#bc they think he can do so much better but bite their tongue bc admittedly he does make arthur happy

[miguel-owhora]

modern morbell college au but micah's a stinky little sleazy weed user n arthur's the guy he somehow bagged by being a sleazy dumb cat who's actually pretty smart when he wants to be.

i just want arthur to smoke weed for the first time n have a hot n very pleasant make out session w micah 😣

[turnsorrow]

no bc i make fun of how alisaie drags everyone around her left & right, but can we appreciate that not only did she call zenos out by telling him to his face that he’ll never get what he wants bc he’s an entitled little man baby who doesn’t take the feelings of others into account and thus no one is ever going to give a shit about his stupid little crusade in turn, BUT IT ACTUALLY WORKS. zenos literally sits there repeating what alisaie said to him over in his head !! to the point that he’s like damn...... she’s right...... if i want wol to meet me in battle, maybe i have to take time to help the wol ‘hunt their prey’ first.

as funny as alisaie is, she is BRAVE and she is so much more no-nonsense than even some of the other straight-laced scions.

she tells emet to suck it up and get OVER it bc the world he had is gone!!! he’s not getting it back!!! all he’s doing is perpetuating a sick cycle of destruction and for what? a world full of people that will never be the same as the one he lost, even if he were to succeed?

drags estinien to the high heavens for claiming to have any kind of affection for someone he can’t even RECOGNIZE, actively fights g’raha during the time jump bc she’s so FURIOUS with him for calling her when/how he did, puts ishgard on blast for being a bunch of hypocritical classists, tells her father that everything he’s doing “for his children” is FUCKED because they’re all playing GOD like what’s even the point of trying to save ppl during the final days if you aren’t prepared to save EVERYONE, steps in to talk to VARIS OF ALL PPL BC THE ALLIANCE LEADERS ARE GETTING DRAGGED TO FILTH, like —

alisaie is a very, very strong character for someone who is so self-admittedly fearful of the outcome of everything going on. idk i just think her repeated willingness to stand up to the strongest character personalities throughout the entire game is warranting discussion, especially considering she is one of TWO people to have ever made enough of an impact on someone like zenos to the point he literally changes his whole ass world view in the end. for ultimately selfish reasons, yes, but zenos was never going to come to that conclusion on his own lmao.

she is not as good with words as her brother is, but she’s far better with emotions. alisaie has such an effective reach with her words because she doesn’t bite her tongue and she isn’t afraid to challenge people who could, in theory, eviscerate her if she upset them.

[khaotic-kitsunes]

Hm, how about canonverse Dabi with a fellow Villain Reader who's really sensitive to the cold bc of their water based Quirk?

Hi! Thank you for the ask, it was a lot of fun to write! Enjoy!

~Ki

"Dabi!" You protested, as he simply laughed at you and your suffering. You huffed, wrapping your arms around yourself.

He'd just stolen the only blanket you had. It was winter, and the weather had been getting colder by the day, which was very bad for you.

Today was the first day below freezing, and you were on the verge of doing the same. After all, your body was made up of almost entirely water, making you much more sensitive to the cold than your average person.

"Aw, come on, Doll." He teased you, still holding the blanket away from you. You stuck your tongue out at him. "Why are you so mad?"

"I'm fr-freezing!" You proclaimed, growing more frustrated and more cold. Of course, you'd been paired with the scarred villain since the weather turned, since theoretically, his fire would keep you safe and not completely useless. But it seemed that fate had other plans, and Dabi was feeling particularly obnoxious during this mission.

It was a simple scouting mission. Nothing too important or noteworthy... Maybe that was it...

"If you're just bored go burn down a building or something." You snapped, making another grab for the blanket, but you stumbled on your own feet, before you could even reach it.

"Woah, you're clumsier than I thought." He laughed, but when you didn't get up, wincing at your foot, he crouched down to help you.

You were cradling the foot that you'd tripped on, so he'd made to look at it. His eyes dulled, as he realized just what he'd done. You'd been complaining about the cold since you left the hideout, and Dabi was fed up with it...

"I didn't-" He breathed, unable to finish. He shook any hesitation from his mind, quickly wrapping you back up in the blanket, and picking you up. He was careful of your foot, which now had a thin layer of frost over it, which he could see at the ankle. He just now realized that your lips weren't soft or beautiful anymore, but cracked and as blue as his flames. Your ears and nose were also among the first to be affected by the cold. He didn't realize you had been serious.

He knew the consequences of quirks could be bad, but... He didn't realize it was this far out of your own control...

Water was by no means light, but Dabi couldn't be bothered to care. He heated up his own body, coddling you to your chest.

You squeaked, but couldn't resist the warmth of his body.

You sighed in relief, as your body began to warm back up. He took you into an alley, and gently set you down on some steps. He held his hand over your foot, a dull heat radiating from it.

He was silent. You stared at him, watching him, as the frost slowly melted again.

"Thank you." You said, when you'd regained all the feeling in your body.

"You didn't say you would actually freeze." He said, all too quietly.

"I was built for warmer climates." You shrugged. "I tried to get Shigaraki to pair you with Twice and Toga, this time, but-"

"I'll take care of it, next time." He interrupted you, looking into your eyes.

His eyes were so intense, as they always were. They were frigid and cold, and yet held fire in them... You'd often caught yourself staring into his eyes, but now, it seemed you couldn't pull your gaze away.

"Are you feeling better?" He asked, gently brushing his hands over your blanket, warming it up to combat the frigid air. Admittedly, Dabi had so much fire beneath skin designed to protect an ice quirk, he didn't really even start to feel the cold until most people began to hit frost bite.

You nodded. He picked you up again, despite your protests, withdrawing his heat when you tried to flail out of his grip. You gave up, and let him carry you.

You then noticed that he'd turned away from the target, headed back towards the base.

"What about the mission?"

"Hand job can suck it. You told him you'd be a liability and he didn't listen, he can take responsibility for this."

You blinked, sputtering, but no protests ever found their way to your lips.

You sighed, and allowed your head to fall on his chest, taking his his warmth.

Dabi smirked, softly, turning up the temperature, just a bit, to keep you closer to him... It was... nice.

He didn't want to admit it, and wouldn't out loud, but it had been a long time since someone had simply just been in his presence. There was no hurt, no yells, just the touch of another person.

How long had it been since he'd really embraced a person?

He tried not to think about it, but he couldn't help himself from walking a bit slower. Once you were back at base, with a heating unit, you would no longer need him... And he didn't want to expose you to the temperature any longer but... Well, he could keep the cold away, couldn't he?

So he could let himself touch you a little longer, right?

Alas, the base did eventually draw closer, and Dabi couldn't exactly turn around or go a different route. You would get suspicious.

He reluctantly opened the door. Everyone else was out on their own missions, too. He looked around. He'd only ever bothered to memorize his own room, and didn't know where yours was.

"Which way is your room, again?" There was no response. He looked down at you, but you were merely curled up into his chest, eyes closed, and breath soft and deep. A sliver of a smile and a sinking pit of anxiety crossed his being. You'd fallen asleep.

