#also debating who to romance

[llamagirl28]

Another BG3-related ask: who would the BoC ROs pursue if they’re playing BG3? 👀

Oooh fun!

Elaine - Karlach

Isac - Lae'zel

Sofie - Astarion

Agravain - Shadowheart

Gawain - Wyll

Galahad - Shadowheart

Nimue - Astarion

This is more of, who would they pursue on a first playthrough because all of them would take an interest in multiple characters lol

[musclesandhammering]

People Loki canonically had A Thing™️ with (according to me):

-Sif (the series composer lowkey confirmed they had a night together before the hair cutting incident)

-Fandral (we all saw what we saw in T1)

-Theo Bell (I consider LWML to be partially canon & Loki having a thing with a human guy who he left on earth & was probably dead by the time he came back… definitely vibes w Loki’s attitude toward mortal lifespans in the movies.)

-The Grandmaster (no way he got out of gladiatorial slave duty just by telling jokes, plus the winky scene like come on now)

-the flight attendant from 1x1 (they were feeling each other so hard. & he told her he’d see her again)

-Lorelei (best one on the list tbh. She escaped using his secret pathways. She’s an enchantress that’s not his multiversal twin & is actually rly interesting. It’s all there.)

-Amora (also from LWML. Yes she’s probably Lorelei’s sister. No idgaf. Sleeping with an ex situationship’s sister isn’t exactly smth I’d put past him)

-Sigurd (he doesn’t exist in the mcu but the chemistry in AoA was so strong it’s transcended mediums. He’s Loki’s ex in the mcu, they just haven’t mentioned him yet shhhh)

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

obsessed with their different reactions to being called starcrossed lovers

[victorxaxvale]

do people know that crying on twitter won't stop people from pirating stuff?

[plutonianeris]

mars in synastry

“promise me you wont regret me like the tattoos on my skin”

Mars in the 1st house

Okay, we know this placement can be hot as fuck. When someone’s Mars lands in your 1st house, there’s an instant physical attraction—it’s like they can’t help but notice you. And honestly, you probably feel it too. They might push you to be more confident or take action, which can feel pretty exciting. Romantically, there’s chemistry here for sure, but it can also get intense. They might come on strong, and while that can be thrilling at first, it might feel like they’re always “on” around you. Basically, it’s like that person who keeps finding ways to touch your arm while talking to you (it’s cute, but there’s no ignoring it).

Mars in the 2nd house

This one brings the heat to your sense of security and values. When Mars is in your 2nd house, the Mars person could make you feel like you need to go after what you want…whether it’s in love, money, or stability. In a romantic sense, they might encourage you to feel more confident in what you bring to the table, or there might be some tension over how you both approach things like money and possessions. It can be sexy in that “we’re building something together” kind of way, but if not aligned, it might turn into a debate over who’s paying for dinner. Romance here might look like feeling secure together, but it’s also about who’s got control of the resources.

Mars in the 3rd house

When Mars shows up in your 3rd house, there’s a lot of talking, texting, and flirting..This is because communication is key here. You two probably have that vibe where you challenge each other in conversation, and that banter can be really attractive. There’s a mental connection that keeps things interesting. Romantically, this can make for some spicy debates and flirty teasing. But, on the flip side, they might sometimes come off as a little too argumentative or opinionated. Think of it as the couple that loves to debate random stuff over dinner but can laugh about it later.

Mars in the 4th house

This one goes deep. Mars in your 4th house means the Mars person is stirring up your emotional identity… its all about your sense of home and security. In a relationship, this can feel intimate and passionate, like they’re pushing you to be more vulnerable or open up emotionally. They might motivate you to make moves on the home front, like making your space more comfortable or secure. Romantically, it can feel like they’re hitting you right in the feels, for better or worse. The connection here is super personal, and they might bring up feelings or issues you didn’t even know were still there. It can be deeply romantic if you’re ready to dive into that emotional space, but if not, it might feel like they’re a little too close to your personal baggage.

Mars in the 5th house

Alright, this is one of my favorites. The 5th house is all about creativity, fun, and romance, so when someone’s Mars lands here, there’s a playful, flirty energy. Think: date nights that turn into spontaneous adventures. The Mars person will likely bring out your inner child! its lots of laughter, teasing, and showing off to impress one another. Romantically, there’s definitely chemistry, and the attraction can feel like fireworks. The only thing to watch out for is if things get too competitive. Like, who’s planning the next date, or who’s trying harder to be the “fun” one in the relationship. But overall, this is where romance feels exciting and alive.

Mars in the 6th house

Okay, this is where things get a bit more practical, but it can still be romantic in a different way. The 6th house rules day-to-day life, routines, and work. So, when someone’s Mars is in your 6th house, they might push you to get your life together (or at least organize your room and eat that healthy meal). They could inspire you to be more productive, which can be great, but they might also come across as a little bossy. Romantically, it’s less about grand gestures and more about showing up for each other in the little things. Like, they’ll help you run errands or motivate you to hit the gym. It’s the “let’s build a life together” vibe, which can be super grounding. Just make sure it doesn’t turn into one of you feeling like the other’s personal assistant.

Mars in the 7th house

This is big for relationships. The 7th house is all about partnerships, so when someone’s Mars lands here, they’re bringing a lot of passion to the connection. You’re going to feel their drive to be in a relationship with you, and they might be the one pushing for more commitment or taking things to the next level. Romantically, this placement can feel like they’re pulling you closer, making you feel seen and desired. But because Mars is also about action and sometimes conflict, there could be moments where the passion turns into tension. Like, “Are we fighting or flirting right now?” vibes. Still, this placement can definitely amp up the romantic energy between you two. With unrequited love, the house person could feel uncomfortable or feel like they’re being “chased” by the mars person.

Mars in the 8th house

This one’s intense and honestly there is no way around it. The 8th house rules intimacy, shared resources, and deep transformation, so Mars here brings a magnetic pull. There’s definitely a lot of chemistry and physical attraction, but it’s more than just surface-level. The Mars person might push you to confront things you’ve kept hidden or make you feel vulnerable in a way that’s both exciting and a little scary. Romantically, this can lead to deep emotional (and physical) connection, but it also might stir up control issues or jealousy. It’s like, “We’re either all in or we’re not doing this at all.” If you’re down for intensity, this can be a transformative relationship. But yeah, expect it to be passionate and a little wild at times.

Mars in the 9th house

When someone’s Mars is in your 9th house, they’re probably making you think bigger and pushing you out of your comfort zone. The 9th house is all about adventure, travel, and expanding your mind, so romantically, this feels like they’re encouraging you to explore new things (whether it’s ideas, places, or experiences). You two might bond over shared beliefs or a mutual love for adventure. Romantically, this can feel like the kind of relationship where you’re always learning something new from each other. It’s spontaneous, fun, and full of energy. Just be mindful if you both get too caught up in the “bigger picture” and forget about the day-to-day connection. It’s a whirlwind romance, for sure.

Mars in the 10th house

Here’s where things get a little more public. The 10th house rules career, status, and public life, so when Mars lands here, there’s a focus on ambition. The Mars person might push you toward your career goals or make you feel like you need to step up your game. Romantically, this could feel like you’re that power couple.. its where people see you and think, “They’ve got their shit together.” There’s a mutual drive to succeed, but the downside is, it might feel like the relationship is more focused on achieving things rather than just enjoying each other’s company. It’s great for building something solid together, but just make sure you’re both not too focused on the hustle.

Mars in the 11th house

This one’s all about friendship and shared ideals. The 11th house rules social circles and big-picture dreams, so Mars here makes the connection feel like you’re not just lovers, but also best friends. The Mars person might inspire you to chase your goals or get involved in something bigger than yourselves (whether that’s a shared hobby or a cause you both care about). Romantically, this placement brings a laid-back, “we’re in this together” vibe. It’s the type of relationship where you can hang out as a couple but also be comfortable in group settings. The only potential downside is if one of you is more focused on the social side of things and the other wants more alone time. But overall, it’s a great mix of friendship and romance.

Mars in the 12th house

Okay, this one can be a bit tricky. The 12th house is all about the unconscious, hidden things, and spirituality. When Mars lands here, the attraction might not be obvious at first (it could feel more like a subtle, behind-the-scenes kind of pull). There’s a lot of mystery in this placement, and the Mars person might stir up things you didn’t even know you were feeling. Romantically, it can be super intimate, but in a quiet way, like you two just get each other without needing to say much. But, the downside is, it can also bring up hidden fears or insecurities. It’s a relationship that feels like it’s operating on a deeper level, which can be magical if you’re both on the same page, but confusing if you’re not. It’s all about trusting the connection without needing everything out in the open.

[true-bluesargent]

BECKY ALBERTALLI ISNT STRAIGHT!!!! i need you all to know ok. simon vs the homosapiens agenda was not written by a straight author!!! she is bi!!!! it IS a really good queer romance but it is in fact written by a queer person. this has been a psa

Real HARD sci-fi is never queer A Memory Called Empire, Ninefox Gambit, Chrome, The Stars are Legion, the long way to a small angry planet, The Luminous Dead, Gideon the Ninth

High FANTASY is never queer Captive Prince, Prince of the Sorrows, In the Ravenous Dark, Gideon the Ninth, The High King's Golden Tongue, In the Vanisher's Palace, Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, The Black Tides of Heaven, The Four Profound Weaves

It's impossible for a straight person to write a really good queer romance Simon Versus the Homo Sapiens Agenda

All queer novels are so SERIOUS none of them are bust-a-gut FUNNY Monstrous Regiment, Red White and Royal Blue, The Last Sun, Boyfriend Material, Gideon the Ninth, Check Please!, One Last Stop, I Kissed Shara Wheeler

Ghosts are my jam Elatsoe, Black Water Sister, Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation

Look I just read fanfic I don't like the way novels read I'd read novels if they made me feel like fanfic does Winter's Orbit, The Last Sun, Prince of the Sorrows, Grandmaster of Demonic Cultivation, In The Court of the Nameless Queen, Hunger Pangs, Simon Versus the Homo Sapiens Agenda, The High King's Golden Tongue, Red White and Royal Blue, Check Please!, Boyfriend Material, Cinderella is Dead

[stressforu]

♯ itoshi rin — what he does

started making bllk fics today >:) , kinda new to the fandom since I just started reading the manga after the anime

itoshi rin x gn!reader

fluff, no warnings

home page ...

ITOSHI RIN acts cold, and he grumbles when you try to cup his cheeks when he's cold. he sighs when you eat his favorite food which he stored in the refrigerator the other day, and the way he'd roll his eyes when you'd try to show pda in public.

(hey, eating his favorite food is debatable!)

though he never meant it that way, he would get all jittery and nervous that he'd try to put up a cold facade whenever you would cup his cheeks. and he also never meant it in a bad way when he doesn't like to show pda, he's a guy who would rather keep you all to himself !! (you might not know but rin secretly boasts you to his private insta with all his dick teammates close friends.)

he would often try to put up that cold image, but his walls crumble when you're with him. he becomes soft to the point he would watch your sappy romance movies just so he can cuddle you.

you'd never notice this but, he keeps a special album solely just for you in his gallery !! he tries to listen to your music tastes, and tries to learn your interests just so he can talk about it with you !! (he'd probably listen to your gossips when you're with him, he feels like your enemy is his enemy.)

" you know that girl i was talking about last night, yeah? well she got pregnant by her ex boyfriend. "

" ...what... that's crazy... "

okay, he might be a little crazy... but he keeps your favorite keychain in his duffel bag ! imagine an all-black duffel bag and a small pinkish keychain in the strap of his bag !

he's so downbad for you he wouldn't let you sleep without cuddling with him. your head below his chest, feeling his heart beat with the rhythm of yours.

he loves loves loves you.

did i note that he loves you to the point he'd actually wear the promise ring that he gave to you on your anniversary? not in his finger but in his necklace. he'd subconsciously dangle his fingers in his necklace whenever he's stressed or he misses you >:(

does. not. forget. important. dates

occasion or not he gives you flowers. yes, he's just that kind of man !

" ... flowers ... for you .. "

" what for rinnie? our anniversary isn't till next month. "

" just because i want to..." " just take it.. "

do not forget to reward that ice king with kisses :(( !! he loves loves loves it when you kiss him, pamper him with kisses and he would immediately turn into a full make out session with him ! be careful tho ;)

rin looks at you amid the crowd. whenever he scores? he would look at your figure cheering for him loudly, he wasn't focused on the crowd their voices were a blur, and he could only hear your shouts.

you make it all so worth it.

note : did ya'll ike it?? :333 lemme know !! my man itoshi rin sbdhshshdhdb i will probably write for him next time!!!!!!!! share ur thoughts??? :3333333

[aerithmybbgmypookiemywife]

Genshin SAGAU where GN! Reader reads a fanfic about them being a sub.

people of tevyat look in horror as a fanfic about you being a sub is released, not knowing you ARE actually a sub. not proofread. also shoutout to @/gameperson23100 (not sure how tags work here im just a tumblr noob so i just did like a twitter thing) they were in my comments on my first post about this and had an idea about a sub reader! i just expanded on it a little :))

Creator! Reader who seems so elegant yet have such an untouchable aura towards them. Everyone praises them for being so mature, for being so calm and collected towards stressfull siturations, everyone fawns over them. Just one glance from their slightly intimidating eyes has their knees trembling. The archons praise them as someone to really look up to, a true pillar of Tevyat.

When fanfictions like the Creator x Reader became popular, there was an unsaid rule that you were the dominant one in the relationship.

So imagine everyones suprise when a book from an anonymous author potraying the Creator as a sub pops up in Inazuma. Yae Miko was suprised this was published unsupervised! She shut it down but it was too late, almost all of its copies were sold! Everyone was baffled at how the author potrayed the Creator, when it came to their duties, the author wrote them perfectly but when it came to the romance between the Creator and whoever the reader is... It was a catastrophe! The Creator? Submissive?? Down on their knees?? Begging?! Getting degraded and liking it?!?!

BLASPHEMY!

People of Tevyat were conflicted at this book, everyone had divided opinions. Some saying that the Creator is a sub, while some saying they are a dom. There are a few people who suggest that the Creator may be a switch but this gets shut down by both sides. It even reached the scholars of Sumeru! With debates turning into heated arguments that escalates into fights.

The archons, except Nahida, were upset at this book as this somewhat taints your image. (although they secretly love the idea of the creator being beneath their feet) The acolytes were also divided and different opinions, with Alhaitham finding it somewhat interesting while Kaeya found it a little hilarious and treated the book like a parody. Xiao on the other hand, had the same opinion as Zhongli, the book may taint your image thus he made it his mission to hunt down the anonymous author. Itto, who got the book from a random stranger he befriended, treated the book like a sacred scripture or a guilty pleasure. He knows it's probably bad but he just can't stop reading it! Wriothesley read the book during tea time, and thought that the idea of the Creator being a sub was possible...

"And that concludes the report on Fontaine." Neuvillette concluded his report. You only hummed in response as you looked around the room. the Archons were there and some acolytes were also present in the meeting. You felt as if they have something they want to ask but is holding themselves back.

'...Is it about the book...? Fuck, why did it have to be so accurate...' you thought.

You cleared your throat, "I'm sure all of you are aware of a certain book going around." you spoke up, their minds started scrambling, thinking that you would be upset and angry that they haven't found the author yet. "Your Grace, we are all working hard to hunt down the author and imprison whoever they are." Zhongli spoke up, you shook your head.

"No need, it's... An interesting book." you told them, you cleared your throat again, trying to ease your embarrassment. That book ended on a cliff hanger too! No way in hell were you going to imprison the author after writing an accurate potrayal of you!

Everyone didn't show it in their face but they were shocked, but even more shocked at how red your ears are while you tried to keep a calm face. Did this mean that you didn't mind the potrayal of the book about you?! Or are you truly a sub?! Do you just like the book?! What is it???!! HOW IS IT INTERESTING??!!? Their minds were filled with unanswered questions.

Word spread to Tevyat really fast, and as soon as they heard that you called the book interesting, it just added more fuel in the debates about you being a sub or a dom. Like two groups in the same fandom fighting for their non canon ship! The book would still be treated like an illegal book, a guilty pleasure.

[aikastales]

burnout (jk)

𝗌𝗎𝗆𝗆𝖺𝗋𝗒: jeon jungkook asks you to pretend to be his girlfriend in order to get back at his ex-girlfriend. however, you soon realize his true intentions.

𝗉𝖺𝗂𝗋𝗂𝗇𝗀: bball player!jungkook x student journalist fem!reader

𝗀𝖾𝗇𝗋𝖾𝗌: yandere, dark romance, slow burn

total word count: 10k

PART ONE

Why was Jeon Jungkook at the Communications building? 

He had a red and white leather jacket on top of a white shirt, jeans, and his black combat boots. His long hair was a mess, which you guessed was due to his helmet, and when he saw you walking down the steps of the building, he perked up, smiled, and waved at you. 

At first, you weren’t even sure if it was you he was waving at, so you were a bit stunned, and looked over your shoulder. But then, you heard your name called by him. You and Jungkook were not friends. Sure, you exchanged friendly nods at each other whenever your paths would cross, but that was the end of it. In fact, the only reason why you even exchanged those friendly nods was because of Taehyung—your cousin who also happened to be his best friend since preschool. If it wasn’t for him, you and Jungkook would just pass by each other without so much as a glance. 

And so, it was only natural that you were confused and surprised when you saw him leaning against his motorcycle in front of your college’s building, apparently waiting for you. 

“Y/N, hey,” Jungkook greeted with a smile on his handsome face once he was near you. 

Still confused, you returned the smile, adjusting the strap of your backpack hanging over your shoulder. “Hi, Jungkook. Is everything okay?” 

He nodded. “Yeah, everything is—everything’s fine,” he said. Then, he cleared his throat. “Do you have time like right now? My treat.” He asked, his doe eyes piercing into yours. 

