchette!”

Granted, there was kindness in his cheating. The evening drained you out of energy and left you a nervous mess, eager to speak to your favorite late grandaunty and her deceased dog. Neither Jungkook nor you believed in the magic behind the practice, but he made sure to soothe your nerves anyway.

You were pissed when you noticed what was going on – but once the anger subsided and gave way to the realization that he really cared, you fell asleep with a smile after all.

“I swear on my favorite hoodie that I didn’t,” he defends.

“Lying son of a bitch,” you whisper, laughing to yourself as you kneel in front of a cupboard storing a few dozen candles and other shenanigans.

You choose one scented, thick one for each room, and then a few smaller, regular ones that you think must do. With a handful of them, you return to the still bright living room, placing each one where you want it later tonight.

You’re serious about your candles – the tongue poking out, eyes squinting in concentration kind of serious. Arranged in a rational way, you beam at your artwork, impressed by your own idea as if it’s not something human beings used to do all the time.

“Seriously, you’re so easy to excite,” Jungkook always reiterates.

Once you join him in the kitchen, preparing not only a meal but spontaneously baking a treat too, time passes significantly faster. In hindsight, you didn’t do that much today, but somehow it still feels like you sailed the world.

You barely realize when several topics have shifted and the sun has disappeared. The moon hangs bright in the dark sky, the brisk gust blowing in through the open windows. It was a pleasant day of the week, even though you kept freezing at his touch even while cooking, and you’re ready to finish it just as lovely.

Only, it doesn’t end at dinner and the day’s exhaustion.

“Dessert tastes better in bed,” Jungkook tells you once you’ve done the dishes and cleaned the kitchen. Since tidying up, you’ve suddenly become quieter than before and his eyes squint like they’re testing you.

“Okay? Then go and take it with you.”

“And you?”

“What about me?”

He shrugs his shoulders, blowing a raspberry. “You’ll go and sleep already?”

“No, but…” You hum and think. It’s not that late just yet – and you don’t feel like tackling homework or any other taxing task tonight. “I do wanna eat dessert, too. Just thought we might chill in the living room.”

“I mean. Take it as an informal invitation to spend some time with me, but in my room. You don’t wanna?”

“Pervert,” you lightly hit his shoulder with a cloth when he winks. “Is that how you court other ladies?”

“Why, yes. What did you think?” He laughs when you shake your head dramatically, pulling your shirt back and further over your clavicles. “Nah, I was thinking of… Just chilling, really.”

It’s not the first time you’re joking in a way like this. It’d also not be the first time of you hanging out with him in his room, on his bed, giggling about stupid jokes or ridiculous cartoons. Or whatever.

But it’s one of the first times the thought renders you nervous. Like you’re perceiving him as more than your best friend just now, after all those years of harmless platonic cuddles.

When you don’t answer, he delivers another decisive argument. “My room is smaller. Less candles. More to spare for the next time!”

You’re not surprised that he sees through your little idea – rather baffled how easy it is for him to sway you. So you follow him to his minimalistically organized room, not one but two diffusers on his desk. The corner of your lips twitches.

The more you near his bed, the more your heart strikes. His mattress is soft and cozy, and Jungkook’s scent oozes from every inch of it. You feel engulfed in his presence so bad that the emotions of this noon and the last few weeks hit you like a brick.

“Wanna watch something, Pumpkin?” Jungkook asks once you’re draped in the comfort of his duvet.

He might never stop calling you that. Probably hasn’t let a day pass since elementary school when your mom and you decided to dress you as a damn pumpkin for Halloween.

“And waste precious battery life?” You scold with a cocked eyebrow. Your voice is quieter now that you’re cuddled in with him, but you try to maintain your cool.

Turning on the living room TV or light is out of the question anyway. No regular Thursday movie night this time. Blasting Disney’s version of The Sorcerer’s Apprentice for the hundredth time can wait.

With the no-technology-rule you established today, even unplugged devices shall remain for emergencies as long as possible.

“So we’ll act like it’s a full blown blackout, yeah?” He asks before he leans over you, pulling open the second drawer of his bedside cabinet to rummage through its content.

The small action forces your body backward, pushing you against the headboard so tight that your lungs fail. He looks unsuspecting, drenched in the warm light of the candles. You breathe him in unintentionally, and he smells of soap and cologne.

Wrapped in darkness next to him is already strange as it is, but it cannot compare to the oddness of how new his proximity feels.

You barely notice what he’s fished out until he waves it right in front of your frozen expression. An old deck of Uno greets your vision, the packaging as worn out as the cards that he pulls out.

He places them on his large palm before he begins shuffling them – staring at the smoothness he operates with makes you almost miss what he asks.

“Is that good enough, then?”

“Mhm.”

“Cool,” he holds the cards to your face once more. “Are we playing with seven or ten cards?”

“Take it up a notch,” your feeble voice allows. “Make it fifteen just for funsies.”

“Why did I know you’d say that?”

You shrug your shoulders, imperceptibly shifting away from the touch of his arms and hips. “Remember one thing, Jeon.”

“Yeh, yeh,” he taunts, his voice strained. He sounds as though his body is beseeching him to lay down and drift off – but something about the moment seems to be keeping him soberly awake. “I won’t let you win this time.”

Fifteen cards down on your lap, you lift your hands from under the blanket, pulling your set close to your face in utter distrust. You cock an eyebrow at the universe’s choice: Jungkook has either already broken his promise, or the gaming Gods have decided this round’s end already.

With the victory residing in your hands, his vow pretty much slips your mind immediately; it blends out how he still remembers your middle school matches. He really still recalls when you’d fume and burn – disappointed and livid when he’d reveal his picture-perfect deck, unused to accept defeat.

The game doesn’t even properly progress when the first argument of the night pops up. More than half your cards are still in your hands, both your words overlapping.

“Once you lay down a 4+ or color card, you’re not allowed to play again. It’s my turn,” you insist, his wrist in your firm grip as if he couldn’t break out of it whenever.

“I am allowed to play, though.” When he swings his hand, yours moves with him. Both your stances are upright, eyes blown wide and comically riled up. “Especially after a 4+. You're blocked.”

“This doesn’t sound right.”

“Look.” He slaps his cards with the logo upwards into his lap, sifting through the rest of the deck to draw out a yellow stop card. “Would you be able to play on if I hit you with that?”

“No, ‘course not.”

“And 4+ cards work the same way.”

You keep staring at the bright color, lost in thoughts and traveling back to a time when the world around you hadn’t altered every rule of every game you knew. But when no productive result flashes through your mind, you suggest something else.

“Google it, then.”

“You can’t just read the rules? Hold up,” he pulls out the instructions from the package, already fiddling with the paper. “I bet the answer is hidden somewhere in there.”

“Have fun. I can’t read in this darkness for shit.”

Relying on technology for a minute shouldn’t cause a cataclysmic event, so you type in the million dollar question plaguing both your mind, soon striking it rich when a video materializes on the page.

Too lazy to skim yet another amateur post, you decide to trust WikiHow’s explanation clip, hoping for a fruitful result. Jungkook soon gives up the task he bestowed upon himself, cuddling closer to your misery to watch with you.

“Are we serious?” He breathes, laughing off the peculiarity of the moment.

“Watching a video on Uno rules?” You ask, giggling in unison with him. “I fucking know. We’re seriously weird.”

“How long’s it been since we played games together like that?”

You can’t say for sure.

“When we got this place,” you assume. “Didn’t we spend half the night going through board and card games? Because–”

“Because there was nothing else to do. We were sitting on the ground on some shit ass mattress.”

You laugh. It’s been a while – time truly does pass when you’re stuck with someone. You don’t think you’d ever trade the memories you gathered here for anything good in the world. Piggyback rides and cooking mishaps are a delight to store in the depths of memory.

Or moments when you very clearly, very softly realize that you’re falling for your roommate bit by bit; so much deeper than when you were still kids. For him and his touch. His sensuality, even when it’s unintentional.

Like now.

Jungkook grabs his water bottle from his side of the bed as the voice of the narrator chimes. The background is a bright green and the animation weirdly cute, but you blend it out when he reminds you of the plushness of his lips again. Wrapped around the bottle head…

When you reach the wild card moment, both of your ears perk up before you erupt in simultaneous chaos. Jungkook half chokes as he attempts his one-syllable-argument.

“See!” He exclaims.

“See what? He said, if the player can’t play any of their cards, blah blah... Which, in our case, is me.”

“No, but what player? The one who had the wild card? Or the other?”

“Fuck it,” you curse, clicking away without finishing the last minute. “Another video. WikiHow sucks.”

“Why do I feel like we’re both right and wrong?”

You shake your head in defense and with a furrow between your eyebrows, but the dorky grin on his face pulls out your true, playful emotions in the form of a laugh.

The next clip you settle on goes on for longer, seemingly endless – allowing you enough time to peek at the smooth curves of his silhouette.

His lips are jutted and the moving pictures reflect in his eyes. His button nose begs to be booped. A small dimple appears when the tip of his tongue pushes through the seam of his lips to hydrate them.

You don’t think you’re as subtle as you’d like to be, though. Because soon, he’s looking up, causing a sudden flinch. “What’s up?”

“Nothing.”

He blinks at you slowly, one eyebrow briefly twitching. “Oh. Are you bored?”

“No! Why?”

“Are you okay, then?” Your tongue flits along the inside of your cheek, muscles stiffer than before. He eyes you up and down. “You’re so tense.”

“It’s just… Just weird,” you stutter. Hesitancy breaks the flow of your usually confident speech, and you flick your inner self’s forehead for the obvious awkwardness. “Sitting in the dark.”

What?

What the fuck.

You need to get yourself together and come up with a wittier response. If he just let you – because he prods, “Are you scared?”

“Wha– Do I look scared?”

“You don’t look normal, at least.”

“That’s rude,” you scold, letting the device fall onto the blanket. Numerous wrinkles decorate your forehead, hiding your true thoughts behind frisky surface-annoyance.

His next words do not freaking help.

“Girls usually like me in the dark.”

“That’s…” Heat of an exploding star warms your already blistering cheeks. “That’s pretty lewd of you to say. And unnecessary, too.”

You’re pouting like it’s the first day of sex ed. Innocence expands your pupils harder than the lack of light in this room. Jungkook can’t help it – fondness engulfs his heart. You’ve always been endearing to an immeasurable degree.

“You’re so cute,” he drops casually. He’s amused by the side eye you give him, laughing when you exhale and rub the sweat off your hands on the blanket. “But seriously, what’s up with you today?”

He nudges your shoulder as a joke, and you hate that years of friendship couldn’t prepare you for a dark, emotion-altering night like this. Hormones and an adult’s desires are the devil’s advocate as much as Jungkook is himself.

“Nothing!”

“Have I done something weird?”

“You’re always weird.”

His shocked gasp dramatizes the moment, lifting the tension in the air enough to overshadow your inept breathing. Any attempt to keep your chill could turn out futile any moment now.

“Fair,” he laughs. “But also rude.”

His soft palm sets upon your knee and the plea you utter to your mind to calm your nerves falls on deaf ears. At his touch, you flinch just a fraction… And immediately, he pauses.

His gaze skyrockets to your seemingly sinless one. Lips part in confusion before his expression changes – like a bulb has lit up in his mind.

And then, the biggest change in topic occurs.

“Could you give me my phone charger?” Lifting his device, he lights up the screen to show the red, drained battery bar. He points to the bedside cabinet again. “First drawer.”

Right.

Jungkook doesn’t keep his charger plugged in at all times like you do. Scared it might burn off. You didn’t expect less when you decided to move in with your best friend, though: Not from the boy who declared his fear of microwaves and their potential to melt dishes ages ago.

You open and hunt through the drawer, surprised at the half emptiness of it until your fingers graze something you might not have anticipated. And then you realize…

Ah. Oh.

What if…

Perhaps that was the plan all along. Because when you look back at him, he doesn’t seem fazed in the slightest. The calmness in his eyes is telling enough to guess his intentions – but you don’t want to assume for sure yet.

Your touch remains on the little–open–box for a second, one sealed package peeking out. An absolutely fresh condom… One of Jungkook’s no less.

What’s happening today?

“What’s up?” He asks, and you almost huff at the stupid, fabricated innocence in his stupid, soothing voice.

