#and it made the bros kind of sad

[jagerstian]

Reluctant animal lover Zach my beloved <3

"So, that's it then?"

"Yup."

"You're quitting."

"Mhm."

"You don't succeed one time, so you're giving up?"

"Bingo."

Zach refused to look at Chris. For someone so open about being touchy-feely, Chris wasn't very good at empathizing with him. Sure, he'd had failed inventions and evil schemes before in the past that he didn't let drag him down, but those were different. They were half-assed, get-rich-quick schemes made up on a whim. Besides, the Wild Ratts had been working against Zach all those times. Now, when they're working with him, and he's giving it his all, and he still fails? That's worse. That's bad. This failure actually meant something. This proved it, that he wasn't good enough even when he tried. That's why he hated trying. You can never disappoint if you never actually try. Chris didn't get it. Zach called it a strategy, Chris called it an unhealthy coping mechanism. Tomato tomahto.

'What do you know, anyways? You hug trees for fun.'

'Maybe. But which one of us is actually happy?'

'.... I'm happy.'

'... Sure. And I'm a monkey's uncle.'

'You might be, for all I know. I still don't know how those creature power suits work.'

'Zach?'

'Yes?'

'Shut up.'

He zoned back in, Chris's voice droning on, going in one ear and out the other. Something about 'perseverance' and 'anything worth doing is worth working hard for'. Or something. He didn't know, he wasn't really listening. There wasn't any point, he wasn't gonna try being a goody-two-shoes again. He heaved himself up from his chair with a sigh, shuffling his way to the makeshift area the crew had made for him in the Tortuga. 

Chris's mouth closed softly as he watched Zach move across the room, appalled. Who did this brat think he was?

He stormed over to Zach, who was crouched over, packing his bags.

"What do you think you're doing?"

"Packing."

"Well, stop."

Zach gave him a side eye from his low angle. 

"Don't tell me what to do."

"My house, my rules."

Zach scoffed and rolled his eyes.

"You aren't my dad. And even if you were, this isn't a house."

Chris scowled down at him as he continued packing, arms crossed. A devilish grin began snaking its way across his face. He waited until Zach was reaching for one of his items still strewn about, then snatched the closest bag up and booked it. Zach looked after him in shock.

"Did- did you just steal my bag?"

"If you want it back, you'll have to catch me! What're you waiting for? Come get your stuff, Captain Emo!"

Zach made a noise of indignation, even as he scrambled to his feet and took off after Chris.

Chris had a pretty decent head start on Zach, and he planned on using it to his advantage. He hopped on a Buzz Bike and shot down the ramp, kicking up dust clouds as he zoomed away into the wilderness. 

Zach whipped his head around, frantically searching for a vehicle he actually knew how to drive. His gaze fell upon an old mountain bike, half covered by an old sheet. He groaned. He gave one last once-over of all the vehicles stored in the space, but there were none he knew how to work, or had the keys for. He was stuck with the bike. He ripped the sheet off of it, a cloud of dust billowing up around him, making him cough. He kind of hoped he got some kind of weird lung disease, just so he could spite Chris and blame him for it. He threw a leg over and tentatively sat on the cushioned seat. It was admittedly a very nice bike, but that wasn't the problem. No, the problem was Zach hated bike riding, and he was a little rusty. Whatever, that's something you never forget how to do, right? Isn't that what people said? 

He pushed off, starting to roll slowly toward the ramp. He was suddenly not so sure this was a good idea and was about to turn around, when the front wheel slipped over the edge. The bike flew down the ramp and launched Zach down the path Chris had taken, Zach screaming the whole way. 

It was a bumpy ride at first, the "path" having been made by the crew, leading from the Tortuga to the actual path. Once Zach merged onto the main trail, it smoothed out, and was actually a pretty pleasant ride. He wasn't a fan, but he didn't hate it, either. After a few minutes of peaceful gliding, he passed a varmint that seemed to be struggling. He rode by for a few feet before coming to a stop, grumbling to himself.

"Since when did I get so soft."

He hopped off the bike and turned around to see what all the commotion was about. It was a squirrel trying to get to a nut. It had been placed under a glass cup, within the squirrel's view, but too heavy for it to tip over. 

Zach ignored the anger that flared up at the sight. He lifted the cup, and the squirrel snatched the nut before scampering off up a tree. He scowled. Ungrateful rat.

Hopping back on the bike, he continued on down the path. Before too long, he came across another critter in trouble. A bird this time, crying from up in a tree. A nest lay in the ground beneath the tree. Zach didn't hesitate to stop this time, simply popping off and picking up the nest. Looking up the tree, he scowled. He would have to climb it. Luckily it was a fairly easy tree to climb, and even he managed it without incident. He placed the nest in a secure-looking nook, and climbed back down. His hands and clothes were a little dirty, and his cheeks were flushed slightly from the exertion, but he was satisfied. He didn't know why he felt satisfied, it's not like he cared or anything. He continued on his way, peddling a little faster in an attempt to escape the notion of him having a heart as big as one of the Wild Kratts crew. 

The last creature he encountered was when he was nearing the end of the path. A kitten in a tree. It was crying and meowing like its life depended on it. As far as Zach knew, its life did depend on it. He didn't know much about varmints. He rushed over to the tree. It wasn't too high up, the branch about three feet higher than he was. 

'That's not so high, but to such a little thing it must seem scary.'

"Ok, Varmint, I'm gonna help you. But only because you're clearly incapable of helping yourself."

He lifted his hands up. 

"Don't be scared, I'll lift you down. But if you scratch me, I will drop you."

The kitten had stopped meowing and eyed him warily. It looked Zach in the eye, sincerely shining past his frown. The kitten sniffed his hands before gingerly placing one paw on them, and then another. It fit in his delicate hands comfortably, a little ball of purring fluff. He lowered his arms and held it to his chest, feeling its purrs as it rubbed its head against him. 

"Huh. You're… not so bad, really. I mean-", he quickly clarified. "You're not bad, but that doesn't mean I like you. You're still a varmint, and I'm still a bad guy." 

The kitten mewled in response before wriggling a bit, indicating it was ready to be put down. Zach released it and it strutted behind him. He turned around to watch it go, and was met with Chris smiling at him. 

"Zach Varmitech, what was that?"

His face flushed furiously. 

"Nothing! It was nothing! You didn't see shit, Wild Ratt!"

"That wasn't nothing, that was you helping an animal! And you did that one all on your own that time! That's amazing!"

"... what do you mean I did 'that one' all on my own?"

Chris rubbed his neck sheepishly.

"I maybe pretended to be that squirrel. And Martin was maybe the bird."

Zach stared at him blankly. Martin emerged from the foliage and stood beside Chris.

"We just wanted you to feel better! We wanted to prove to you that you can be good, even if you mess up sometimes." He said.