You could not believe what you just heard. “What?” Was all you could reply. 

Jungkook chuckled nervously, rubbing the back of his neck with his gloved hand. “I know. It’s a shock, right? Believe me, I am too, but I just really need to talk to you about something. I wouldn’t bother you if it wasn’t so important.” 

“Is it about Taehyung? Is he okay? Did he get into trouble?” You asked, alert. It was the only logical answer why Jungkook waited for you and why he wanted to talk to you. Taehyung was the only person connecting the both of you. 

Jungkook shook his head. “No, no, it’s not about Taehyung, but he’s fine. He’s in his class right now. Look,” he sighed deeply, licking his lower lip with the tip of his tongue before staring at you once more. “Yiseul, I just really need to talk to you. In private.”

You debated whether to go with him or not. This was Jeon Jungkook. Despite his tattoos, broad shoulders, piercings, and big bike—he was harmless. He was your cousin’s best friend, and even though you two weren’t friends, he looked like he needed one at the moment. Besides, you wouldn’t deny that a part of you wasn’t curious as to why he needed to talk to you. That and the fact that because you had been in love with him since you met him when you were thirteen, how could you say no to something that you had only imagined in your wildest dreams? 

“Okay. Okay, let’s go,” you agreed, heart beating rapidly. “Where are we going?” 

Jungkook’s smile widened when you agreed. “There’s a basement cafe twenty minutes from here. It’s called Seven.” 

The both of you began making your way towards his motorcycle. “Just how private is this conversation going to be?” you asked supposedly only for yourself, but accidentally, you said it out loud. 

“I guess you already have an idea on how private it needs to be considering the location,” he chuckled. “But don’t worry—I promise you’ll get home in one piece.” 

Jungkook handed you his extra helmet, and you were thankful that you didn’t wear a dress that day. After placing your backpack in front of your chest, you wore the helmet. “Can you give me a hint on what it’s about?” 

You couldn’t help it. You were curious. 

“I remember you always being curious, Y/N. Glad you haven’t changed at all,” Jungkook said, mounting his motorcycle. “In twenty minutes, you’ll know. If you ride now, you’ll know in fifteen minutes.” 

You thought he looked so attractive as he smiled and waited for you on his motorcycle. His smile was so infectious that you couldn’t help but to return it. “Alright, fine,” you say. Then, you mounted his motorcycle, placing your hands on his firm shoulders. 

“Ready?” Jungkook asked, placing his key into the ignition, briefly glancing at you. 

“Yeah, ready,” you replied. He started the engine and you held onto your backpack for dear life. You had seen Jungkook drive his motorcycle before and the only way you could describe it was fast. 

“Alright. Let’s go.” 

Jungkook drove off. 

As promised, fifteen minutes later, you arrived at Seven. It was indeed a basement cafe, secluded from the busy city streets and tucked in between fruit stands and ready-to-wear clothes inside an alley. You were the first to get off his motorcycle, taking your helmet off. Shaking your head, you took in your surroundings while Jungkook took his motorcycle garments off. 

The alley was alive with mostly elderly people buying fruits and high schoolers buying the RTWs. The tangerines stood out due to their bright color against the setting sun. You wondered when and how Jungkook came to know the place, if he frequented it, why he chose this place over all other cafes. 

“Y/N? Let’s go inside?” Jungkook asked, gesturing to you to enter the cafe first. 

You nodded, entering Seven. As a basement cafe, the first thing you noticed were the windows placed near the ceiling. A permanent sepia hue covered the entire establishment due to its yellow orange lights. The walls were painted gray, tables and chairs white. There were only a few tables and chairs, and Jungkook led the way to the one at the very back. 

He pulled the chair out of you which you thanked him for, and you sat down. Jungkook followed afterwards, placing the helmets on the table between the both of you. 

“What do you want?” He asked, pulling his chair closer to the table. 

“Honestly, I’m more curious on why you want to talk to me than have any drinks here,” you told him, placing your backpack on the floor beside your chair. 

Jungkook chuckled, leaning his back against his chair. “Alright. Should I just say it?” 

You nodded. 

“I was hoping that you’ll pretend to be my girlfriend to make Haemin jealous,” Jungkook said so casually that you were completely and utterly stunned. Did you just hear him correctly? Upon seeing your reaction, he continued, “She broke up with me a month ago, and to be honest, I saw it coming already. We were getting into a lot of meaningless fights, always finding faults in one another, and just overall, being toxic to each other. So, when she broke up with me, I did not put up a fight, and just let her be,” Jungkook scoffed, shaking his head lightly. “Then, I learned that she was seeing Han Riyeo, that fucking bastard from Yongsan, behind my back for three months, and I want to get back at her.” 

His explanation did not help you grasp what he just said previously. You were still stunned, but you managed to ask, “Why me?” 

“For reasons I still don’t know, Haemin was always jealous of you,” he confessed.

Now, that was a surprise. “What? You and I barely had any interaction.” 

“I know, but I suspect it’s because you’re there whenever I hang out with Taehyung,” Jungkook shrugged his shoulders, then ran his fingers through his hair. “So? Will you help me, Y/N?” 

“This is pretty childish, don’t you think?” you told him, eyebrows furrowed. 

Jungkook crossed his arms over his chest. “I’ll pay you. I know you need the money. Taehyung mentioned you’re saving for the deposit on this apartment you want to rent.” 

You stared at him, trying to find any trace of mischief in his eyes and body language but found none. Jungkook was serious. A part of you knew that the logical answer would be to decline his offer. It was childish, as you had told him. It was a nuisance and it would do nothing but bring problems and complications in your life. Your life was complicated enough, and you didn’t need to add Jeon Jungkook’s fake girlfriend to your list of complications. 

But this was Jeon Jungkook. The person you had been in love with since you were thirteen. The person you supported, cheered on, and loved unconditionally from afar because it was all that you could do. You would be lying if you said that you did not imagine yourself being his girlfriend—going to every game, wearing his jersey, riding his motorcycle, going on dates, taking lots of photos and videos of him, hugging, and even kissing him—because you did, countless times. You would also be lying if you didn’t think that you could love him better than Haemin ever did. 

They said love makes you do crazy things. You didn’t think that applied to you. You loved Jeon Jungkook, and you didn’t think that that love would fade anytime soon. So, even though you knew that this was pretend and paid, you said, “Okay. I’ll do it.” 

After your orders arrived, the both of you continued your conversation. 

“So, how will this work?” you asked, sipping your iced chocolate drink. 

Jungkook put up a finger, chewing the cheeseburger he ordered, and afterwards, he replied, “We act like a couple. Go on dates, post them on social media, and all that.” 

You were never someone who did things half-assed. If you were going to get paid to fake date someone, you might as well go all out. Also, perhaps, a part of you just wanted to make the most out of being Jeon Jungkook’s fake girlfriend. 

“I don’t think that would be enough to make Haemin jealous. If you really want that, we should do the things you either only did with her or promised to do with her,” you pointed out.

Jungkook nodded. “I see. You got a point.” 

“So, what are those things? The things you did for her and the things you promised to do with her?” 

He inhaled deeply, scratching the side of his nose as he thought. “Well, I pick her up everyday. Take her out on picnic dates, study with her, and I go to her recitals.” 

You nodded. “Okay. Then, you should pick me up everyday, take me out on picnic dates, study with me, and well, I don’t really do any recitals.” 

“Alright. I’ll do that,” Jungkook grinned. “As for the things I promised to do with her—the first thing that popped in my mind was that I promised I’ll take her to my brother’s wedding.” 

“We shouldn’t involve our families in this. Me being Taehyung’s cousin is complicated enough,” you remarked. 

“Okay. How about this? We made plans to go out of town during winter break. Do you wanna do that?” 

“Where?” 

“My sister-in-law runs a small resort in Busan. It’s by the beach,” 

You pressed your lips together, nodding. “Okay. That could work.”

“For my part, you have to go to my games. That’s pretty much all you have to do, and of course, the dates.” 

“That’s already a given,” you told him. “I’m assigned to cover your games this season.” 

“Right. You are the News editor of the Times. I’m honored,” Jungkook placed a hand on his chest, bowing his head at you. 

You chuckled, shaking your head. “I have a question.” 

“Go for it.” 

“What will happen when Haemin gets jealous? Will we “break up” and the two of you will get back together?” you asked, cautiously, but also curiously. 

“I have no plans of getting back together with her,” Jungkook answered. “But when she finally gets jealous and tells me about it, then revenge is served. I guess then we’ll break up. But don’t worry, I’ll pay you handsomely every time so you could move into that apartment of yours. It’s the least I could do after you agreed to do this with me.” 

It shouldn’t have stung the way it did. After all, this was only paid and pretend, but it did. 

“Alright,” you said. “We should shake hands on it.” 

You extended your hand toward him and Jungkook sealed the deal with his firm handshake. “Starting today, you’re my girl, Y/N.” 

You would be the first to admit that looking after Kim Taehyung was something you did out of debt of gratitude toward his parents. After your father passed away when you were only eleven years old, your mother couldn’t afford to send you to school, so his parents financed your education since then and until now that you were in college. You lived with Taehyung at the condominium they bought for him near the university and since you were on scholarship through your membership at the official student publication of Jamsil University, The Jamsil Times, they only paid for your miscellaneous fees every semester. 

Because of these, you felt like Taehyung was your responsibility. You had to take care of him, look after him, tutor him, make sure he did all his school work, attend his classes, and be there every time he asked you to. It felt like when it came to him and his parents, you couldn’t say no because if you did, you could easily lose your housing and education.

It didn’t help that Taehyung seemed to attract trouble wherever he was. He even gained a nickname for it in high school which followed him in college, “Trouble Taehyung.” You couldn’t remember the times you apologized on his behalf, woke up in the middle of the night from a call from one of his so-called friends asking if you could pick him up as he was drunk and bruised, and ensured none of his troubles reached his parents. 

Tonight was no different. 

You woke up from the sound of your phone vibrating against your desk. You didn’t realize that you had fallen asleep, studying for your upcoming midterms exam, and when you woke up, you could feel the soreness of your neck and lower back. With one eye open, your vision adjusted to the bright light coming from your phone, and saw Park Jimin’s name flashing on your screen. Immediately, you knew why he was calling you. There could only be one reason: Kim Taehyung. 

“Hello?” your voice was hoarse, groggy from your slumber. 

“Y/N? I’m sorry I woke you up, didn’t I? It’s—,” 

“Taehyung, I know. What happened this time?” you sighed deeply, rubbing your face with your free hand. “Where are you guys?” 

“He got into an argument with this guy, and well, it led to a fight. He’s bruised, bleeding, but he refuses to go to a hospital, but—,” 

“Hey! Is that Y/N? I told you not to call her, Park Jimin!” you could hear Taehyung’s voice in the background which made you sigh once more. Moments later, it was Taehyung who was on the call with you. “Y/N, sorry. Don’t worry about me. I’m fine. Jimin’s just a worry wart.” 

“Taehyung,” you were tired and it was evident in your tone. “Go to the hospital if you’re bleeding. It might get infected.” 

“I can’t,” he replied. “Mom is going to find out. It’s a small world, you know that,” his tone was low, cautious, as though he did not want anyone else hearing him. “I’m fine. I’ll put on some ointment and band-aid and I’m good.” 

You wished you didn’t give a shit about him. But you did. Whether it was out of debt of gratitude or not, you wouldn’t be able to sleep if you didn’t help him. Perhaps, you had gotten so used to it that it had become a part of you already, like a hobby, like a memory. 

“Where are you, Taehyung?” 

“Y/N, seriously, I’m—,” 

“Taehyung, just tell me where you are,” your patience was wearing thin and Taehyung knew that. 

“We’re at Jungkook’s apartment,” he muttered. 

Even the mention of his name was enough for the butterflies in your stomach to go crazy. Even by just hearing his name, your irritation seemed to slowly fade away. 

“Okay. I’ll be there in a while. I’m gonna use your car, okay?” 

“Okay. Y/N, I’m sorry,” Taehyung apologized and you could hear his sincerity. 

“Don’t be,” you told him as you stood up from your chair. “See you. I’ll hang up now.” 

Just how deep does blood run? 

You were at Jungkook’s apartment minutes later, thanks to no traffic and him only living fifteen minutes from Taehyung’s condominium. When you rang the bell to his unit, you already expected that he would be the one to answer the door. You just didn’t expect that he would be wearing gray sweatpants and a white loose muscle tee showing off his toned tattooed arm. Seeing him in that light, you couldn’t help but feel more attracted to him. Jungkook was truly a sight to see. 

“Hey,” he greeted you with a smile. “Come inside.” 

“Thanks,” you told him, entering his apartment. It was simple, neat, and smelled of vanilla. You took off your shoes by the doorway, placing a hand on the wall beside you. “Where’s Taehyung?” 

“Kitchen,” he replied behind you. “Y/N,” his hot breath fanned over your exposed neck, making you shiver. “I’ll linger around you, alright? That way, they could get a hint that something’s going on with us. Is that okay?” he whispered. 

His low tone was simply mesmerizing. “Okay,” you breathed out. Thank god you had your hand on that wall otherwise you would have literally fallen. 

“Okay,” he chuckled, and led the way to the kitchen. 

“Y/N!” Taehyung exclaimed when he saw you. He was sitting on one of the stools in the kitchen island while Jimin looked through the refrigerator. 

You gave him a tight-lipped smile and made your way toward him, placing the plastic bag you hand in your hand on the counter beside you. Taehyung jumped off the stool he was sitting on, instantly giving you a squeezing hug. He was always an affectionate boy growing up. You weren’t so you found it uncomfortable at first. But the more Taehyung did it, you got used to it. 

“Let me see your bruise,” you guided him back to the stool, and began taking out the first aid you bought along the way. The bruise wasn’t as serious as you thought it would be. You were expecting that he would have a black eye, a deep cut that would need stitches, but it was manageable by you. Jimin was overreacting, you concluded. “What happened? How did you get this?” 

As you began to clean the cut on Taehyung’s cheek, Jimin sat down across from your cousin while Jungkook made his way near you. 

“One minute I was dancing next to some girl, the next, her boyfriend landed a punch on my face. I didn’t know she had a boyfriend—she told me she was single,” Taehyung explained. 

“Didn’t know my ass,” Jimin scoffed. “Everyone knows Heejin is with Taemin. Everyone also knows that Taemin’s a crazy jealous bastard. You were just looking for trouble, as always.” 

“I was not,” your cousin retorted, throwing the medical tape you bought at his friend. 

You clicked your tongue in annoyance. “Stop it, you two,” you hissed, pressing the cotton ball a bit harder against Taehyung’s bruise. He winced. “Is that true?” you asked him. 

Taehyung didn’t answer. You sighed. 

“You knew it was wrong, and yet, you did it anyway knowing it’ll just get you in trouble,” you muttered. “Why did you do it?” 

Taehyung sighed deeply. “Because Taemin’s a piece of shit.” 

“You’re also a piece of shit,” Jimin snorted. “Both of you are the biggest pieces of shit at Jamsil.” 

“Do you wanna get punched?” 

“Let’s go right now,” 

“Hey, stop it. You’re so fucking loud,” Jungkook reprimands the two bickering men. “You already woke me up from my sleep by going here. Don’t wake up the entire fucking building.” 

Moments later, you finished tending to Taehyung’s cut. “All done. Come on, let’s go home.” 

Taehyun didn’t protest. You began to clean up your mess, placing everything back into the plastic bag. Silence filled Jungkook’s kitchen. The three of you weren’t close so there were no conversations where all of you could participate. 

“Let’s go,” you bowed your head at Jimin as a farewell which he returned. Then, your eye caught Jungkook’s gaze. You weren’t sure what to do. Fortunately, Jungkook was quick-witted. 

“I’ll walk you guys out,” he said coolly, pushing himself off of the sink he was leaning against. 

“No need. Just go back to sleep. Thanks for letting us in,” Taehyung shook his head, patting his best friend’s shoulder as he passed by him. 

“I insist,” Jungkook responded. 

“Can I stay here tonight?” Jimin asked Jungkook as he made his way out of the kitchen. 

“Yeah sure,” 

You followed Jungkook and Taehyung out of the former’s apartment. As you and your cousin slipped on your shoes, Jungkook waited outside his apartment. 

“Are you mad at me?” Taehyung asked, meeting your gaze. “I’m sorry, Y/N.” 

“I’m not mad at you,” you assured him. “But you have to stop involving and getting yourself into trouble, Tae. Sooner or later, you’ll end up getting really hurt.” 

“I will, I promise,” he smiled at you and you nodded, exiting the apartment. 

The three of you walked down the hallway; the two boys walking on your sides. You weren’t sure if Jungkook was consciously doing it, but it was making your heart pound. Whenever your fingers brushed against his, there was an electric shock that flew through your body. And as you reached the end of the hallway and in front of the elevator, and when the doors opened, Jungkook placed his hand at your lower back, gesturing you to enter the lift first. 

You looked at him, and there was a knowing smile plastered on his face that made you blush. “After you,” he said. 

You were fucking lovestruck. 

Championships cast a spell in your school. Jamsil University’s premier sport was basketball and with an all-star lineup this year—it was not even up for discussion that your university would be one of the teams playing out to become this year’s champions.

To say the least, sports were not your thing. While you understood the basics, it wasn’t something you were interested in. Your father had enrolled you in a tennis class once but after witnessing how, simply out, awful you are at the sports, he dropped the ‘I want my daughter to be athletic’ narrative he was going for. That being said, you rarely attended any of the games Jamsil athletes participated in. But seeing as you were assigned to cover the basketball games this season, you had no other choice. Besides, your “boyfriend” was playing. 

That’s how you found yourself at the gym of Jamsil, stressed as you took pictures and typed down the game on your phone. Frustrated, you sat on the bench behind you as the bell rang, signaling the end of the first half. As you read the draft on your notepad, you shook your head at the numerous times you used the word ‘tackle’—in your defense, it was all that you could see during the game. It was a particularly brutal game which made you wonder, was the game something more personal for the players? You only heard rumors, after all.