“I think,” you lean back, attempting a laugh. “I just found your most prized possession.”

“Ah?” He waits, and you nod. “Is that weird to you?” A nonchalant shrug of your shoulders spurs him on, the tilt of his head perilous. “It’s not the first time you’re seeing those, right?”

Ugh, yeah. You remember all casual visits to drugstores. The vivid image of Durex’ extra large Excite Me, and true to Jungkook’s dedication dotted for extra stimulation.

He usually cares as much about embarrassment between the both of you as you do when you place pads and tampons between his stuff. Why is it weird, then?

“Yeah. It’s just…” You’re stumbling for words. Fuck. It’s over for you. “Reminds me of some of your escapades lately.”

Jungkook hums. “Mhm. There weren’t that many these days, though.”

“I know. Just made me think of those that did happen, y’know?”

“Okay.” He’s still looking at you like he’s solved every piece of the riddle you are tonight. Not any less shameless, though. “Then… What exactly is it that you’re thinking about those escapades?” Huh… There are too many details you’d need to omit in your answer. But the way his stare is stabbing questions into you as if he already knows what you might say?

Yep. You’re fucked.

“Now?” You ask.

“Right now.”

“Nothing.”

God, even he must be bored of the constant repetition. What does nothing still mean in reality? Everything. That’s how your inner translator interprets it, at least.

This time, Jungkook doesn’t let your response slip. His hand, however, does. Up from your knee… Right to your thigh.

The blanket still lays in between, its fabric pivotal for the moment. If it wasn’t there, you might faint. And something in you says that the experience isn’t far.

“Is that what it is?” Jungkook whispers. His voice is deeper now, and so is your sigh. “That must be what it is.”

“Hm?”

“You’ve been tense ‘cause of that? Since soccer training you’ve been looking at me like I’m suffocating you.” Shit. Of course he’d notice. “And now you suddenly feel weird about being close and about condoms? Do you just…” He digs his index finger into your thigh, his cut nail raking your leg with too many layers in between. “Just miss being touched?”

“By… By you?”

“No, Pumpkin. In general.” You don’t have an answer to his quizzing. Or, you do, but you don’t know where it might lead… Nervousness clogs your throat. “Don’t you…”

“What?” You think you can foresee what he’s going to ask, but you put on a curious act anyway. Then, he drops the bomb.

“Don’t you touch yourself?”

Oh God. Someone tell him to shut up. The little workers in your brain are setting your internal office on fire, handling his lax conversation worse than you.

“I’m…” You pause to breathe in shakily, and then laugh to hide your bewilderment. “Of course I do. Everyone does.” You clear your throat. “That’s a really freaking weird and sudden question, though.”

“Not that weird considering how you’ve been acting today. Thought it’s PMS, but you just called in sick ‘cause of your period last week.” Damn, Sherlock. Of course he’d remember – your whining wasn’t subtle after all. And he was the one serving you every meal all day. “So I’m guessing… It’s been a while and things are just worse tonight?”

“Dunno.”

You’re blinking at him. He’s built a Chinese-Wall-strong barrier at the front of his mind, and you can’t peek through it to understand what he’s thinking. Or what he wants. What he wants you to say or want.

It’s incredibly suspicious to you… And kind of tempting.

“Not gonna lie,” Jungkook’s voice drops to a low whisper, his confession worse than you expected. “I think I heard you a few nights before.”

You rip your eyes open in surprise. Your heart runs up to your throat to start hammering against your vocal cords, and for a few syllables, you can’t do much other than stutter and gasp.

“You fucking creep!” You then blurt out, calling yourself a hypocrite internally in the same breath. It’s not like you listened away during his adventures, legs pressed together to create friction.

“I’m sorry,” he lifts his hands in defense. “But you weren’t exactly being quiet. Plus, our walls aren’t that thin.”

You know… Hell, you know.

But how is he initiating the conversation just like that? God, the absolute courage…

“Fuck, Jungkook,” you curse. You bring your fingers to your eyes, rubbing them rather than hiding your entire face. “That’s fucking embarrassing.”

But Jungkook softly brings your hand down again – then speaks to reassure you. Only, anything he says tonight makes matters worse.

“Would it help if I told you it wasn’t embarrassing for me?”

“What the hell’s that supposed to mean?”

“It just sounded…”

He procrastinates, his expressions calm but his eyes dangerous. Hooded.

“Bad?” You dig.

“No. It sounded hot.”

No. No, your heart and body can’t handle this. You might die if you don’t push his admissions into the most disbelieving corner of your brain.

Jungkook finds you hot? The sounds you couldn’t hide, he likes them? He means it?

“Shut the fuck up, I’m–” You begin, but he replaces your rebukes with a deep inhale and stiff muscles when he moves closer.

Your back presses against the bedside cabinet. Now that the flickering candle is melting down, its light is getting dimmer and the room darker. Bright enough to still make out his silhouette and most alluring features.

The phone has long fallen from between your fingers, hiding in the blanket and the video long over. Somehow, you’re glad you disabled autoplay – it doesn’t disturb the moment that’s clearly progressing to something dangerous.

But at the same time, you’re surprised as hell. Asking yourself silently over and over again, whatsgoingonwhatsgoingon.

“What are you doing?” You whisper.

“I’m just wondering.” His body is tilted, one hand still on your thigh. “When you do stuff to yourself… Is there something specific you think of?”

You shift a little, not answering. When he sees the surprise in your eyes and confuses it with fear, however, he backs away again and clicks his tongue. “My bad. Sorry for being like that.”

But you’re not letting him retreat now… Things have come too far. You place a hand on his arm and tug him closer subtly. His already big eyes look humongous now, positively delighted, even when you keep struggling with words.

“No, I just…” You try but fail as soon as you start.

“Why are you stuttering like that? That’s not you.”

You wish he was wrong. You’re more confident than this in any other moment. Crazy what one Jeon Jungkook’s touch can do.

You swallow hard, delivering a mental slap before pieces of your courage resurface again.

“This is new to me,” you tell him.

“What is?”

“The way we’re talking to each other. It’s not nothing…” You look down to seek the emoji on his middle finger, barely recognizable in the darkness. “And you’re… You’re good looking, Jungkook.”

“Yeah,” he agrees cockily, but you know his humility enough to understand he doesn’t mean it. Those are shameless teases, nothing more. “And?”

“You’ve always been good looking. And on top of that, I can always hear how you sound when you…”

Should you really go there? What if it damages something? Then again, it’s too late now anyway.

“When I…?” He tries.

“I kinda don’t wanna say it, and I know you know what I mean.”

“Ah, right,” Jungkook casually confirms, like he’s just realized what you might be pointing at. “When I fuck someone’s brain out.”

You suck in a breath.

“Don’t say it like that!”

“How do you want me to say it?” Jungkook taps his chin with his finger. He looks like a sly anime college crush. “I kindly empty their thoughts.”

“Shut up.”

“And rearrange their guts–”

“Oh my God, I’ll–”

Do what? Your own guts are pleading for a good, nasty and disrespectful mess. Wobbly pudding on his bed, your body is already melting at the mere thought… So you can’t imagine what actual ferity could do if he unleashed it.

Unknowing what to say, you look away, moving back like a proper idiot. But suddenly, pressure wraps around your wrist, fingers pulling you into him. You look at him speechlessly, parting your lips when he looks down at them.

“Is there something you want me to do?” He asks.

There’s a myriad of things you want him to do. But there’s slight doubt knocking against the walls of your brain and – ugh…

“Is it okay for us to do such a thing?” You question back.

“I don’t know,” he confesses quietly, his breath pleasant against your lips. “Say no just once and I promise I’ll back away.”

“And… And if I don’t?”

“Answer first.” He tilts his head, big eyes too pure and sweet for the conversation going on. “Or… Well, don’t.”

You remain silent. Hot blood turns your face as warm as a grill, and you look at him and his smile. Your heart rebels in your throat, but your thoughts are sober. So once he sees the clearness in your stare, he understands.

“Alright.”

It’s the last word he whispers before his hand wanders up your pajama pants. He fiddles with the neat knot holding your pajama around your waist, playing with it for a moment until patience runs out.

Soft fingertips tug at the end of the strings until the hem of the pants loosens around you. His eyes shoot up to yours, hiding menacingly behind his bangs. You don’t know what for–perhaps for permission–but you nod.

“Can you lift a bit for me?” His voice is soothing, calm and lovely when he utters his demand as a question. If you listen closely, you hear the desire, though.

You raise your ass, letting him slip the pajama down your thighs. When your body presses back into the mattress, your hands move to his face, making him look at you. The front of his tongue darts out, trapped between his teeth and his eyes are dark and starry. Lost in you.

His teeth let his tongue go, sliding it across his lower lip… Goddammit, you want to taste it.

When he skims over your panties and now bare thighs, your eyes blink close. He watches and adores your reaction; skims your dampness below. Jungkook acts as fuel, even though you’re already incredibly flammable.

The hums that accompany your slight wiggle are gentle, contrasting the losing of your mind going on in your head.

“More?” He wants to know.

“Mhmmm.”

“Okay. Good, Pumpkin.”

You’d smile at the ridiculous childhood endearment if the moment wasn’t so sinful. If he wasn’t grazing your pelvis, causing goosebump as he goes, pulling at the thin fabric until you lift once again.

He chuckles, a sound that reaches deep within your chest. “Good girl. Learning fast.”

Is he serious?

He can’t just drop a good girl like that as if he’s announcing a brief walk through a nearby park. What the fuck.

“Stop it,” you mutter, unaware why exactly.

“Want me to stop? We’re just starting,” he chants, his pout playfully childish and cute.

But the fingers. Oh the fingers rounding the skin right over the sensitive nub. Playing with you like you’re his own personal doll, wrapping you around his skillful, strong and incredibly beautiful fingers.

His touch drops deeper when you whisper an inaudible wish; whatever it is, he thinks he knows what you want. Featherlightly, he presses down on your clit, and you cry out quietly.

You fall back against the headboard again, your hands in his hair and tugging at the strands at the nape of his neck. One blink of his eyes passes and he’s snaking an arm under you, pulling you down and flat onto your back.

“You alright, yeah?” Jungkook makes sure, elated when you nod enthusiastically. “Good. Very good.”

His face is close to yours but doesn’t remain there: As he caresses your clit, shaking up your lower belly, his mouth dives in and finds home between your tits. He breathes you in before he presses a kiss against the shirt hiding your skin.

“Jungkook…”

“Mmmh.” He looks up at your chin, your head thrown back. “Say, Pumpkin…” He blows at your left nipple, well aware that you never wear a bra at home, and watches it perk under the shirt. Then, his teeth catch the material before he lets go and speaks on. “May I see those pretty tits of yours?”

“Nnnh,” is all you can give back. “Yes.”

Happily, the unoccupied hand lifts the white tee until he touches the underside of your boobs; his touch covers something you reckon he might enjoy. With his face hovering over yours, you wonder how long it will take him to notice.

Nothing yet at least.

His hand pauses there and then lifts the shirt over your mounds. He palms one of them, relishing your mewls. The sigh lets his voice fall some more, enticing when his mind numbing talk continues, “Hello there, girls.”

Jesus fucking Christ…

Why is this so hot to you?

His hair tickles your clavicles before his tongue does the same to your hard nubs. Wrapping his lips around your nipple, he pulls at it, then releases it to repeat it all. All while his fingers float down to your hole.

And then…

Palms pushing your thighs apart under the crumbled up blanket, he doesn’t wait another second before he drops to his side next to you and dips his middle finger inside. Slowly at first, easing you into the process, but it does nothing to avoid the sudden term that falls out of you.

“Fuck, baby, this is–”

You realize your mistake–mistake?–when his finger halts mid action. But once he proceeds, lifting his head to kiss your jaw, you don’t see a single trace of embarrassment or shame. No, he rather jumps onto the train with you.

“Easy, kitten.”

The new nickname forces your head to fall sideways to face him – your lips come to touch, but he doesn’t take it a step further. His eyelids fall half close, mouth not moving against yours; but you can’t really kiss anyway with the way he urges moan after moan out of you.

His finger starts pumping in and out of you, your walls contracting around him. There’s thought in his actions. He doesn’t just push in and pull out like a wildling – no, the curve of his digit, the tempo he chooses and the patch he massages inside you must be calculated.