"Turns out, you didn't need us to help you do that. You did it all on your own, with this little guy." He bent down and picked up the kitten, scratching it behind the ears. "He wasn't part of the plan at all." Chris finished.

Zach looked at the kitten, then at Chris. Chris cleared his throat awkwardly.

"So, what do you say? Will you give it another try?"

"We all want you here, Zach. Especially Chris", Martin said with a shit-eating grin. Chris punched him in the shoulder.

"One slip up isn't gonna change that." Chris finished.

Zach sighed. 

"Fine. But only so you'll quit lecturing me about it."

The two brothers whooped in victory, high-fiving for officiality. 

"Now that mission is accomplished, let's go back to the Tortuga. I'm starving", Martin said. "You two can share a spaghetti plate, 'Lady and the Tramp' style", he sniggered.

Zach tried to hide how many butterflies had been stirred up in his gut.

"You're insufferable."

"Yeah, you're the worst and I will kick you in the shins", Chris said, setting the kitten down to scamper back over to Zach. Chris motioned for him to follow them. 

"C'mon, Captain Emo, let's get some lunch."

"Ha ha, very funny. Give me back my bag."

Chris began walking off with Martin, pretending he hadn't heard Zach. 

"Hey! Give me back my bag, Chris! I swear I'll-"

He chased after him, Chris looking over his shoulder and yelping before taking off, Zach yelling after him.

"What's yours is his! It's in the wedding vows!" Martin yelled after them.

They yelled back simultaneously.

"Shut up!"

[ntj2pj]

[dont-offend-the-bees]

Fuck I hate being an adult. I need a more adult adult to help with the volatile emotional situation.

[nothinggold13]

*watches the prequel trilogy with the og trilogy once* GUYS I THINK I UNDERSTAND STAR WARS NOW

[chirpsythismorning]

I finally got around to watching @lesbianmindflayer’s Top Ten Hints Mike is Gay video… The Snow Ball one added a whole other layer of context to those scenes that didn’t really click for me until now—

[padfootastic]

One of my favorite semi-crack headcanons is that Narcissa actually does look like her relatives, she’s got naturally black hair and gray eyes, but she initially started wearing glamor charms/charms to change the color after the war to avoid the number of people giving her suspicious looks for her resemblance to two notorious Death Eaters and her husband who’d only avoided a conviction through Ministry ineptitude and legit everyone suspects him of lying or also lied but knows the truth, but then she just fell into habit of doing this (and uses relatively permanent charms. They can be undone, but they don’t need to be constantly reapplied). Bella escapes from prison and says “what the hell happened to your hair—and your eyes” straight away, first thing she says to her sister after over a decade; Narcissa shrugs and says looking like her convicted criminal cousin and sister wasn’t winning her any favors, better swing the opposite direction to see if that helps. Andromeda, who looks like Bella’s twin, still got suspicious looks but marrying a Muggleborn and having his kid went a long ways toward making people trust her; she has a scathing commentary on her sister deadass changing her appearance to try to dodge the DE allegations and it is one of the first things she says to Sirius after meeting him again. Draco genuinely cannot recognize younger photos of his mother and fully thinks this is her natural appearance; he gets a nasty shock when he learns otherwise and he only discovers the truth because Rabastan was telling his sort of nephew stories of what they all used to be like and found a photo album that had their old pictures. Rabastan watches the kid stare at 16 year old Narcissa Black with her little cousins at her side—all three looking near identical and laughing together—and wonders if he broke the kid and if so, can he fool Narcissa into thinking he didn’t play a role in this; he sadly decides he can’t and frantically tries to calm Draco down, because if Narcissa doesn’t hex him into next year, she’ll just tell Bella and Bella most certainly will. Sirius once saw a recent photo of Cissy and choked on his breakfast, pre-seeing Andy again, asking who the hell that woman was because it sure isn’t his cousin. Upon the younger lot confirming that’s just how she looks now, he hollers for Tonks to go get her mother, Sirius needs to find out what the hell her sister is up to. This is the first time the younger kids meet Andromeda and she makes a hell of an impression

ok but why is this actually hilarious lmao

i think i’ve seen something adjacent to this in a fic where someone (sirius?) makes a crack ab narcissa partially dying her hair blond a la the movies to try and fit in better w the maggots and the thought is honestly too funny.

some teenage girls get a tattoo of their bfs, some teenage boys carve their crush’ names into their hands, and narcissa black permanently colors her hair blond and staunchly stands by that decision well into her adult years (while resolutely cursing her fair skin for betraying her embarrassed flush)

[hoperenae]

Turning Heads (a Haikyuu fanfic by hoperenae)

PREVIOUS — SERIES MASTERLIST — NEXT

PART 26- Sorry

The third set was a steady uphill battle. We each took the lead several times, and everyone was truly at the top of their game. I had never felt sharper, more in tune with my body’s movements. About halfway through, we were leading 17-16. It was our longest rally yet, but we refused to let the ball drop. I jumped up for the spike and sliced my cleanest cross shot yet. Iwaizumi stretched to try to pick it up but was half a second too late. 

Once again, Aoba Johsai was the first to reach 20 points, but we were only one point behind this time. With Daichi’s encouraging words, we tied it up. Before we knew it, we were back at deuce, 24-24. With Kageyama’s brilliant setter dump, we made it to match point. In another never-ending rally, Oikawa chased the ball out of the court, pointed to Iwaizumi, and set the ball toward him from insanely far away. I was so distracted by Oikawa crashing into the courtside chairs that I almost didn’t notice Daichi receiving Iwa’s spike. Tanaka dove for the ball and Asahi spiked it, but they received it. 

After we traded the ball a couple more times, we finally had a clear chance to score. Hinata got a good running approach and spiked the ball right into the blockers fingertips. Oikawa was poised to receive it, but he was too late. The ball hit the floor and dramatically bounced several times before coming to a stop at the back wall. The room was silent, and then…we erupted.

I clapped my hand over my mouth and my vision blurred as tears flooded my eyes. Just like last time, I collapsed to the ground in disbelief. But unlike last time, I couldn’t stop the massive grin from spreading across my face. I felt invincible.

I saw everyone else run to Hinata and Kageyama, so I did the same. I jumped on Kageyama’s back and ruffled his hair with my fist. 

“You brilliant bastard!” I cried as the others joined in and did the same to Hinata. We all hugged and cried and laughed and smiled like we never had before. When it was time to line up, coach practically had to pull us all apart. When we approached the other team at the net, I finally locked eyes with Oikawa. 

His eyes were dark and intense, and his gaze was fixated on Kageyama. A seemingly permanent scowl was pasted on his face. When he shook my hand, he looked at me and his face softened for a half a second before he quickly looked away.

We said our thank yous to the crowd and huddled back up as a team, slapping each other’s backs and shedding a few tears of joy. After a quick post-game chat, coach told us to load up and we would talk more back at the school.