With a sigh, you made a mental note to fix the notes once you’re home. Standing up, you placed the phone inside your jeans’ back pocket and readied the Times’ camera to capture the ‘Half-time huddle’ that Bang Chan, the Sports Editor, had specifically asked you to take. As you made your way towards the basketball team, you took some shots of the audience as well as the Jamsil’s Cheerleading Team performing in the middle of the court. The blaring music and loud cheers from both schools as the cheerleaders performed filled the entire gymnasium, unconsciously making you smile. It was not everyday that you saw some sort of unity at your uni.

You focused your camera on the huddled team of Jamsil but dissatisfied, you tried another angle. Bang Chan’s words play in your mind: “The half-time huddle is one of the most important shots during these games, Y/N. The play they’re setting up will either make them or break them. Make sure you capture it.”

Then, the idea hit you. You hurriedly made your way on the other side of the team, hearing Coach Song’s booming voice telling his players the game even with all the screaming and cheers. You moved the towels and water bottles on the bench aside, then you stepped on it and placed the camera above the huddled team. Smiling, you knew you found the perfect angle. Making sure that the camera was focused, you inhaled deeply and as you were about to click the shutter button—a face turned to face the lens and a gasp escaped your lips, shocked and you felt yourself losing balance. Bracing for impact, you clutched the camera tightly against your chest and closed your eyes with one thing in mind: If this breaks, I am so screwed.

It felt like eternity as you waited for the impact. Opening your eyes, you see a pair of round brown eyes, staring at you in concern, eyebrows furrowed. Your breath hitched in your throat as realization hit you. Around your waist, you felt strong arms supporting you; hot breath fanned your face and you felt something liquid dripping on your forehead.

“Y/N, are you okay?” When he spoke, you immediately snapped back to reality and you wriggled yourself out of his grip—flustered and ground-swallow-me-up embarrassed. Your cheeks were burning as you collected yourself. “Y/N?”

It was as if the entire gymnasium had their focus on you and Jungkook. 

“Jeon, what the fuck, get back here,” Coach Song hissed.

Fuck me, you thought as you cleared your throat. “Thanks,” you whispered to him. 

Jungkook smiled—the boyishly charming smile that made you fall in love with him all those years ago. Then, he did something that made you fall in love with him all over again. 

“Wish me luck, babe,” Jungkook said before wrapping his tattooed arm around your waist and placing a kiss on your cheek. “The game’s on, Y/N. No turning back now.” 

You wished this was real. His kiss was real. But even if it wasn’t, indeed, there was no turning back now. The game had begun. 

PART TWO

As predicted and expected, Jamsil won the championship. But instead of the student body celebrating the fourth championship in a row, apparently, the majority could only talk about you and Jungkook—specifically the kiss he gave you on the cheek. You had expected this, of course. After all, Jeon Jungkook was Jamsil University’s golden boy. He was popular, smart, and overall, an exemplary student who not only excelled in his sports, but in his academics as well. Moreover, he was also the president of the photography club. 

What you didn’t expect was Taehyung lashing out at you. You expected him to be confused, baffled, in disbelief, but lashing out at you? You were confused, to say the least. Taehyung had never done it before. 

After finishing covering the basketball game, you hurriedly made your way back to the Publication Office. Once there, you took off the camera around your neck, breathing heavily. With both your hands on your table, you hung your head low, squeezing your eyes shut, and letting yourself calm down. It was during this moment that the door at the office swung open and your cousin stepped in. 

You looked at him over your shoulder and for the first time, you saw fury in his eyes. 

“You’re dating Jungkook?” He asked. “Tell me the truth.” 

With your lips pressed tightly, you nodded. Taehyung scoffed, tilting his head to the side, and shaking it in disbelief. 

“Are you fucking kidding me, Y/N? You and Jungkook?” He pressed, taking a step towards you. “When did it start? How did it start? Why are you dating him?” 

“I don’t really need to explain myself to you, Taehyung,” you told him. “Especially who I’m dating.” 

“Yes, you do. You need to explain that to me,” he retorted. 

“Why? Why do I need to explain it to you?” 

“Because you’re dating my fucking best friend and you’re my cousin!” He exclaimed, catching you off guard as you flinched. When he saw this, Taehyung’s eyes softened. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to raise my voice at you. I just—I don’t get it.” 

“What don’t you get?” you asked, turning to completely face him. “Why someone like me is with someone like him?” 

“Y/N, that’s not what I mean,” Taehyung sighed deeply. “I just feel like—like the two most important people in my life betrayed me.” 

You exhaled deeply. In a way, you could understand him. You could understand where he was coming from. But before you could respond, Jungkook appeared by the doorway of the office. 

“Don’t get mad at her, Tae, it’s my fault for not telling you first,” Jungkook said. He was still in his jersey, covered in sweat, and one hand holding a bottle of red Gatorade. There was a towel hanging around his neck. He walked towards you, and when he stood beside you, he held your hand. “I’m sorry if you feel like we betrayed you. We just wanted to find the right time to tell you.” 

“Right time,” Taehyung scoffed once more. “It didn’t look like it when you kissed her.” 

Jungkook squeezed your hand. It sent a jolt throughout your body. “What was I supposed to do? My girlfriend was there,” Jungkook’s response only riled Taehyung more. Upon seeing this, the basketball player said, “Alright, alright, I’m sorry. But there’s nothing you could do or say that could make us break up, Tae. I’m sorry but you’re just gonna have to deal with it.” 

“Can you fucking leave? I need to talk to Y/N privately,” Taehyung hissed, rolling his eyes. 

This time, you cut Jungkook before he could reply. “It’s okay, Jungkook. I’ll see you after.” You looked at your fake boyfriend, smiling at him. 

Jungkook looked like he didn’t want to leave so you squeezed his hand. He clicked his tongue, sighing. “I’ll change and meet you outside the building.” It wasn’t a question but a statement. 

You nodded and once again, he pressed his lips against your cheek, making you blush but now, out of embarrassment because your cousin was literally in front of you. Taehyung groaned, throwing his head back. “Leave, Jeon Jungkook!” He exclaimed, pulling him off of you. 

Jungkook chuckled before making his way out of the office. 

Once he was out of earshot, Taehyung stepped closer towards you. “Y/N, you’re right—who you date is not something I should mind or dictate. But you’re my cousin and I care about you and I don’t want you to get hurt. Jungkook—he’s my best friend in the world and has been since we were little. I know him. So, the two of you together—I just can’t accept it.” 

You didn’t know why you were feeling angry as the seconds passed. “We’re not asking for your blessing, Taehyung.” 

“Y/N, you don’t understand. Jungkook may be charming and all that goody two shoes shit in front of everyone, but he’s trouble. You’re only setting yourself up for a lifetime of heartbreak,” your cousin shook his head. “Please. Date whoever you want; not just Jungkook.” 

“I made up my mind, Tae,” you said, shaking your head. “I want to be with him and you can’t do anything about it. I’m gonna go home. I’m tired and exhausted. I know you’ll be going to the afterparty so please don’t get yourself into trouble. Take care, Tae.” 

“Y/N,” he called out but you didn’t respond anymore. You just packed up your things. “Y/N, please.” 

“See you at home, Tae,” you gave him a small smile before leaving the office. 

Why was he so adamant that you don’t date Jeon Jungkook? This question popped in your head as you were making your way out of the Communications building. But you erased it in your mind—Taehyung was just shocked, probably weirded out too that his best friend and cousin were dating. 

Why is he trouble? Another question propped in your mind. 

You sighed deeply. All these questions would be answered when you meet with Jungkook as you made a mental note to ask him. For now, you just wanted to rest. 

The buzzing sound of your phone vibrating against your desk woke you up from your slumber. With a groan, you sat up, stretching your arms wide, cracking your neck, and letting out a relieved sigh. You didn’t know when you fell asleep, but the last thing you remembered was fixing your planner. When you looked at the caller ID, Jungkook’s name flashed on the screen. For a moment, you were confused why he was calling you, and then it hit you. 

I’ll change and meet you outside the building. 

You quickly answered the call. “Jungkook, hey.” 

“Y/N, are you okay? I waited for you outside the Comm building, but Taehyung said you went home. I’ve been trying to reach you,” Jungkook sounded concerned, in contrast to the sound of cheering and music in the background. He must have been at the afterparty already, you concluded. 

“I’m okay,” you assured him. “I’m sorry. I was just tired so I went home. Are you at the afterparty?” 

“Yeah,” he replied. “The guys dragged me to it, but it’s not really fun. Or maybe I’m just not in the mood. I’m glad you’re okay though. I was worried.” 

Your heart fluttered yet again. 

“I’m okay. Have fun at the afterparty,” you said, rubbing your eye with your knuckle. 

“Y/N, I was hoping you could come tonight, here, at the afterparty, and start our agreement.” 

Just like that, you were reminded of reality. 

“Oh,” you replied, hoping you didn’t sound disappointed. “Um, I don’t know where that is.” 

It was common knowledge that invitations for after parties at Jamsil for championships were only through word of mouth. Not everyone was invited. The only reason you knew of the location of the last three after parties were because of, again, your cousin Taehyung. 

“It’s okay, I’ll come pick you up.” 

“I don’t know what I should wear. I don’t go to a lot of parties,” you said, playing with the loose thread on the hem of the shirt you were wearing. It was a habit of yours whenever you were nervous—you needed to play with something whether it was your necklace, earrings, rings, sleeves, etcetera. 

“It doesn’t matter. You look good in everything, Y/N. I’m serious,” Jungkook responded. “I’ll be there in fifteen minutes, okay? Don’t worry too much about what to wear. Just wear what’s comfortable.” 

“Okay. Drive safely, Jungkook.” 

When the phone call ended, you were reminded of what tonight would be, and gone were the worries about what you should wear. Tonight was going to be the night you were going to officially begin helping Jungkook take his revenge on Haemin. You felt like throwing up. 

You were hit by the reality, once again, of what this agreement was about. Jungkook wasn’t being sweet to you because he wanted to but because he needed to. He wasn’t inviting you to the afterparty because he wanted to but because he needed to. He was only talking to you because he was paying you. It was time for you to take things at face value. With that in mind, you began to change. 

True to his word, Jungkook arrived fifteen minutes later. It was a whiplash when you saw him at the door, waiting for you instead of your cousin. Wearing a white Calvin Klein shirt tucked under his washed jeans, black combat boots, and his curly hair parted in the middle, he was nothing short of beauty even in the simplicity of his attire. In one hand, he was clutching a denim jacket. 

“Hey,” he greeted as soon as you opened the door. “You look great, Y/N.” 

You suppressed the urge to smile and just nodded. Stepping outside of Taehyung’s condominium unit, you avoided his gaze. “Let’s go.” 

“Is everything okay?” he asked. 

You nodded, clutching the strap of your messenger bag. “Everything’s fine. Let’s just go. Where’s the afterparty anyway?” 

“Y/N,” Jungkook’s hand found its way gently around your wrist, stopping you on your tracks. “Seriously, what’s wrong?” 

“Nothing’s wrong, Jungkook. I just really wanna get over this,” you said with a sigh. 

“I don’t believe you,” he pointed out, still holding onto your wrist. “We don’t have to go to the afterparty if you don’t want to.” 

“No, let’s go. Otherwise, how will you make Haemin jealous?” you stated, plastering a smile on your face even though you were anything but happy. “The sooner she gets jealous, the sooner she will want to be with you again, and the sooner I’ll get my deposit, and move out from here. The sooner everyone wins.” 

There was an indescribable expression on Jungkook’s face. Although his grip on your wrist remained gentle, you could feel the tension brewing between the both of you. 

“You’re right,” he muttered after a while. “Let’s get this over with.” 

As expected, the afterparty was at a club. You hadn’t been to one but it was exactly as you expected a club to be. Packed with dancing college students, drinks everywhere, smoke in the air, suffocating you the moment you entered the establishment, blinding red, blue, green lights, and booming EDM and Top 40 hits songs blasting on the speakers. Jungkook led the way, holding your hand tightly, and you held his just as tight. You didn’t know where he was taking you, but you guessed that it was where Haemin would be. After all, she was the reason why you were here. 

So, it was a surprise when you passed by her and her friends, and toward the staircase. 

“Jungkook! Where are we going?!” you yelled over the loud music. . 

Jungkook didn’t respond, but you knew that he heard you because he pulled you closer to him. And you let him lead you because it was him. You’d let him lead you anywhere if it meant being this close to him. Because no matter what you tell yourself—that this was all fake and pretend and paid—a part of you would always, always believe that he, in some way, reciprocated your feelings sincerely. 

Jungkook passed by the people greeting him along the way until, finally, you reached the empty rooftop. Overlooking the city and its skylines, it was simply breathtaking. There were only broken benches, bottles of beers and discarded cigarette buds on the rooftop along with cracked pots of withered flowers. Here, Jungkook let go of your hand, reached for something from his denim jacket’s pocket—a pack of cigarette and lighter—and offered it to you. 

“I don’t smoke,” you simply stated. It was news to you that he smoked. You knew athletes were forbidden due to health reasons, but you weren’t also naive that you didn’t think some did. 

He nodded, picked one from the box, placed it in between his lips, lit it up, and began to smoke. You took a deep breath, and made your way toward the edge of the rooftop. Moments later, Jungkook was beside you. 

“Tell me something I don’t know about you,” he said, the smell of cigarette strong, making you nauseous. But you didn’t tell him that. 

You thought hard. Jungkook knew nothing about you besides being Taehyung’s cousin. It shouldn’t be that hard but it was, for some reason. And so, you said, “There’s really not much that you should know.” 

To which he replied, “Oh, come on, there must be something,” He nudged your side slightly, letting out a chuckle as he took a long drag. “Don’t think too hard. Just tell me the first thing that comes to your mind.” 

And so, you did. Before you knew it, you said, “I haven’t had my first kiss yet.” 

“Seriously?” Jungkook asked, but it wasn’t in the disgusted, you’re-in-your-twenties-and-yet-you-haven’t-kissed-somebody kind of way. It was more of a genuine shock. Like it was the hardest thing in the world to believe in.  

You chuckled, nodding. “I don’t know. I just feel weird about it.” 

“But were there any instances where you came close to kissing somebody?” he pressed, flicking his cigarette. 

“Of course, but when it came to it, I just couldn’t. It just didn’t feel…” you trailed off, unsure of what the right word was. 

“Right?” Jungkook suggested and you nodded. “I see.” 

“How about you?” you asked. “Tell me something I don’t know about you.” 

“I want to be somebody’s first kiss, and that somebody happens to be you.” 

He was the only one who could do it—cause your heart to do somersaults inside you while also making it beat so fast that you were afraid he would hear it. It was the way he stared at you at that moment, eyes flickering from your eyes which reflected the cityscape below you and the smoke from his cigarette to your parted lips, unsure of what to say from his revelation. 

“Do you think it’d feel right if I kiss you, Y/N?” 

And like always, your mind and heart screamed: this was Jungkook. Who else would you want to be your first kiss? Since you were thirteen, you had been in love with him. You only imagined this in your head, in your wildest dreams. 

And so, you nodded, afraid that if you spoke, no words would leave. 

Jungkook nodded too, and he crushed his cigarette on top of the edge of the rooftop. He stepped towards you, cupped your face, and for a moment, the world stood still. Closing your eyes, you waited for his lips to crash onto yours. 

And when it finally did, it was nothing that you had ever imagined. 

No sparks. 

No fireworks. 

It was simple, mundane, ordinary—it was a kiss. 

You held onto Jungkook’s wrists as he deepened the kiss, and yet, there were still none of the romantic aspects that you thought would happen during your first kiss. Even when Jungkook moved his hands from your face and around your waist, nothing. It tasted so bitter due to the mix of nicotine and beer that he had. 

But you didn’t mind. You were kissing Jeon Jungkook, your fake boyfriend, at a party, where all his peers were. And for that, your first kiss was still memorable. 

Oh, how Jeon Jungkook twisted your world. 

PART THREE

You had no recollection whatsoever of what happened last night; much less how you got back to your shared condominium unit with Taehyung. But if you were to guess, your cousin probably brought you home as you vaguely remembered him being at the afterparty—much to his chagrin that you came with his best friend. Other moments were like missing puzzle pieces. You only remembered flashes, and you groaned when you felt the throbbing in your temple became stronger. 

Usually, you could hold your liquor better than this. In fact, this was the first time, in a long while, that you could remember having a hangover. Your mother was your drinking buddy—started drinking with you when you were a junior in high school, and although she shouldn’t have done that, you didn’t mind. Your mother was a great mother. Your mother was your best friend. Your mother was a great parent. Yes, she had her shortcomings, but who didn’t? Certainly not you. You remembered the first time she asked you to try Soju, and subconsciously, it brought a smile to your face, and a low chuckle to escape your lips. You made a mental note to text her later.  

As you left your bed, there was a knock on your bedroom door. Knowing it was your cousin, you told him to come in while you fixed your bed, and looked for your phone in the process. 

“Your phone’s in your bag,” Taehyung muttered as he stepped inside your room, and leaned against the wall of the doorway with his arms crossed over his chest. “I brought you home too. Jungkook wanted to, but he rode a motorcycle, and you were wasted. It wasn’t safe.” 

You nodded in understanding. You figured out that much. Like what Taehyung said, your phone was indeed inside your bag. Quickly, you unlocked it, and checked your notifications. Some were just annoying spam emails, app notifications, and automated messages from your SIM provider, but there was one message that made your heart beat quickly due to panic that you didn’t even notice Jungkook’s message. 

“Y/N, I need to talk to you,” Taehyung said. 

“We will talk, but not right now, I’m late for my tutoring session, Tae,” you hurriedly told him as you texted your tutee that you would be late, but that you would come since it was his midterms next week. 