He sighed, muttering something or other about how troublesome you were, though he didn't believe in it, himself, and took you to his own room. He wasn't about to go searching though everyone's rooms for yours, the Gods only know what's in those.

He gently placed you in his bed, tucking you tightly in the covers. You whined slightly, when his warmth disappeared.

He figured you'd be fine, sitting on the edge of his bed, and reaching for his phone, but he felt you shift.

You'd rolled in your sleep, arm partially stretched out... For him, he realized.

Even at room temperature, it probably was still too cold. He sighed, moving the blankets, and slipping under with you.

He held you in his arms, letting his body do the rest. You sighed in content, curling back up into his chest.

Dabi tried not to think about how perfectly you fit in his arms, or about how your head was tucked just beneath his own, or about how you smelled like the sky just before it rained.

When you'd finally awoken, you were warm and well rested. You were in no hurry to open your eyes, until you felt something shift about you. You blinked open an eye, to see purple scarring. Both eyes opened wide, and you scrambled backwards.

This was not possible, as Dabi's arms were wrapped tightly around you. Feeling you struggling in his arms, Dabi was also awoken from the slumber he hadn't intended to fall into.

He blinked down at you, a sly smirk on his face. "Still cold, sweetcheeks?" He teased. Thought this might not have been the best first response, it was all Dabi, still tired, could come up with.

"Could you let me, go, please?" You asked. He shrugged, lifting the arm that was over you. You scrambled back.

The last thing you remembered was Dabi carrying you back to base.

"What happened?" You demanded. Dabi yawned before sitting up, in no hurry to explain himself.

"Well, let's see. You started turning into a popsicle, and I helped you warm up." You gave him a hard look. He chuckled, holding his hands up in defense. "You fell asleep on the way to base, and I couldn't be bothered to find your room. Not only did you proceed to steal all the blankets off my bed, you refused to let me go." He smirked at you. He didn’t reveal how good it made him feel or how it almost hurt when you’d pulled away from him so eagerly.

You flushed at his words. Dabi raised his hand to feel your cheek, making sure you weren't still cold. Despite his teasing actions and words, he was actually quite worried. You flushed deeper. Dabi dropped his hand. Embarrassment, not cold, then. Good.

He stood from the bed. "Well, I'm gonna go bother Handyman, stay here. Or not." He grabbed his jacket off his floor, tossing it at you. "Don't get cold, again." With that he left the room.

You remained where you were, stunned. You hesitantly grabbed his jacket. You buried your face in it, unable to resist the draw of the cinnamon and bonfire smell you'd awoken to. You breathed in, despite the embarrassment

"It smells like him." You mumbled to yourself.

[thatsparrow]

just got back from the theater, post-let there be carnage thoughts

shit fuck man I missed going to the movies so much I missed going to the movies SO MUCH I know this isn’t specific to let there be carnage but genuinely movie theaters dark rooms overpriced popcorn overwhelming sound levels my beloveds

truly an incredible amount of romance in the movie. fully leans into the premise that these two are in a relationship together in a way that is jokey at the surface but is clearly working from a genuine emotional place

the end scene…the beach…the toes in the sand…”did you say you love me?” like!!!

for a movie called ‘let there be carnage’ there was. shockingly little actual carnage

I get that’s what happens with a pg13 rating (is that what explains the uh very vivid ‘carnage suffocates a man by literally shoving his tongue into his lungs’ scene bc there wasn’t as much visual gore involved?) but it did feel odd that we only got hints/promises of carnage’s violent potential without really exploring it (even him just going on a violent rampage for the fun of it. like all of his superpower uses were very goal-oriented as opposed to carnage for carnage’s sake)

absolutely a+ usage of their one allotted ‘fuck’

the hinting-at notion of carnage also applies to cletus when he’s just in his woody harrelson form, too. yes, they give details about the violence in his youth, but for a first act that leans so heavily into cletus’ past as a serial killer to set up the chain of events, we hear/learn very very little about what he actually did

the sequence where venom goes on his break-up spiral though…bedecked in glow sticks…gets up on stage to prove how much better he is without eddie…the very mournful “I wish eddie could see me”…truly boyfriends in love with terrible communication skills

I would have happily seen SO much more of venom!michelle williams

don’t get me wrong, I like a movie that can tell its story in 100min, but the actual plot did feel pretty thin

buck WILD to introduce shriek—a character whose abilities are fundamentally at odds with a symbiote’s existence—and not have her introduce any consequences to cletus/carnage beyond hinting at the divide between the two of them

that said, the scene where venom’s like ‘we need sound’ then looks at shriek meaningfully before. fucking bodyslamming her into grace cathedral’s bell to start it ringing KILLED me

I like that they gave dan something to do! I’m a fan of the trend (also see ant man and the wasp) of our male hero recognizing his ex has a healthy relationship with someone else and not resenting her new partner

although…..fucking speaking of the cathedral scene…….”they’re not symbiotic, we are” let there be carnage really said “eddie and venom are soulmates” like!!!

sonny and cher my beloveds

of course I’m annoyed with the post-credits scene but I think the thing that annoys me the most is trying to make the hard pivot into venom being a villain for holland!spider-man

like he looks at peter and instantly goes “gotta eat that boy” inexplicably! absolutely nothing prompts this except wanting to adhere to the comics!!

you could have extended the ‘venom on his own’ storyline and fleshed out the plot a little further by having venom (while possessing random san franciscans) actually eat somebody now that eddie isn’t keeping him in check, foreshadowing that those impulses are just as present and just as powerful

BUT it’s so much more meaningful to have venom—away from eddie, able to act out and go full praying mantis re: head biting—to curb that impulse! even when eddie isn’t around, his voice is in venom’s head! at some level, venom doesn’t want to disappoint eddie even when eddie would never know!!

which is sort of the whole problem with introducing hardy!venom into the holland!spider-man storyline (excepting the much larger, disney is consuming everything please make it stop problem) which is you can’t spend two movies setting up venom as a heroic character (imperfect, admittedly, but still driven by heroic-ish impulses) only to then have him go into some sort of rabid villainous state when he sees holland!spider-man because??? he hates spiders or something I don’t know

i want to end on a high note so woody harrelson’s hawaiian shirt/blazer combination was an absolute look

[schoolfullofmorons]

petey lowkey having a crush on gary for a long time bc hes a pretty bad boy, but it takes some actual therapy and a small reunion for gary to feel some actual LONGING to have petey in his life again. he becomes surprisingly soft and supportive, in his own way, with their renewed friendship, and it takes jimmy casually promising to kick his ass if he messes up with petey for gary to realize he might actually have developed some romantic feelings for their friend. cue panic and breathing exercises

July, 2007.

Here he stood, on the threshold of hell on Earth, about to talk to Satan himself, and he still wasn't ready to run.

Well, maybe that wasn't entirely accurate. Pete Kowalski, rising junior of Bullworth Academy, was very prepared to run from the menace that had tortured him last year. Gary Smith, the mentally unstable asylum patient, waited for him just on the other side of this door.