Just as I was about to walk out the front doors, I spotted the Seijoh boys toward the end of the hallway, gathering their things to begin their solemn ride home. Oikawa and Iwa were talking with their heads bowed low, like they were too heavy to keep upright. A few pieces of my heart broke off. I approached them cautiously. When I was near enough, they lifted their heads and saw me. Iwa nodded at me and gave Oikawa a slap on the shoulder before walking away to give us privacy.

“Hey,” I said, barely above a whisper. Oikawa said nothing. I cleared my throat. “Listen, I—”

“Please, don’t,” Oikawa said. His gaze was on his shoes beneath him, and when he lifted his head, I saw his nose twitch like it did when he was about to cry.

“Just listen to me, okay?” I paused, and when he didn’t say anything, I took it as my cue to continue.

“I’m not gonna tell you that I feel bad for winning because I don’t. We deserved that win. We worked our asses off for that win. But I am gonna say that I’m sorry this was your last shot at nationals. I’m sorry that we took that away from you. I’m sorry you won’t get to play volleyball with your friends anymore, Toruu.”

And with that last line, I knew I had hit a sore spot. But instead of yelling at me, instead of telling me to screw off and leave him alone, Oikawa Toruu burst into tears and crumpled into me, his head resting on my shoulder and arms at his side.

I wrapped my arms around his midsection and let him stay like that for a bit until eventually, his sobs subsided, and he lifted his head from me.

“You have to win,” he sniffed, wiping his nose on his shirtsleeve. “Win, and then win some more. Defeat them all.” He furrowed his brow sternly.

“We will,” I declared, sticking out my fist. Oikawa nodded, and his lips curved up in the slightest attempt of a smile.

TAGLIST: @bokuroibi @lemurzsquad

[kethabali]

very pleased with today's food choices

[thotsfortherapy]

hmmmm... ran into my ex today

[ironmanstan]

So much work to do but im actually doing it which scares me more than the fact i have work to do and u can tell bc i keep fucking posting like this

[ilostyou]

also i think i started getting callouses on my fingers from playing guitar so regularly

[fingertipsmp3]

Still not over how I legitimately woke up this morning bawling my eyes out

[victory-cookies]

bro I’ll never again be able to do it like I was doing it in high school

[oconswrld]

Made in Hungary. - F1 Grid x Driver!Reader

summary: Hungarian!Reader takes a couple of the drivers home to her home town.

__

yourusername Introducing the millionaires to Hungarian life !! pic 1; the family, pic 2; lando after i made him drink 4 shots of pálinka, pic 3; i fucking love coming home, i missed the shops

view all the comments...

landonorris that home made shit is strong..

-> yourusername the beauty of magyarország (Hungary)

-> carlossainz55 she also made me drink that shit. i think i pissed my spanish blood out

lance_stroll can't wait to pay for all the drinks 😒

-> yourusername lance youre so cute im going feral

username1 bro i saw them swimming in balaton and tell me why lance was being drowned by carlos 😭

-> carlossainz55 i swear he's okay.. just.. enjoying the sun in the water.. upside down..

-> username3 BYE WHY DO THEY DO THIS EVERYTIME Y/N IS KIND AND BRINGS THEM HOME

sebastianvettel Be nice kids. I still wanna learn Lance's goulash recipe that he stole from Y/n's grandma

-> lance_stroll sorry can't do. it's exclusive that i got it. 🤷🏻‍♂️ (Gulyás*)

-> username2 they done turned him hungarian🥲

charles_leclerc 3 minutes ago

captioned; they're bonding.. it's scary.. | tagged; lance_stroll ; yourusername

yourusername guys, type shit!!! im so sad the break is ending so make sure to check out my jpg from my favorite moments !!

view all the comments...

charles_leclerc even if i only joined at the end i loved it😞

-> yourusername thank you for coming sharles

landonorris thank god im getting unlocked from my cage..

-> carlossainz55 back! 🤼 i said back! 🤼

__

[tgcg]

candid detail. my biggest project so far

hey happy new year

CG: DAVE?

TG: yeah?

CG: SOMETHING’S KIND OF FUCKING ME UP RIGHT NOW AND I NEED TO TELL YOU SPECIFICALLY ABOUT IT IN CANDID DETAIL.

TG: oh shit

===

TG: yeah whats up

TG: not too often i get to be the sole audience to karkats grievances

CG: PFF, BULLSHIT. YOU'RE PRIVY TO WAY MORE ABOUT MY GRIEVANCES THAN BASICALLY ANY OF MY SURVIVING AND PRESENT FRIENDS, BY A SIGNIFICANT MARGIN, AND YOU KNOW IT.

TG: yeah and im boutta add another im like broses up on that hill bundled up in a long ass list of things that make the homies upset

TG: lay it on me

===

CG: OKAY. SO.

…

CG: I’M KIND OF THINKING ABOUT JUST. US AND OUR BRO-DOM.

===

TG: oh

CG: LET ME FINISH.

CG: ALL THIS TIME I’VE BEEN FUCKING FORCED TO SPEND IN THE DREAM BUBBLES MADE ME REALISE SOMETHING, AND THAT’S THAT…

===

CG: THIS IS KIND OF RARE, RIGHT?

TG: what

TG: us

CG: YEAH! LIKE… THERE’S SO MANY THANKFULLY DEAD KARKATS I’VE HAD THE INSURMOUNTABLE GODDAMN DISPLEASURE OF FAILING TO AVOID THAT DON’T LIKE YOU, BARELY MET YOU, OR EVEN JUST DON’T CARE ABOUT YOU.

===

CG: IT’S THE RARE AMBIVALENCE THAT REALLY GETS TO ME. I ABSOLUTELY UNDERSTAND A TIMELINE’S KARKAT FIRMLY DECIDING THAT THEY HATE YOUR ASS. NON-ROMANTICALLY I MEAN. THAT HAS BEEN ME, FOR FUCK’S SAKE. BUT THERE WAS NEVER, EVER!!! A POINT WHERE I JUST FELT NOTHING ABOUT YOU AT ALL.

CG: EVEN WHEN I INITIALLY HAD THE MISFORTUNE OF SEEING YOUR DOUCHEBAG SPECTACLES YOU GOT FROM YOUR BRO ON THE SCREEN, I AT LEAST HAD A STARTER DISH OF SKEWERED CONTEMPT TO WHET MY APPETITE. IT’S IMPOSSIBLE TO IMAGINE NOT FEELING ONE WAY OR ANOTHER ABOUT YOU.

===

CG: ONE TIME I MENTIONED YOU IN THE MIDDLE OF A THREE-WAY ARGUMENT AND ONE OF THE OTHER KARKATS SAID "WHO?"

CG: "WHO?"!!!!

TG: now thats fucked up

CG: IT IS! AND THAT'S WHAT MADE ME FIRST REALISE THAT NOT EVERY KARKAT IS GETTING TO HANG OUT WITH EVERY DAVE, AND VICE VERSA. AND THIS IS GOING TO SOUND LAME AS SHIT IN A WAY THAT I’LL NEVER EVER LIVE DOWN, BUT. I FEEL BAD FOR THEM ABOUT IT! YOU KNOW?