“Y/N, I’m serious. I still don’t approve of you and Jungkook dating.” 

You should have expected this. In the years you spent with Taehyung, you should have known that he wasn’t the type of person who could accept “no” as an answer, and not getting what he wanted when and if he wanted it. You thought it only applied to everything else in his life; apparently, it also applied to your dating life. 

“Taehyung, haven’t we gotten over this? Who I date is not yours to dictate,” you shook your head, sighing deeply as you gathered everything you needed for your quick shower. You were definitely not going to attend your tutoring session dressed from last night, and smelling like beer and nicotine. 

“Jungkook’s a piece of shit as a boyfriend, Y/N. He’s crazy possessive and he gets so fucking jealous. His charming persona is just that—a persona. I don’t want you to get hurt by him, Y/N, please.” 

The desperation in his voice was evidently obvious. When you looked at him, you were unsure of what to say. How could he say that to his own best friend? 

“If he’s like that—,” 

“He is like that,” 

“Then why are you still friends with him?” you asked, pointedly. When Taehyung couldn’t give you an answer, you nodded. “Right. I thought so. I’m going now, Tae. This conversation is over.” 

When you arrived at Jamsil’s library, you were forty five minutes late to your session with Yang Jungwon, a freshman from your program, Journalism with a major in Investigative Reporting. You found him in your usual spot, writing away on his yellow pad while nodding his head along the music he was listening to. Inhaling deeply, you made your way toward him. When you were finally near him, you tapped on his shoulder, causing him to jump a little, but when he saw you—his deep dimpled smile appeared on his face. 

Yang Jungwon was like the little brother you never had but wished you had. You felt bad for thinking that way because you had Taehyung, but as stated, looking after him felt more like a responsibility you had no other choice but to take upon. With Jungwon, even though you were paid to help him with his studies, it never felt like a responsibility to you. You enjoyed spending time with him, helping him out, and sometimes, if the conversation steered into the direction, you enjoyed your deep and meaningful conversations with him. 

You smiled back at him, and took the seat beside him, sitting on it. “I’m so sorry I’m late, Jungwon. You can tell your mom that she doesn’t need to pay me for this session.” 

He shook his head. “No, noona. It’s okay. I didn’t mind the waiting. I got to use it to answer your mock tests.” 

“Really? Let me see. What did you answer first?” you asked, taking your messenger bag off of your shoulder, placing it on the table. 

“The Contemp—,” Jungwon began to say, but then he stopped, which caused you to tear your gaze away from the mock test in your hands, and to your tutee. You followed his gaze, and to your surprise, you saw Jungkook sitting across from you and Jungwon with a gentle smile on his face. He had his lip ring on—it was the first thing you noticed about him that day. 

“Jungkook, what are you doing here?” you asked, swallowing the lump in your throat. Why did it feel like you were caught doing something you weren’t supposed to do? Why did you suddenly feel anxious? 

Taehyung’s words rang in your ears: He’s crazy possessive. His charming persona is just that—a persona. 

Was all of it true? Was that the reason why he was here? Because you were with another guy? 

“I guess you didn’t read my message, babe,” he chuckled. “I told you not to buy lunch anymore because I cooked some for you. Here, you can share it with your friend…” he trailed off, politely smiling at Jungwon. 

“H-Hello, I’m Yang Jungwon,” Jungwon stammered, starstruck that Jamsil’s golden boy was talking to him. 

“Hello, Jungwon. It’s nice to meet you. You can just call me hyung,” Jungkook turned to you. “I’ll get going now, okay?” He pushed the lunch box towards you. “Eat. There’s hangover soup in there too.” 

You gave him a look to which he grinned at. “Ah, don’t worry, Jungwon. She can tutor you even though she’s dr—,” 

“Okay, thank you, Jeon Jungkook,” you interrupted him, making his grin wider. You shook your head at him, but you couldn’t hide the blush coating your cheeks from his sweet gesture. Then, you wondered, as Jungkook took his leave, did he do the same thing to Haemin? 

“I didn’t know you and Jeon Jungkook hyung are dating,” Jungwon brought you out of your trance, gaze finally now upon him rather than the absent figure of Jungkook. 

“Yeah, it just happened,” you said to him. “But come on, let’s focus on your mock tests.” 

Yet despite saying that, you were the one who couldn’t focus because the only thing in your mind was: how did Jungkook know you were at the library? 

Taehyung’s words plagued your mind the entire day. Even while you were working, all you could think about was his words about his best friend. How could he say those things about Jungkook? Someone he’d been best friends with since they were little? Why was he so adamant about you not dating him? Taehyung usually kept a distance from your personal life, not even asking about your mother because he knew of the complicated relationship your family had with his family. So, why was he all over your case now that you were “dating” Jungkook? You couldn’t understand. You couldn’t wrap your head around it. 

Although you confirmed with the library interaction that Jungkook wasn’t the possessive type, seeing as he just walked away after giving you the lunch box, and even let Jungwon call him hyung, there was still that nagging thought in your mind: what if Taehyung’s word held weight? What if they were true? 

You thought about it: if they were true, even when you were only fake dating, would he still be as possessive as Taehyung said he was? What happened for your cousin to even tell you something like that?  

Your thoughts were put on a halt when your manager called for your name. You worked as a part-time waitress at a restaurant called Rado. You used to be a full-time employee, but since you were in your last year of uni, you asked if you could still be employed on a part-time basis, and fortunately, your manager, Han Somin, agreed. 

“Yes, Ms. Han?” you asked as you entered her small office inside the employees’ locker room. 

“Y/N, hi, come inside, I just have something to tell you,” she said, taking her eyeglasses off, and kindly smiling at you. You nodded and did as told. “It’s nothing serious,” she continued, which alleviated the nerves sinking in your bones. “I just wanted to ask if you wanted to be part of this party we’re catering to on Saturday. It’s a listening party for an artist named J-Hope; he released a new album. Maybe you’ve heard of him.” 

You shook your head. “No, Ms. Han. But I’d love to be part of the staff. Where would it be held?” 

“It’ll be held at his label’s function room. I’ll send you the details, alright?” You nodded, then she dismissed you, and went back to work. 

Money had always been a sensitive topic for you. Growing up, you knew that you didn’t have a lot but you were comfortable due to both of your parents’ wages. Your father was a simple office man while your mother had her own small flower shop. They were able to provide for your basic needs and wants but when your father passed away—your mother’s earnings at the flower shop weren’t sustainable. Hence, at an early age, you learned how to look for jobs, and learned the value of money and earning it. Hence, the reason why, besides loving Jungkook all your life, you simply could not half-ass fake dating him because it was innate in you that when you do a job, you give it your hundred percent. 

Part of you wished you didn’t have to worry about your finances. That, like other students at Jamsil, you could have fun and enjoy college life without worrying if you would still have a roof over your head eve though you failed an exam or if you would still be able to eat the next day if you buy a food late at night because you were so hungry that you couldn’t sleep. 

Having money meant having freedom to do all the things that you wanted to do—and you weren’t free. Not yet, anyway, but moving to your own place was a start. That’s why no matter what people say, you would see fake dating Jeon Jungkook through because whether you liked it or not—he was the key to your freedom. 

Saturday rolled around quickly. Adorned in your Rado’s uniform—a simple white linen long sleeve polo shirt, black slacks, black high heels, and your hair pulled back to show your face—you were already at the label’s function room preparing for the listening party of J-Hope. His music had been playing since you got there and you felt yourself being immersed and vibing to it that you made a mental note to check his other songs out afterwards. 

You were in charge of the food and drinks. Ms. Han was also present to supervise and with you was your co-worker, Kang Seulgi, and Kim Hanbin. It was an intimate type of party; hence, the small group of staff and catering. 

“I wonder who we’ll see here,” Seulgi told you as she placed the food fingers on the table while you poured drinks into the glasses. 

“I heard it’s just indie artists that J-Hope invited. It’s the target audience for his album, you see,” Hanbin piped in, fixing his necktie. 

“Whoever it is, I’m sure—,” 

“Kim Y/N, it’s nice to see you here,” 

You only heard that voice a couple of times but you wouldn’t mistake it for another. It was ingrained in your mind so deeply. It was the voice of the person you hoped was you for a long time—who got to touch, kiss, hug, care, and love Jeon Jungkook for four years. It was the voice of the person who was Jeon Jungkook’s first love, and most likely still loved. It was the voice of the person that was never going to be you in his life. It was the voice of: 

“Lee Haemin.” 

PART FOUR (a sneak peek)

“Lee Haemin.” 

In one word, she was beautiful. Dressed in a small black dress with thin straps and a pair of black heels, her silky black hair pulled back, showing off her idol-like face, Lee Haemin was just a sight to behold. Smiling at you, she took a step forward. 

“Is it okay if we talk?” she asked. 

As though you were hypnotized, you nodded wordlessly. A part of you already knew what the talk would be, or at least that’s what you thought. Nodding back, Haemin smiled at Seulgi and Hanbin before leading you out of the function room and somewhere more private. She opened a door leading to what seemed like the conference room, and gestured that you enter first so you did. She followed in suit, and you took a short time to look at your surroundings. 

It was all white with an oval table in the middle and black swivel chairs surrounding it. Adjacent to you were the ceiling to floor windows, showcasing the city landscape. Connected at the top was a projector and on the left side was a projector screen. You wondered how Haemin got access to such room, and as though reading your mind, she said: 

“My family owns a stock, if you’re wondering why I got access to this room. We can pretty much use any room in the company.”

Nodding your head, you turned to face her. “I see. That’s great. I didn’t know that.” 

“Not many people do,” she answered. “But that isn’t really why I wanted to talk to you.” 

“I know,” you replied. “You wanna talk about Jeon Jungkook.” 

Haemin smiled. “I heard you’re dating him.” 

“From who? Taehyung?” You knew they were friends. Not exactly close, but they were acquainted due to Jungkook. 

She shook her head. “From Jungkook." Stunned, your mouth parted ways a little. Haemin smiled. "Surprising, I know, but it truly was him who told me that he was with you." 

"Why would he say that to you?" 

"Because he loved me first." 

And it was the truth. The truth hurts but it was the truth nevertheless. You weren't the first person he ever loved, ever had a deep and humane connection with. Everything about your relationship was a lie, a cover up. Theirs was true and real. Jungkook loved Haemin; not you.

Forcing a smile upon your face, you answered, “He loves me now. I don’t see the point of having this conversation, to be honest.”

“No, he doesn’t love you, Y/N. He wants you. Those two things are different,” You furrowed your eyebrows in confusion. Hence, Haemin continued, “Loving someone lights up your world. Wanting someone, now that’s a different thing. To want something is to own it.” 

“And your point? Jungkook wants to own me?” Even your words sent shivers down your spine. You loved Jungkook since you could remember. But did you want him to own you? 

“Yes,” she replied. “Jungkook’s the type of person who gets and gets and gets and never likes to not have what he wants, what he needs. I’m telling you all these because prior to him dating you,” she smiled when she said ‘dating’ as though she knew it was only fake. “He lost me. Now he’s trying to get you to get me back, to own me again. But I don’t want that anymore. I don’t love him anymore. Don’t trap yourself. Get out as early as you can.” 

You didn’t know what to say. So, you did the only thing you could do: walk away. But then Haemin called your name, and you stopped on your tracks, looking at her over your shoulder. “Don’t let love blind you, Y/N. I know you’ve loved him for years, but he’s only going to break you—mind, body, soul.” 

“Thank you for the advice, Haemin,” you told her. “But I didn’t need it. Please respect my relationship with Jungkook. Thank you and enjoy the night away.”

author’s note: hey guys. again, so sorry for deactivating all of a sudden. i know this isn’t much but i hope having a sneak peek into chapter four brought you a bit of joy and excitement. feel free to send me asks regarding burnout and other things. see you in price of freedom next. i’ll be posting it again on tumblr for easy viewing but it’ll also be on hold for the time being. thank you and much love, aika. 

[captainshyguy]

its because theyre the closest thing the fandom has to twinks and fandoms explode if they cant ship two little skinny guys or something

I finished Super Paper Mario earlier today for the first time after 16 years of owning and adoring the game and

I have a question for any Limentio / Dimigi shippers out there.

Why

[itneverendshere]

Just saw the new popular movie ’’This ends with us’’ and I beg of you to draw from the actual beautiful love story, so pure! So same concept of the love story: Pouge!Rafe has been kicked out by his mom and her abusive boyfriend, Kook!Reader sees him homeless & hiding. Reader does small acts of kindness, which builds up to a romance but they separate for whatever reason (could be because they get discovered, he joins the military, like the movie, or something different). It could also be reversed with Pouge!Reader instead being homeless, you pick! Years go by, Reader meets an abusive partner, she bumps into a now grown up Rafe. Lots of angst, lingering feelings and longing, he sees the signs of abusive and gets protective. But without the movie plots of reader getting pregnant and married) I adore and worship your writing skills, truly have a gift to make you feel all the emotions!! <3333333

INVISIBLE STRING - r.c series (one)

i loooove this request because pogue!rafe so i decided to turn into a mini series (two or three parts). im personally not a fan of it ends with us, but i love your requests bc it's still very different from the original plot.

pairing: pogue!rafe x sweetheart!kook reader. chapter warnings: domestic violence; absent parents; angst; fluff.

Rafe was born rough around the edges.

There was never any sugar-coating about it; with his hair always messy, sun-bleached and salty, and his hands perpetually stained with the grime of whatever job he'd taken up that week, Rafe Cameron had never known peace. He moved like a stray dog that had learned to fend for itself, his eyes always scanning for trouble. 

Most people kept their distance, and he liked it that way.

There wasn’t much softness in his life. His mom tried her best, he supposed, but that wasn’t saying much. She had a new boyfriend every few months, and they were all the same — mean, drunk, and looking for a fight. Rafe learned early on that if you couldn’t fight back, you were nothing. So he fought. A lot.

He fought the men who walked into their house at night, stinking of cheap whiskey and cigarettes. He fought the kids at school who called him trash, who mocked the way his clothes never quite fit or how he always seemed a little too hungry. But mostly, he fought himself — every time he looked in the mirror and saw his father’s eyes staring back at him. The man who left and never looked back. 

Another piece of shit. 

He kept his head down, kept his hands busy, and kept his mouth shut unless he had something to say. He wasn’t nice. Nice got you nowhere; nice got you used, broken, and left behind. He had seen it too many times to believe otherwise. The world wasn’t a kind place, and he wasn’t a kind guy. 

Most days, he’d finish work covered in sweat and salt, with just enough money in his pocket to get by. He'd dropped out of school years ago and head to the docks, sit on the edge, and smoke a cigarette while the sun dipped below the horizon.

The only real moment of peace he had.

Rafe took what work he could find — fixing up old fishing boats for the few Kooks who’d dare come down his side of the Cut, pulling shrimp nets in the dead hours of the morning, his back aching and his muscles screaming at such a young age, but at least it was better than being home. If he could call it that.

Home, where his mom was probably passed out again, where the latest loser she'd dragged in might be passed out on the couch or looking for a fight.

He could hear them shouting before he even got to the door. His mom’s voice screaming her throat out, and he could hear something crashing inside — a glass, maybe, or a plate. Then came the matching scream of the new boyfriend, Tony or Tommy or something — they all blurred together after a while. Rafe paused on the porch, his hand hovering over the door handle, debating whether it was worth going in at all.

Inside, she was standing in the middle of the living room, her face flushed, her blonde hair a mess. Tony stood over her, fists clenched, his face red and veins bulging in his neck. 

Rafe knew that look. 

He’d seen it before — seen it in a dozen men who thought they could push their weight around, thought they could break whatever they wanted.

“What the hell’s going on?” 

Tony turned, eyes narrowing. “None of your damn business, boy.”

Rafe took a step forward, his fists balling up instinctively. “If it’s in my house, it’s my business.”

His mom spun around to face him, her eyes wild and desperate. “Just stay out of it, Rafe. You always have to make things worse!”

He felt the sting of her words. He should be used to it by now. “I’m not the one who brought this piece of shit in here.”

That was all it took. Tony lunged at him, shoving him hard against the wall. Rafe felt the air rush out of his lungs as pain flared in his back. “You watch your mouth, punk,” Tony hissed, his face inches from his, his breath a disgusting mix of beer and god knows what.

“Or what?” Rafe shot back. If there was one thing he’d learned, it was how to keep his anger in check — at least most of the time.

Tony’s eyes flicked to his mom, like he was making a point, and she just stood there, watching. He’d lost his faith in her a long time ago but it still blew him away how she never lifted a finger to help him. 

“Get out,” she said finally, hand moving to point towards the bust-up wooden door.

“What?” Rafe blinked, caught off guard. He must’ve heard her wrong.

“You heard me. Get out!” She was shouting now, her voice high-pitched and desperate. “I can’t have you here, always stirring things up! You make everything worse!”

It had to be a fucking joke. He was the only one bringing in money to pay the rent, the only one who kept the house clean enough so it wouldn’t look or smell like someone died in there. Paid the hospital bills when they hit her too hard. He did everything, always. 

Tony shoved him again, harder this time, toward the open door. “You heard her. Get the hell out.”

Rafe stumbled backward, catching himself before he fell. He looked at his mom, his chest tightening in a way he hadn’t felt since he was a kid. “You’re really gonna choose him over your own son?”

She wouldn’t meet his eyes. “Just go, Rafe. I can’t do this anymore.”

He forced himself to nod. He almost wanted to laugh. “Fine,” he muttered, pushing past Tony and heading for the door. “Don’t call me when he sends you to the hospital again.”

He didn’t look back. He couldn’t. The moment he stepped outside, the wind hit his face like a slap, the kind that made his eyes sting and his heart pound. Things had never gotten to this point before. He would’ve rather taken a beating then get kicked out. 