His palms had grown hot with sweat, and he nervously wiped them off on his clean, ironed jeans. Pete hated having generalized anxiety disorder. It made him nervous even about this, even about coming here, which was literally his own choice to begin with. The thought of facing his once best friend filled him with a mounting dread that made his throat burn with the urge to cry.

But Pete wanted this. He was determined to get the answers he wanted, because Jimmy and him had been fucked over. And Jimmy might have brushed his hands of Gary, Jimmy might have decided that he was done caring, but Jimmy wasn't Pete and Pete cared way too much. He needed to know why Gary had ditched them, betrayed them, left them to rot. He wanted to know the cause of all this.

And, deep down, maybe he missed Gary, too.

He had been standing there too long, staring at the door. Pete knew if he didn't act soon, the orderly that had trailed behind him would get annoyed. Licking his lips and swallowing down his own anxiety, he pushed open the door, letting the orderly shut it behind him.

And there he was, the mastermind himself.

Gary was so... different, in here, but in reality he still looked like a Smith. All sharp jawlines and piercing stares. When Gary rose his head to look at him, hair that was growing slightly shabby due to a month of no cuts falling into his face, Pete felt his heart skip a beat.

And then a grin passed over his face, his eyes lighting up with genuine joy. He launched himself off of the small white cot all asylum patients had been provided, and sauntered over to Pete with slow, calculated steps. Too proud and too arrogant for someone who was incarcerated.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here? Did Petey Kowalski decide to pay lil' ol' me a visit? The big, bad, awful wolf, Gary Smith?" Gary's words cut into him, and Pete felt the urge to wipe his hands off on his jeans again. His friend's eyes bore into him.

Why'd you do it? Was the question that sat on Pete's tongue, but instead he cleared his throat and avoided Gary's eyes. "I... wanted to check up on you. Y'know, see how you were holding up."

"Oh, look at that! He cares about me!" Gary reached out to sling an arm around him, bringing Pete in close with a sharp jerk that had Pete yelping. "Did somebody miss me? Just couldn't sleep at night knowing I was away, could you?"

"No, I-"

"I already knew you weren't straight, but this is taking it to a whole new level."

The protest died away on Pete's tongue and he swallowed as the familiar burning sensation hit the back of his throat. When he didn't get an answer, Gary huffed and shoved him, hard. Pete stumbled, hitting the cell wall and sliding down it.

"God, you're pathetic." Gary spat.

"Why do you have to be an asshole all the time, Gary?" Pete snapped, and in one sudden rush, angry words bubbled up and out of him. "For once in your life, can't you just accept that you're the one in the wrong? You're in a cell, for god's sake! Don't you realize that I'm the only one left who doesn't want you to drop dead? Half the school pities you and the other half hates you! You destroyed our lives! You took away our peace! You don't get to be calling me the pathetic one!"

The room fell silent enough to hear a pen drop. The air around the two boys grew thicker, and thicker, and thicker still with tension. Pete risked a glance at the boy who stood looming in front of him. He had to swallow back fear as he noticed Gary's hands were clenched so tight that the skin was starting to turn white.

Pete pushed himself to his feet, slowly, unwilling to startle Gary. If he moved too fast he was afraid that Gary would snap. A predator in a hunting crouch, moments away from delivering the killing bite. That's what Gary was.

"You know, I used to like you. I used to want you around. I used to think you were smart, and funny, and cool. But now you just remind me of a... a walking toddler, who throws a temper tantrum when he doesn't get his way. I hope you get better, Gary. I hope you get the help you need so you can finally grow up."

Pete sidestepped Gary, who had yet to move except for his head, his eyes slowly following Pete back towards the doorway. Pete opened the cell door and looked back one more time, meeting eyes with the person he once considered his best friend.

And then he left.

-

September, 2008.

To the parents of Gary Alexander Smith,

I am writing to you to inform you that your son has completed rehab. According to his court order, this is the final step needed in order for him to be released back to the public.

Please note that he will still have to check in weekly with a nurse that will ensure he is still taking his medication. This will no longer be a requirement after his 100 hours of community service is over.

With this in mind, we will be releasing him on the 8th at 3 PM. We require a signature before his release in order to ensure that he is in the proper hands of his guardians.

Thank you for your time,

Happy Volts staff.

-

The reunion with his parents was about as happy as you'd expect with parents as terrible as his. Really, they didn't talk much through the entire thing; it was pick him up, take him home, and let him clean himself up before they had dinner.

It was the first meal that he had had in a long ass time that was actually good, instead of being almost edible. He really did have a newfound appreciation of his maids after that, though he'd never admit it to them out loud.

The thing about spending a year away from home is that it caused him to reflect on things he could have done differently. It also made him realize that a lot of the shit he had done his sophomore year simply didn't... matter. Maybe it was the medication, and the advice of actual doctors from the state after being transferred from Volts and their terrible medical department, but Gary was beginning to see things in ways he had never thought to see them in before.

For example, he was pretty sure Jimmy had never said anything all that terrible to him. Where had he gotten that idea from? Yeah, some of it was an addiction to power, but he was pretty sure the other part was perceived rejection. Learning about rejection sensitive dysphoria really did help him out in a lot of ways. He just wished it had been explained to him sooner, before, y'know, he betrayed all of his closest pals because of an inexplainable fear that they hated his guts.

(Which now they probably did. Go figure. Pete's words still ate at him when he tried to sleep at night).

That didn't matter as much now, anyway. He wanted to know what he'd be doing. He wasn't trapped anymore, with only medical professionals and other patients that had, admittedly, been really kind to him when they weren't Bullworth Branded(tm). He wanted to know what his future would be like, now that his head was much clearer.

When he asked his father, the response he got didn't surprise him much.

"We've decided to respect Crabblesnitch's decision and homeschool you. It'll be best, in order to prevent anymore... incidents."

And so began the process of sleeping, waking up, eating, being immersed into various studies by a freshly hired tutor with a bitchy voice that Gary tried very hard not to snap at, eating again, and going back to sleep. This pattern only broke on days where he had been assigned community service, or had an appointment with his psychologist.

As the days went on, he began to make the effort to expose himself to the outside world. Being locked up made him unusually skittish around people, and he was still having trouble getting used to the crowd that was his father's staff. This led to him climbing onto the roof of his father's house as he watched the sun dip steadily over the horizon after a long day of studies.

Being in high places had been a huge comfort when he was a child. He liked to watch the world, and he liked to feel in control by being able to see his surroundings. His friends would occasionally join him. He had many memories of Pete's smile catching on the sunset, or his nervous expression watching him as Gary got too close to the edge.

This was their place first, before it became his and Jimmy's. He wondered, briefly, if Jimmy still thought of their battle as often as Gary did, or if Gary just did that because it was the last substantial thing he had ever done with himself before the lock-up.

He really missed those two.

He got it, though. He couldn't have them back in his life. They had both kicked him out, and that was his own doing. He had hurt them, and he might regret it, but he had to let go.

He just didn't know how, when he didn't have anyone else.

-

December, 2008.