===

TG: well you always feel bad about around and towards other yous so thats

TG: wait

TG: is or is not the nature of this moment of self-pity fuelled by malice anger disgust or any similar terms slash phrases

CG: I MEAN, FOR ONCE? DON’T GET ME WRONG, THE MALICE ANGER DISGUST ET CETERA IS STILL THOROUGHLY PERMEATING THE WHOLE ORDEAL. THE DAY I LOSE CONTEMPT FOR MY ALTERNATE SELVES IS THE DAY I GET TAKEN OUT BACK AND PUT DOWN LIKE THE LAME HOOFBEAST I’VE ALWAYS DREAMT OF BEING. BUT…

CG: I ACTUALLY JUST FEEL SAD FOR THEM, STRAIGHT UP. INDEPENDENT FROM TERMS PREVIOUSLY MENTIONED.

===

TG: damn

CG: AND THAT FEELS INCREDIBLY WEIRD TOO. I CAN’T EVEN ARGUE WITH THEM ABOUT IT, IT JUST MAKES ME FEEL THIS SHITTY, SHOCKINGLY QUIET… GRIEF? ALMOST? FOR THEM. GENERAL NON-TROLLIAN FEELINGS. AND EXCEPTIONALLY NON-STANDARD IN A KARKAT-TO-KARKAT CONVERSATION, AS YOU MIGHT HAVE GUESSED.

CG: BUT I KNOW IF I TOLD ANY OTHER EMOTIONALLY CONSTIPATED REFLECTION OF MY OWN FECULENT INNER FILTH TO TALK TO YOU, OR EVEN JUST LOOK AT YOU ONE TIME, THEY’D ONLY SEE IT AS ANOTHER PERSONAL AFFRONT. LIKE I JUST TOLD THEM "HEY, SHIT ALL OVER YOUR FROND AND SNIFF IT, IT’LL BE AMAZING JUST TRUST ME, ABSOLUTELY ZERO REASON NOT TO."

===

TG: you come up with the most potent mental images man youre the wordmeister of viscerally gross as hell vocab

CG: THANK YOU.

===

CG: AND LIKE… SHIT, I DEFINITELY WOULD’VE FELT THAT WAY BEFORE I GOT TO KNOW YOU! I UNDERSTAND THE INNER MACHINATIONS OF THOSE IMBECILIC NOOKSTAINS BETTER THAN ANYONE EVER COULD, DESPITE MY BEST EFFORTS.

CG: KARKATS UNIVERSALLY DECIDING THAT THEY JUST CANNOT LIKE YOU ON PRINCIPLE IS A CRISIS OF SHIT HAPPENSTANCES. THE HAPPENINGS ARE ALL OUT OF WACK, COSMICALLY.

CG: LIKE EVERY ME WRITHED OUR WAY OUT OF THE BROODING CAVERNS AND THE FIRST CONSTELLATION WE SAW PEELING THROUGH THE EXOSPHERE, TWINKLING IN THE REFLECTION OF OUR HUGE RED GANDERBULBS, WAS A PAIR OF SHADES GETTING COVERED IN GASOLINE, FOLLOWED BY A CONSTELLATION OF A LIT MATCH.

CG: A SIMPLE EQUATION WITH A VERY SIMPLE SOLUTION.

CG: A SYSTEMIC EPIDEMIC, IF YOU’LL PARDON MY BULLSHIT.

===

TG: it is a goddamn catastrophe sweeping the karkat population

TG: presidents on the headlines trying to get karkats everywhere to stop quarantining their asses and have a real heart to heart among themselves about the issue but they keep isolating anyways

CG: I STILL DON’T KNOW WHAT THE HELL A PRESIDENT IS. YOU’VE FAILED TO DESCRIBE IT AS ANYTHING MORE THAN A POORLY-SELECTED "DUDE CONDESCE" WHO DOES NOTHING PRODUCTIVE AND THEN EITHER DIES OR RUINS EVERYTHING, OR SOME CHAOTIC COMBINATION OF THE TWO.

TG: well that is exactly what it is but wait good point

===

TG: tragedy strikes as the karkat population reveals it doesnt generally know what a president even is so it means jack shit to them that this dude is trying to get their attention

TG: and mr president he is getting voted the fuck out of office over this blunder just an embarrassing display

TG: the public trust has plummeted off the fucking chart and cratered the damn ground like a meteor

TG: or he could be the tenth to die in office yknow there was a pretty big stretch of no in-office deaths til 2009 so maybe some catchup would be good for everyone

CG: ARE YOU TELLING ME YOU WANT TO MAKE ANOTHER PRESIDENT, AND THEN KILL HIM?

TG: not me personally i just wanna be there and see it also is that dream bubble fucking huge or what

TG: must be the size of

===

TG: jupiter

===

TG: look all im saying is the end of the world coincided pretty notably with a dry spell in the presidential kill:death ratio

TG: i was tragically too busy not dying to see obama die live on television when an errant meteor hit the white house that was my one chance

CG: PFFFT.

TG: i want to keep a comically aloof finger on the pulse of the shit but i do not want to be among the shit

TG: but anyways guess its my turn on the pedestal

CG: BE MY FUCKING GUEST.

===

TG: yknow uh im not gonna lie if present me went back to me age thirteen sippin my dubious aj in my pre-apocalyptic layer of hell that was texas and told me

TG: hey that gray text dude is probably gonna be your best friend if you give him a shot yall could be sweet bros in real life itll be awesome

TG: i mean disregarding the fact i already doomed that guy because i dont remember that happening to me

TG: id probably be casting some wicked aspersions on that shit

===

TG: our whole friendship feels like a plot twist to my damn life story

CG: I HEAR YOU.

TG: its like our narratives bumped into each other hard on the street and decided yknow what yeah this pavement is pretty cosy lets talk about your dad

TG: but

===

TG: dont get your think pans too wrapped up in that different timeline stuff

CG: IT’S THINK PAN. SINGULAR. NOBODY HAS MORE THAN ONE THINK PAN, EVER. IT IS A SINGULAR ORGAN. IF YOU WOULD LET ME READ A TROLL BIOLOGY BOOK TO YOU ONE TIME WE’D STOP BUMPING INTO THIS ISSUE.

TG: gotcha and no

CG: OBVIOUSLY.

TG: but anyways dude look

===

TG: i am literally a time dude and i can tell you right now with all the sage wisdome of my knightitudes

TG: not a good way of looking at it

TG: ive met daves that didnt like you either it doesnt affect jack or shit because those daves arent me

TG: like they are in a way but

TG: me and all those other guys spent the whole game honing down these doomed timelines to a fine point and that point has obviously involved a whole lot of hanging out with you

CG: …

===

TG: so

TG: maybe they just missed the point while you and me were on the breaking edge of that shit

TG: we got to the bottom line of it so it doesnt matter yknow

CG: HUH.