Adding a second finger does nothing but amplify this feeling.

In his hold, you’re a little less squirmy than you might be without his touch. He keeps you grounded, controlling the wiggle of your body, allowing you to bite into your fist until he grabs your wrist and pushes it against the mattress.

“Nuh-uh,” he warns. Your eyes crack open a slit. “Stop muffling your sounds. Why would you?”

“I’m just…” You shake your head. “Self-conscious… Okay?” God, words are hard. “Y’don’t see me naked… Every day.”

“Absolutely outrageous if you ask me,” he breathes, knuckles deep inside you. There, he remains, merely moving his fingers inside without pulling out anymore. You hide half your face in the pillow. “Fuck, look at me.”

The danger and irritation in his voice sober up a piece of your mind, but the sudden emptiness when his fingers vanish shake you awake with a snap. An utterly wet touch trails along your thigh and then up your sides. He doesn’t give a fuck about the state of his blanket.

Letting go of your wrist, he pushes aside the fallen phone that his ass touches, and stops with everything altogether. Reaches behind him and then shoves the device to a far top corner of the bed.

“That’s good,” Jungkook whispers once he’s cozy with you again. Watching your breathing, dizzy form. “We don’t have to charge the phone and waste electricity that way, right?”

“Shut up…” is all your brain and tongue allow.

He clicks his tongue. “Alright, you killjoy.” A sudden slap to your overflowing pussy renders you speechless. But not him. “I’ll use my mouth elsewhere then, k?”

You’re still a mess in disbelief. Can’t comprehend that he’s actually saying those words in this exact constellation. You might think you’re dreaming if the squeezes of his hands and the dampness of his tongue didn’t prove you otherwise.

Crawling down your body, he makes sure to ruin every patch of your skin. He licks along your collarbones and gently bites at your tits. His palms love the feeling of your chest, nails digging in… And he only stops when he reaches a very particular something.

You feel his movements freeze clearly. He smacks his lips, and when you look at him, he looks surprised. Delightfully so.

“What’s that?”

There it is.

He watches your lips curl to a satisfied smile and your eyelids shut as he brushes his finger over the spot under your tits. Squinting, he removes more of the blanket, hoping the dim light of the candle might allow him a deeper look.

The black color isn’t as faded as the ink on his hand or arm, so it must be a recent sin you went for. You hum in innocence, opening your eyes again to barely catch the shake of his head as he repeats his question.

“What is that, huh?” He exhales the last word, breathing against you. Then kisses the skin underneath the tattoo. “You weren’t even gonna tell me about it?”

“Figured you might find out one day…”

He laughs quietly, hiding his fascination. But you know he’s still mesmerized, staring at the little thing, distracted even when he responds. “Is that so? You tease.”

Dipping down, an open mouthed kiss lands on top of your tattoo. His hands push your tits together, his mouth working on worshiping the tiny piece of skin that has captured him. His kiss is greedy to the touch, his breaths cold against the saliva he left once he lifts his face again.

“A crown, yeah? That what it is, isn’t it?”

The pleasant satisfaction in his voice is apparent, but you think you even hear bits of irritation – like he’s annoyed that you didn’t tell him about this. Like he’d dove into you earlier if you had.

“Hey, a lil feeling of royalty is never…” You stop when he pecks your tummy. His lips run along your stomach until they reach your pelvis. “Ohhhfff… You’re close.”

“I’ll keep going, alright?”

You let out more incoherent sounds, something between a moan and a hum. The anticipation is unbearable, but the fact that Jungkook is still fully dressed and his cock yet aching to be discovered by you might be worse.

With the blanket fully off of you, his lips explore your body, so close to where you want him. His right hand still lingers where the tattoo is eternalized in your skin, and according to his next words, his mind isn’t less hung up on it, either.

“Your tattoo matches mine, y’know?” He informs you as if you haven’t seen the crown on his index finger a few million times. The digit that’s digging into your hungry cunt again, along with another finger showcasing an emoji that must be looking like you right now. “We can both be royalty, don’t you think, princess?”

“My God, shut up,” you order. Your insides cringe, even though you’re sure you wouldn’t be opposed to him calling you that godforsaken nickname once again.

His giggle is Jungkook-ish sweet, but the hands that pry your legs open are not. Less even when he pushes them down onto the mattress as much as your joints allow, distracting you from the pull of your muscles when his nose nuzzles your pelvis.

The tip of his tongue touches your sacred part first. It’s just a slight dip, testing the waters. But your ocean is wild and its waves crash against the pit of your stomach.

“Didn’t think you’d be responsive right away,” he admits, only pausing to place a gentle kiss on your clit. “Then again, I haven’t seen a dude at our place in ages.”

“Asshole,” you curse, eliciting another deep snicker that vibrates right against your cunt.

Then, the jokes end and his stance changes. He takes a deep breath and then lowers his head once and for all. Leaving a trace of kisses riles you up enough, though things only get worse once his tongue darts out, starting a gentle dance in a captivating pattern.

He collects spit on the muscle in his mouth, pulling out the fingers out of you to spread your folds. Watching your pussy shimmer and leak, he laps up the arousal meant for just him. His cock stretches his favorite joggers, and he moves his hips against the bed for relief.

Buried deep, he moves to your clit to close his lips around it for a moment before he french kisses your pussy. Then, he repeats it all – only this time, the tip of his tongue moves in a perfect circle around your sensitive nub for a bit longer.

Slowly, softly, and then he stops.

“Wait…” you interrupt, blindly grabbing a patch of his hair. “Do that again. Please.”

The hushed desperation in your voice makes his sweatpants strain impossibly. His balls already ache.

“Like that?”

“Yeah… Yep.”

You arch your back and let your mouth fall open when his fingers return inside you, tongue imitating the motions from before. For a while, your moans and uncontrolled, quiet, peaceful sounds motivate and inflame him.

But once he begins yearning for your taste again, he swaps. His curved digits pull out of you, thumb taking his mouth’s place and vice versa. Which feels… Just as dangerous.

His tongue presses into you, a hand shoving up your right, closing leg. Your thigh stiffens when it feels his fingers deep in your flesh, and when it relaxes again, it falls over his shoulder and onto his back softly.

Zealously, you plant your heel against his shirt, trying not to think about the muscles of his back too hard. Yet, drowning in fervor, you can’t help but push his shirt up, irritated that he’s still wearing so damn much when you’ve already exposed the last of your being to him.

He either doesn’t notice or doesn’t acknowledge your hints yet. Because his focus is still somewhere else – understandably so.

“I knew you’d taste like that,” he confesses when he surfaces to take a breath.

He knew?

You’re panting more than him. Speaking comes to you harder than to him. “Like what?”

“Like absolute heaven,” he exhales at your waterfall-sex, hot and shiver inducing. “Pussy gifted by the angels.”

Oh, you bet he says that to everyone…

“Please don’t treat me like one, though,” you beg.

“Like an angel? Don’t worry. I fear you’re far filthier than I might expect.”

When his words collide with his repeated actions, your eyes water. You whine at the onslaught on your pussy, squirming, and shake your head when your insides somersault.

“I… I don’t think I can anymore,” you foolishly say.

Your ears seem to block out any sound, your body revolting. The pressure in your stomach is intense, to say the least. Your fingers and toys surely don’t feel that way.

“It feels like that because you can. I promise,” Jungkook, however, assures.

“This is the… I’ve never…”

It’s true. You’ve never had a build up or an orgasm like this before. Of course not: How could you if he’s drinking in every drop of the arousal dribbling out of you while rendering you wetter at the same time?

He sounds so goddamn lewd when he makes out with your cunt like that. Too filthy… You wonder how his lips will feel against yours if he’s able to do such magic down below already.

“It’s gonna be good… Okay?”

He’s wrong. Good is an absolute understatement.

The force with which your orgasm hits is worse than being run over by a truck. You internally slap everyone in your past who missed to make you feel that way.

You implode and explode, a swarm of cacophonic sounds oozing out of your mouth. You grab his sheets and his blanket so hard that the thoughts in the back of your head fear you might rip something.

Jungkook groans and moans along with you, his mouth and fingers attached to you no matter how much you move. A single tear flees between your shut eyelids, arousal not stopping to trickle out of you.

You’re still calling his name once the high comes down… Still holding the sheet, your vision still blurry. He licks and rides you through the end of the blast for a few more seconds. And when he’s done and you look at him, he’s covered in a shimmer.

Such a pretty boy.

“Hey,” he whispers joyfully once he comes up. “Hello.”

“Hey. You, jail,” you breathe.

You don’t waste a moment before you take off his shirt, eager and hungry. He laughs, cocking an eyebrow. “Why jail? Did I give you a bombastic orgasm or what?” He moves to lay half on top of you and licks his lips. “Shouldn’t I get free lap dances or something?”

“Jail for not doing this earlier.”

“Ah. Apologies. I’ll be at your service whenever from now on.”

The vow makes your tummy flutter. From now on? So he wants to do that again?

Nah. You must be dreaming. A fall night's fever dream.

“Good,” you mutter before you close the distance mutually.

He cages you in, beginning the kiss softly but urgently. His tongue doesn’t hesitate to seek out yours, and he tilts his head to deepen the gesture. Both your hands wander to the other’s face and hair, lips eating up each and every thrum.

His chest is warm against yours, hard pecs pressing against your nipples. It feels good, feeling him so close and intimate with you. No layers separating your upper bodies, melting into one… And that kiss…

As he pours all passion into it, you think you taste a bit of you on him, but said taste mingles with a lot of other things. The spices of dinner. The lingering sweetness of dessert. His thirst. The ardency that refuses to leave his motions.

“Hey,” he mumbles when he breaks the kiss. “I…”

“Hmm?”

“I really want you. So, so bad.”

The carnal desire is hidden in the moment for sure. But right now, listening to the softness in his voice, all you can and want to hear is unbridled longing.

Insatiable, you nod. “I want you, too. Please?”

“You… You don’t need to beg for it, Pumpkin.” His hips move against yours and you wrap your legs around him tighter. “Seriously, no need–”

His joggers are rough against your swollen pussy, but their harshness doesn’t compare to the thick bulge pushing into you. Moving down your wandering fingers, you push at the remaining clothing, shoving until you feel the bare, firm, muscular ass under your palms.

Hell, there’s so much you want to do. Like, slap it.

Lifting a little, he lets you free his cock, his sweatpants and underwear somewhere a little over his knees now. You’re ready to let him fuck you unconscious and into another universe before you realize you might not be all that ready just yet.

Because the throbbing, hot length falls heavy against your stomach. It’s thick and big and entirely unexpected. Not that he’s never boasted about it before or ran around without underwear beneath his pajamas. But fuck, you thought it’s the usual shit men say.

You didn’t think he was actually hiding something this… Generous.

“Wow, I–” You begin, but to no avail. Your screaming pussy distracts you.

“Huh? Yeah, what is it?” Jungkook purrs against your neck.

“Just. Can I…”

Your hand prowls from his ass to his cock, and you begin to guide it to your pussy slowly, opening up your legs more. Okay. You’re ready. You are. You are.

Only, Jungkook is not.

He shakes his head immediately, then nods towards the drawer inhabiting the condoms. You understand and roll your eyes, scoffing. “I wasn’t gonna do it anyways. But I’m… I am on the pill.”

“Yes. But you also forget to take it a lot.”

“Fair.” God, you just want him to drill you. Why’s starting so hard? “But I’m fine.”

“I am, too.” He groans when he moves over you, reaching to the drawer. “Still.”

You watch as he takes the package out, the foil carefully held between his fingertips. And in those brief seconds, you think.

His last hook up wasn’t so long ago. You wonder if he ever goes in raw with other girls… Wonder why he doesn’t with you but insists on protection. Less like he doesn’t trust you but more like he doesn’t trust himself.

You don’t ponder on your bumbling thoughts for too long before he smiles and sidetracks. “Hey, have you showered?”

“No. Why?” You answer, certain that the furrow of your eyebrows lays your confusion bare.

“You said you needed to.”

“And?”

“It’s gotten warm inside.” Aha… You think you know where this is going. But just for fun’s sake, you play dumb. “I still need my proper shower, too, by the way.”

“Okay… But we’re saving up on water, right?” You stare up at him in innocence. Godgodgodgod. He’s really doing that.