He finished his community service. Christmas break came, and since he had been working so hard on catching up with his junior year studies, his father had allowed him to take it off for himself. He was grateful at the idea of a break; he had been working tirelessly, and was nearly three quarters of a way through his junior year. He wanted to catch up to his senior year already, so that he could graduate in May like the rest of the Class of 2009.

Suddenly filled with free time that he did not want taken up by family, Gary found himself wandering into town more than he had previously. At first he didn't go far, but as the days passed he found himself going on longer strolls until he found himself deep in the heart of Bullworth Vale.

He should have known it would be easy to be spotted there, considering the gym was a hotspot for prep activity. Jimmy's lighthouse was also down here, causing Gary to avoid that spot as much as he could.

It was a smart idea, by all means. Unfortunately for Gary, however, Jimmy was king, and the preps told him everything. Especially Gord, who he'd had an on-and-off relationship with for a few years now.

That's what led to his peaceful stroll being interrupted by a massive fist slamming his head into the side of a brick wall, so hard that his ears rang.

"Well, well, well, what do we have here?" Came a familiar voice in his ear, and his blood ran cold.

"James." Gary grunted into the brick wall. He tried to lift his head up, but was deemed unsuccessful when Jimmy's fist jerked him back down, causing him to wince. "What is it you want? I was busy."

"Busy doing what? Making the smiles of tiny children disappear?"

Gary had to remind himself that Jimmy was completely justified in this reaction, but it was hard when his cheek was beginning to fucking bleed.

"Get off."

"Not until you tell me what you're doing out of jail where you were supposed to rot."

"I got released! I finished the stupid program, okay? Let me go!" Gary hissed, and to his surprise, Jimmy did.

"What program are you talking about?" Jimmy asked, crossing his arms. Gary rubbed the grit off his face and took a moment to let his eyes wander over Jimmy's freckles.

Jesus, he forgot just how many James had. He was like a freckled forest.

"Technically a bunch of different programs... rehab was one, and I went through some community service hours." Gary shrugged. "Does it matter? I'm out now."

Jimmy's face contorted into three different expressions of confused anger, and Gary had to stop himself from laughing out loud at it.

"Like hell you're coming back to Bullworth-"

"I'm not, actually. I'm being homeschooled." Gary replied, smug at his one-up despite his best efforts not to be. It was just easy to feel smug around Hopkins.

(He wondered, briefly, why he wasn't downright pissed at Jimmy for sophomore year; but it had been a long time since then, and Gary was different, more different than he'd ever been).

"What? How long has that been going on?"

"Since September." Gary told him.

"Oh. Wow."

The two of them stood in an almost awkward silence, and Gary flicked his eyes over to watch the road as cars passed by. He had almost zoned out when Jimmy spoke again.

"So, what? Are you scheming to get back in?" When Gary turned his eyes back to Jimmy, the shorter boy was squinting at him, looking suspicious.

"No." Gary said, honest. "I'm not going to bother you, either, if that's what you're going to ask."

"Why? Not that I don't appreciate your kindness or whatever. I'm just trying to understand."

"I get it, don't worry." Gary shrugged and sighed, turning on his heel to face the road. "Honestly? I've had a lot of time to think. And... I messed up with the two of you. Bad. I don't want to pressure you into having to deal with me again, because, well... I fucked up your lives. I understand that now, I understand how bad it was back then for you. I wasn't going to seek you out, but I suppose thinking that I could hide from you forever wasn't necessarily the brightest idea."

"I can't believe this." Jimmy mumbled. "Gary Smith? Showing remorse? Who would of thought."

"Yeah." Gary said, quietly. "Wild idea, for sure."

The two boys stood looking at the cars in a slightly more comfortable silence. It had started to lightly snow, and Gary rubbed his gloved hands together to create the idea of warmth before he half-froze to death.

"I don't know if I forgive you, you know." Jimmy spoke.

"Yeah, I figured." Gary murmured. "And you don't have to."

"I think if you're putting in the effort, I'd like to forgive you." Jimmy told him, and Gary turned his head, regarding him with surprise.

"What you did was... terrible, to be frank, but I've seen worse. You weren't all that bad, back before the fight with Russell." He shrugged and Gary continued to stare. Jimmy had liked their friendship? It felt like a crazy idea.

"And I think... I think Petey really misses you, too." Jimmy shifted to glance at him. "He... told me, about your fight."

Gary didn't like thinking about it, much less talking about it. He clenched his hands into slight fists and let out a small huff. "Really? Man..."

"Its fine, really. I mean, I was pissed at the time and so was he, but I think he just misses you now." Jimmy turned his whole body towards Gary, suddenly furrowing his brow. "Hey, give me your hand."

"What?" Gary frowned. "No, get your own hand to hold."

"I'm not tryna flirt with you, dumbass. I'm gonna write Pete's number on your arm."

"Pete's - what?"

"You should apologize to him." Jimmy said, matter-of-factly. Bewildered, Gary handed Jimmy his hand. Jimmy took a pen out of his pocket and uncapped it, scribbling a hasty number on his wrist, just above his glove.

"Pete's parents had enough money to get him a cell phone. He can answer texts but texting back is a slow process so he prefers to call." Jimmy pocketed his pen. "I'm sure you two can work it out for yourselves though."

"Why are you giving this to me? I thought you hated me." Gary asked him, pulling his arm back to run his fingers over the messy digits that were gracing his skin.

"I never hated you, to be honest." Jimmy told him. "I was mad, but I never hated you. I was always rooting for you, Gary."

"I see." Gary replied. "Thank you, then, James."

"Of course." Jimmy clapped him over the back, causing him to stumble. "See ya around, crazy man."

He went home with black ink on his wrist and the words I was always rooting for you stuck in his head on repeat.

-

January, 2009.

Gary procrastinated all of Christmas break away thinking about calling Pete.

He didn't know why the task was bothering him so much. It hadn't been difficult to apologize to Jimmy, but then again, he knew he had been wrong about Jimmy going into it. Admitting to himself that he had no idea what Pete thought of him was a different challenge that was taking a lot of effort to push through.

There was also the part of Gary that had finally, finally let him accept that he missed Pete. And now he was getting a second chance with him, to fix things. To make things right.

He really, really didn't want to screw things up. That's why he was having so much trouble with this one, stupid, idiotic phone call.

(Rejection sensitive dysphoria, thou is a heartless bitch).

He was once again by the house phone, twirling the wire around his finger as he held it up to his ear. He chewed on his lip as he continued what had become a daily debate in his head: to call, or not to call?

Fuck it, he said, and dialed the number.

Pete picked up on the third ring. "Hello?"

Gary took in a sharp breath as the static in his head got louder. Was this a good idea? Probably not. Why did he trust Jimmy? Jimmy was a moron, how would he know what Pete thought?

"Hello? Is this a prank caller?" Pete asked, sounding slightly annoyed.

"No!" Gary spoke and then cleared his throat. "No, uh, its-"

"Gary? Is that you?"

"Yes! Yes."

"Holy crap, I thought you were still in-?"

"No, I got released a few months ago. I ran into Jimmy and he said you've missed me, so-"

"If this is going to be another teasing session about how 'homosexual' I am, I swear I will end this call right-"

"No no no, its the opposite actually. I wanted to apologize."