===

TG: and i mean plus

===

TG: ive seen a handful of alternate daves and karkats who get along uh great apparently so

TG: yknow

===

CG: WHAT?

TG: you know what i fucking mean im not saying it

CG: ROLLING YOUR SHOULDERS AND SAYING "yknow" GENERALLY DOESN’T CONVEY FUCKING ANYTHING MEANINGFUL IN A CONVERSATION, DAVE.

CG: I’M NOT A PSYCHIC. YOU’RE GOING TO HAVE TO TELL ME WHAT YOU MEAN. IN CANDID DETAIL.

TG: its besides the point anyways

===

TG: the point is its you right here that matters overall and you right here is chilling with me so thats gotta mean at least one or two things

CG: OKAY, OKAY, YEAH… I GET WHAT YOU’RE SAYING. I REALLY DIDN’T THINK ABOUT IT LIKE THAT.

CG: YOU HAVE TO UNDERSTAND BY NOW HOW IT’D BE REALLY FUCKING DIFFICULT FOR ME TO WRAP MY THINK PAN AROUND THE CONCEPT OF ME BEING THE RIGHT VERSION OF ANYTHING.

CG: BUT I FEEL LIKE THE AMOUNT OF TIME WE'VE SPENT TOGETHER CUMULATIVELY IN THIS TIMELINE MAKES UP FOR THE AMOUNT OF DAVES AND KARKATS WHO NEVER SPENT ANY AT ALL, BY AT LEAST TENFOLD.

===

TG: heh yeah

HAHAH.

===

CG: GOD. WHO WOULD’VE GUESSED THAT KARKAT VANTAS WOULD GET TOO FAR INTO HIS OWN THINK PAN ABOUT THIS BULLSHIT, RIGHT?

TG: stop repeating the words think and pan i get it already

CG: ARE YOU SURE? TOTALLY SURE? ABSOLUTELY ASSFUCK CERTAIN OF YOURSELF?

TG: yes dude

CG: ALRIGHT. KEEP IN MIND THIS WILL BE ON THE TEST LATER.

TG: im acing that shit i swear to god youre gonna eat your damn foot

CG: STRUT POD

TG: when i pass that shit to oblivion

TG: youre gonna regret doubting me

CG: OKAY, DAVE. THEN EXPLAIN TO ME WITH ALL YOUR SAGE WISDOME: WHAT IS A "LUMPSQUIRT"? AND REALLY, TAKE YOUR TIME THINKING ABOUT THIS. GOD KNOWS WE'VE GOT MOMENTS A-FUCKING-PLENTY TO SPARE.

TG: as the literal god of time in your local area i sure as hell do

CG: GO ON THEN.

===

TG: …

TG: pass

CG: EXACTLY.

CG: ANYWAYS, I’M STILL GOING TO GO AROUND FEELING ANOTHER LAYER OF PITY FOR THOSE GRAY BULGEMUNCHERS THAT DON’T GET TO BE FRIENDS WITH YOU. NOT THAT ANYTHING ANY KARKAT COULD FUCKING DO WOULD EVER MAKE THEM DESERVING OF IT, BUT THAT’S ANOTHER CAN OF DIRT NOODLES ENTIRELY.

TG: yeah i feel bad for anyone who isnt buddy-buddy with the david stri too

CG: OF COURSE YOU DO. I’M GLAD WE’RE ON THE SAME PAGE HERE.

===

TG: but also

TG: any dave who missed out on a slice of the realest homes in paradox space is a tragedy in my eyes

CG: Y--

TG: let me finish

TG: i just dont let it get to me so much cus… first of all ive been having to not let time shit get to me this whole damn game but also

TG: i know i have you here and thats whats important

TG: ok not "have" just

TG: how the fuck do i phrase that

TG: i know whatever is happening with other "us"es whatever shits goin down

TG: i can wake up and watch movies with you or hell i can even hang with you in there if i bump into you and thats what matters to me in this bro-dom thats what i wanna do

TG: and thats some real shit i just said feel free to co-sign it

CG: …

===

TG: karkat i meant it

CG: … THANKS.

TG: no problem

[yutasbellybuttonpiercing]

slowly, i'm going down

access full masterlist here!

pairing: song mingi x reader (no pronouns mentioned, reader has female anatomy)

au/genre: college!au, tutor!reader, mingi does not give a shit about studying, smut

word count: 4816 words

warnings: voice kink (AHHHHH), oral and fingering (reader receiving), reader is a little mean, kitchen sex, anime references, cringe, a joke about adhd, dirty talk... um..., oh right Mingi has a big dick (wbk), everyone's a little silly, unprotected sex (boo ‼️👎🏻), premature ejaculation almost, creampie, cum eating... (not reader...), i think that's it. NOT PROOF READ YET!!

synopsis: mingi hates studying, but what he hates way more than that is being perceived as stupid. what mingi loves on the other hand, are pretty people getting flustered about his voice

or

mingi shows you exactly what he hates and loves.

a/n: i was almost ready when i saw this tiktok and it completely blocked my mind because it's SO FUNNY, but at the same time, it's men being dudes, dudes being bros, and that kind of made it hard for me to continue. i apologize for the 24h delay 😞

taglist: @byuntrash101 @goquokka @ashwoodforest @choisansnotsolegalwife

Mingi is not one to sit there and look at books. Or papers. Or anything that doesn't move and feed his brain with bright colors and his ears with noises, really. He prefers to vibe, and studying is definitely not the vibe. Sadly, studying is a part of his life as a university student. Yes, he chose this path for himself and yes, he was aware that it would involve studying. Still, now that it's really happening and is not just an obstacle to overcome in the far, far future, Mingi kind of wishes he'd chosen something else to do with his life. It's just exhausting, why would he waste the precious time he has left on planet earth on something that doesn't get the serotonin floating? He's pretty sure he has some undiagnosed ADHD simmering up there, but who is he to judge that? He's certainly not studying to become a doctor or whatever.

Anyway, given the fact that Mingi doesn't like to study, he's not had much experience with it in the first place. He's barely gotten his way through school, but uni is a different level. Hence, he needs someone to 1) teach him how to study and 2) make him study, or rather: have a judging eye on him while he is supposed to study, so the fear of being called out on it may light a fire under his ass and force him to bury his nose between the stinky pages of an old library book (on that note: he also needed someone to show him how to check out books from the library).

And that's why you are here, every Thursday afternoon, sitting at the sad excuse of a kitchen counter slash dining table in Mingi's scandalously expensive apartment given its size, growling next to him every time you catch him analyzing the bumps on his wallpapers instead of the letters on the pages.