He walked, hands stuffed into his pockets. He didn’t know where he was going, just that he couldn’t go back. Not now. Not ever. He’d die before he begged his mother or Tony to let him in that shithole again. His feet took him along the edge of town, past the marina and the fishing docks, and eventually, he found himself in the wealthy part of town, near Figure 8.

It was ironic, almost funny.

The Kooks lived here, the ones who wouldn’t give him the time of day if they saw him on their streets. And here he was, a beat-up pogue, walking right through their territory, angry and suddenly so damn tired.

He spotted an old, abandoned house, sitting at the end of a street where the mansions stood tall and proud. He had walked by it a few times before and noticed it had been empty for years, the paint peeling off in strips, the windows boarded up, and the grass overgrown. He crossed the street, glancing around to make sure no one was watching, and pushed the broken gate open. The hinges squeaked loudly, proving just how long it had been since someone had been there.

The front door was unlocked; it opened with the slightest push. Inside, it smelled of dust and mold, but it was dry, and it was quiet. It was enough. He made his way to a small room in the back, what must have once been a kitchen. There was an old sofa left behind, covered in a dirty sheet. He pulled the sheet off, threw it in a corner, and sank onto the sofá, finally breathing properly. 

He stayed there, staring at the cracked ceiling and the empty walls, wondering how the fuck he was going to get himself out of this one. 

For the two next days, he moved carefully, quietly, in and out of the house. He didn’t want anyone to know he was staying there. He wasn’t getting his ass thrown into jail again. He found a way in through the back window, kept to the dimly lighted areas, and avoided the main roads. He didn't have much — a few changes of clothes, some cash from odd jobs, and his dad’s old pocketknife, the only thing he had left of the bastard.

It was on the third day that he saw you.

He was sitting on the front steps, having a cigarette, when he heard the sound of a bike chain clicking. He glanced up, and there you were — riding a yellow bike, hair pulled back, and eyes glued to him as you pedaled down the street.

He stiffened, quickly stubbing out the cigarette, his heart rate picking up. You were one of them, a Kook, from one of the mansions just a block away. He’d seen you before, always biking around town, sometimes with friends, sometimes alone.

He didn’t know you, didn’t even know your name, but he knew the type.

You saw him, too, and slowed your bike. His first thought was to get up and disappear back into the house, but he knew that would look suspicious. So he stayed put, trying to look casual, as if he belonged there.

You stopped a few feet away, still on your stupid bike, one foot on the ground to steady yourself.

“You live here?” You asked, not in a mean way, just curious.

Rafe’s jaw tightened. “Yeah,” he lied, “Why?”

You shrugged, “Just… didn’t think anyone did. Looks pretty empty.”

He tensed, waiting for you to say something like, “I’m going to tell someone,” or worse, to start asking more questions. But instead, you just gave him another curious look, nodded, and biked away.

Weird girl.

The next day, you were back. This time, you had a bag with you. He watched you approach, wary. You stopped in front of the house and took something out of the bag — a sandwich, wrapped in paper, and a bottle of water.

You held them out to him, a gentle smile on your face, “Figured you might be hungry.”

He thought maybe you were just trying to make yourself feel better, some Kook guilt thing, like feeding the stray cat in the alley so you could pat yourself on the back for being such a nice person.

And he hated that. Hated you for even thinking he needed your stupid charity. So he gave you every reason to leave him alone.

When you handed him that sandwich, he barely even looked at you.

He just grabbed it and then turned his back, heading into the house without another word. But the next day, you were there again. And the next.

He started making it obvious he didn’t want you around. He’d grunt when you said hello, roll his eyes when you tried to make small talk.

One time, you offered him an apple, and he snatched it out of your hand without a word, just to see if you’d get annoyed enough to leave. You didn’t. Like some fucking saint.

Instead, you kept coming back, like some sort of annoying, persistent fly he couldn’t swat away. Every time, your smile was a little nicer, your eyes a little more curious.

He didn't get it. Why the hell were you still trying? Didn’t you get it? He didn’t want you here. Didn’t want to talk to you. Didn’t need shit from a Kook.

“What’s your problem?” he muttered one day when you showed up with a bag of groceries.

You blinked, “What do you mean?”

“You keep coming back here like I asked you to. I didn’t. I don’t need your charity.”

You raised an unimpressed eyebrow, still not leaving. “I’m not doing charity. I jut figured you could use a little help.”

He scoffed, turning his back on you again. “I don’t need anything from you, princess.”

You hesitated, then placed the bag on the steps anyway. “Well, it’s here if you do.”

He snorted, rolling his eyes again. “Great. Another pity gift from the rich kid. Thank you so much,” he said, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

You clenched your jaw, but still didn’t leave. He expected you to finally get the hint, but you just shook your head and walked away.

The next day, you there you were. And the day after that. Always bringing something, always with that same annoying, stubborn smile.

By the end of the week, he was done. You rolled up with another bag, and before you could even open your mouth, he let out a loud groan, throwing his head back. 

"For fuck’s sake, don’t you have anything better to do than bother me every damn day?”

That was it — you snapped.

Your eyes flared, and you stepped in closer, voice getting louder. "Will you just eat the damn food before I throw it in your face?" You shouted, cheeks going red with frustration.

He blinked, caught off guard. He didn’t expect you to clap back.

You’d been silent and too sweet for his liking. Most Kooks would’ve run back to their fancy houses by now, but you were still standing your ground, fists clenched, breathing heavy. Cute.

He almost laughed. Almost. “What’s your deal? You think you’re some kind of hero bringing food to the poor pogue? You think you're gon' save me or something?”

You glared at him “I’m not trying to save you, jerk! I’m just trying to be a decent human! Maybe you should try it sometime!”

He stared at you, face set in a deadpan, but he felt something— something he hadn’t felt in a while. Respect, maybe? But for some reason, he didn’t tell you to get lost.

Instead, he snatched the bag out of your dainty small hand. “Fine. I’ll eat your stupid food. But don’t think this changes anything,” he muttered.

You rolled your eyes, crossing your arms. “Oh, trust me, I don’t.”

You both stood there in this weird silence for a minute, glaring at each other. Then you shook your head, and smiled like you hadn’t read him to filth ten seconds ago. “See you tomorrow, Rafe.”

What? You knew his name?

He watched as you rode away and he realized he was grinning, just a bit. For the first time in weeks, he didn’t feel completely alone.

And somehow, that pissed him off even more.

Days turned into weeks, and you kept showing up, like a plague.

No matter how much Rafe grumbled, no matter how many times he rolled his eyes or muttered under his breath, you just kept coming back. It was always something small — fruit, a bottle of water, a warm meal in a container. Every time you showed up, you had that same stubborn look in your eyes, like you weren’t going to back down no matter how much he pushed you away.

He hated to admit it, but he started to look forward to your little visits. He hated even more that he noticed things about you. Like how your hair fell in your face when you leaned over to hand him something or how your laugh sounded when he said something sarcastic. He noticed the way you seemed to care, even when he made it clear he didn’t want you to.

One day, you showed up with a duffel bag. Rafe looked at you suspiciously as you parked your bike and slung the bag over your shoulder.

“What now?” he grunted, eyeing the bag like it might bite him.

He could tell you were nervous and that weirded him out even more. Since when could he read your mind? 

“I was thinking… maybe you’d want to come to my house. Just to shower and get some real rest. My parents are out of town, and y’know, you could use it.”

He stared at you like you’d grown another head. “You want me to come to your house?”

You nodded, looking a little unsure now, hands tightening around the bag’s strap, “Yeah. Just for a bit. I thought you might like a break from this place.”

He scoffed. “And why the hell would I want to do that? You think I’m gonna be some charity case you can parade around to make yourself feel good?”

You sighed, clearly getting frustrated. “No, Rafe. I just thought… I just thought you might want a hot shower. But if you don’t, that’s fine.”

He usually cleaned himself up near the docks, but the water was freezing during this time of the year. Every time it felt like his balls were going to drop to the floor. So yeah, a hot shower in a big mansion sounded tempting.

Even if he didn’t want to give you that satisfaction.

A hot shower… a real bed, even for a little while. He hadn’t had that in what felt like forever. He looked at you again, trying to figure out if this was some kind of sick twisted plan, but all he saw were those stupid glowing eyes staring him down like he’d be dumb to refuse you. 

“Fine,” he muttered, standing up. “But just for a shower. And if you try anything weird, ’m outta there.”

Your nose scrunched up, “As if.”

Your house was everything he expected from a Kook — big, clean, and way too fancy. He felt out of place the moment he stepped through the gigantic door, like he was tracking mud on a white carpet. You led him upstairs, pointing out the bathroom.

“You can use this one. Towels are in the cabinet, and I’ll leave some clothes outside if you want them.”

Rafe grunted in response, still unsure why he was even there. He went into the bathroom and locked the door, leaning against it for a moment. The place smelled like lavender or some other fancy soap he couldn’t name. He turned on the shower, and the hot water poured out instantly, filling the room with steam.

He stripped off his dirty clothes and stepped under the water, hissing as the heat hit his skin. But then he relaxed, letting the water wash away the grime, the salt, the exhaustion he’d been carrying for so long. He stayed under the spray longer than he should have, almost losing track of time.

When he finally got out, he saw the clothes you’d left outside the door — a plain t-shirt and sweatpants, nothing flashy, but clean. He put them on and headed back downstairs, finding you in the kitchen, making coffee.

You looked up when he entered, “Feel better?”

He shrugged. “I guess.”

You handed him a cup of coffee, and he took it reluctantly, still waiting for the catch. But you just sat across from him at the kitchen island, sipping your own cup, not saying anything.

He found himself watching you, noticing the little things again.

The way you tucked your hair behind your ear, the way your fingers tapped against the mug when you were thinking. He hated that he was noticing, hated that he found any of it interesting. He took a sip of the coffee and scowled when it tasted good, because of course it did.

“You do this shit for everyone?” he asked, breaking the silence.

You looked at him, “What do you mean?”

“This.” He gestured around. “Invite random guys to your house, make them coffee, act like you care.”

You laughed, a light sound that made his chest feel weird. “No. Just you.”

He didn’t know what to say to that, so he just looked away, taking another sip of coffee. He didn’t do nice. He wasn’t used to nice. This was weird.

You kept doing these little things for him — small acts of kindness he didn’t ask for and definitely didn’t deserve. You’d leave extra food by the house when you knew he’d be there, sometimes even a blanket or a pillow you said you didn’t need. You’d offer to let him use the house again, and every once in a while, he’d accept, hating how much he craved the simple comfort of a shower or a bed.

And all the while, he stayed the same — gruff, sarcastic, always trying to push you away with his attitude. But you didn’t go. You took his crap and came back.

One night, after a particularly rough day where everything seemed to go wrong, he found himself standing outside your house again. Your parents were out of town again, and he didn’t have anywhere else to go. He hated that he was here, hated that he needed this, but he knocked anyway.

You opened the door, your face lit up with that familiar smile. “Rafe,” you said, voice warm. “Come in.”

He liked the way his name sounded on your lips.

He hesitated, but he did. You led him to the living room, and he noticed a few things this time — the family photos on the walls, a vase of flowers on the table, the soft throw blanket on the couch.

Your home was nothing like his, but it felt… safe.

They sat in silence for a while, and he noticed how you didn’t bother him with questions, didn’t try to fix anything. You just sat there, close but not too close, letting him breathe. He found himself looking at you more, catching the way your lips curled up at the corners, how your eyes seemed to soften whenever they landed on him. He felt something strange, something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

He sat on that big couch, staring at his busted-up hands, trying to ignore the way his heart pounded in his chest. You were just a few feet away, eyes flicking over to him now and then, like you were waiting for him to speak. But he didn’t know what to say.

He felt… uncomfortable. Not because of the place, or you. No, never because of you. But because of this strange feeling that kept crawling up his spine, making him feel restless.

You were sitting on the arm of the chair, legs tucked under you, looking at him with that familiar, gentle expression that made him feel like maybe he wasn’t such a screw-up. He didn’t know what to do with that. You were the kind of girl who should have nothing to do with him. Yet here you were, again and again, showing up, like you didn’t know any better.

He cleared his throat, trying to push back whatever weird tension was building between you. “So… your parents,” he muttered. “They’re out of town a lot?”

You nodded, sighing, “Yeah. They travel for work. I’m used to it.”

“Must be nice,” he said, but his voice came out rougher than what he was going for. He didn’t know how to do gentle and he was still half-convinced you were going to kick him out or tell him you had enough of his crap.

“Sometimes,” you replied, “But it gets lonely, too.”

He wasn’t expecting that. He glanced at you trying to read you. He knew you weren’t looking for sympathy; you were just stating a fact.

He wasn’t sure what made him ask, but he did anyway. “Why do you keep helping me?”

You blinked, caught off guard. “I— I don’t know. I guess… I just see something in you. Something good.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “There’s nothin' good in me.”

“There is,” you insisted. “I see it. Even if you don’t.”

He felt his chest tighten, and he had to look away. “You’re wrong.”

“Maybe,” you said quietly, “but I don’t think so.”

He feel your eyes on him, could feel the way his pulse was racing under his skin. He hated it. Hated that he wanted to believe you, wanted to feel whatever it was you seemed to see in him.

“You’re too good,” he muttered. “Too good for someone like me.”

You laughed softly. “You don’t know me as well as you think, Rafe.”

He glanced up, surprised by the boldness in you. You were so soft most days it always threw him off when you took the reins. You were closer now, leaning forward just slightly, eyes fixed on his. He felt that breathtaking tension tightening again.

Before he could think better of it, he spoke, voice coming out meeker than what he was going for, “You really think there’s somethin' good in me?”

You nodded, not taking your eyes off of him for a second, “Yeah, I do.”

He swallowed hard, his mouth suddenly dry. He didn’t know what he was doing, didn’t know what possessed him, but before he could stop himself, he reached out, his hand finding yours. You didn’t pull away. Didn’t flinch in fear or scrunched up your nose in disgust.

Instead, your fingers tightened around his, and his breath caught in his throat.

“Why?” he asked again, desperate.

 “Because I just do.”

Something snapped in him then, something he’d been holding back for too long. He moved closer, his other hand reaching up to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing against your delicate skin. You didn’t pull away again, only leaning into his touch. 

He hesitated, just for a moment. “I’m not— I-I’m not a good guy,” he murmured.

You smiled again, softer this time, the way he hoped you only did for him, “I don’t need you to be.”

He didn’t get it, but he didn’t have time to figure it out.

He leaned in and kissed you. It was clumsy at first — just a touch of lips, a bit hesitant. But then you kissed him back and suddenly he understood those stupid cliché novels his mom used to read when he was younger. He’d never kissed anyone before. 

He was too aware of how inexperienced they both were, of the way his lips barely brushed against yours. He felt stiff and unsure, like he didn’t know if he was doing it right. But it felt right. It wasn’t smooth or perfect — there was hesitancy and uncertainty, but it was real. He felt your hand touch his cheek, your fingers warm and trembling just a little.

His hand slid from your cheek down to your neck, pulling you closer, fingers curling into your hair. He couldn’t get enough. It was messy, frantic, his heart racing like it was trying to break out of his chest, and for once, he didn’t care. He felt your breath hitch against his lips, the warmth of you pressing into him, and all the walls he’d built up, all the reasons he’d given himself to push you away, disappeared. 

Your hands found their way to his chest, fingers gripping the fabric of his old shirt like you didn’t want to let go, and that did something to him. Made him feel more alive than he had in a long time. Every time he kissed you, it was like he was drowning in you, like nothing else mattered except for this — your lips, your skin, the way your body pressed against his.

He pulled away, just for a second, eyes wide and breathing heavy, like he couldn’t believe what had just happened.

He looked at you, cheeks flushed, lips swollen and wet from the kiss, and damn, you looked beautiful. More beautiful than he ever let himself admit before.

But then you smiled, that same heart-shattering smile, and it was like you were pulling him back in, “You don’t have to be afraid,” you whispered.

“I’m not…” he started, but even he didn’t believe it. Because he was. He was terrified as hell of this, of you, of the way you made him feel like he wasn’t a complete mess. But before he could say more, you kissed him again, and this time, he didn’t hold back.

He didn’t think about what he should or shouldn’t be doing, didn’t overanalyze the way his hands moved from your waist to your back, pulling you closer until there wasn’t any space left between you. You melted into him, your body warm and soft, like you belonged there and he felt like he was burning up from the inside out.

His hands roamed, exploring, memorizing the curve of your waist, the way your body fit so perfectly against his. Every little sound you made, every breathless gasp, made him feel like he was on fire.

You broke apart again, both of you panting, and he rested his forehead against yours, eyes closed, trying to catch his breath.

“This is crazy,” he muttered, his voice all shaky.

You giggled, the sound making his chest tighten in the best way.

“Maybe. But I don’t care.”

He opened his eyes, staring into yours, and he knew you meant it.

You didn’t care about the Kook vs. Pogue thing, about the stupid rules that had been drilled into them from birth. You just cared about him. He didn’t know how to let himself want something good, something real. But he wanted you. God, did he want you.

From that night on, everything changed. 

You started seeing each other in secret, meeting up when your parents were out of town or sneaking off to some hidden spot by the beach at night where no one would find you. Every time he saw you, it was like a high he couldn’t get enough of. You’d kiss, talk, hold each other like you were the only two people in the world, and he’d forget about all the shit in his life. Forget about the fact that he was supposed to be a screw-up who didn’t deserve someone like you.

You sat side by side at the dock, feet dangling just above the water, the tips of your shoes barely touching the surface. Something was calming about the sound of the gentle waves lapping against the dock, the world feeling small and distant for once, like it was just the two of you.

He leaned back on his hands, staring out at the horizon, not saying much. He’d been quiet today, more so than usual. You nudged him lightly with your shoulder.

“Penny for your thoughts?”

He snorted, shaking his head slightly. “You don’t want ‘em. They’re not worth much.”