The line fell silent, and Gary shifted from foot to foot as nerves raced through him. Pointless restless energy. Only ADHD things.

"Look, I really messed up with you."

"Uh-huh. I know."

"And I wanted to say I really, really regret it. You were one of my best friends."

"And?"

"And I'm sorry. You deserved so much better than how I treated you."

Another silence. There was a noise as if someone had sat down a dish. "Listen, if you expect me to just accept, then I don't think I can do that."

Gary's finger twitched and he rested his head back on the wall. "I understand."

"But I'll give you the chance to prove that I should accept." Pete's voice was quieter now. "You just... you just have to prove it to me through actions, not say sorry and go right back to being a jerk."

"Yeah." Gary said, equally as quiet.

"Do you want to meet up sometime? To catch up?" Pete asked, and Gary had to fight to keep down the grin spreading over his face.

"I'd like that," he answered.

He might not have been forgiven yet, but he'd take what he could get.

-

They made plans to meet at a small cafe just outside of Bullworth Vale that following Thursday.

-

Pete Kowalski, senior of Bullworth Academy, sat in the quiet coffee shop that he had recommended for his and Gary's little "outing."

He had brought his laptop, as he had an essay due for his current English class and like hell was he going to pass up an opportunity to write it in a quiet space. He had actually arrived early in order to start it, since he knew Gary liked to ramble on, and he wanted to get some work done before he was interrupted.

He also wanted to think, which he had been doing between writing paragraphs analyzing the societal symbolism in The Scarlet Letter. His thoughts were turned towards the boy who he was currently meeting today, his good friend, Gary Smith.

He had missed Gary, if he were being honest. That didn't make him any less bitter about the things Gary had done to him, but it was still a cemented fact nonetheless. Gary Smith just... felt like his own addiction. Once you were around him once, he wouldn't get out of your head, and you wanted to see him again and again.

So Pete had decided to meet him here.

Of course, Pete wasn't stupid by any means. If Gary showed up acting like he had the last time they met, Pete would end all arrangements here. But Gary had shown... actual remorse. It was more than he had seen from him in a long time.

He just, really hoped it would work out well.

When the time came for him to show, the small bell over the door rang, signifying that someone had entered the coffee shop. Pete lifted his eyes and was immediately faced with the boy he had been crushing on for a good few years now.

Gary Smith, although he looked significantly less Smith(tm) now, his facial features softened but what could only be newfound maturity. Gary's brown eyes scanned the room and landed on him, and Pete swore his heart fell into his throat.

He was just so handsome. It wasn't fair, when Pete was supposed to be angry at his dumbass.

Gary approached the table, a lot less intimidating in his stride but still as confident as ever. The closer he got, the more his face cracked into a grin, sporting the gap in his teeth.

"Petey. Long time, no see!"

Pete couldn't help but smile faintly. "Hey. Go ahead and take a seat."

Gary slid into the table opposite from him and reached over to grab Pete's cup of coffee without warning. "What are you doing?"

"I could ask you the same. That's my coffee, Gare." Pete huffed and watched as Gary froze halfway to putting the cup to his mouth. A red blush spread over his face and he grumbled, setting the cup down.

"Yeah, sure. Don't share then."

"Don't be a dick. And I'm working on my English essay, to answer your question."

"Essays aren't too hard to write as long as you can focus on them."

"Well, yeah." Pete shrugged and looked down at the computer. He knew Gary had pretty much a natural talent at anything academic. "It just takes up a lot of time."

"What's the essay on?"

"The Scarlet Letter. You ever read that book?"

"Duh? Everyone in our grade has read that stupid ass novel. Its notorious for being boring." Gary rolled his eyes and Pete cracked a smile.

"Yeah, it honestly is. Doesn't stop the teacher from assigning it, though."

"Did you get Galloway again?"

"Nah. Got an actual competent teacher who makes us do stuff."

"Oh, I bet Bullworth isn't taking that one well." Gary smirked and leaned forward. He practically radiated smugness. "How has it been, with ol' James Bitchfucker Hopkins there to rule it?"

"You know, you could be nice to him for once instead of insulting him every other sentence." Petey chastised and rolled his eyes.

"Its our dynamic, Peter. Gotta insult him before the weirdos think I'm getting soft on him." Gary laughed. "Now answer the question."

"Yeah, yeah. Bossy." Pete looked at the words on his screen and then sighed, closing his laptop. Seems his work time was over. "Things have calmed down a lot, actually... the cliques all kind of kiss up to Jimmy, and in turn he settles all their disputes for pocket cash before they can get too violent. Its honestly kind of nice?... A lot of people have, uh, come out recently, and Jimmy's been beating up people who make fun of them."

"Come out?" Gary eyed him. Pete wasn't sure if he was making up the accusation in the burning stare or not. "As in...?"

"Gay, of course." Pete's cheeks burned. He almost wished he hadn't brought it up. "Jimmy is - he's bi, you know? He's been talking to a lot of kids who have come to them about their sexuality, like, um, Mandy-"

"Mandy??? The girl who is always clinging to a guy?"

"She doesn't do that anymore. She even talks to the nerds now, sometimes. As in, like, nicely." Pete shrugged and shifted. "She, she came out as a lesbian."

"What the hell." Gary furrowed his brow. "Did Jimmy put queer shit in the water?"

"Gary, don't say that, its rude. And no, Jimmy just..." Pete chewed his bottom lip and smiled. "He's supportive."

Gary pursed his mouth into a tight frown and Pete narrowed his eyes, his smile falling. "If you say something homophobic, I will cut you."

"Jesus, Pete, I leave you alone for a year and a half and you turn into the sass master. No, I wasn't going to say anything homophobic." He scoffed and turned his head to the side, purposefully ignoring Pete. Pete felt his cheeks burn.

"Okay, well, I just - wanted to make sure. Since, you know. I'm bisexual."

Gary snapped his head around to stare at Pete, and Pete felt his cheeks grow darker. "Stop looking so surprised. You already suspected it."

"I thought - I didn't - what?"

"Weren't you the one to call out the fact that I stared at boys for too long, repeatedly, for years?"

"I never thought you'd actually admit to it."

"Yeah, well, I wouldn't have if I'd had stayed around you." Pete said, coming off colder than he meant to. When Gary's face fell, he blushed and put his hands up. "I- shit, I didn't mean it like that, don't get upset. I just... you weren't the most accepting, Gary. I needed someone who would be so that I could experiment without feeling dirty."

Gary stared at him and then glanced out the window, huffing and setting his face in a tight line. "Yeah, okay. I get it. You don't have to explain."

"So... are you okay with it?"

"Obviously." Gary turned a glare at him, looking annoyed at the implications, and Pete smiled softly.

"Cool."

-

The two boys fell into a familiar routine after that, with Gary visiting the coffee shop after class on Wednesday to talk. On weekends, when he had nothing to do, he would call up Pete or Jimmy - sometimes even both of them - and they'd walk along the train tracks, talking as they relaxed in the quiet wilderness.

It was nice.

-

February, 2009.