Mingi generally likes you, even though you are a bit scary, he has to admit, or maybe that's the appeal. You are polite, but you have a way of looking at him that makes him feel like he's getting mansplained by your eyes. Your taunting gaze on him makes him feel small, and he doesn't like that at all. It makes him feel like all these years of drinking milk to make him stand at the 1.84m he is at today were in vain. You always have that one expression on your face, and maybe that's just Mingi's subconsciousness telling him to STUDY HARD FOR GOD'S SAKE, but in the way your eyebrows would scrunch together just the tiniest bit, he reads: God, he is fucking stupid.

He doesn't know which (since he did not pay attention in biology class, nor is he even sure they teach that in biology class) chemical in his brain suffers an allergic reaction every time you look at him like that, but there has to be one. There is nothing that Mingi hates more than being called stupid. Well, except for studying, maybe.

Call him lazy, call him a scalawag, call him witty for being able to get through all of school without reading a single one of the set books if you must, but do not call him stupid.

The only problem is that you haven't, well, called him stupid per se. It's just how Mingi interprets your stares. Also, he desperately needs you because he doubts there will be many other contestants that are okay with getting paid as little as you are (which is all Mingi has left by the end of a month full of Pokémon trading cards). So Mingi just has to sit back and relax and simply take it because, apparently, that's what he gets for not studying his entire life.

A loud ringing wakes Mingi from his peaceful afternoon nap - one that he has really earned this time around, he managed to look through his study notes for a full 20 minutes during his lunch break!

Disoriented, Mingi raises his head to make out his location and what year he is in. It rings again. Slowly, Mingi recognizes the shrill sound as his door bell. He slowly gets up, a quick glance in the mirror tells him that his hair is an absolute mess (which is really a crowning achievement given his buzz cut length) and he has imprint marks from his blanket all over his right cheek, but his sleepy mind doesn't even take it in. Mingi furrows his brows and shakes his head. Who would dare to disturb his peaceful slumber at this ungodly hour (4pm)?

The answer, of course, stands right in front of his door. With your arms crossed and the tip of your shoe drumming a dent into Mingi's "come in if you're a silly baka"-door mat, you raise an unimpressed brow at the sleepy shell of Mingi that blinks one eye after the other.

A few seconds pass until Mingi finally realizes who you are, and his mouth forms an 'o'-shape. Immediately after, he furrows his brows once again, his body slumping forward a bit because: why on God's green earth are you here? Then, it hits him like a truck, the aftermath of the collision blowing the remaining sleep out of his eyes: it's Thursday afternoon!

"Sorry," he says and sheepishly scratches the back of his head, then steps aside to let you enter.

"It's fine, it's only freezing cold outside," you stare at him before stepping in, shudder as you kick your shoes off, slip into Mingi's guest slippers and hurry inside. Mingi's brain does not register the sarcasm drenching your words.

"Let's get to it, shall we?" You ask as Mingi finally manages to follow you into the kitchen. You sit, take out a few sheets of paper from your backpack, then look over questioningly as Mingi has not even moved a millimeter, but instead started yawning like his life depends on it. Your eyes drift down his body. "Or maybe after you've put on some pants?"

Mingi freezes, looks down to confirm that, indeed, he's not wearing pants, but Naruto boxer shorts, then covers his crotch with his hands and buzzes off into his room.

Minutes later, Mingi reenters the kitchen, a pair of sweatpants hanging low on his hips that, yes, he checked twice if he's wearing them the right way around. As mentioned, he is generally unable to properly focus on his studies, but today, it's exceptionally bad. Of course, you'd notice.

"Mingi, are you okay?" There's worry in your eyes – a sight Mingi has not seen. Ever.

"I'm fine, just tired," he mumbles, eyes unfocusing as he stares ahead.

"Yeah, you are? Why?" Mingi's tired mind cannot question why you suddenly seem so interested in his well-being. He also doesn't put any meaning into why you're scooting closer to him, your forearm accidentally touching his.

"I studied during my lunch break," Mingi informs you, a little, proud smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. Something tingles inside his chest as you carefully place your hand on his arm. As he looks over at you, you smile at him, and he notices your gaze flickering down to his lips for a second.

Hold on. Mingi's mind suddenly snaps out of its hazy state and works on overdrive. He might be the type to vibe, the type to just let things play out, but he'd be damned if he didn't notice when someone likes him like that. He suddenly notices the way you started creating skin-on-skin contact with him, the way you want to be closer to him, eyeing him even more than you ever did before. Just... why? Is it because you saw him in his Anime panties?

A few moments pass, and you sit back, then pat your pencil against the book to remind him of the reason why you're actually here. Mingi groans, admittedly a little dramatically and unreasonably erotic, brushing a hand through his hair to flex his biceps right in front of your face. You seem unimpressed.

"Well, fuck me," he chuckles deeply, the rasp in his voice more evident than usual due to his nap. It's then when you tense, he notices from the corner of his eye. Oh. Okay. So it's the voice?

"I'm really glad you're tutoring me, you know?" He purrs, throwing in a little praise to get you extra bothered, and you simply breathe out nervously.

"Heh, no worries," you brush him off. Mingi decides that, for now, he's made you suffer enough and keeps quiet. Instead, he focusses on his studies, although he's already planning his next step to terrorize you with the sultry rasp his vocal cords are gifted with.

"Mingi, focus-"

"No, I get what I have to do, the contents just won't stay in my head." Mingi reasons, his voice unusually, but not by chance, high pitched, eyebrows scrunched as to why the hell he has to do this before doing that only to do whatever next when it wasn't like this for the other exercise he had to do minutes prior. He is not stupid (!), he does understand how this works. It's just that it doesn't make sense, and that is surely not his fault.

"Are you stup-" you start, but shut your mouth before you're even able to call him the dumbest fucker you've ever crossed paths with. Mingi inhales sharply. Oh, oh, you're lucky he is patient, and you're lucky he knows that as soon as he growled a few dirty words into your ear, you'd slam your upper body on the counter without regards of caution, pushing your panties down under your skirt and begging him to take you right there - or at least, that's what he imagines.

Yes, Mingi is super patient, that's just what comes with the entire vibe-personality package, so he does not dump your cute sorry ass on his baka-door mat, but simply closes his pen, lays it on the table and looks at you. A fabulous idea plops into his mind.

"God," he groans as deeply as he can, stretching his arms over his head, "I guess I'm just a little" - he throws in a little moany sigh - "a little distracted today."

"A-are you?" You nod, biting your lip subconsciously. Mingi looks at you without moving his head. "Why?"

"Well, just stuff, you know?" Mingi enjoys how the rumble in his voice makes his throat and - obviously - you feel. "There's just a lot, going on. Like big... big stuff. Stuff that just keeps coming and coming, in and out, just like that. Ugh, I wish I could just let all this frustration out you know, all this pent up stuff." He watches for your reaction.