You rolled your eyes, nudging him again. “C’mon. You’ve been quiet all day. What’s going on in that head of yours?”

He hesitated, glancing down at the water, his fingers curling into the wood of the dock. He was biting back whatever was eating at him. He wasn’t the type to open up easily, you knew that, but he wanted to, for you. You wanted to know him, all of him, not just the fake exterior he put up for everyone else to see.

“You ever think about… like, how different your life would be if shit didn’t go so sideways?” he asked, his voice low, almost like he wasn’t sure he wanted to say it out loud.

You frowned, turning to face him, “What do you mean?”

He exhaled sharply through his nose, running a hand through his hair.

“My mom, she… she used to date these losers. Real pieces of shit, y’know? Guys who’d roll through, thinking they owned the place, treating me like I was some kind of burden just because I was around.”

It wasn’t easy for him to say it, but he was doing it anyway, like the words had been stuck inside him for years.

“She didn’t really care what they did. As long as they paid for her booze, she was cool with whatever. They’d knock me around sometimes, tell me I wasn’t worth shit. But she never did anything about it.” He paused, swallowing hard, his gaze fixed on the water because he couldn’t look at you. “One of ‘em got real bad. Fucker hit me so hard one night, I thought I was gonna pass out. And when I told her… she didn’t care. Told me I was a liar. Said I probably deserved it.”

“Rafe…” you whispered, reaching out to take his hand. He didn’t pull away this time, just let you hold it, his fingers squeezing yours a little too tightly.

“I tried to stick it out,” he continued, his voice quieter now. “Tried to stay for as long as I could. But one day, she kicked me out. Told me I was too much trouble, and she didn’t need me around anymore.” He laughed, but it was hollow, bitter. “I guess I wasn’t worth the space I took up.”

You were quiet. He liked that about you, that you didn’t try and get his thoughts out of his head, just let him do his thing, on his own time. There was nothing that could make up for the kind of pain he’d been through. You just squeezed his hand tighter, and he just knew you wished you could take some weight off his shoulders.

“That’s why you were in that house?” You brushed your lips against his shoulder.

“Yeah.”

It was hard for him to talk about this stuff. Hell, it was hard for him to talk at all when it came to anything real. You just sat there, holding his hand, being there. That was what made you different. Most people didn’t wait for him. They’d get frustrated, give up, move on.

You just... stayed. And that scared him almost as much as it comforted him.

“You didn’t deserve that.”

He scoffed, shaking his head. “Doesn’t matter. Deserve’s got nothin’ to do with it.”

You shifted closer, your knees touching his now. “It matters to me.”

He didn’t understand how you could look at him like that, like he was worth something.

“You knew my name.”

You nodded, “You delivered fresh seafood to the house once.”

His eyes nearly popped out from their sockets, “I was fourteen.”

“Yeah?”

“And you remembered that?”

Your brows shot up like he’d said the dumbest thing ever. “Obviously.”

His breath caught, and before he could stop himself, he reached out, pulling you into his lap. His hands found your waist, desperate, almost frantic, holding onto you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded.

"You shouldn’t—" he started, but the words died on his lips because you were already kissing him, and it was like everything stopped. The world, his thoughts, all the shit that weighed him down. It was just you, your lips, the way your hands tangled in his hair, and the soft sounds you made against his mouth.

He kissed you harder, more urgently, like he was trying to prove something to himself — that he could have this, that he could deserve this. His hands slid up your back, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you. His lips moved against yours and he felt like he was falling apart and putting himself back together all at once.

When he pulled back, just enough to look at you, his chest was heaving, and you were looking at him with that same softness that made his stomach twist.

"How—How the hell did I get this lucky?" His voice cracked, just a little. He hadn’t meant to say it, but the words spilled out anyway. 

You smiled, brushing your thumb across his cheek, and he realized then that his face was wet. He hadn’t even noticed the tears slipping down, hadn’t noticed the way he was trembling.

"You deserve this" you whispered. 

That was it.

That was the breaking point. A choked sob escaped him, and before he could stop himself, he crashed his lips against yours again, kissing you so hard it hurt, but he didn’t care. He couldn’t get enough of you, couldn’t hold back the way he felt like he’d been waiting his whole life for this moment. For you.

His hands cupped your face, fingers trembling as he kissed you again and again, like he was afraid you’d disappear if he stopped. 

And as his tears mixed with your kiss, he realized that for the first time in his life, he wasn’t running.

He wasn’t pushing you away. He was falling, hard and fast, and he didn’t care. Because for once, he was exactly where he wanted to be.

[woodland-gremlin]

Ghostly Parents AU

An AU where Jason was ghost adopted after he died. His resurrection caused his ghost parent a lot of grief. First their kid was brought back to life, having to dig out of his own grave which is extremely traumatic. Second he was kidnapped by a bunch of cultists. Thirdly, said cultist dumped him in contaminated ectoplasm, giving his ecto-posioning. Fourthly they tried to brainwash him and generally treat him horribly. To say that Jason's parent was furious was putting it mildly.

Now depending on the ghostly parent the methods to get him back and how they raise him differ. There is plenty of ghost parents to choose from. There is Frostbite, who would probably just show up and ignore everyone while he treats Jason for ecto-posioning. Depending on who they were he might heal others. He would also do something to the pits just because of how dangerous they are, unknowingly single handily wrecking the League by doing so.

Fright Knight would probably challenge Ras for kidnapping his son/squire, sending him to the nightmare dimension.

Ghost Writer would force the whole League into a book of Jason's choosing forever.

Pandora would charge and seize the League, forcing them to face Amazon justice.

And that is just how they would bring him back, raising him is a totally different matter. Frostbite is pretty chill, ha, but would insist on teaching him the basics of first aide. This could lead Jason to becoming a Doctor that Alfred always wanted in the family because of how well it feeds into his protection obsession. This also leads Jason to meet "The Great One" the yetis always talk about. Whether he joins the yetis in their religion like in one of @long-live-astronerd-ghost-king 's post ( https://www.tumblr.com/long-live-astronerd-ghost-king/742150810600947712?source=share ) or tease Danny about it relentlessly is up to you.

With Fright Knight he would be a squire to him. Jason easily settles into this role because it reminds him of what he did with Batman. All he really did was trade one Dark Knight for another. Like "Afterlife" by batling_out_of_hell on Ao3. Training might kick up a notch because of the kidnapping though. This is also how he meets Danny. Since he is training under Fright Knight who is Danny's knight, this leads to some romance of a knight and his king.

Ghost Writer and Jason would get along like house on fire. They often spend their days writing and reading. Ghost Writer also is very supportive of Jason getting to finish his education. He is not so supportive of Jason's relationship with Danny. He doesn't say anything because of how happy Danny makes Jason but he certainly does not like it, at least at first.

With Pandora he originally had a small fan girl moment because she's related to Wonder Woman! He gets along great with the other Greeks, sparring and having philosophical debates. He meets Danny when he comes for his weekly tea time with Pandora, who later coos about how great they look together.

[kakiastro]

Jupiter + the type of husband you will have

Hey yall! It literally took me a couple of weeks to make this post because I believe I’m experiencing burnout 😫 I think I’m going to take a mini break😅anyway, I hope you had a an amazing holiday!! Today I’m going to be talking about the traits and type of husband you will have based on your Jupiter.

Jupiter traditionally rules the husband. For those who are seeking a husband or husband-like partner, Jupiter is the planet to look at.

Look at your:

1. Jupiter sign

2. Jupiter degree

3. Jupiter house placement

4. Jupiter aspects

Also look at your Jupiter persona chart for deeper details as well!

Jupiter sign and house breakdowns:

Aries/1h

- may love to wear athletic brand outfits, have tattoos, prominent forehead, may have bangs or hair just cover their forehead, thick eyebrows, strong sex appeal to them

-their bold and confident

-may work in military, law enforcement, medical field dealing with lab work(blood draws, blood disease researcher), entrepreneurship and being the boss, welding or anything dealing with metals, butcher, working in a gun store.

-could be athletic or loves the gym

-loud or outgoing

-may lack impatience and tend to be impulsive

-always on the go, they have to always be doing something

-loves hot or spicy food

-may love debates and may come off as argumentative

-risk takers, they make quick decisions based on impulse. This can can either back fire or work in their favor LoL

Taurus/ 2h

-may have Venusian look to them so curly hair, smooth skin, very pretty. They may look like they can be a model, they look good on camera. Might have a mole, birth mark or a tattoo on their neck, something about their neck stands out. They’ll have an attractive voice

-money matters such as dealing with money by working in a bank. Working in the culinary industry so owning/working in a restaurant, working for a company that deals with food. Working in real estate or in the housing industry, working the arts such as fashion, painting.

-may be stubborn and like to take their time in doing things

-loves going out to eat especially to their favorite restaurants. If food is involved, they’re going!

-very sensual, loves to wear good smelling fragrances, dressing nice. These are the type of husbands that loves to buy flowers for you just because.

-loves physical touch such as holding hands, cuddling, arm around the shoulder types.

-very charming, may have a lot of friends but only a few close ones.

-loves passion and romance

-listening to lots of music

Gemini/3h

- you may meet them through a close friend, siblings, someone close to your neighborhood, library, school, they can be a former or current classmate

- they may have a unique laugh that catches your attention, may have smile that appears mischievous, may wear glasses for reading or prescriptions, messy hair do

-loves to talk as long as it’s airy and fun

-speaking of fun, they’re down for whatever, very outgoing person.

-may have lots of friends or know lots of people

-loves to read or write books or blogs

Cancer/4h

-may have a prominent chest, moon face that’s round or crescent shape, pouty lips, big round watery eyes. They may be wearing comfy clothing

-can come from a close knit family or they are family oriented. Can be close to his mom or has motherly figures in their life.

-may prefer to be at home

-may be proud of their ancestral roots and would want that displayed in there home

-loves home cooked meals

-very private person

Leo/5h

-Leo energy has a strong aura, they give A list celebrity energy so you may noticed them right away due to that, something about there hair may stand out to you. Likes dressing and looking good

-have a lighthearted warmness to them like their ruler the Sun

-may be well known, not necessarily famous (although they could be) but they have a lot of friends or they’re known for something.

-really artistic and love the arts such as theater, entertainment, dancing. They could also work in these fields

-may be intuned into there inner child, not necessarily childish but they know how to have fun

-may love children. Work with children or children is apart of their lives.

-may be overly dramatic about certain situations in their life

Virgo/6h

-may work in the medical field or is interested in medical stuff

-daily routines are important! These are the type of husbands who have a scheduled routine everyday lol

-may be workaholics, work is important to these hubbies. Now work doesn’t always have to mean their career/job either, working around the house, doing a project, fixing a car. They’re always doing some type of work!😅

-just like Gemini, virgoes love to read as well. The difference is Virgo loves to read things that has lots of detail. They need to know the who and why while Gemini just need the overall story and they can fill in the details themselves lol

-can be critical and judgy, mostly of themselves though, they can project on others if they’re not self aware.

-health is important to them! They may read up on different dietary recipes that can improve help.

-they either love animals to a fault or run away from them. There’s no in-between 😆

-could be managers or have a lot of co-workers as friends

Libra/7h

-very elegant and put together. May wear cologne or nice smelling body wash

-very charming indidvial, know how to swoon you

-flirtyyyyyy

-don’t ask them where they want to go eat because they don’t know😫it’s best to just remember their favorite food and go from there Lol

-may be business oriented or wants to own a business

-partnership is very important to them. Libra is a people person so close relationships are ideal

-doesn’t like unfairness at all. If you’ve been mistreated, they are the type to defend you if they feel like you’re being treated unfairly. They’re very much social justice warriors

-having some sort of balance in there life is key!

- may also like fashion things

-family may also be important

Scorpio/8h

-intesnse stare. You may feel intimidated by them at first but really are sweethearts when you get to know them

-there really private people, they don’t trust others easily at all. Once you have their trust then then you have there heart forever

-power dynamics with friends, family, lover may be themes

-they have sexual appeal

-they may have strong jealous tendencies. If they are self aware and put in the work to address these feelings then they are fine not if their the crazy jealous type, that’s not good and leave

-money may also be a theme, shared finances

-loves the color black

-may work in mortuary science, funerals, graveyard, taxidermist, finances, psychology, therapy, detective, forensics

Sagittarius/9h

-may be from a different culture, city or country from you

-may work in overseas, as a judge, historian, in a church, as a pilot/airline employee , cruise ship, writer, professor

-loves traveling, may have a lot of knowledge on different cultural backgrounds

-religious or is interested in religion. They could study theology

-these people love adventures, no matter how big or small it is the adventure is. Going to target can be an adventure because they’ll make it one 😅

-love reading books especially books that educational or something that broadens their minds to different ideals and ethics

-May have some good lucking legs 🦵. They may have a history of doing track or love running/jogging

Capricorn/10h

-there may be an age gap and it doesn’t have to be a huge one. Maybe a few years older. They can also be very mature or has a lot of life experience for someone their age.

-very ambitious, they don’t climb ladders, they climb mountains and will make it to the top every time

-respect and status is important to them. It doesn’t always mean fame status but status in a “I just want people to look up to me in a respectful way.” They may be managers or bosses, they can just carry that energy as well

-they may look put together, clean clothes that matches, hair groomed. They just look like they have their life together even if it’s currently a mess😅

-they have a jawline that was crafted by the Gods 🤌🏾

-family is important to them as well! Building a solid foundation that can be passed on to the next generation is a huge thing for them. They may be the patriarch of the family

-very close with their grandparents especially grandma. If their still alive and well, You’ll probably meet their granny before their parents

Aquarius/11h

-may have started off as acquaintances, then really good friends, not thinking much about dating until feelings starts to develope

-yall could of met while on a dating app.

-this is a cute, adorable, quirky, and weird husband. They may have different interest than you but that’s what you love about them!

-these partners are the type who will give you your space if you need it, they’ll actually encourage it!

-they may know lots of people and you’ll meet lots of new people through them.

-rules? What’s that? Lol they don’t mind breaking a few if they feel the need too. These people definitely live their life by the beat of their own drum.

-may be involved with humanitarian work, tech, science, astrology

Pisces/12h

-your connection my feel “divine” or like this person was handpicked for you specifically. There’s a spiritual connection between you two. You may dream a lot about each other.

-may also be from an unknown or foreign culture or country.

-water related things may be a theme such as the beach/swimming in the ocean, taking a cruise, kayaking, yacht, traveling to a water based city like Venice, Italy

-spiritually discussions can be part of your relationship

-creativify such as singing, writing songs or filming could be careers. Also being a healer like a spiritual teacher

-you may worship the ground they walk on and put them on a pedestal. Just try to make sure you don’t wear colored glasses and see them for who they are right now and not who you want them to be

-telepathic connection

Any married people here? Does some of this describe your hubby?

I’m not married yet but when I do, I’ll reblog this and let yall know 🫡

[plutonianeris]

how you leave them addicted …

choose based on your inner guidance and gut feeling.

(pile one) 🤎

“Find out how it feels to let go of everything. Be free. When you're here with me”

They are addicted to your strength, passion, desire for adventure, and love of life. I get a feeling they perceive you as unattainable, but not in the sense that you're out of their league. They could feel like they can't keep up… because you're always talking about your passions and interests, and you have such a genuine and magnificent desire to learn. It makes you feel apprehensive about settling down or staying in one location. You want to know what the world is actually like and discover numerous truths about yourself… it's a never-ending journey on your part. You enjoy growing. Pile one, your INTELLIGENCE IS SEXY AS FUCK. You're fucking philosophical, clever, helpful, and chaotic all at the same time.

And you become a wildfire to them. They're captivated by your spark, your attractiveness, and the way your eyes light up when you tell them about something new you've discovered. This pile gives me a bittersweet ache in my chest. There is a sense of hurt in the heart of all that strength and curiosity and strength and desire to grow. That as much as you want to appreciate life, you have also been hurt… there is a sense of suspicion in others. Fear of getting too close. But this simply makes them want you more. That simply increases their desire for you. You're badass… I get it. You're not afraid to stand on your own if you have to… if anything you're proud of that.  

You may have been quite independent at an early age, and you may have had parents or family who were more concerned with your attitude, mood, or what you could do for them rather than checking up on you or giving you the benefit of the doubt. How ironic… that you're always willing to put yourself out there when it comes to your opinions about the universe, death, life, science, religion, or even school subjects… that you're always prepared to listen and even debate. But when it comes to love and romance, there's just this fucking fear and resistance to FULLY explore... that it makes you want to bolt. pile one… you leave them enchanted. You can be very good at flirting, and you could get compliments on your smile, laugh, and personality.  

But it doesn't always go beyond flirting, and they're left wondering what will be good enough for someone like you. You're a heartbreaker, Pile One… I know it's not in the same manner as getting into a long-term, intimate relationship, but it's as if you offer them a taste of something breathtaking and thrilling, and then you're gone. But you're a flame, and they stare in awe, fingers outstretched, not even caring that the skin on their palm will burn and blister as they yank their hand back, their gaze never leaving you.

It reminds me of a little kid just staring at something fascinating with their mouth hanging open, pointing. You have the power of bringing out this expansive and innocent curiosity in them. They don't seem to mind getting hurt as long as they can be near you. And you can be irresponsible with your actions at times too, not caring whether anyone gets hurt either, including yourself. Even in that pain, you find such meaningful lessons.

(pile two) 🤎

“you wont find me twice and this I promise”

They’re addicted to your resilience, your unapologetic pursuit of truth, and the unwavering confidence you carry like armor. You’re not someone they can easily forget. It’s as though you’re an endless puzzle, always shifting, always evolving. And that mystique? It pulls them in deeper every time. There’s this feeling that they’re chasing something they can never quite catch. its a wild force they admire but can’t fully comprehend. You are a storm of energy, constantly moving, constantly seeking new experiences. You’re driven by an insatiable curiosity to explore the depths of your potential, your limits, and the world around you. That hunger for growth makes you seem untethered, impossible to pin down, and that is both exhilarating and intimidating to them.