Jungkook slaps your ass, and you yelp. “Don’t play stupid. You know what I’m saying.”

“Kook–”

“What? We clean up together… Save water. I don’t have to shower again in the morning and can sleep in. It sounds like an amazing idea, if you ask me.”

You contemplate his idea. In all honesty, you know that he’s aware of your teasing and fake hesitation – but you think he likes the act. If it was up to him, he’d probably want you tapping your chin and all, cartoonesque.

“You do shower long…” You then conclude.

“Yeah. And so do you.”

“So…”

“So what do you say, Pumpkin Pie?”

“Mmmh. Okay.”

His eyes blow wide. “Really?”

You grimace at him. He’s adorable. After all he’s said and done, he’s still astonished at your response? An actual dork. But you still nod.

“Oomph,” he says. “Imagining you under the shower.” He’s talking more to himself than anything. “Might be just a bit more insane than imagining you naked in general.”

More than a decade of being friends and a couple of years of living together should’ve suggested at least once that thoughts can’t stay pure 24/7. Especially when hormones raged and you grew a pair of tits, you should’ve known his mind derailed a little on at least one occasion.

Still, you’re surprised.

“Did you imagine me naked before?” You wonder.

“Are you kidding me?”

The answer shoots out of him like a bullet, almost as fast as he lifts his body to come to a stand. You don’t bother about an answer when he grabs the condom and something else, then offers you a hand, pulling you up butt naked before guiding you to the bathroom.

“Calm down,” you joke. One hand covers your nipples, even though you’re not sure why. What’s done is done already, and you can’t and don’t want to burn the image of you exposed from his mind.

“Too late.” Once in front of the bathroom, he stops, lifting a finger. It’s funny how casual your conversation is and how naked you are. “Wait here.”

Twenty seconds pass, and he returns with two candles in his hands, planting and lighting them up on the washing machine. This idea better not backfire.

The small room is cooler than his own, and the porcelain sink he pushes you against when you enter, placing the condom and the small bottle he brought at the edge of it, is even worse.

You shiver and hiss before his fingers grip your chin. He pulls your face to his own, bringing your hand to his crotch as his kiss catches your breath.

His warm, towering cock twitches in your palm, making you moan into his mouth. You attempt to unify your bodies, shifting closer, but he keeps pushing you backwards. Your back arches over the sink, and the kiss stops, his lips opening yours, suffocating against you.

“You’re so fucking hot, you know?” He maffles, stepping back but not without pulling you along.

You can’t wait to step back into his room later to investigate where your discarded clothes lay.

For now, you smile, delighted when his lopsided smirk matches yours. He kisses the tip of your nose before he draws a deep breath. Brings the both of you into the shower and then lets hot water rain down on you.

The liquid burns hot on your shoulder first, and Jungkook exclaims something incomprehensible as he regulates the temperature pouring out of the faucet. The procedure remains calm and quiet, unusual for a bickering pair like you.

But once he gets soaked under the water, shaking his hair out of his eyes just to push it back with his hands… You can’t keep your mouth shut anymore.

“Jungkook,” you whisper.

He puts a hand on your waist and the other on your cheek, stepping closer carefully. For a second, you think he looks at you like nothing else in the universe matters.

Your stomach bubbles… Your heart pounds.

“Hmm… Yeah?”

“I imagined you,” you tell him. “Us… Like that before, too.”

“Really? How?” He whispers back. Your vision is blurry – you don’t know if it’s the water’s or the moment’s craze’s fault.

All you know is that you want to remember his touch on your face, the shower warming your chest, trickling into your soul.

He keeps brushing back your drenched tresses lovingly and softly. You almost forget how to act purely horny, enabling tenderness and feelings until your nipples press against his torso and his cock moves against you again.

“I feel like you’d enjoy,” you near his ear, breathing, “sucking on my tits as much as I would.”

He grins.

“I’m more of an ass guy, though.”

On cue, he grabs a handful of your rear, pulling out a weird sound out of you that you regret immediately. He doesn’t bother as much as you. He’s busy staring at your lips and getting familiar with your ass.

“Right,” you say, distracted by the (intentional?) movements of his cock. You want to… You really want to… “Can I– can I suck you, ass guy?”

The embrace around you loosens up. According to his expression, he probably didn’t predict your question; but you think a man with a dick like his should expect that everyone wants to suck him dry.

But anyways–

Perhaps his surprise is a good thing, because the way his mouth drops open when you bring your hand to his shaft is priceless.

“Wow,” he expresses under his breath. “I’d be fucking stupid to say no, right?”

“Yes. I’m pretty good at this.”

You wrap your fingers and palm around his hardness, twisting your hand and alternating the pace. Your thumb runs over his slit, tempted to taste what already leaks out. One smile is all he gets before you choose to drop to your knees instead. Sacrificing their flawless state.

He shifts to the wall until his back hits its coolness, speechless when you look up at him, trying your hardest not to ogle at the delicious cock angry in front of you, and then stretch out your tongue.

You press it to the underside of his cock, making sure he feels you breathing, and then you shove his member into your mouth before it can slap back against his stomach.

Holy fuck, he really is hard.

“I believe you…” He says, his breaths rigid. “Barely doing anything, but it’s…”

So good.

First, you focus on the head. Swirling your tongue around it, you hum, hearing him hiss above you. You do your best, but you don’t know just how much you actually affect him.

Because from above, Jungkook’s point of view is something he doesn’t think he could even dream of. The sounds of you quietly gagging and slurping, constantly moaning and vibrating around him rile him up. The fact that you’re struggling to control your breathing, because you’re too immersed, apprehensive to stop.

And your lips, God, your lips, they wrap around him perfectly. He wonders what it’d look like if you were wearing lipstick, or how your non-waterproof mascara would run down your cheeks if he fucked your mouth.

You pull him out to catch a breath, using the pause to stroke him lightly. Leaning closer, you take a moment to rub the tip against your nipple – he seems to like it, because the bite of his lip is firm.

Then, you move your gentle touch to his balls and speak. “Is that alright?”

“I… alright?” He croaks, furrowing his eyebrows. “How about you suck me dry every fucking day, huh?”

“If I’m allowed to.”

You laugh a little, inhaling through your nose before you dive in again. This time, you let him in as much as you can take. Small fireworks explode on your tongue when his precum touches it, his cock twitching more between your lips as you suck harder.

“You are… Fuck, of course you are…” He permits, throwing back his head. Tattooed digits sneak into your hair, and when he pulls your head back, you disconnect from his cock with a plop sound. “But pause for now, k? Wanna fu–”

He can’t speak, so you guess you succeeded. But you get it… You’d rather he fucked you too instead of coming in your mouth.

A hand wrapped around your neck gently pulls you up to your feet. His jaw is clenched and sharp, and his eyes are piercing. He looks so fucking hot wet like that, drawing out his tongue to run it between his lips.

His mouth lures you in automatically, your gaze frozen on it and already imagining his taste. But he’s a step ahead–though in another twisted way–when he turns you around without a warning.

He pins your tits against the wall and tugs at your hips until you’re angled just right for him. Then, he leans in to voice one single order. “Stay like that.”

His wish is your command, anytime.

Panting, you let the water pour onto you, waiting. The small bottle he brought, undoubtedly lube, is placed in the shower caddy next to you, and before you can blink twice, you hear a package ripping open.

“Hurry,” you beg, recognizing the amused chuckle you definitely expected.

“Chill,” he says. “Gimme just a moment, princess.”

“Stop.”

Another sneer, more apparent complications, but in the meantime he distracts you with words that leave you unstable. “Fuck, I wish I could go in just like that.”

You want to say he can. But you don’t want to risk another rejection like before… Your heart and ego can only take this much.

For now, you push the thoughts aside, only focusing on the fact that you’ll be railed by Jeon fucking Jungkook. That he’s turned you around to finally weaken your knees, to batter your pussy, that you’ll actually be having sex with him in no time.

Or whenever he figures out a solution to his problem.

He turns away the showerhead and curses at the condom or whatever, and you laugh, still bent in an uncomfortable position.

“Harder than you thought, huh?” You joke.

As a response, he exhales, then grabs your waist as he delivers a verbal answer. “My dick or putting this shit on? Because yeah.”

Apparently, dealing with the condom wasn’t too impossible after all. Because once it’s done, his hands are on you again, one pulling you in further by your hip while the other spreads your pussy folds.

Then, his fingers disappear, grabbing the bottle of lube to fiddle with the liquid and placing it back in no time. You can hear the sounds that smearing it onto his dick causes.

And then you hear it even worse when he brings those exact digits back to your cunt. He contributes the rest of the lube by rolling his fingertips around your entrance and then pumping into you a couple of times. You moan out, and impatience grows faster.

“Okay,” he says, his voice still steady. “You tell me to stop if it ever hurts, alright?”

You nod, and he whispers, “Perfect.”

And then, it happens.

And it takes ages.

Not really due to hesitation or anything like that, but more because the cock intruding your walls just doesn’t stop. The shaft, rich in thickness and length, penetrates you deep, already overwhelming, and you’re sure he isn’t even halfway through.

“That enough?” He asks.

You shake your head. No. You don’t think anything will ever be enough, no matter how intense and mind numbing things become. More, you want all of him.

“More,” you repeat, speaking out loud.

“Seriously…?”

Yeah. You’re as much in disbelief as him. But your body – it knows what it’s pleading for, what signals it’s sending to your brain and then to your tongue.

“Please,” you beg. “I’ll tell you if I feel uncomfortable. I promise.”

A groan. A deeper push. He fills you to the brink, engulfed by you perfectly. The ideal lock to his key… Everything inside you tingles and aches.

When he’s bottomed out, he shifts and you feel the movement inside you. Mewling, you whisper his name, his ears perking up as his already drained voice calls back to you.

“Move?” He wants to know, his entire sentence abandoned.

“Move.”

So he does.

Long, slow, languid and careful strokes. He pants behind you. The shower water is still a bit too hot, but it doesn’t compare to whatever the fuck he’s kindling inside you.

Whenever he returns back deep, you lose your mind a bit more. And whenever he notices, his pace fastens by a tiny, tiny fraction. Until restraint becomes a foreign concept.

“Fuck, I wish I could…” His sentence breaks as much as you do when his hips meet yours. “Wish I could keep the imprints of your hands on the wall forever.” He thrusts into you hard once, hands pushing up your ass. “Wish I could see you pressed against it.”

He leans forward, his wet chest touching your soaked back. Kissing your cheek and neck, you slip into the craze only he can call forth. Fucked by him in the flickering candlelight, romantic for a fly on the wall, but sickeningly filthy in reality.

You’re a fool, because the thought of romance rests in the back of your mind right now – so you add to the already established sins when his hand brushes your neck.

“Jungkook…” You purr.

His movements slow down at the call of his name. You reach out an arm and turn the stream of water off – after all, you’re here to save the environment and yourself. That you’ve barely been focusing on showering is neither your fault.

Jungkook doesn’t question whatever you do. You don’t think he cares much about his surroundings anyway, everything around him is blurred but you. His lips still roam your shoulder when he shoves himself inside you balls deep and then pauses there.

You whisper his name again, drawing out another deep hum right next to his ear, and then spit it out.

“Choke me.”

You wonder. If you hadn’t turned off the water, would it have frozen to ice, too?

Because the wall and the room suddenly cool down and you swear he’s stopped breathing. You press your underarms and your forehead to the wall, eyes closing and asking yourself whether you made a mistake.

But… But maybe not.

In the next moment, Jungkook suddenly laughs a little, quiet but enticing enough to make your scalp tingle. He pushes the hair out of your face and your neck, slowly tracing your skin downward until he touches the spot over your vocal cords.

His fingers lift your head, breaking the contact to the wall. Gently rubbing your jaw with his thumb, he starts wrapping a huge hand around your neck… Silently at first before he finally answers.

“Shit, you’re so much dirtier than the good girl I know.”

No matter how simple the sentence, something in it awakens ambiguity in you. The realization that you’ve successfully surprised him. And at the same time, the urge to remain his good girl.

You want to be all of it for him; want to be the only object of affection for him.

“Can tell you the s-same.” You gasp when he squeezes the sides of your neck, just below your jawline. “This isn’t–” Biting your lip, you pause, distracted by his palm. “Not what puppy eyed boys should be doing.”