"So I was like, dude, can you shut up already and give me the dang pencil? I don't care if it has MLP on it."

Gary snorted. "Is it really that surprising that Trent was into MLP?"

"No! That's why I didn't give a shit!" Pete laughed from beside him, and Gary couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him. Pete's laughter was infectious.

Their shoes made crunching noises on the gravel as they walked along the train track. They had been walking like this for a good twenty minutes as they caught up on their week.

"Valentine's Day is coming up." Gary mused. "Do you have a date?"

"Who? Me? Pete Kowalski, the quiet kid? Please." Pete chuckled softly, but it sounded sad more than anything.

"Hey, I wanted to give you the benefit of the doubt." Gary teased and gently shoved him. "Do you have anyone you want to date?"

"What, like a crush?"

"Yeah."

"Well..." Pete hesitated.

"You do have someone." Gary grinned as Pete returned to his side. "Who is it? Don't tell me its MLP boy."

"Trent? Ew, no. I'm not Jimmy, man."

"Is it Jimmy?"

"What?"

"Is it Hopkins?" Gary rose an eyebrow. Pete blinked, seeming caught off guard.

"No, of course not. I mean, Jimmy is cool and all, but..." Pete shrugged and glanced away. "I just, like someone else."

"Who, then?"

"Why do you want to know so bad?"

"Because I'm curious. Bite me."

"Curiosity killed the cat."

"Satisfaction brought it back. Just tell me, Pete, please?"

"I..." Pete stopped abruptly and Gary turned, alarmed as a frown made its way on Pete's face. "I don't want to talk about it, okay?"

Well, that's not weird at all. Gary let his eyes roll up and down Pete's figure, reading his body language (which screamed I'M SAD! in all caps), and then sighed. "Okay."

"Thanks." Pete smiled softly.

Gary wondered just why it bothered him so much in the days to follow.

-

Gary finished his junior year assignments and started his senior year courseload, feeling a lot happier now that he was in the proper grade level, even if he was behind by a small margin.

Despite that, his thoughts were mostly on one person: Pete.

For some reason, it bothered him knowing that Pete had a crush. Especially one that he wouldn't tell Gary about.

It felt like... this strange mix of anger, worry, and sad that Gary wasn't quite able to process.

Mostly because it felt an awful lot like jealousy, and he was not going to be jealous over Pete Kowalski, especially considering that had even deeper implications such as the idea that he might not be as heterosexual as he once thought.

Not that he had ever been attracted to girls, which... honestly, confused him more. Did that mean he was gay? But it couldn't. He hadn't ever been attracted to anyone except Pete. Maybe he wasn't... anything. Maybe he was just Gary.

Did sexuality have to be as labeled as Pete and Jimmy's? And, fuck, why was he even considering this in the first place, he so totally did not have a crush on Pete because he was NOT jealous.

A loud snap brought him out of his thoughts, and he realized he had broken his pencil. Fuck.

-

March, 2009.

February passed with little to offer. Valentine's Day found Gary wandering Bullworth Vale - Pete said he didn't feel like leaving the house, and Jimmy had a date. Overall, it was uneventful, except for the fact that Gary couldn't stop thinking about Pete.

Spring break would be coming up, the first week of April. Jimmy had suggested that they go camping by the train tracks. Gary had agreed, trying to ignore the pounding of his heart when he thought of Pete being there, sharing a tent with him.

-

April, 2009.

"Tent building is hard." Gary breathed out heavily as he leaned across a nearby tree.

"Lazy ass." Jimmy passed him with some firewood in his arms, hitting Gary lightly over the head. Gary rose an arm to shove his hand away.

"Shut up. Pete's complaining too." Gary pouted.

"Pete's different." Jimmy passed said boy, who was sitting on a treestump, and gave him a friendly smile. Gary felt jealousy pulse through his veins.

Okay, so he had accepted he was jealous. But that didn't mean anything. So.

"Pete's a loser." Gary retorted and playfully smirked at the boy, who rolled his eyes.

They had spent the first hour or so setting up camp before the sun went down. It had made two out of three of them tired, with Jimmy being unable to feel exhaustion ever.

As Jimmy began to build the campfire, Gary moved from the tree he was leaning against to settle next to Pete. His heart beat hard in his chest as their knees brushed.

"So, little Petey, are you ready for a night with the creepypastas?" Gary teased and shoved him lightly.

"Shut up. Its bad enough that you've been trying to get me into them without mentioning them here." Pete huffed at him, putting one hand up to shove his face away. Gary laughed, ignoring the tingle that ran through his skin where Pete's hand made contact.

"They're fun! Come on, your gay ass can't tell me you don't find at least one of them attractive."

"They kill people!"

"So?"

Pete opened his mouth to respond, then seemed to think better of it, pouting instead. "Shut up."

Gary felt his face slip into a familiar grin. He let his eyes trail over Pete's face as the boy turned away to watch Jimmy, taking in his soft brown eyes. When he smiles he gets dimples...

He felt a burning stare pierce through him, and slowly turned his head to see Jimmy giving him a knowing look with a raised eyebrow. Gary felt panic shoot through him, but externally he kept his face in the same grin.

"Done yet, James?"

Jimmy studied him curiously and then looked back at the fire. "Yeah. Should be enough for the night."

"I brought stuff for smores." Pete smirked and moved away from Gary. He tried not to be disappointed at the distance.

"Hell yeah, we like, gotta roast marshies. That's the first fuckin' rule of camping." Jimmy smirked and sat down by the fire. The sun wasn't down yet, but it was steadily approaching the horizon - it would be sunset soon.

"Marshies?" Pete laughed. "Are you in grade school?"

"Hey, don't diss my flow. Marshies are the bomb, man."

"You're so weird." Gary rolled his eyes and Jimmy shrugged.

They spent the next few minutes unpacking the food, preparing to make dinner. The campsite they had picked out had a grill nearby, and Pete had brought burgers for them all to eat. Jimmy lit the grill and left Pete to cook as Gary stayed by the fire just a little ways off.

"Hey." Jimmy greeted, his voice quiet as he sat down next to Gary, moving to rest his hands on his knees. "I need to talk to you."

"What is it?" Gary rose an eyebrow. "Does Pete need help with something?"

"Nah, that little dude's got it all figured out. I was gonna grill but he insisted. He's had a fascination with cooking ever since his parents decided he was old enough to touch the stove." He chuckled and shrugged.

"Then what?" Gary pulled his knees to his chest, eyeing Jimmy out of the corner of his eye suspiciously.

"Look, man. I don't want to pry, since I know it isn't any of my buisness, but... I see the way you and Pete look at each other."

Gary felt his blood run cold, and he turned his head to look at his friend. "I don't know what you're-"

"Earlier you spent like fifteen seconds staring at his face man, you were practically swooning like a stupid schoolgirl. Its so blatantly obvious that you like him."

"I..." Gary was at a loss for words, panic rising up in his chest. "No, no no no I-"

"I'm not going to tell him or anything." Jimmy held his hands up. "I just want to say... if you mess up with him again, I'm gonna have to kick your ass, alright? So, don't."