Unmistakably, your hand holding your own pen in a relaxed manner mere seconds ago now desperately grasps the poor objects until your knuckles turn white, your breathing is uneven and loud as if you'd just ran the entire way from Mingi's place to the next convenience store (seriously, why the fuck is he paying so much for this godforsaken apartment?). And - Mingi's favorite reaction to him ever: you're pressing your thighs together.

Oh, how Mingi loves himself a good reaction like this.

"Big stuff, huh?" Your voice trembles as your nervous eyes search for his. "H-how big?"

"Oh, really big. Just really fucking big," Mingi confirms with a slight smirk. He loves how you just fold easily like that. One second, you're over there feeling superior on your little throne of knowledge that Mingi lacks, and the next, you're making a little mess in your panties just because Mingi so much as spoke. Absolutely incredible. People should start calling him "the rizzler".

"I think-" you clear your throat, "I think I should head home then?"

Mingi smiles to himself as soon as you turn away to pack your stuff into your backpack. His hands automatically reach out to play with his pen, his long, slender fingers toying with the object, inevitably drawing your attention to the movements. "Already?"

"Mhm." You stare a second too long, gulp, then hastily stuff your belongings into the big compartment of the backpack, Mingi listens to the sweet melody of stressed breathing and papers crunching.

As amused as he is, he decides that it is time for the big reveal.

"Keep it in your pants, baby" he looks over, his eyebrow halfway raised, and stops rocking back and forth and fiddling with the pencil as you freeze in your tracks and stop packing. "What?"

Slowly, you turn your head to look at him. "So you know?" You manage to squeak.

Mingi smugly pushes his tongue into his cheek. He loves how you're basically vibrating out of nervousness. "Oh, I know."

You sigh, hands finally letting go of your stuff and motioning defeat. He wonders what's going on in your mind right now. Are you afraid he's going to call you out? That he's going to make fun of you? That he's going to call you a needy slut and send you home? Or are you wondering if he's going to give you what you want? Mingi loves this game.

That's why he decides to make your situation a little more miserable.

"I also know that you think I'm stupid," he explains calmly, trying his best to no longer show any excitement, smugness, or any emotion whatsoever on his sharp facial features to really confuse you. Well, that's what you're getting for (almost) calling The Song Mingi stupid. Just a little payback, is all. He's not going to go so far and make you cry. No, no, Mingi can't handle when people cry, much less so if it's because of him.

Nevertheless, your breath hitches. Oh, you're fully aware that he didn't like you calling him that at all. Oh, how the gears are turning behind your forehead as you're trying to figure out what's going on, and what's going to go on in the next minutes.

"Thought so," Mingi deadpans. Yeah, that's right. Look how smart he is now! Super smart! He's got you all figured out. He knows exactly what to say and how to act to make you feel - and, fuck, does this feel like redemption - stupid.

"I'm sorry-" you start, back facing Mingi's form, but Mingi is not here for it. Mingi has gotten what Mingi wants. Mingi feels as powerful as he imagines a lion to feel, like, every day.

"Dumb fucks good," he simply states, just putting it out there, throwing it into the room for you to do with that statement whatever you like. Mingi's mind is already satisfied, his ego stroked because he's just proven that he isn't dumb. Although... he wouldn't mind a little diddling because, if he's being honest, you're hot as fuck and seeing you react to him in this way- well, he's also just a man!

"What?" You probably think you must've terribly misheard him as you whip your head around to face the confident Mingi smugly leaned back in his chair. Your eyes meet his, and he is sure that you now realize that, no, you definitely did not mishear him. That was exactly what he said.

In the blink of an eye, Mingi feels your presence on his lap, a last final look into his eyes before he feels your lips against his, desperately chewing away the remaining air separating his spit from yours. It's messy, lips colliding, too much teeth and tongue, but it's all raw and desperate. Mingi gets the vibes that you may have had some pent up want for him, but that's honestly the last clear thought he can muster before you grind your hips against his.

A deep groan escapes Mingi's lips, inevitably echoing against your own quiet gasps that just turn louder with every movement of your hips, your hands frantically trying to touch him everywhere at once to the point where he has to grab your arms and pull you back. Your eyes, wide. And confused, but somehow lidded and hazy at the same time struggle to take in Mingi in front of you. Yes, Mingi is aware of the effect of his siren eyes.

For another moment, he simply enjoys seeing how destroyed you look already, but honestly, there is just one thing on his mind.

"I'm gonna eat you out," he informs, waiting for you to nod frantically, whine and scramble off his lap for him to keep his promise. And you do, allowing Mingi to grab your waist with his large hands and lift you onto the counter. Of course, he can't resist getting another taste of your lips, almost losing himself in the soft pillows that frame your pretty mouth, but the hardness creating a tent in his sweatpants reminds him that he should possible attend a little lower.

Hence, he kisses his way over your cheek towards your jaw, then over your neck and down your collarbones. Mingi is not sure what your opinions on love bites are, so he just hopes you can remember him being right here and here and here even without visual proof, he can save that for next time.

Okay, Mingi admittedly was not able to hold himself back completely, his teeth only gently nipping at your skin on his way down. He simply hopes for the best, but your sounds seem to imply that you do not mind him one bit. Instead, you sound as if you wouldn't mind him taking a few bites more.

Impatient as you are, you assist Mingi in pushing your shirt out of the way, the straps of your bra automatically falling down your shoulders to reveal more of you to his hungry eyes.

And as much as Mingi would like to spend hours playing with your chest, he keeps it down to a minimum, kissing the soft flesh while gently pushing the remaining material out of the way for better access. His lips wrap around a nipple, his hands meanwhile busy with massaging the other and carefully holding your waist. God, Mingi loves boobs. But he might love the way your fingers comb through his hair and gently pull on it a bit more even.

Finally, the time has come, and Mingi kneels down on the floor. Pushing your skirt up, hands caressing your thighs, he creates eye contact with your eyes glazed over by lust and want. It doesn't even faze him that he hasn't cleaned these floors in weeks, honestly, he is in so deep he probably wouldn't even realize if the stove was on, lighting his study notes on fire.

He wants to tease you more, make you wait, maybe make you beg even, but he just feels too hungry to keep waiting. His fingers hook into the hem of your panties, pulling them down your legs as quickly as possible before spreading your legs and groaning in anticipation.

Throwing your thighs over his shoulders, he pulls you forward a little further, chuckling as you almost lose balance and smile at him. Okay, maybe Mingi feels a little tingle, and maybe that is not a horny tingle, but that's something to worry about later, if ever. Right now, he has a mission: dive in.

So that's what he does, obviously, planting a careful kiss right on your clit to wait for your reaction. And you do not disappoint, gasping slightly at the first sensation before getting louder and bolder the more Mingi tastes you.

His tongue gently parts your folds, getting a first taste of your juices. You basically cry out as his tongue prods at your hole, carefully easing its way inside to caress your walls.