He lifts your body wordlessly, only laughing at your words in delight. Still sunken inside you, he straightens your posture just a bit, careful to not apply any kind of pressure to your windpipe. He knows what he’s doing – sex couldn’t be safer with anyone else.

At least that’s what you know, judging the choking experiences you’ve gathered with other men or women so far.

He leans into you, kissing your temple as he hammers into you again. The squeezes around your neck differ: His motions follow a varying pattern; your veins pulsate.

You imagine his clenched jaw or his furrowed eyebrows. The furious look on his face that doesn’t really suggest anger but blissful pleasure. You imagine his teeth trapping his lower lip, dimples on his cheeks, wet dark hair restricting his vision.

All that combined with all the godless things he says.

“I can’t believe we haven’t done this before… But…”

A sharp thrust pushes you forward, and one of your hands reaches behind you to grip his hip. Good God, he’s so fucking large. Human anatomy and logic aside, he must be battering your guts along with your pussy.

“But I knew I’d fuck you one day.”

Oh.

He has no remorse. He’s either too trapped in you to notice what he’s doing to you or he knows exactly what he’s doing to you. Either way, your faltering soul can barely still handle him.

“You fucking devil,” you only respond.

And the devil has the audacity to leave your neck to slap your tits. How dare.

You yelp and your sound continues when he pinches your nipples, soft at first before his nips become harder. Defenseless in his grip, your knees almost buckle, especially when he talks to you again.

“My God, you’re letting me do fucking anything I want.”

“It’s… It’s the dick,” you tell him, already embarrassed. “Too good.”

“Ah? Thanks.” Letting his hands drop from your sensitive tits, he finds your clit again – you think you might cry. “Little reward for being so good for me?”

You want him to elaborate, but you soon learn what that reward consists of anyway.

He caresses your clit slowly and gently, accompanied by occasional light slaps. No rest for the wicked seems to be his motto today, not that you can complain.

Because a minute later, his fingers combined with the reckless, now fast paced plunges throw your world into chaos once more. You scream out his name, barely able to breathe. “Kook, I’m… I–”

“I know. Let go for me, Pumpkin. You’re all good, okay?”

His promises and soft reassurances make you fall harder into the fondness you already feel for him. If there was ever a point of return, he’s annihilated it once and for all now.

Who are you to doubt him? So you let another mind blowing orgasm wash over you. It rolls in hard, showing in your broken moans and curling fingers. He holds you up on your melting legs, an arm around your tummy.

“Hold on for me,” he snarls against your cheek, and you try. You really try your best, but your body’s giving up, trembling at the peak’s intensity that’s shaking up your insides. “Gonna cum, too…”

One more. You can afford one more indecent idea.

“Cum on my ass, Kook.”

“Fucking hell, baby.”

That’s all. That’s all he needs.

No hesitation in sight, he steps back and out of you, angling your body again by pulling your ass back as much as possible. The condom falls somewhere next to you – you see it from the corner of your eyes before you hear the way Jeon Jungkook climaxes.

Which is: With extra guttural groans, a quivering breath, fingers digging deep into the flesh of your butt and–what you realize when you look back at him–with super uncontrolled pumps of his cock.

“Fuuuuck,” he moans when his seed shoots hot onto your bottom.

It takes a few seconds for him to empty himself completely, and he keeps swearing, keeps saying something you barely understand.

But what you do understand, even though you’re absentmindedly focusing on his fingers spreading the cum on your back, is, “Gonna punish you for being so fucking hot one day.”

“That a promise?” You ask, still breathless.

He laughs. “Brat.”

The whole affair ends almost the way it started: Carefully and slowly, bickering thrown in here and there. But aside from the obvious fact you’re showering together, still so, so naked, there are more differences you notice when he lets the water run again to clean you up properly.

Like, his look. A smile you haven’t seen before, you think.

Very soft touches along your cheeks, fingers combing through your hair like you’re something fragile.

Questions such as, “Are you okay? Was that okay? Do you feel good, Pumpkin?”

Also… The hecking forehead kiss when you smile and nod.

The mood has shifted, albeit to something pleasant, once everything’s said and done. He puffs out a breath, discarding the neglected condom. Before he wraps you in a towel, his thumb brushes over your tattoo once more – his eyes look fascinated and affectionate, but he doesn’t comment on it again.

He doesn’t guide you back to your room but to his, drying you up thoroughly and affectionately.

He lets you leave for just a moment, telling you that you need to come back once you’ve found stuff to sleep in. His behavior is odd, but instead of questioning it, you indulge in his tender care.

But in the end, he only lets you wear your fresh pair of underwear and your shorts, snatching your shirt to throw it onto his desk. He rummages through his closet silently and only speaks once he’s handed you one of his cotton shirts.

“Take this?”

His tone is different from how he sounded the rest of the night. Not demanding, but kind of questioning. His teeth nibble at his lip and then he says, “I think you’d look good in it… Just if you’re up to it.”

He doesn’t stutter or hesitate. Like he dreamed of this for ages.

“Okay,” you mutter.

Taking a seat at the edge of the bed, he waits until you’re done, incredibly ecstatic when you smoothen the fabric over your body. He praises you, “Knew it. Beautiful.”

Then, his mouth falls shut. The joy melts into something softer. His eyes drink you in from head to toe, and he lifts both arms to tangle his fingers with yours.

You oblige, letting him pull you closer softly. Tilting your head, you speak up. “What’s up?”

But he doesn’t elaborate. “Nothing,” he only tells you with a smile.

“Okay.”

“But–”

You knew it. There’s something he’s thinking of profusely and he doesn’t want to keep it hidden. Thank God.

“Yeah?” You spur him on.

“Um… Stay here tonight.”

…Oh. Oh–

After all the things that went down tonight, his offer still strikes you like lightning. There’s a dull thump behind your chest and a growing ache in your stomach. You don’t know what it is and don’t understand why your body reacts that way.

You should be swarmed with butterflies. But instead, a ball of something strange forms inside you.

Maybe because he asks like your room isn't right next to his. Or as though you’d be gone and out of reach for miles if you stepped over the threshold of his bedroom now.

But… You’d be insane to resist.

So you let him drape the blanket over the both of you, crawling next to him.

“Lemme–” He says. You don’t get the opportunity to lay against his heartbeat, because he does it first. An arm holds your body close, his cheek pressed against your chest. “Like that. Feels good.”

He tangles his legs with yours, sighing in extreme satisfaction. You’re sure he’s dozing off when you interrupt by joking, “We didn’t save that much water after all.”

His voice is just a mumble when he speaks. “You did turn it off, though…” You chuckle quietly, and he pulls you closer to him. “I’ll use the college shower for a few days, okay?”

The things he’s ready to do for you…

In hindsight, you don’t think it’s the physical attraction you’ve been feeling for weeks that led to tonight’s fiasco. It’s not hormones or his jawline. Thinking, your emotions might date back to a time you can barely remember.

Because those subtle sacrifices he makes, the caring statements, the love he carries for you that shows in tiny, tiny things. Platonic or not, a bond like yours was bound to make you fall as hard as you did.

You think you remember what occurred that set you on fire so much hotter recently. Just right now… It might not be the time to speak about it yet, so you stuff the secret memory back into your mind.

Zeroing in on the mention of college, you stretch sideways, telling him to hold on a moment.

“Hm?” He mumbles.

“Setting an alarm.” The phone screen lights up your face and you squint one eye shut. “We’re still college students, Jungkook.”

“Mmmh,” he groans in displeasure. “Do we need to go?”

“I mean, do you wanna graduate?”

“I don’t know. I could strip for money.”

You laugh, holding him closer to you than before. Fondness seeps into him, and you notice when he digs his ear harder into your chest.

“Saw you naked, so speaking out of experience,” you support, “I think people would like that.”

He hums again. You feel his lips graze the shirt he gave you. “Would you be my manager?”

“If I get free shows.”

Nodding, he assures, “Of course. You can count on me, mon capitaine.”

“Oohhh,” you praise, tapping his bare bicep. “You can’t just quote The Beauty and the Beast and expect me to stay solid.”

He breathes out a throaty laugh, sounding right from his chest. “Stay solid?”

“Yeah. Look.” You palm his soft cheek, ignoring the way he leans into your touch. Ignoring what it does to you. And he’s smiling, too. “Do you feel me melting?”

“You’re so damn funny, you know?” He tells you.

Your face warms at his compliment, and you think you could fall asleep in satisfaction after all. That is. If there wasn’t what he says next of course. Out of fucking nowhere.

“Hey…” He begins and hesitates. His voice is quiet and drowsy, ready to drift off. “All that happened won’t change anything, right? Between us? Because I’m… I’m sorry if it makes things weird.”

Your heart skips a beat… He might have heard it.

That’s what he wants? To not change shit?

To remain platonic, friendly, close but not close enough. It won’t change anything? Because you thought it would.

But what are you supposed to say? Here, with him in your arms. You can’t start an argument or disrupt the evening you gifted each other. The preciousness of it can’t fade…

“No,” is what you say for that reason. “Of course not.”

“Good. Good, that’s important.” You don’t think he’s aware of what he’s saying. He sounds so tired, worn out after all the things he did today. The way he bids tonight goodbye is proof of that. “Night, Pumpkin.”

“Good night, Kook.”

Why did things happen the way they did? How did you let your guard fall? When did he decide it’d be okay to take a step further in his bed, in the bathroom, in the shower, only to go back to ground zero?

All those questions could plague your mind as you begin slumbering away. But they don’t.

Not yet.

–

pt1 || pt2 || pt3

–

author’s note: I am! sorry for the ending🥴 if you made it to the end of my very first real fic, thank you sowww much! did you enjoy it? let me know what you think--send an ask or reblog if you’d like, i’m really excited to know what you have to say bc feedback and support means everything💕

[heavenlyhischier]

𝐃𝐚𝐢𝐬𝐲 | 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐇𝐮𝐠𝐡𝐞𝐬

this has been sitting my drafts for a while so i figured might as well post it while i’m working on my celly fics 🫶🏻

yourusername

liked by elblue6, jamiedrysdale, and others

yourusername happy 22nd birthday to my best friend since birth. you’re a pain in my ass every single day but i can’t seem to get rid of you so ig i’ll deal with it

everyone go tell my best happy birthday or else 🤺

tagged jackhughes

View all 73 comments

lhughes_06 why are you wearing a helmet

yourusername they said i was “ a danger to myself”

╰➤ jackhughes you were

╰➤ yourbff you ARE

_quinnhughes we can’t get rid of him either. i tried

jackhughes yo???

trevorzegras couple of BESTIES

yourusername why do you do this every time

╰➤ trevorzegras because you’re my favorite couple of BESTIES

jackhughes you literally moved to jersey with me so i don’t think you’re trying very hard 🥸

yourusername you literally begged me to???

yourusername also you’re welcome for the birthday post you loser 🙄 so ungrateful

╰➤ jackhughes thank you daisy❤️

╰➤ nicohischier that’s not her name?

╰➤ yourbff he calls her that because it’s her favorite flower😭

╰➤ nicohischier “we’re just friends”

╰➤ this comment has been deleted

yourmom happy birthday to my future son-in-law!

liked by elblue6, trevorzegras, _quinnhughes, lhughes_06, yoursibling, _alexturcotte, colecaufield, yourbff, nicohischier, and jackhughes

jackhughes

liked by trevorzegras, mattwilliams, and others

jackhughes 2/3

tagged lhughes_06, _quinnhughes, and yourusername

View all 373 comments

user1 jack and yourusername never beating the dating allegations with this behavior

trevorzegras White jets all dizzy

yourusername don’t encourage him. who wears forces to a wedding???