"What?" Gary breathed out. No, no no, it can't be that obvious. I thought I was hiding it better than this, I can't like Pete, I can't.

"I'm rooting for the two of you. You two deserve to he happy and its obvious he likes you back, so..." Jimmy shrugged and then furrowed his brow. "Are you okay?"

Gary realised then that he was hyperventilating. "What? Yeah."

"Gary, man, take it easy." Jimmy reached out, hesitated an inch away from him, and then gently allowed his fingers to snag around Gary's wrist once he was allowed. "Look at me. Focus on my hand. Breathe in, breathe out."

Gary took in a deep breath, letting himself focused on the calloused feel of Jimmy's hand around his wrist. He released his breath, and looked at Jimmy. Breathe in, breathe out. Repeat.

When he was calm enough, Jimmy let him go and nodded awkwardly. "You good?"

"Yeah." Gary muttered, embarrassment pooling in the pit of his stomach.

"So did I assume right?..." Jimmy murmured, keeping his voice low. Gary nodded, looking into the fire. The heat coming off of it soothed him.

"Really? Does that mean you're gay?"

"I... have no idea?" He could feel his face flushing. "Look, don't tell him, okay? I've only figured it out recently-"

"Recently? You've been looking at him like he's your princess ever since you came back into our lives."

"Don't tease me Hopkins, okay? Fuck you. I was in denial about it, it isn't every day that I actually like someone, let alone like them in that way."

"Yeah, yeah, you're an emotional robot, we get it." Jimmy rolled his eyes. "I won't tell him. But you should. He likes you back, I can tell."

Did he? Gary pursed his lips together and stared into the fire, choosing not to comment. But why would he?

He spent the rest of the night in bewilderment as they roasted "marshies," told horror stories, and eventually went to sleep in the tent. It was weird, sleeping beside Pete with the revelation he had just been presented, and he tried very hard not to freak out.

Eventually, morning came, and Gary got up, groggy from anxious sleep. They had to pack up and then they'd be heading back.

He really, really hated the disappointment he felt because of that.

-

May, 2009.

Gary decided that emotions were not something he was very strongly suited for.

He had been avoiding Pete, unsure how to feel about his conversation with Jimmy. Part of him still did not want to accept that he was capable of a crush, let alone a crush on a guy. (God, his father would be so pissed). The other part of him wanted to accept it and let go, because Pete was cute and smart and kind and... well, Pete.

As the month went on, Gary found himself missing Pete more and more. It was easy to cancel plans under the guise of schoolwork, but it was becoming excessive. And, well...

Maybe it was time for him to admit to himself that yeah, he was queer. He wasn't sure of the proper term (gay? bi? who knows) but he knew he was LGBTQ+ of some origin. And...

Well, Jimmy had given him a vote of confidence. Maybe he should just go for it.

He held off for a few weeks, but Gary was never one to deny himself what he really wanted. And he wanted Petey to look at him, more than anything.

He decided that he'd have to do this. It was time. And, readying himself, he began to devise a plan.

-

Pete had a burning frustration for all days dedicated to couples. He had always wanted to be a part of a relationship. It wasn't that he hated being single; he just... wanted to know what that connection was like. And, well, he also wanted to like someone that was actually obtainable for once.

Because of this, he tended to lock himself in his dorms during those days. And, here he was once again, in his dorm.

It was Prom Night, and Peter Kowalski had bought a new book to read to distract himself from the painful torture that is Being Single.

A knock on the door distracted him from Pip's adventure into newfound wealth. He stood up and went to answer it, curiousity pumping through him. Jimmy was the only one who ever came to his dorm, but Jimmy had told him he had a date tonight.

He opened the door to find Gary Smith there, a grin on his face and a suit in his hand. He was dressed in formal attire of his own, making Pete's heart skip a beat.

That is, until it hit him. "Gary? What are you doing here? You aren't allowed on school property."

Gary shrugged. "It isn't like the Prefects will care anyway. Its prom, Pete."

Okay, he had a point. "Still... do you have a date or something?"

Gary's grin widened. "Yes, actually." Abruptly, he shoved the suit into Pete's hands. "Get changed, we're going out."

"What?" Pete furrowed his brow. "But... what about your date?"

"Do I need to spell it out for you? We're going out. I already bought the suit for you and everything."

It clicked in Pete's head, and he flushed a bright red. "Oh!" He squeaked. "Okay!"

He went back in his room and quickly changed. He had not been expecting this, and part of him was still sure that it was a prank? (If it was, well, he'd deal with it later).

Pete stepped out of his room in the new suit. Gary's eyes scanned down over his body, and Pete flushed red, fidgeting nervously. "Is this... okay?"

"Its perfect." Gary told him, reaching out to grab his hand. Pete could see the faintest traces of red blush on Gary's face. "Let's go."

"Wait." Pete stopped him. Gary turned to him, looking annoyed. "For clarification. Are - are we dating now? Like, um, boyfriends."

Gary narrowed his eyes. "Ugh, that's such a stupid term."

"Well?"

"I guess. If you want to be b-words then I'm here for it." Gary glanced away from him.

Pete broke into a grin. "Okay." He said, very quiet, as happiness settled in his chest.

"Are you ready now?"

"Yeah. Yeah, let's go."

[mccnyoongi]

That Namjoon drabble was so good! Soft sappy smut is underrated!! 😭 Do you think I could request one with dry humping and a sweet, flustered, dirty talking Jungkook?? Thank you!

another drabble to prove my love of a) sappy shit and b) college aus (although deff not as soft as some of my other stuff OH WELL)

⇢ word count: 1.3 K+ (sjkfksd WHOOPS)

⇢ warnings: longhaired eboy!jungkook and im NOT SORRY, boyfriend!jk, college!au, sappy soft smut, no actual sex, semi-public bc reader and jungkook are insatiable, groping at a party, not proof-read at all.

Jeon Jungkook makes you thankful for a lot of weird things. Like the wrinkly old bat that is your Intro to Philosophy professor, for pairing the two of you together on a boring project in your first semester. Or the cursed university frat party jungle juice, for giving you the confidence to tell the boy you’d only just started to see as one of your closest friends that you’d simply love to suck his dick if he would ever be interested. Or the local laundromat, the one with the burnt out ‘A’ in the neon sign out front so it’d spell out ‘LUNDRY’ at night, for being the place where you and Jungkook shared your very first, giggly kiss, with his Power Ranger boxers you had teased him for not ten minutes earlier on tumble dry behind you.

Six months later you realize you are simply grateful for Jeon Jungkook, the smarmy, bratty, crooked grin wearing bastard. Especially at moments like this, when an obnoxious party is raging on all around you, but all his focus is on you, the girl perched in his lap, the one who won’t let him cut his hair because she likes running her hands through the curly locks way too much. He has a way of making you feel so important it’d be a wonder if you weren’t completely smitten with him.

“Are you all partied out already?” You’d asked him when he’d dragged you onto his lap, making you straddle him on a worn out beige couch, barely an hour into Hoseok’s birthday party, no one occupying the other spot. His arms are strewn out on the back of the couch behind him, making him looking cocky and smug.