You’re the kind of person who thrives on change, who finds stagnation suffocating. Settling isn’t just unappealing it’s out of the question. They see that fire in you, the one that refuses to be dimmed, and they’re in awe of it. You live boldly, your intelligence not just something of the mind but of the heart its a deep, soulful kind of wisdom that radiates from within. And when you speak, you hold them spellbound. It’s your passion for knowledge, your fearless way of questioning everything, that makes them addicted to the essence of you.

But here’s the twist. For all your strength, there’s a vulnerability they can sense but can’t quite touch. Beneath that powerful exterior, there’s a wariness its a suspicion of people, of letting them too close. It’s not that you don’t want connection, but you’ve been burned before. You’ve learned to shield yourself with independence, wearing it like a badge of honor. You’ve stood on your own two feet for so long that the idea of leaning on someone else feels foreign, maybe even dangerous. And yet, that guarded heart of yours? It only makes them want you more. It’s the very thing that keeps them captivated, wondering what it would take to break down those walls, to get closer to the real you.

You might have had to grow up faster than others, taking on responsibilities or emotional burdens that weren’t yours to carry. Maybe those around you cared more about your achievements, your capabilities, than they ever did about your well-being. So, you learned to rely on yourself. How strange it must seem to others that someone so confident in their beliefs, so open with their thoughts on life, death, and the universe, can still shy away when it comes to matters of the heart. Love and romance? They scare you in a way nothing else does. You fear losing control, and that fear sometimes makes you want to run before things even get too deep.

And it’s that duality..the brave face you show the world versus the hesitation you feel inside is what leaves them spellbound. You’re magnetic, a natural flirt without even trying, and they can’t get enough of your smile, your laughter, your energy. But just when they think they’re getting closer, you pull back. It’s not that you’re cruel, but you’ve mastered the art of showing just enough to leave them wanting more. You offer a glimpse of something electric, something life-changing, and then, like the wind, you’re gone. They’re left chasing that spark, knowing full well they might never catch it, but unable to resist.

You’re the fire they can’t touch without getting burned, and they don’t even care about the pain. You make them feel alive, make them rediscover that sense of awe and wonder they thought they had lost. Even if it means they’ll hurt in the end, it’s worth it to be near you, to experience that intensity. Sometimes, without realizing it, you can be reckless with other people’s hearts...reckless with your own too. But even in the aftermath of heartache, you find meaning in the lessons learned. You’ve always been one to take the pain and turn it into fuel, into wisdom, into something you can use to keep moving forward.

And maybe that’s what makes you truly unforgettable. You don’t just exist...you burn brightly, unapologetically, and they’re left staring in wonder, unable to look away, even as their hand reaches out, knowing they’ll feel the heat. And still, they’re drawn to you, willing to take the risk, because something about your wild, untamed energy promises that even in the hurt, there’s beauty, there’s growth, there’s life.

[niningtori]

supermodel | part two

part one

pairing: choi beomgyu x you

summary: after finding out one of your closest friends sabotaged your relationship with beomgyu in hopes of having him all to herself, you end up spending a night with him. you may come to regret it when you realize beomgyu may not have been as innocent as he initially seemed.

genre: romance, angst, MELODRAMA, yandere, smut (MDNI!!!)

warnings: MDNI!!! yandere!gyu (super manipulative!gyu at least), more (justified imo) cheating, unprotected sex, oral (m. receiving), creampie, dacryphilia, praise, degradation, pregnancy kink, voyeurism (ig?), dom!gyu, sub!gyu, if i'm missing anything lmk

word count: 6.2k

notes: alright ;_; after much debate i'm reposting this probably only for a few days just so everyone who wanted to read can read it before i (probably) delete again! posting this made me feel rlly insecure for some reason but thanks to my moots and anons i feel a lot better ab it :) at least for a little bit. also, i know the direction may have taken quite the turn but this is genuinely just how it came out 😭 if you don't like it i'm sorry ( ཀ͝ ∧ ཀ͝ )

it’s hard to reason with beomgyu as he presses hot kisses down your neck, but it’s not like you’re not trying. you think you’re trying really hard, actually, but it’s nothing in comparison to the effort he’s putting in to make you lose your mind. you have no control over your moans when he sucks a hickey into your neck. you feel heat pooling in your stomach as he grabs your ass and snakes his other hand up your hoodie to catch one of your hardened nipples between his fingers. he’s finally tasted you and, like a man starved, he’ll be damned before someone takes away what’s his.

“b-beomie, we can’t! let’s go back to my place, at least,” you try to reason, but your resolve is weakening as you feel your pussy wetten under his caresses. 

“shh, hana’s not gonna be home tonight,” he whispers. “just want you so bad, can’t wait.” he looks so earnest, you can’t bear to part from him. his puppy eyes look devastated, so what else can you do besides relent? and he knows it, too. now he’s got you. 

he leads you to hana’s bedroom, where he’s spent countless nights listening to her talk about how much she loves him, has loved him for years. he wants to roll his eyes at this, but he doesn’t want you to misunderstand, so he keeps it to himself. he’ll admit, she really did pull the wool over his eyes when she said you didn’t like him, so he can’t wait to see her reaction when she realizes you two have finally figured it out. if she wants to play dirty, they can both try their hand and see who wins. 

and it feels an awful lot like he’s winning when he sees you undress once again, body bare with traces of him on every part of you. even if he hadn’t marked you up so much, and he has, there’s still evidence of his impact on you leaking out of your pussy. you letting him come inside was truly unexpected, but welcome, nonetheless. he knows, when you’ve sobered up from your lustful daze, you’ll ask him if he’s ever fucked hana raw. you’ll probably cry again and rush to get plan b, but he’ll tell you he’s not stupid. he’d never fuck anyone without protection, especially someone he likes as little as he likes hana. he just likes you so much, he couldn’t help but want to feel you. you’re everything he dared to wish you would be. even better, actually, and now that he’s tasted you, he never wants to stop. 

the feeling of wanting to be close to you reemerges when he sees you dropping to your knees for him. you fiddle with the zipper of his pants and he sighs when cool air meets his bare cock. and you're so perfect with your makeup smudged, hair in disarray, and mouth open, prettily presented for fucking.

you start with a lick of your lips and he’s already rock hard from the anticipation. you grab his base and tease little licks up and down his length. he never thought he’d be particularly into that, really, but you look so hungry for him it makes him whine. finally, you lick the precum off of his tip and he moans when you shallowly take in the tip of his cock, hollowing out your cheeks. you bob your head shallowly and it’s taking every ounce of self control he has not to grab the back of your head and shove himself down your throat. but he doesn’t want to hurt you, so he lets you tease him. for now, at least. you take more and more of him into your warm mouth until you can feel his tip searing the back of your throat. you can’t possibly fit all of him into your mouth, so you take the rest of him in your hands. you look up at him with watery eyes, almost like you’re asking for his approval, and his already thinning patience snaps. he grabs your hair and pumps himself in and out of you. you try to meet his thrusts with teasing swipes of your tongue, never once breaking eye contact. the combination of your gaze and the sight of your drool mixed with his precum dripping out of your mouth drives him crazy. 

“baby, look, you’re drooling all over my cock.” you hum in agreement, but a nasty thought crosses his mind as he remembers that you almost went out with another man tonight.

“mmm, who taught you how to use that slutty little mouth?” he asks, riling himself up for reasons unknown. the thought of someone else seeing you like this is enough to push him to madness. he fucks himself into your mouth mercilessly. you’re coughing and slobbering all over his cock, but it’s only when hot tears pour down your face that he registers what he’s doing. how can he bear to hurt you? he pulls out and you’re gasping for air. 

“shh, it’s okay, you’re okay. c’mere,” he coos, leading you to the bed.

you lay down shakily and he takes a moment just to admire your body and the work he’s done to it. he can’t control the want in his gaze when he sees your pussy dripping on hana’s comforter. it’s sick to see, in a way, but it excites him even more. 

“turn around,” he commands, and you would, you really, really would, but your limbs feel so weak, it’s a chore. he sighs and roughly turns you on your stomach himself. he manhandles you into kneeling on all fours and it’s all you can do not to buckle under such force, but you can’t deny the way it makes your pussy clench around nothing when he does this. as if he can read your mind, he lets out a soft laugh as he lines himself up with your entrance and pushes himself in. you’ve obviously just fucked, but you’re still as tight and hot as the first time. slowly, he feels you stretch and spasm to accommodate his length – pussy gripping him like a vise. he shakes when he feels himself completely sheathed in you. 

“g-good girl,” he praises. “so good for me.” then, without giving you another moment to adjust, he begins thrusting into you. his hips meet your ass and he’s awestruck by the sight of it as the tip of his cock kisses your cervix relentlessly. as he’s pumping into your heat, you don’t mean for your arms to give out from under you, but they do. he’s just fucking you so good you can’t help but feel weak. he chuckles at how you’re becoming undone after just a few strokes, but truthfully? he’s endeared. you were so brave in talking back to him earlier, but that attitude is completely gone as you lay there and let him take you over and over again. 

“nghh… not so hard, beomie,” you moan. 

“is it good, baby? i can feel you milking my cock. tell me it’s good, or i’ll stop,” he threatens.

“mmm, ‘s good! too good!”! you cry.

you’re so busy moaning out beomgyu’s name with your face mashed in the pillows, you really don’t hear the apartment door open and keys being thrown carelessly on the table, but as for beomgyu? he hears it all and it brings a mean, lopsided grin to his face. you’d think he would, at the very least, slow down, but he only rams harder and harder into you. the sound of wetness and skin slapping skin echo throughout the room. hana really wasn’t supposed to be home, this much is true, but what beomgyu didn’t tell you is that she had texted him saying her plans have changed and that he should come over. truly, he couldn’t have conjured up a better outcome than the one unfolding before him.

“beomgyu?!” hana shrieks. you’re so surprised you nearly jump out of beomgyu’s grasp, but he holds your ass in place as he continues his thrusts.

“don’t listen to her, just feel me,” he says in a raspy tone. and what can you do besides listen when he drills himself even harder into you? when you feel the veins of his cock dragging against your insides, you’re tuning out hana’s desperate cries, intentionally or not.

“coming inside, okay?” he, well, you would say ‘asks’, but it’s more of a statement of fact rather than a question. “take it all, baby,” he says as his hips begin to stutter. he smacks your ass — just because he can — and you feel it pulsate throughout your entire body as you clench around him, seeing nothing but white behind your eyelids as your release finally comes along with his.

you’re gasping for air when you finish. he carefully pulls out and watches as your cum and his mix together in the most sinful way. it’s a truly a sight to see, and if he had more time, he would be whipping out his phone and capturing the moment to revisit the next time he’s alone, but hana’s words are cutting into his bliss before he can fully appreciate the sight before him.

“b-beomie? w-what’s going on?” hana asks, tears streaming unabashedly down her pretty face. beomgyu is far too preoccupied to appreciate them, though, as he gently helps you sit up and thoughtfully wipes the drool and tears off of your face. 

“‘what’s going on?’” he begins mockingly. “do you really need me to show you again?” he sneers. 

meanwhile, you feel like a deer in headlights as you meet hana’s gaze. you feel dirty and small as you try your damndest to cover yourself up. hana’s soft eyes harden while she stares at you. 

“you. you did this, you fucking slut,” she spits. you break your gaze and stare down at your naked body. you feel incredibly vulnerable because, as you already know, she’s right. you feel your eyes heat up with tears, this time from guilt and humiliation rather than pleasure.

“you’d better watch your fucking mouth,” beomgyu says, eyebrows furrowed and voice even deeper than usual. 

“i just don’t understand. why? why her? and how could you do this to me? you said you loved me!” she shrieks, grabbing beomgyu’s arm. he harshly pulls away and instead collects your sweats and hoodie. you can’t help but stare. he said he loved her then he turned around and fucked you? oh no. 

“well, i lied, if that’s not clear enough,” he shrugs, gingerly dressing you like you’re some kind of catatonic doll. and, right now, you might as well be as you let him do what he wants. his callous words don’t match his gentle actions and it’s making your brain short-circuit. 

“if and when he does the same shit to you,” she says, looking at you with more hurt than you’ve ever seen on a person, “don’t you fucking dare come crying to me. or any of our friends, actually. just wait ‘til they hear what you fucking did.” you shiver at her ominous words. she’s right, after all. beomgyu dropped her the second you showed interest in him, who’s to say he won’t do the same to you? sure, he’s acting lovey dovey now, but you’ve seen firsthand how quickly his tune can change. you’re absolutely fucked. it’s your word against hers, and with the evidence of your betrayal seeping into her sheets, you don’t like your odds. you can’t help but stare at beomgyu, and, as if he’s reading your mind, he says his next words patiently.

“i love you. i would never hurt you like this.” he loves you now? you continue to look at him doubtfully. his words seem cheap after hana’s unforgiving speech, and he realizes he’s losing you when you don’t respond. hana doesn’t stop there, though.

“if he did this to me, i can’t wait to see what he’ll do to you,” she laughs. hana is, objectively speaking, a lot more of a catch than you are. and to the very bitter end, she won’t let you fucking forget it.

“shut your fucking mouth!” he exclaims and she flinches, as do you. you’ve never seen him so angry and it’s enough to scare you. 

“... i should go,” you croak.

“yeah, you should,” hana ridicules. you do an incredibly shaky walk of shame as you quickly gather your things. 

“hey, wait!” he pleads, but you’re already booking it out of the door. he goes to run after you, but hana grabs him forcefully by his shoulder and he spins around to face her. you slam the door, not wanting to know what kind of makeup sex they will probably be having relatively soon. as soon as you’re gone, hana begins.

“are you fucking crazy? her, of all people?!” she hisses.

“i thought i told you to watch how you talk about her,” he says lowly. his eyes are so intense, she’s momentarily stunned, but he’s crazy if he thinks that’ll shut her up. perhaps to her eventual regret, she says her next words.

“if i tell everyone, she’ll be fucking ruined. she’ll have nobody after this.” 

“so?” 

“so, stay with me,” she says softly, while, to his disgust, grabbing his hands and pleading with him. “stay with me, and i won’t tell anybody.” she looks as pathetic as a dog right now, and her words make him laugh in her face.

“tell them,” he says. 

“w-what?” she sputters.

“tell them all. i want you to tell them how i fucked one of your best friends and got her pregnant. tell them how i fucked her raw in your own bed. go on, i’d love to see their reactions when they find out.” 

“you’re… you’re fucking crazy,” she gasps.

“maybe, but not crazy enough to stay with you,” he shrugs. “i got what i wanted, i don’t need you anymore.” for once, she shuts her mouth. the puzzle pieces finally fit together and her jaw drops in awe.

“you did this on purpose?” 

“maybe you’re not as dumb as you look,” he sneers, and with that, he zips up his pants and pats her cheek. “you were okay in bed, but that’s about it.” 

her tears are falling, but that does nothing to mar her beauty. still, his heart remains unfazed. 

“when she finds out, she’ll leave you,” she sobs.

“and who will she believe? her ex friend who’s out to get her, or me? the only person she has left? i’d love to see who she believes.” his words leave her in even more tears, but he does nothing to placate her. he just grabs his shit and slams the door behind him.

-

hana wastes no time in telling your friends about your scandal. your incoming texts range from “what the fuck is wrong with you” to “is it true?” to “you’d better not show your face to us again”.

you attempt to explain yourself, but to no avail. even if hana lied to you first, you committed the ultimate betrayal with a smile on your face. nobody wants to hear your sob story about your forbidden love with beomgyu. nobody, not even your best friend, dares to defend you now.

the one person who’s on your side has been texting you relentlessly, though. beomgyu’s insistence on making sure you’re okay does little to quell the uneasiness in your heart. hana’s words resound in your head. “if he did this to me, i can’t wait to see what he does to you.” you don’t want to give him that chance, but your resolve is weakening when you feel yourself becoming more and more isolated from the people you used to call your friends. 

for days, you don’t leave your house except to go to work. where else can you go? you don’t have anyone to go out with you anymore. still, beomgyu texts and attempts to call you through it all. his messages are all about how much he loves you, how much he misses you, how much he needs you. how much he promises to make things right with you and how you’re the only one he’s wanted all along. more and more, you feel yourself slipping away. even though you never respond, you still sift through his messages and it’s enough to bring smiles, no matter how small, to your face. he loves you, wants you, needs you. who else do you have in your life to say things like that to you? 

still, the thought of trusting him scares you to your bones. what if he does the same shit to you? you don’t have a support system anymore. you don’t have anybody to rely on when he inevitably hurts you in the same way. why wouldn't he, after all? you’re no match for the kind of girls who come his way. what happens when he gets sick of you and wants to fuck another girl in your bed? you’re stuck with these thoughts as you nurse a bottle of vodka, alone in your apartment with nobody but yourself. this is what you deserve, you think. 

a knock on your door is enough to pull you out of your drunken haze. is it one of your friends? could they have finally gotten over their intial shock and disgust and understood that you didn’t mean for any of this to happen the way it did? you stumble to the door and you’re too drunk to even think about checking who it is before desperately swinging open the door. you are not met with the familiar face of one of your friends, however. instead, you see the face of the boy who’s been haunting your dreams for the past few nights.

“beomgyu?” he looks absolutely devastated, eyes reddened and wet with his face ghostly pale. he reeks of alcohol and he stands almost tremblingly. he doesn’t respond to you, just stares at you with the same intensity that entranced you from the very beginning.

“what are you doing here?” you ask. 

“can i come in? please?” you’ve never been able to say no to him, and you especially can’t in his current pathetic state. you move from the doorway to allow him access and quietly shut the door behind him.

“what do you want?” you try.