╰➤ jackhughes a man with style

yourusername ellen is the only reason i’m liking this post. she looks so beautiful as always

user2 so real. ellen slays

user3 tell quinn my dms are open

nicohischier 🧐

yourbff 🔎

yourusername you guys are annoying

user4 they’re going to be dating by the end of summer if they’re not already. im calling it🤞🏼

yourusername

liked by randomkidfromHS, dylanduke25, and others

yourusername surprise!! friends to lovers is my favorite trope for a reason

tagged jackhughes

View all 97 comments

trevorzegras COUPLE

yourusername yes Z, just couple

╰➤ trevorzegras finally. man’s been in love with you for years now

╰➤ yourusername jackhughes years?????

yourbff I KNEW IT

yourbff WHY DID YOU NOT TELL ME WHAT THE FUCK

╰➤ yourusername i’m sorry i love you!!!!

lhughes_06 thank god. i can stop being your third wheel now

yourusername no pls. i need you there for moral support. i can’t handle jack by myself

╰➤ jackhughes wtf??

nicohischier wow i am shocked. i did not see this coming at all

liked by yourusername

colecaufield “best friends can go to a lantern festival without it being romantic” liars. both of you. liars. you just went so you could make out

yourusername hehe sorry coley 🫶🏻

╰➤ jackhughes we didn’t just make out 😮‍💨

╰➤ colecaufield you’re kidding right? you guys took my car. YOU ARE KIDDING RIGHT?

╰➤ liked by jackhughes

╰➤ colecaufield i’m burning my car

elblue6 happy 6 months you two!

liked by yourmom and yourusername

_quinnhughes what happened to “we don’t keep secrets in this family”???

lhughes_06 ^^^

jackhughes

liked by tmeier96, john.marino97 and others

jackhughes my daisy, you are everything good in the world. for as long as i can remember, you have shown me what it’s like to live and to love. i’m grateful for you in more ways than you know, and i can’t wait to love you for as long as you’ll have me.

tagged yourusername

View all 385 comments

user1 wow i am so shocked at this news 😱

jesperbratt took you long enough

_alexturcotte COUPLE

trevorzegras back off that’s my thing

user2 alexa play that should be me by justin bieber

yourusername shut up i’m crying wtf i love you

yourusername who wrote this caption for you

╰➤ jackhughes i came up with it all by myself thank you (quinn helped me)

user3 who knew jack was so sappy????

yourusername i didn’t tbh

lhughes_06 hard launch 🗣️

_quinnhughes simp

jackhughes no shame

user4 called it

[igotlovestruck]

fine line [ christian pulisic ]

after finding out the secret you’ve been hiding for years, christian made it his mission to be with his own family and of course, to be with you despite your careers and other obstacles that’s keeping the both of you apart. things are moving too fast and it’s starting to worry you. but don’t worry—“we’ll be a fine line”.

[ 𝗣𝗔𝗜𝗥𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗔𝗡𝗗 𝗖𝗛𝗔𝗥𝗔𝗖𝗧𝗘𝗥𝗦 ] — christian pulisic x ex!reader; oc!emily, oc!ezekiel, oc!andrew . ⊹ ✶ ㄔ 🫂 °.   *

[ 𝗗𝗘𝗧𝗔𝗜𝗟𝗦 & 𝗪𝗔𝗥𝗡𝗜𝗡𝗚𝗦 ] — insta au, im not really good at dates but just imagine the setting is during the summer lmfao, christian & y/n softlaunching (are they really though 🤨) . ⊹ ✶ ㄔ ℹ️ °.   *

࣪˖ 💭 .. 𝗘𝗬𝗔’𝗦 𝗡𝗢𝗧𝗘𝗦 ⌕ YEAH so ive only got this for now, i haven’t finished writing the narrative scenario BUT FOR NOW enjoy this <3 ALSOOO belated happy birthday to my man who isn’t my man but is my man ❤️🖤

this work is purely fictional. names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. © httpsuniverse, 2023. do not steal, repost in other platforms, translate and/or claim this work as your own.

— in case you missed it: easy on me • read more of my works here!

cmpulisic

liked by masonmount and 299,372 others

cmpulisic summer for the books ✌🏻 ready to go 🚨♟️

view all 382 comments

user wait what

user since anyone isn’t mentioning anything about the 4th and 8th pic, i will. DID I MISS SOMETHING OR....?

user girl you’re wrong, everyone’s talking about it

user you mean, did WE miss something? yeah, we definitely did

user yall maybe that’s just his nephew or something 😭

user i don’t...i don’t think so...

user WHATTTTT

user whose kid is that christian 😭

user this is your year christian 👏🏻

user captain america ❤️🖤

masonmount congratulations brother 🤝

benchilwell my man 🫡

yourusername

liked by emilyemmons and 579 others

yourusername what a crazy summer it has been 🌻 til next time florida!

view all comments

emilyemmons 💗 enjoy your journey to milan, my loves!!

yourusername come visit us when celeste is a bit older 😚💗

emilyemmons oh we definitely would 🫶 celeste definitely loved having her godmom around 😌

yoursistersig hot mamas!! 🥵 emilyemmons yourusername

yourusername stoppp 🫣

emilyemmons this summer is the most i’ve seen y/n wear bikinis and she’s the HOTTEST

yoursistersig ikr! that’s what i've been telling herrr 😫

yourmomsig zekey holding the flowers 🌷 enjoy milan, my love 🤍 wishing you all the best

yourusername 🥹 see you soon mom!!

emilyemmons those are from ********* 🤭

yourusername emi!!!

yourmomsig well, they’re beautiful! he definitely remembers which flowers you like 😉

deedee_pulisic come back soon with zeke ❤️

yourusername of course! he and avery can be playmates 🥰

user wait a minute...

user girl are you thinking what i’m thinking

user ...yes...

user is THAT christian 😭

user GIRLLL the tattoo, the beard !!!! it IS christian

YOURUSERNAME HAS SET THEIR ACCOUNT TO PRIVATE.

cpulisicupdates

10,817 likes

cpulisicupdates “I’LL DO MY BEST TO PROTECT THEM FROM THE PUBLIC”

are these hints that christian pulisic is finally off the market? watch christian’s newest interview, click the link on my bio to access it! 😄

view all 492 comments

user wait what

user I KNEW THAT KID IS HIS

user we’ll never know unless he confirms it him babe

user girl are you not convinced already lol look closely at the pictures of the kid on the mom’s posts, he clearly looks like christian when he was a kid

user still not convinced

user you do you ig

user “very special people that i’ve recently reunited with” omfg exes to lovers i think

user GIIIIIIIIIIRL 😭 dont do this to me

user dont blame me i finished a lot of movies today

user i dont know which one of you bitches just lied to me and told me i have a chance with this man ... APPARENTLY HE HAS A KID

user this has got to be the funniest shit i’ve read today 😭

user yeah that girl and kid is definitely connected to him, i surrender

user she’s definitely the girl he dated during his dortmund days

user i cant complain though, she’s gorgeous and i dont blame christian for being private with his relationship right now especially if they have a kid together

[lees-chaotic-brain]

Okay, ocean-loving Inumaki, you know? those who love jellyfish and have shark pajamas. Taking him on a date to the aquarium, I feel like he would be very happy and look so tiny 🤏🏻 Whatever. I love how you writing you're great!

You take Inumaki on an aquarium date

WC: 1.4k

CW: mentions of octopi having sex ig, fluff, NOT beta-read, read at your own risk

Note: @kainlvstoge omg i'm sorry this took so long, but thank you so much for your kind words!! i had never thought about my boy inumaki as an ocean lover, but i can see it now that you said it. anyways, i hope you enjoy it!!! also: i had to do a little research for this fic, so take any facts with a grain of salt

Event Guide | Event Masterlist | JJK Masterlist | Blog Navigation

Every single date your boyfriend had taken you on was perfect; like something out of a dream. Picnics in a field of wildflowers on a sunny spring day, stargazing at night from a blanket nest in the back of a pickup truck he borrowed from one of Nobara’s relatives, watching fireworks on a balmy, clear summer night. Every romantic fantasy you ever had, he fulfilled, just by listening to you ramble about yourself.

Which is why you wanted so desperately to return the favor, and take him on his dream date. But there was one little problem. Actually, one looming, mortifying, mountain sized problem: you had no idea what his dream date would even look like. For weeks you pondered, agonizing over  whether or not to straight up ask him, ruining the surprise and admitting you’re a terrible significant other in the process. No. You couldn’t ask him. So you did the next best thing, which is why you were currently treating his best friend to coffee.

“So uh, not that I don’t appreciate it  or anything, but may I ask why you suddenly insisted on buying me coffee?”

Too nervous to meet Yuuta’s piercing blue-gray eyes, you stared daggers into your innocent chai latte.

“This is actually super embarrassing, but would you mind if I asked you for some advice?”

“I’m not sure how much help I’ll be, but go ahead.”

Starting off, you told him about what a thoughtful and sweet boyfriend Toge is, before moving on to explain your dilemma, asking him for his help.

“And it’s not like I haven’t had a ton of ideas! It’s more like, none of them feel right, and I want this to be perfect.” You finish your explanation, looking at Yuuta hopefully. “So, I was hoping that as his best friend, you might have some suggestions?”

“Actually, I do.” He leans forward a bit, in a conspiratory manner. “Not a lot of people know this about him, so I’m not surprised you don’t, but you can’t tell him I told you, deal?”

You nod, willing to agree to pretty much anything at this point.

“He’s like, obsessed with anything ocean related. I mean, he’s a total geek about it. He’s got tons of facts about sea creatures memorized, and even has this pair of pajama pants with little jellyfish on them. So I’d take him to the aquarium if I were you. Before the two of you started dating, he used to drag me there every other weekend.”

You sat back in your seat, stunned. How did you not know this about him? In a week or so the two of you will have been dating for a year! Smiling, at Yuuta, you return to the campus and thank him profusely for his insight before returning to your room and pulling up the local aquarium’s website. You had a date to plan.

A little over a week later, your one year anniversary had arrived and you were ready. You had told your boyfriend to keep his schedule open because you had a surprise planned for him, so when you were ready with the tickets tucked securely in your bag, you told your boyfriend to meet you at the school gates.

When you arrived, he was already there, and you took a moment to appreciate how attractive he was in his casual clothes. He was wearing a black long sleeved shirt with a baggy white t-shirt over it, his black cargo pants mostly covering his battered converse. Looking up from his phone he waved at you grinning. Running up to him, you flung your arms around his neck, feeling his chest rumble with laughter as he caught you. 

“Konbu!” He greeted you, before pulling out his phone and typing something.

You look really nice today :)

“Thanks Toge!! I like your outfit too! It looks very comfortable.” You rub your hands up and down his sleeves for emphasis. “Now let's go!”

You grab his hand, and drag him off to the bus stop, ignoring his protests and questions regarding your date, simply telling him it’s a surprise for a reason.

After a short bus ride filled with mock bickering and laughter, you pull him off at your stop and wait for him to realize where you are.

The aquarium?? He waves his phone in your face, looking at you questioningly. How did you know?

You wink at him. “I have my ways. Now, do you want to go in, or not?”

His eyes widen, and he nods in excitement as he grabs your hand and tugs you along. After giving the lady at the booth your tickets, you let him take charge, as he clearly  was well acquainted with the place. Pulling you along, he chattered away excitedly via his phone, spewing random facts left and right.

For example at the shark exhibit:

Did you know that sharks are covered with little teeth called dermal denticles?? That’s why their skin feels like sandpaper!

He pressed his hand to the glass separating him from the shark with excitement in his eyes, as if he were imagining what it would feel like to pet one. You watched him, fascinated with this new side of him you were discovering.

At the octopus tank:

Did you know that having sex gives male octopi dementia? Imagine if humans were like that, it’d be hysterical

You shake your head as he giggles to himself, and let him guide you to the next exhibit.

Finally, the two of you take a break, buying lunch and sitting on a bench to eat. You observe the happiness on his face as he uses his fries to draw in his ketchup, positive the aquarium was the right choice. Sending Yuuta a silent thank you, you begin eating your own lunch.

The two of you sit in comfortable silence for a few minutes, leaning against each other as you eat before you speak.

“It’s really cool that you know so much about the ocean and sea creatures, and it’s adorable how excited you get when you see them, but…I don’t exactly know how to say this, but why sea creatures? What got you so into them?”

Thoughtfully, Inumaki takes another bite of his sandwich before setting it down and grabbing his phone after wiping his hands. He types for a few minutes, pausing occasionally to delete a sentence and rewrite it. After what feels like forever, he scrolls back to the top, reads what he wrote, and hands you the phone.

I guess it’s probably because of my cursed technique. There’s not really much sound underwater, you know, but all of these creatures can still communicate. Like, did you know that lobsters pee out of their eyes, and that they pee on each other to communicate? Sure, it’s gross, and I can’t just go around peeing on people if I want to tell them something, but somehow it made me feel less alone. So every time I was frustrated or annoyed, because I couldn't speak, I went and learned something about sea creatures instead of feeling sorry for myself.