Automatically, your hands fly to his hair, gently pulling at the roots to find a way to ground yourself, the feeling assumingely overwhelming, Mingi thinks, not to brag, but-

Mingi's eyes roll back at a particularly hard tug at his hair, paired with the way your hips grind closer until you're basically riding his face. Fuck, how are you so hot? Mingi's fingers grab hard at your thighs, loving the way the soft flesh feels in his hands.

To experiment a little more and, first and foremost, to get more rewarding reactions out of you, Mingi lets his mouth wander back up to your clit, gently sucking the nub between his lips, his tongue carefully flicking as not to overwhelm you. At the same time, a fingers sneaks its way over to circle your entrance.

Your throat coughs out a broken moan at this, your eyes switching between looking at Mingi's eyes and his mouth, and closing completely. Mingi loves taking in the pleasure written all over your face. He might not admit it, but he loves this kind of praise much more than verbal praise because your body really can't lie. He can literally taste how good he is at this.

He finally pushes his finger inside, loving how the wetness and muscle contractions are basically pulling him deeper and deeper until past his second knuckle. He feels around a little, trying to find the spots that seem to appeal to you the most, watching carefully how you react to each and every flick of his wrist.

Although, he feels that one finger is not enough to prepare you for the rest of him, so he adds another, massaging them into the spot that seems to be making you see stars with the way you grip his hair even tighter and mutter something he interprets as a warning that you're about to cum.

Keeping his pace, he successfully sends you over the edge, letting you ride out your high on his tongue before removing his lips, only getting his fingers massage the last clenches out of you.

Looking up he realizes you look, respectfully, wrecked, with your chest heaving, your hair a little messy and your eyes hazy and glossy, parted lips asking for his. And who is he to deny them, as he leans in to allow you to taste yourself. You seem to like it.

Pulling back after a while, he looks at you. You look so happy and relaxed like he's never seen before. For some reason, it reminds him of the weight in his pants that he suddenly feels the need to inform you about.

"You make me so hard," Mingi says lowly, carefully taking your hand to prove it to you, "feel." It's more your hand guiding his with how fast you reach down to feel him, eager to touch the outline of him through the sweatpants. And as if you're getting paid to stroke Mingi's ego even more, you gasp at his size.

Mingi can't help but smirk, of course, who wouldn't?

"Big stuff, huh?" You repeat your words from earlier, but this time no longer nervous, but cheeky as you bite your lip playfully. Oh, how Mingi would love to make you choke on his dick right now, just a little, and in a loving matter, but he's honestly waited long enough and he really just needs to be in you right now. And besides, Mingi is more in his giving > receiving era.

Instead, he grins. And he feels like there is something more.

Impatiently, you tug at his pants, successfully moving them a millimeter. Mingi helps you push his pants further down until it pools around his ankles. You giggle.

Damnit, Mingi. Why couldn't you've changed your underwear? Mingi mentally scolds himself, a good amount of his previously earned smugness flying out the window. Instead, he gives you kind of a sheepish look.

"I don't mind," you assure, tugging at his anime boxers next, "it's actually relieving to be reminded that you're still the cute, dorky Mingi and are not possessed by a sex demon."

"Incubus," Mingi points out.

"I don't fucking care. Just get this hideous thing off and have sex with me!"

Mingi does not need to be told twice, although he makes a mental note to scold you later for calling the one and only Naruto printed on a piece of fabric shielding his balls from the outside world hideous.

"God, fuck," you let out, and Mingi chuckles at your reaction to his naked lower half, "come here. Please."

You pull him closer, wrap your legs around him and beg him with your eyes. Mingi wastes not another second, aligning himself with your hole and slowly pushing forwards. Your eyes roll back as he enters you, causing you to hold onto him for dear life as he inches inside, filling you completely.

God, must your walls hug him so perfectly? Must you be so unbelievably wet just for him? Must you make these sounds? Mingi feels like he doesn't want to be inside anyone else ever again.

"I feel like I don't want to inside anything else ever again."

How did that get out there?

You chuckle, and have the nerve to pinch his cheek, as if he wasn't balls deep buried inside you right now. "You're so cute."

Cute?!

Mingi will show you cute. He grabs your jaw, admittedly still gently, and makes you look at him as he pulls almost all the way out until his tip catches at your entrance. "Cute?" And he pushes in all the way all at once. You moan, the feeling too much, too intense for you to still keep your eyes open. Helplessly, you cling to Mingi's body as he repeats the action 4 more times before setting a steady rhythm, angling his hips in a way that should stimulate the spot you liked so much earlier.

With your mouth hanging open and your eyebrows scrunched, you look like the prettiest thing Mingi's ever seen. He wants to see you drool, watch you completely lose your mind over nothing else but his cock. At the same time, he is surprised how good it feels. Well, not surprised that it feels good, but that it feels abnormally good, like he's about to nut in the next minute or so. Hopefully, he's able to coax another high out of you before that.

"What was it that riled you up so much earlier? My voice?" He growls, and you as much as whimper in return. "Yeah, like it that my voice is so deep?" You nod pathetically. "Cute."

"Mingi- 's so good."

"Yeah, am I fucking you good?" Mingi grins and you nod weakly, struggling to keep your eyes open. Mingi really shouldn't be the one talking big because honestly, he feels like if u moan one more time, if ur walls clench around him one more time, he is going to lose it. Something about this entire situation is just super surreal to him, or maybe it's simply you that is the reason for his premature high that is coming for him with fast steps.

"Fuck, baby," he groans, kissing your cheek before whispering, "can I please cum inside?"

"Shit, y-yes," you confirm, nodding quickly as you fight your hardest battle to keep your eyes open, focused and on the man that's currently grinding his tip into your sweet spot. Mingi feels like he loves you.

Mingi also feels like he's loosing his grip on reality, which is why he grabs your hips harder than before, using his strength to really slam his hips into yours with force, drowning his thoughts with the sounds of your moans. There is nothing on his mind except for you, you, you, and the primal need to make you his.

"Please," he groans, not quite sure what he's begging for, but it doesn't really matter in the end, does it? All that matters is that Mingi's ears catch the way you're begging him to cum for you, to fill you up, to please, please finish inside. He is not going to deny you that wish.

His hips stutter, his mind goes numb as he feels his muscles tighten and contract, releasing deep inside you. The feeling spreads in his body, feeling high and happy with such a forceful orgasm like this one.

Everything after is just a blur in his mind, he just remembers realizing that you didn't cum a second time, and he wouldn't be Mingi if he kept it that way. That's why he found himself back on his knees seconds after pulling out, sucking your clit back into his mouth, tasting his own release that's threatening to drip out if it wasn't for his fast fingers pumping in and out of you to push you over the edge.

It doesn't take long until you do, orgasm fueled by the lewd action of Mingi eating his own cum out of you, he assumes. Somehow, you two end up in his bed after, mostly because Mingi is a cuddler, partly because Mingi is not able to let you go yet. Or ever. Who knows.

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