“want you,” he sobs, tears finally flowing from his sad brown eyes. “all i want is you.” your heart aches when you see him like this. you thought hana’s reaction was devastating enough, but he looks absolutely wrecked right now, putting her despair to shame, really. 

“i don’t know what to say,” you admit. “we fucked up, plain and simple. and i don’t know how i can trust you after what we did.” you’re not a victim in this, to be clear, but you’re far too vulnerable to accept the heart that he's holding out for you so carelessly. 

“i know, and i'm sorry. i'm so, so sorry. what can i do to make you trust me?” he begs. your already soft heart softens even more at his words, but you have to be realistic.

“i… i don’t think i can. if you had just talked to me in the first place things could've been different,” you reason. this only puts the boy in an even worse state. he’s almost wailing now, and he looks to you for comfort.

“p-please, just please. give me one chance,” he cries, looking absolutely frantic. “i’ll prove it to you, just let me.” he reaches for your face and you didn’t even realize you’re crying until he swipes away your tears. well, you’re already going to hell. what’s the point in atoning for your sins now? 

as if he can read your mind, he musters up a shaky smile before leaning in and giving you a chaste kiss. his lips taste salty, but sweet, and he’s kissing you with a passion you’ve never felt before. you almost believe him when he says you’re the only one. almost.

“h-how do i know you’re not going to do the same thing to me?” you ask unsteadily. 

“i would never,” he says immediately. “i would never hurt you.” at least, not like this. but you don’t know that yet. 

-

in the weeks following his drunken appearance at your door, being with beomgyu is even better than you thought it would be. it’s like a switch has been turned back on and he’s back to treating you like a princess, almost like the months since your “breakup” never happened. he randomly brings you flowers, showers you with kisses, and he can’t seem to keep his hands off of you along with declarations of love, which you never directly reciprocate. no matter how well he treats you, though, there’s an underlying sense of unease. you still find it difficult to fully trust him, and he can tell. it’s driving him to the brink of madness trying to come up with ways to show you how much he cares.

you’re in the middle of pensively reevaluating the nature of your relationship with beomgyu for the 100th time when you hear a knock on your door. at this point, you don't even bother checking who it is because you already know it'll be beomgyu. no matter how desperately you wish it were one of your ex-friends, you’re always met with his face, instead. you open the door and you’re shocked, to put it mildly. standing before you is not the beomgyu you know and (probably) love, but hana.

“we need to talk,” she grumbles. almost as if you’re possessed, you let her in without much fuss. is she here to rekindle your friendship? to tell you she’ll forgive you after what you’ve done to her? 

“hana, listen i’m so incredibly sor—” 

“save it,” she says, lifting her hand. “i’m only here ‘cause i have something i need to say to you. it took me weeks to come here because i don’t even wanna look at you.” you gulp and nod, genuinely anxious as to what she has in store for you.

“i’m just going to tell you straight up. beomgyu’s not who you think he is,” she deadpans. 

“w-what do you mean?” if she’s talking about how he’ll eventually betray you, you’ve already thought of that. why she thinks this is news to you, you don’t know.

“listen to me, he planned this whole fucking thing.” what could she possibly mean by that? he planned to get caught by her? that doesn’t even make sense. “i told him i’d be home the night that i walked in on you.” your jaw drops in horror, but she continues as if she doesn’t notice.

“i think… i think he heard us over the phone and knew you’d be there before meeting with jay. he told me he wanted our friends to find out and to see who you’d believe if i told you. whether you believe me or not, i really don’t give a fuck, but it’s true. he said he got what he wanted, so he doesn’t need me anymore.” she chokes on her last words and you can't help but feel sorry for her, but that feeling is overshadowed by the feelings of anger towards beomgyu. you don’t think hana would lie about this. she looks so flustered and heartbroken, you don’t believe for a second that she’s lying just to rile you up. before you can reply, the door opens and beomgyu’s figure appears in your doorway. he has a smile on his face, but it drops lightning fast when he sees who’s standing there.

“what the fuck are you doing here?” he says with a scowl.

“i’m on my way out,” hana mumbles, pushing past him. he doesn’t even attempt to stop her. he registers the mixed emotions on your face and he can guess what she said to you without much effort.

“let me explain,” he says lowly, already heading towards you to placate you like you’re some sort of wild animal he has to coax. and you’re so angry, you might as well be.

“explain what? that you ruined my fucking life?” you spit. he flinches at your tone, even more so at your next words. “what i don’t understand is why? is my life a fucking game to you?” his face crumbles at this. 

“n-no! never!” he sputters.

“then what is this? what’s your reason for planning for hana to walk in us? is this a kink or something?” he shakes his head frantically. 

“you don’t understand, i just wanted it to be us,” he pleads. “i don’t like them. they’ll just try to take you away from me.” 

“take me away from you? beomgyu, i’m not some fucking toy. i’m a person. a person whose life you fucking ruined for no reason!” you exclaim. you’re so frustrated you could cry, so you do. does he not realize how badly he fucked you over? “you promised you’d never hurt me,” you sob.

“i-i did it for us! they wouldn’t care about how we feel… they’d just take hana’s side without even thinking about it!” he argues, grabbing your hands. you want to pull away, but if you do, that means you’ll be completely alone. 

“you didn’t even give them a chance,” you reason. “now it’s really over,” you say between sobs. “i… i could’ve talked to them, but you ruined it!” 

“i just want you all to myself, is that so bad?” he asks, as if he genuinely can't understand why you’re so upset. he’s actually sick in the head.

“why?!” you ask again, ripping your hands from his grasp.

“because i love you,” he says desperately. “i just love you so much. i’m sorry, i’ll never do anything like this again,” he promises. 

“yeah, you won’t,” you reply bitterly. “because i won’t give you that chance.” 

“w-what do you mean?” he asks, lips trembling and eyes red.

“i’m not doing this with you anymore. this whole thing was doomed from the start,” you reply firmly. he shakes his head as if denying it with fervor will undo what you’ve said, tears now flowing freely from his reddened eyes.

“no, p-please,” he cries. “i only did it because i love you so much. ever since i first saw you, i only ever wanted to be with you. i… i know i fucked up, but it was the only way. believe me, please.” your already soft heart is softening even more as you listen to the desperation in his voice. he sounds so lost and scared, as if he really doesn’t know what he’ll do if you tell him no. you briefly wonder if he’s ever heard the words: “no, beomgyu. you’ve gone too far this time.” but as you watch him come undone before you, you don’t think you’ll be able to be the one who tells him no, anyway. 

“i’m giving you one, and i mean one, last chance. if you fuck up this time, i promise you, you’ll never see me again,” you declare. you don't know what you’re expecting, really, but the sight of even more tears streaming down his face is not it. he grabs you and pulls you in his warm and trembling embrace.

“th-thank you,” he cries. “you won’t regret this.” 

“i’d better not,” you mumble. even if you do, you can’t deny the way your heart skips a beat at his pure, unadulterated need for you. even if you do come to regret it, it’s impossible to look at him right now and say he’s not being sincere. he pulls away from you and hurriedly captures your mouth, and as if your next words will take back what you said, he seals them in your throat before you can manage to get anything more out. as the kiss becomes more heated, you feel something hard and angry poking into your stomach.

“already?” you tease. he actually blushes at this.

“can’t help it. need you,” he replies sheepishly. 

“you need me, huh? is that why you’ve been so bad?” you ask, palming him deliciously through his pants.

“n-not bad! just love you so much, couldn’t stop myself.” your temper actually flares a little at this. you palm him more harshly and his breath catches when you do.

“really? but you’ve been so bad, i don’t think you deserve me,” you say menacingly, pulling your hand away. he audibly whimpers at this.

“no, no, no, please! i’ll be good from now on,” he pleads as he grabs your hand and begins to snake it under the waistband of his pants. you let him, but you don’t take his hardened length into your hand like you usually would. instead, you tease the sensitive area around it, even going so far as to ghost your fingers over his balls, but you conveniently avoid giving him any sort of friction or attention, so he’s gasping when you give him a mean and unexpected tug. 

“p-please stop teasing me,” he cries, eyes so beautiful and watery. “i know i’ve been bad, but i can make you feel so good.” he’s right, in a way. you’ve never and will never feel as good as you do when beomgyu pumps into you and shoots his hot load in your pussy, but he’s deranged if he thinks you’ll let him have you so easily tonight. not after what he’s done.

“hmm, i’m not so sure about that,” you hum. you lead him to your bedroom as if he’s hypnotized. you haven’t even let him enter you yet, if you’re going to let him do so at all, but he’s already acting like he’s drunk on you. 

“strip,” you command simply. without any questions or doubts, he eagerly takes off his hoodie and shoves his pants down, stepping out of them and closer to you. it’s sickeningly sweet to see how possessed he is by you. he tries to take your own clothes off, but you smack his hand away. 

“bad boy,” you say, and he whines like a dog. “lay down.” he does what you say, lying completely exposed on your bed as he gives a few pulls on his throbbing cock. “stop fucking touching yourself or you’re not getting anything from me,” you add, and he whines even louder. 

“please touch me,” he begs, cock standing all red and weeping. 

“you don’t deserve it,” you shrug. you take off your pants and he leches at the image of your pussy dripping wet for him, and so soon. all he can think about is how warm it is and how fervently he wants to be in it. he thinks you’re going to sit on his cock, because that would be the most natural course of action, but all you do is lay next to him and pull something out of your nightstand drawer. a vibrator. are you fucking serious? 

“no!” he begs, already knowing how this is going to go.

“you can take what you get from me or you can beat it,” you bite back. that shuts him up. he’s biting his lip, trying not to get scolded again, but he can’t help but whine again when you spread your legs and turn your vibrator on. 

“ah,” you moan as the rubber tip hits your clit. “feels so good.” 

“i’d feel better,” he insists, eyes widened and desperate like a madman. 

“touch yourself,” you say in response. “i'm not touching that dirty cock of yours, so take care of it yourself.” he doesn’t need to be told twice. he immediately spits on his hand and begins to wildly jerk his weeping cock. he whines at the friction. you, however, are so lost in the feeling of the vibrations pulsating throughout your pussy, you couldn’t seem to care less about what he does. this only makes him whine even louder. he’s experiencing pleasure, sure, but the sounds coming from him are exaggerated and theatrical. he’s just trying to get a rise out of you. he just wants you to look at him, is that too much to ask?

you open your eyes at his petulant noise and say your next words so quietly, if he wasn’t paying more attention, he’d miss them. “kiss me.” so he does. the kiss is filthy and nothing more than the tangling of tongues, but that combined with the stimulation on your poor pussy is enough to make you near the edge. 

beomgyu can tell you’re close, and his kisses become even more heated as he abuses his cock under his hand. he’s moaning into your mouth, showing you, in no uncertain terms, just how badly he wants to be in you instead. 

“let me do it,” he begs. “come around me, instead. it’ll feel so much better.” his dirty words break you out of your trance and you annoyedly shut the vibrator off while tossing it god knows where. you tear his hand away from his cock and mount him, teasingly rubbing yourself against him, but refusing to put it in. he whines and pouts, but you’re far too busy trying to get yourself off to appease him. then, as if he’s possessed, he raises his hips and his tip catches on your entrance. you both gasp at his shallow intrusion. 

“p-please sit on it, it hurts,” he asks rather pathetically. 

“i can’t, beomie. you haven’t even fingered me yet — you’ll break me in half,” you say provocatively. he whimpers at the imagery. “and you've been so bad, how can i let you get what you want? you’ll never learn if i do that.” 

“i’ve learned! i promise, i’ve learned! just, please, help me,” he cries, bucking his hips up and holding your waist so hard you’ll know he’ll leave bruises. 

“mmm, i don’t knowwww,” you drawl.

“please!” and with that, you angle your hips and begin to sink on his thick length. the stretch burns and you can’t help but cry out as you feel your pussy enveloping every inch of him mercilessly. he’s in tears when he feels you throbbing around him, pussy stretching to accommodate how big he is. when you finally, finally take him all in, he can’t help but begin to fuck into you wantonly. 

“b-beomie, slow down!” 

“c-can’t! feels so good,” he says, tears streaming down his pretty face. he grabs your waist even tighter and flips you around so you’re lying beneath him. his cock continues to hammer into you and you’re seeing stars. his mouth is open, drool pooling out of the corners of his lips, and he’s moaning out your name like a prayer.

“pussy so good, so perfect,” he babbles. “missed this. missed feeling you like this.” 

“i missed it too,” you admit. 

“wanted you, wanted you for so long,” he continues. you don’t even think he knows what he’s saying, but you can tell he means every word. he reaches to your stomach and presses down where his cock is ramming into you. your eyes roll back at the pleasure that comes with the pressure. 

“my baby could be in here,” he muses. “our baby.” this should scare you into sobriety, but it does nothing of the sort. you find yourself tightening even further at the thought of him breeding you like a bitch. 

“i’ll take care of you, i swear,” he says as he thrusts so hard your head nearly meets the headboard. “i’ll give you everything you need. sh-shit, baby, wanna fill you up so good you feel me for days,” those words in addition to his sloppy thrusts are what send you over the edge. you clench around him and he hisses at how you’re even tighter than usual. you feel his thrusts become even more sporadic and he’s emptying himself into you unceremoniously. as he softens, he pulls out and you wince at the feeling. to your surprise, he moves down to your pussy and begins to lap up all of the cum like a starving animal. then, he pulls you in for one last nasty kiss. 

-

you don’t know if you necessarily trust beomgyu, but it’s hard not to at least try to when he basically prostrates himself in front of you on a daily basis. he lets you walk all over him, really. if you call him, he comes running. if you’re mad or upset, he soothes you. when you’re being unreasonable, he reasons, anyway. you still haven’t heard from your friends, but you’re starting to accept the fact that you never will. he introduces you to his friends, and surprisingly, they actually welcome you with open arms. apparently, they didn’t like hana very much and knew beomgyu always had a thing for you. you’re not sure how to feel about that, but you’re flattered, nonetheless. 

you call beomgyu crazy, and maybe he is, but he always says it's because he's crazy in love with you. you want to playfully smack him when he says such cheesy words, but you're starting to really believe him.

[sourcherryandsprinkles]

Can you do Conrad with ‘’Is that my shirt?’’

This was the only gif I could find with this shirt...

my taglists are here + you can send requests here at any time

—

It had been thirty minutes since you, Taylor, and Belly settled in front of the TV, yet the three of you couldn't come to a unanimous decision on which movie to watch. Well, truth be told, the indecision was mainly between you and Taylor. Belly was happily munching on popcorn, seemingly unfazed by the movie debate.

‘’Mamma Mia,’’ Taylor exclaimed, advocating for the musical movie choice once again.

However, you were quite tired of musicals and Taylor's less-than-perfect singing renditions, especially after enduring La La Land the night before. 

You shook your head. ‘’No, let’s watch 10 Things I hate about you.’’ 

It was one of your favorite movies. You weren’t a huge fan of rom-coms, but the romance was not too cheesy and the soundtrack was immaculate. Kat’s character was also iconic. You’ll never get tired of watching it.

But Taylor persisted, insisting that Mamma Mia would be a perfect summer movie. She looked to Belly for support and the look on Belly’s face told you you were about to lose this debate.

‘’I haven’t watched Mamma Mia in a long time…’’ 

Feeling somewhat defeated, you let out a sigh, realizing you were outvoted. ‘’Mamma Mia it is then,’’ you reluctantly agreed.

Taylor happily set up the movie, grinning and singing along to all of the songs. 

You were half way through it when the front door opened and the boys returned from their party, making a lot of noises as always. 

‘’Seriously, can you guys keep it down? We're trying to watch a movie here,’’ Taylor scolded them, clearly irritated by their untimely return.

‘’What movie?’’ Steven asked, making his way into the living room, seemingly eager to pester Taylor further.

‘’Oh, is that Mamma Mia?’’ Jeremiah’s face lit up, going off and belting one of the songs as he poured himself a glass of milk in the kitchen. 

You couldn't help but laugh at Jeremiah's enthusiasm. He truly was the life of the party. 

‘’It’s girls only, get out,’’ Taylor asserted, determined to keep their movie time uninterrupted.

‘’I want to watch it too,’’ Steven and Jeremiah protested, plopping themselves on the couch next to Belly and attempting to snatch the popcorn bowl from her.

‘’Absolutely not,’’ Belly retorted, holding onto the popcorn tightly, not willing to share.

Steven's attempt to mockingly tease her was met with a sharp comeback from Taylor. ‘’Did you grow tits while you were at the party, Steven?’’ 

Everyone burst into laughter at Taylor’s witty remark, even Conrad who just entered the living room, walking over to the other end of the couch where you were sitting. 

He sat on the length of the chaise, stroking your bare legs as he leaned in for a quick kiss. 

‘’Did you have fun with the boys?’’ you asked, your attention no longer on the movie.

Conrad shrugged. Being the designated driver sucked…and so did that party. No wonder they came home so early. He would have prefered to stay here and hang out with you, but you had already made plans with the girls. 

You stretched and laid your legs over his lap, settling comfortably into the couch. Conrad shook his head, but didn’t say anything. He liked the weight of your legs over his, the casual intimacy of it. 

Your attention was brought back to your friends when Jeremiah and Taylor began dueting ‘Lay all your love on me’ as if they were part of the movie. Taylor still couldn’t sing, but Jeremiah wasn’t too bad. You smiled at them, amused by their antics, and Conrad smiled back at you, his eyes full of affection as his fingers traced gentle patterns on your skin. 

A few scenes later, his attention was drawn to the navy Cousins rowing shirt you were wearing, and he raised an amused eyebrow. ‘’Is that my shirt?’’ he inquired with a grin, realizing it belonged to him.

You hummed. It was slightly oversized on you, but incredibly comfortable. ‘’We went swimming and I wanted something comfortable to wear after.’’ And it smelled like him. ‘’I hope you don’t mind.’’ 

Conrad shook his head. ‘’It looks good on you.’’

—

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