As you read, your heart hurt for him, but at the same time you were glad that he had found an outlet for his negative feelings. Handing him the phone back, you pulled him into a hug.

“I think it’s great that you found such a positive way of coping when you felt insecure, but I’m sorry you ever felt that way. I wish you had told me about it sooner, and I wish I had taken you to the aquarium before this.”

He pulled away, and you didn’t need anything typed out to read the vulnerability in his eyes.  “I don’t think you’re weird for loving sea creatures at all, and I don’t care that you can’t talk. I understand what matters, so you don’t need to use your words. And, if you’re okay with it, I would love to keep coming back here so you can teach me more about sea creatures. I want to know all sides of you, Toge. There’s not a single part of you I don’t love. So, let’s come back next weekend, what do you say?”

He nodded, and pulled you back into a hug. Nestling into his arms, you soaked up his warmth, feeling his love in his embrace. Because that was enough for the two of you to communicate.

All you needed was each other.

[devilsandwings]

Part 4 Turcotte sister AU Masterlist

11/1/22

liked by nolan_moyle, jamie.drysdale, mbeniers10, mackie.samo…

yourusername: brother appreciation post because I love my brother so much… no other reason

View comments…

_alexturcotte: I love you too? What’s this for? —>yourusername: nothing 🙃

jackhughes: I’ve known you for how many years?? I’ve never seen you be nice to him… —>yourusername: What I’m not allowed to be nice to my favorite brother? —>jackhughes: no. You are not. —> mattboldy: Favorite??? Remember when you pushed him into a pool fully clothed because he “looked at you funny”?

fan: aww they’re so cuteee

_quinnhughes: What is happening —> trevorzegras: RETWEET! —> _quinnhughes: go away

fan: all the arguing in the comments 😭

trevorzegras: little Turc being nice to big Turc? —>yourusername: literally only 12 minutes younger than him. —> _alexturcotte: 12 WHOLE minutes

lhughes_06: This is very unsettling —> edwards.73: Yea bring back mean Y/N!! —> markestapa: MEAN Y/N! MEAN Y/N! 🐐

dylanduke25: a brother is a man or boy in relation to other sons and daughters of his parents

colecaufield: I’m expecting an announcement that will piss him off… —>yourusername: WILL YOU SHUSH. Never telling you anything again.

bsf2: 😍 ahooga —>yourusername: get THE FUCK away from my brother right now

owenpower_: I’m gone one summer and you change personalities?? —>yourusername: Yep! Lobotomy at Claire’s! 🧠

Thombordeleau: Idk what’s going on in Michigan since I left and I don’t wanna know… —>yourusername: come back ☹️ I need to practice French

brendan.brisson: Did you die and come back to life? Why are you being nice to him?

11/2/22

liked by kandre.miller, tyler__duke25, zachwerenski…

yourusername: been busy lately…

view comments…

bsf1: OMG A SOFT LAUNCH??? —>yourusername: is that what’s it called… had no idea…

_alexturcotte: So this is what that post was for 😐 WTF

bsf2: so now that you have a bf… —> yourusername: NO YOU CANNOT DATE ALEX GO AWAY —> trevorzegras: Can I date Alex? —> yourusername: I’d prefer if you didn’t

_alexturcotte: WHO IS HE?? DO I KNOW HIM? —>yourusername: no comment —> _alexturcotte: What.

trevorzegras: Who is he? 🔨 —> yourusername: I’ll tell you after I tell Quinner

rutgermcgroarty: Omg I thought we were gonna keep our relationship secret 🤭 —> yourusername: I’m gonna block you and don’t use that emoji anymore

mattboldy: only took him four years… —> yourusername: Matthew shush —> _alexturcotte: FOUR YEARS? Did he go to high school with us??? YOU TOLD MATT??

adamfantilli: when do I get to meet this man? —> yourusername: When he comes to play the red wings ig —>_alexturcotte: SO HE PLAYS HOCKEY 100%????

colecaufield: I know who he is! —> _alexturcotte: WHO TELL ME RN —> colecaufield: its me. We’ve been dating for seven years. She’s the love of my life —> _alexturcotte: just tell me who it is Cole

jackhughes: Well now I wanna know who this is —> yourusername: no, you’ll tell Alex

lhughes.06: still can’t believe HE bagged you —> yourusername: he is very nice TO ME ☹️

_owenpower: You guys are cute ig —> yourusername: thank you giraffe —> _alexturcotte: Why does HE know?? —> yourusername: We’re besties 😒

mbeniers10: Do I know him ???????? —> yourusername: not from college…. —>_alexturcotte: What does that mean WHAT DOES THAT MEAN

_quinnhughes: interesting

markestapa: Wait a minute… —> yourusername: He’s not a Wolverine calm down (nor was he) —> edwards.73: So he’s not in college anymore?? —> yourusername: nope

bsf1: stop messing w these poor boys 😭 —> yourusername: well one of them is lying… —> _alexturcotte: So he’s in the comments? —> yourusername: Maybeeee

Next part will be coming out soon, I don’t have to work for a few days. Ty for all the love. My requests are open!!

[starsandhughes]

Penalty Box Series— Shoulder Check Showcase Edition

photo credits via instagram by _msfilms, henchcliffe_media, and greghorowitzphoto! all accounts are public dw! look at the tagged photos of the shoulder check on insta for more pics and the videos i took screenshots of!

22-23 Season & Summer Masterlist

p.s. kreider is in this bc it makes sense… sue me. tw to non rangers fans on him ig??

this is a long one to make up for all my short ones recently <3 (lie i just couldn’t shut up)

yourusername

liked by trevorzegras, shattdeuces, and 11,469 others

yourusername “the shoulder signifies something very important. it’s a commitment to reaching out, checking in, making sure everybody is okay. it’s a small gesture with a very big impact— the impact being that kindness is cool.”

on august 3rd, trevor participated in the shoulder check showcase for the HT40 foundation post being drafted first overall for said showcase!

he was captain of team moulson (the black jerseys!), scored the eighth goal for the team with a pass from my good friend nesty! the fifth slide is his celly where the damn fool kissed his stick. (this was post him failing at the michigan about nine million times) (it’s your signature move, babe. get it together.)

🚨he also committed the only crime of the night!🚨(the refs didn’t penalize him and i’m guessing that was just to keep the fast pace going) (the crowd had other opinions) (so did i) what was the crime? HE TRIPPED CHRIS KREIDER! aka his summer training partner! don’t worry though! he was belittled at dinner with chris and i AND i made him sit in the bathroom for two minutes to account for his crimes<3

sorry you lost in a shootout, my love! but you missed two shootout goals so this is all your fault, captain!

thank you, father zegras, for being a founding board members for the HT40 foundation and being a huge part in this cause. as someone who has struggled in the past, the work that this foundation does really means a lot to me.

p.s. i loved seeing shatty/mom, nesty, sonny, and spencer! i’ve missed you guys! mwah!

remember besties: reach out, check in, and make contact. because kindness is a contact sport🩵

tagged trevorzegras and theshouldercheck

view all 433 comments

trevorzegras i’m so proud of you for all that you’ve overcome❤️ i love you, forever

yourusername i love you, always, z-baby❤️ (except when you make me cry like rn ihy)

trevorzegras i’m not taking it back! p.s. tackling me for a hug is not what was meant!

yourusername kindness is a contact sport and i chose football <3

trevorzegras can’t you choose any other sport?

yourusername i could choose water polo and drown you out of love

trevorzegras football it is!

yourusername kisses can be my field goals!

trevorzegras what about your two point conversions?

yourusername foreplay!

jamie.drysdale @/yourusername @/trevorzegras don’t play football in front of me

_quinnhughes @/yourusername @/trevorzegras i don’t think you two gave water polo enough thought

user42 he really tripped that old man… so trevor zegras of him

_quinnhughes you forgot to mention that when he called me to have you let him out you turned his penalty into a five minute major

yourusername two minutes for snitching->📦

_quinnhughes you’re in stamford?

yourusername update: i facetimed quinn and screamed until he sat in the bathroom

trevorzegras update: i’m giving her a penalty for screaming

yourusername update: trevor has a penalty for attempting to give me a penalty

trevorzegras update: kisses got me out early

_quinnhughes update: i hate you both

yourusername update: quinn has a double minor

yourusername update: jacky boy has two minutes just because

jackhughes update: i’m looking for a new soulmate

user6 the fact that if the refs were calling penalties z wouldn’t been starting the season with -1 games since his last penalty 😭

jackhughes strongest girl i know alert!

yourusername pls don’t make me emotional online i have a reputation to uphold mr. “heart not boobs”

lhughes_06 @/yourusername accept that you’re basically wonder woman

yourusername @/lhughes_06 accept that miley cyrus’s song wonder woman makes that comment 1000x more emo for me

jackhughes @/yourusername accept that you’re loved (despite the speech comment)

lhughes_06 @/yourusername very loved

_quinnhughes @/yourusername extremely loved

yourusername @/jackhughes @/lhughes_06 @_quinnhughes i love you all too! now stop before i sob!

user17 tell trevor thank you for signing my brother’s forehead! he was so happy!

chriskreider19 thanks for having z pay for his crimes against me!

yourusername ur so welcome thank you for feeding us occasionally!

trevorzegras please don’t thank her this has now become a common thing

yourusername @/trevorzegras mwah!

shattdeuces i’ve missed you, daughter! i’ll miss your post roadies gift bags next season!

yourusername you’ll get one when you play the ducks next season! i’ll start fires to give it to you if i have to!

shattdeuces just don’t get caught!

yourusername i never do! i’m a stealthy ninja

trevorzegras @/yourusername i’ve been catching you from falling since we were sixteen i’m not sure that qualifies as “stealthy”

yourusername @/trevorzegras that’s all part of my elaborate plan to never be caught when it’s important. no one will see it coming. my clumsiness is an act.

jackhughes @/yourusername an act that started at five years old?

yourusername @/jackhughes yes!

user4 announcers before the game started: we might see trevor do the michigan in person tonight! trevor: *attempts and fails 3 times*

_alexturcotte yeah babe! it’s your signature move! get it together! @/trevorzegras

trevorzegras don’t tell me what to do

yourusername @/trevorzegras get it together!

trevorzegras @/yourusername …yes dear

_alexturcotte @/trevorzegras I’VE KNOWN YOU LONGER DO I MEAN NOTHING TO YOU?!

yourusername @_alexturcotte jealousy isn’t a good color on you

trevorzegras @_alexturcotte ily babe

_alexturcotte @/trevorzegras ilym babe

yourusername @/trevorzegras ten minute major for infidelity!

trevorzegras @/yourusername worth it

user66 I CAN HEAR THE FIRST PICTURE 😭

jamie.drysdale i fully expect to be tackled next time i see you ms. “i choose football”

yourusername trevor will want to ask us to get a room because I MISS YOU SO BAD JAMIE BABY

trevorzegras @/yourusername what do you plan to do?!?!

jamie.drysdale I MISS YOU TOO

yourusername I LOVE YOU WITH MY WHOLE BUTT

jamie.drysdale I LOVE YOU TOO YOU WEIRDO

trevorzegras @/yourusername WHAT DO YOU PLAN TO DO?!?!?!

yourusername @/trevorzegras commit infidelity

trevorzegras @/yourusername ten minute misconduct

yourusername @/trevorzegras worth it

jamie.drysdale @/trevorzegras technically she was my wife first

trevorzegras @/jamie.drysdale ejected from the game

yourusername @/trevorzegras hold up you can commit infidelity and i can’t?!

trevorzegras @/yourusername correct

yourusername @/trevorzegras misogyny at its finest. you’re kicked out of our mojo dojo casa house.

jamie.drysdale @/trevorzegras ejected? nah. evicted.

trevorzegras update: i’m now homeless

_quinnhughes @/trevorzegras you’re not living with me this time

user97 this game just made me miss hockey more

slknight35 you wouldn’t ever give me a penalty right?

yourusername never. you and coley can do no wrong ever. and if you do, i’ll cover it up or take the fall. i’ll kill for you. i’ll sell trevor. i love you.

slknight35 i forgot that you’re so violently endearing😂 i love you too

jackhughes @/slknight35 she’s gotten worse since high school

colecaufield @/yourusername i love you best friend number two!

slknight35 @/jackhughes that’s terrifying

yourusername @/slkight35 yes i am <3

yourusername @/colecaufield I AIN’T GONNA EVER STOP LOVING YOU B(est) (fr)I(end) (number) T(wo) CH

colecaufield @/yourusername you ain’t slick

jackhughes @/yourusername but you are cringe

yourusername @/jackhughes bitch <3

yourusername in hopes that this comes up as a top comment for someone: you are all so loved. every single one of you. thank you for all the support that you give me, the boys, and to all the other teams, players, and their families that you share your love to. check in on your friends. even the ones that always seem to be the happiest person around. spread love, spread hope, and spread kindness🩵 mwah!

[breadbrobin]

the bet

part one.

cedric diggory x reader — harry potter

[fem!best friend reader]

summary: you could turn down many things. good, romantic advances, friendship. but you could never turn down a good bet

warnings: quite a lot of swearing, betting/gambling, GOD they’re so in love it’s stupid, minor character death (sort of???), i think i’m a comedian (i’m not), switched from an x oc story so might have a few mistakes oops

word count: 1.1k

(this is the x reader version of this story! i figured i might as well put it out there. why not, ig? anyway this story is kinda old now but i love it sm it’s so silly and fun so enjoy!!)

(i’ll be posting part two and three anyway but lmk if you want them!)

part two

part three

—————————————

The Inciting Incident

It all started when Lizzie Crawford entered the bathroom.

“God, Liz, do you ever knock?” You asked, mostly unfazed. You were used to her friend bursting in unannounced almost every time you were showering.

“No,” Lizzie said, perching on the edge of the closed toilet and picking at her chipped nail polish. “Now, I have a proposition for you.”

You poked your head around the opaque shower curtain. “Oh?”

She hummed absently, running her hand through her hair. “So you know how Diggory’s spending some of the summer with you, and then you don’t live that far away so you’ll probably be in each other’s pockets all break?”

“Uh… yes? Obviously, I know that? Why does that matter?”

“Well, I’ll bet you twenty galleons that you’ll get some action with him over the holidays.”

You turned the shower off and peeked around the shower curtain at your friend. “Come again?”

“I bet you twenty galleons that you’ll get some with Diggory over the holidays.”

“He’s my friend.”

“And? Do we have a deal?”

You paused, considering your options. On one hand, you knew you didn’t have feelings for Cedric. On the other, it felt wrong to take a bet like that. Finally, your lack of moral compass won. “Fine. We have a deal.”

“Great! I can’t wait to be twenty galleons richer.”

“Yeah,” you laughed, turning the shower on again and letting the water run through your hair. “Keep dreaming, Liz.”

“What are the conditions?” Camilla Maquez asked, leaning across the table at dinner.

“Conditions?” you asked, buttering a bread roll and handing it to her.

“Yeah, like, what constitutes as ‘getting some’,” she used quotation marks. “Because you two are so affectionate anyway, so Liz, you need to specify.”

You rolled your eyes and pulled a face at your friend.

“No, she’s right,” Lizzie cut in. “Kissing? That counts.”

“Only lips though right?” you clarified.

“Yes, babes. Holding hands romantically counts. Gazing lovingly into each other’s eyes.” she hummed in thought. “Hugs with romantic context.”

Camilla snorted into her bread. When the other two shot her a confused look, she raised her hands. “It’s funny because they do all of this anyway.”

“Not romantically,” you pointed out.

“Mhm,” she smirked.

“Piss off.”

“Anyway,” Lizzie continued. “Legs. Anything to do with legs. Touching your leg with his hand or leg or anything romantically.”

“Mm, that’s sexy stuff,” Camilla mocked.

“Like I said, piss off.”

“Obviously sex.”

“Liz!”

“Which you probably won’t do, but I need to keep my options open here.” she rectified.

“I have a bet myself,” Camilla spoke up again.

You sighed. “Yes?”

“Not with you.” she waved you off. “Five galleons says Diggory makes the first move.”

“That is not fair. We all know Y/N’s a pussy.”

“Hey!”

Lizzie laughed. “Just speaking the truth, hun. Oh! Pet names, but like, meaningfully, counts.”

“Are you taking my action, Liz?” Camilla implored, sticking her hand out.

She shook her head. “I guess so. You better prove me doubly right, Y/N!”

“Not planning on it,” you sang quietly, returning to your dinner.

The Cow Situation

Before you knew it, the school year was over.

You woke up around midday, that first day back, and stared at the ceiling, relishing in the silence that surrounded you. The birds chirped outside you window and a thin ray of sunlight peeked through the tan curtains, leaving a golden line across your body and room.

With a sigh, you rolled out of bed and rubbed her eyes. Your hair was a tangled mess around the back of your head, but you simply pulled it into a loose bun and headed downstairs.

A note sat on the kitchen counter.

Taken the dog for a walk, be back around 1:30. Hopefully you’ll be up by then…

Love, Mum

You smiled softly and put two pieces of bread in the toaster.

You leaned against the counter and stared out into the yard. A few chickens pecked and scratched the dusty ground and a pair of cows grazed in the field behind them. A small girl sat on the trampoline, not bouncing.

You frowned as you opened the door and walked over, scaring a chicken out of her way.

“Hey, Little C,” you called. “What’s up?”

Cordelia Ridge, your nine year old sister looked over her shoulder and looked back. “Hi.”

Your smile fell from your face and you climbed up onto the trampoline beside her. “Uh oh. What’s going on, Cords?”

“Mummy says Diedre is sick,” she pointed at the black and white cow.

“Sweetie, Diedre’s always getting sick.” you sighed. “Shoddiest immune system I’ve ever seen. And I’ve seen you.” you poked her side, enticing a giggle out of the girl.

“So she’s gonna be okay?”

“Of course. It’s Diedre. She’s always pulled through before. Why not now?”

They were holding a funeral for Diedre the cow.

Cordelia was absolutely beside herself. You stood behind her, a hand on her shoulder, the other hand holding a bouquet of long grasses, hand picked and arranged by Cordelia that morning.

It was a dry day, and the sun was shining, and Cordelia was glaring up at it like it was personally offending her.

“Don’t look at the sun, Little C. You’ll go blind,” you chided, pulling your sunglasses off and slipping them on your sister’s face.

“Maybe I want to,” she sniffed. “Maybe I deserve it.”

Your face contorted in confusion. “What?”

“I should have realised sooner,” she wept. “I should have given her the love she deserved.”

You stared down at your younger sister, whose bottom lip was wobbling precariously. You crouched down and tucked her wispy hair behind her ear. “Listen to me, Cordelia. There was nothing you could’ve done. The animal doctor said that it was just time for her to go. Like Grandma.”

That apparently did not help.

The floodgates opened and the sunglasses fell off. Cordelia planted her face in your shoulder and wailed.

As the young girl cried, your eyes caught onto two tall figures walking towards the family.

Your mum smiled softly at you before walking over to the people.

The larger of the two hugged her and she led them over to you and Cordelia.

You saw it was Cedric and waved slightly.

He raised his brows at the crying girl you held before crouching down beside her and tapping Cordelia’s shoulder.

“Hey, Dells.” he said quietly, making her sobs quieten and her head turn towards him. “I’m sorry for your loss.”

She sniffled once, then twice, and detached herself from you. You breathed a sigh of relief, believing the worst to be over, when the nine-year-old launched herself onto Cedric, crying into his black shirt.

He shot you a small smile, reaching out and patting your knee gently as he comforted her sobbing sister.

Your stomach lurched.

That should have been your first sign.

[formulaa-1]

Instagram au 🥂 P.G

fem!influencer!reader x pierre gasly

fans suspect that you and pierre are dating. are they correct? (soft launch Ig ? )

y/nusername

y/nusername: summer vs winter ☀️❄️

Liked by pierregasly and 98,367 others

view all 368 comments

alphatauri10_: Liked by pierre gasly

fan10: pierre liked ? tf? WAIT-

alpineobsessed: THE PICTURES TOO. WHAT IF THEY’RE A THING???

fan10: OH EM GEE😮😩😍

yourbestiesuser: enjoy you two 😉

Liked by y/nusername

user33: TWO???

pierregasly

pierregasly: winter vs summer ❄️☀️

Liked by y/nusername and 248,279 others

view all 12,388 comments

gasly_fan: WHOS THE GIRL?

fan278: I think it’s @ y/nusername

10obsessedpg: erm!!!!! when did this happen?

pierreeeee_gaslyy: GUYS! I’m positive that this is y/nusername! they follow eachother and pierre liked he recent post and they have matching captions but like vice versa!!! I think they’re soft launching😍😩

user278: girl tysm for feeding us 😍

hater37: Ofc she’s an influencer. she’s just using him for 5 minutes of fame.

user278: 1. It has nothing to do with you 2. I’ve followed y/n for ages and met her before,she’s one of the loveliest people ever ! And she’s so open and honest about things so leave her alone 😘

gasly4ever: PREACH!!!!!!!

y/nusername

y/nusername: je t’aime ❤️

tagged: pierregasly

Liked by pierregasly,charles_leclerc and 101,277 others

view all 2,379 comments

pierregasly: je t’aime. mon amour❤️

y/nusername: mwah🫶🏼😚

pierreeeee_gaslyy: I WAS RIGHT!!!!

fanofpierregasly: OMG😍😍😍

fan378: THIS PHOTOS SO CUTE OMFG

user27: HIS COMMENT.

yourbestiesuser: awee you guys 💞💞

y/nusername: ilyyyyy💞

pierregasly

pierregasly: home is wherever you are ❤️

tagged: y/nusername

Liked by y/nusername, charles_leclerc and 234,379 others

view all 4,529 comments

y/nusername: pierreeeeee🥲

❤️Liked by pierregasly

gasly_fan10: SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP RN

user99: caption.

alpinegasly: new wag 😍😍

taurialphafann: OMFGGG😍😮she’s so pretty🫶🏼 I can’t wait to see her round the paddock😫

Authors note- hey guys ! I hope you enjoy this😉 I’m still very busy at the moment so i might not be posting again for a few days but im trying my hardest to post for you guys :) feel free to keep sending requests in ! And I’ll get round to them asap ❤️

[twirlymarimo]

since you've read a lot of zs fics, could you recommend some? like specifically ones that you think are underrated 👀

hi! this ask is so exciting to me, thanks for sending! i’m fairly new to the zs fandom but been reading fics for about 8-9 months straight so yes haha you could say i’ve read a lot 😆

to preface my recos, i like zsz so i dont mind anything 💚💛

anyway, here’s my list of underrated fics (underrated for me is like under 500 kudos and please mind the tags on some of them):

1. him by lostmathmajor - one of my first parenting au fics and i think about this fic from time to time. it's incomplete sadly but i'll wait for the author to update forever! what i love about it is how you feel zoro's desperation and pining for sanji through his actions and it extends to sanji's daughter. ugh you just have to read it.

2. at last, i see the light by anxietyismymoralcompass - tangled au! this was such a good adaptation of my fave disney princess movie <3

3. never grow a wishbone by peacesigndisasterbi - set post laughtale where sanji and zoro reaches their goal. i loved the angst and yearning in this plus the fantasy plot was so good too!

4. a sip of sunlight by greenyogurtelephant - such a cute little oneshot. very summer-y, i read it recently when i was in the mood for something bright. i imagined like an italian countryside or some wine country areas in northern california.

5. stuck in your throat by fruityumbrella - val writes one of the best dialogues ugghhhh read everything they write!!!

6. let's go to bed by fantasmagorial - so soft and fluffy....very comforting. i read this when i was having trouble sleeping lmao

7. i got this feeling by harubo - i know, this author is very popular in the fandom but this one fic of theirs is not as popular i think. i really loved it cause i have a pet as well and used to run an IG page for him so i related hahah

8. tin lover by riotoftime & aevv - ongoing, im kinda shy to add this but i am hooked....the writing style and dialogue are so good and distinct because each character is developed/written by different authors!

i unfortunately don't have an ao3 account so i've lost most of the fics i've read but i've learned to keep track now! if anybody has any underrated fic recs as well, feel free to add!