He shakes his head, a sly smile gracing lips you know all too well. “Nah,” his pink tongue swipes over his lips teasingly, and you suddenly know he has some sort of plan up his sleeve. Your boyfriend is the scheming type, far too used to getting his way, especially when it comes to you. “Just missed you.”

Missed you? You scoff. You had spent the previous night at his place, woke up there, ate together, got ready there and showed up to this party together. Sure, you had lost each other to your respective friends not two minutes after walking through the door, but an hour is barely enough time to miss someone. “Needy…” You tease with a roll of your eyes.

His hands leave their spot of the couch to find a tight grip on your hips, one that has your memory reeling with times of similar tight grips and the same glint that Jungkook has in his eyes right now.

“I’m the needy one now, am I?” He cocks his head and pouts, the act entirely endearing and contrasted with the bruising grip he has on your hips and his thighs sinfully flexing underneath you. “C’mon, baby, you know you can’t resist me,” His confidence has you rolling your eyes once more. “And I can’t resist you. We’re insatiable for each other and it’s fucking adorable.”

His grip loosens, thumbs rubbing calming circles on your sides. You contemplate his words and how true they are- in the past six months the two of you had been together, you had become the couple you might have once grumbled and complained about. Unable to keep away from each other, never caring who else is around because your need for the other is all consuming.

Jungkook proves his point as he presses his lips to yours, the taste of that local IPA he likes so much on his lips, and you can’t help yourself as you eagerly kiss him back. You can feel him smile against your lips, as if he won some kind of game you weren’t even playing.

You almost pull back to reprimand him, to tease him, something, but you don’t even remember why when one of his hands sneaks to your ass to grip and pull you against him. Any ideas of stopping him vanish when you brush against his bulge, already half hard, despite being in a crowded living room. Of fucking course he is. 

You gasp when he properly grinds you against him and he only riles you up further as he licks into your mouth, his skilled tongue running over your own. You reciprocate as best you can, surprised and dazed by the sudden onslaught of affection.

He pulls back and you think he might be done, that he had a sudden moment where he lost control, and that you’d both go back to partying like stereotypical college kids. Really, you should have known better.

Jungkook doesn’t bother to pull back at all, or remove his hands from their suggestive positions. Instead he’s ducked his head into your neck, a favourite spot of his, to kiss, suck and nibble up and down the expanse of it. 

You hold back a whimper at a particularly sharp nip just under your jaw and he grins wickedly. He finally pulls away, giving you a moment to breathe and the chance to meet his devilish gaze. The boy never falters, despite the admittedly half-hearted glare you throw at him, instead leaning into your ear, teeth grabbing onto the lobe and dragging against it before whispering into it, sending shivers from there down to the large hand on your ass.

“I know you like this, hon, bet you’re fucking soaked, you love it” He’s pulling you against him again, both hands now on your posterior. And you’d hate to admit that he’s right, so you don’t, instead throwing your hands around him and leaning your head against his shoulder, sighing and biting back wanton, desperate sounds every time your center reaches his rapidly hardening cock. “Yeah, that’s right, ‘s just you and me.”

And he’s right, because it doesn’t matter who else is there. It doesn’t matter that you’re supposed to be celebrating one of your best friend’s birthdays, or that Seokjin and Taehyung are across the room, pointing and making lewd jokes about the two of you that you’ll be sure to hear before the night is through. All that matters is Jungkook. 

You’re moving of your own volition now, his grip slack, but your hips still moving so that you’re continuously grinding against his dick, now getting harder by the second. And you know he loves it too. Because he loves you.

“Good girl, that’s it,” He eggs you on and his own hips buck up, chasing pleasure, as desperate for you as you are for him. “Love you so much, my best girl, huh? Grinding against me around all these fuckin’ people, don’t even care who’s watching. I don’t care either, hun, you know why?” 

Experience with Jungkook makes you know that he’s expecting an answer, but you don’t trust your voice, so instead, you shake your head against his neck. He chuckles, the sound rumbling through his chest, making you feel it more than hear it. “Cause they all know you’re mine. All mine,” You nod, though he hasn’t asked a question because you know it’s true undeniable, even. “And I’m yours, huh?”

“Mine-” It’s the first word you’ve spoken since Jungkook first kissed you and the confirmation makes him sigh happily, even though it’s something he already knew. Turns out you both have a praise kink a mile wide.

“Time to get up, doll,” He stops your hips from moving against him, and now you can’t stop the whine that escapes your mouth. You lift your head to pout at your boyfriend, lip properly jutted out and eyes wide. Jungkook coos at you, his hands now cupping both cheeks, dwarfing you in size. 

“I know, hun, I know. But I don’t think any of these assholes would appreciate if we took this any further. We gotta find somewhere more private before I’m forced to fuck you on this couch that I know for a fact Hobi has jerked off on before. So we’d better find an empty bathroom because I don’t think I can make it through the walk back home.”

[kingdomhearts-rewrittenarchive]

I need some Isa fluff. Sorry if this was already done, but how would he react if his SO offered him a Paopu fruit?

if they offered it to him too soon then he would reject them, and depending on their reaction to it, he might even straight up break up with them

if they offered it to him as a joke, he might take it as such and laugh or jokingly agree, but if it wasn’t presented in a nice way, he would be really hurt bc that essentially says that they don’t take their relationship with him seriously

if they offered it to him as a consolation or comfort thing, he could react with anger or by just confessing his love for them which is my personal favorite headcanon and why i wrote a scenario under the cute to go along with it

It had been Lea’s idea to travel to the Destiny Islands for a little vacation. Everyone was in agreement that, for as much as they loved Twilight Town, they wanted something a little different. And seeing Riku, Sora and Kairi wasn’t going to hurt them either.

As far as you were aware, everything was fine for the better part of the day. Everyone was having fun playing in the water, and there wasn’t a quiet moment to be found. Maybe that was the problem. Not long ago, a couple of hours before sunset, you realized that Isa was nowhere to be found and, thinking back to the day, you hadn’t seen him in quite a few hours.

You admit, you panicked a little, because it was unusual for him to just pop smoke like that. Usually, he would just let you or someone know if he needed a little solitude, but he knew better than to disappear without a word. The first, and last, time he had tried it, Lea nearly got arrested for disturbing the peace in his panicked search for Isa.

That being said, Lea was too preoccupied to notice Isa missing this time. Hell, you hadn’t even noticed for who knew how long, and you couldn’t help but feel guilty, even if disappearing without a trace was a specialty of his. You decided that you were going to look for him, but you were going to do it alone. There was no real need to upset Lea; the island wasn’t that big and Isa couldn’t have left the island without the rest of you.

It took the better part of an hour before you finally did find him, though. He was on the direct opposite side of the island, hidden in a copse of trees atop a cliff, hidden from the direct light of the setting sun. You had passed it by at least twice before realizing that you could actually get in there, and were surprised when he was actually in there.

“You jerk,” were the first words out of your mouth when you saw him, sitting as calm and pretty as could be on the worn rock perched near the cliff edge. Clearly someone knew that the view was gorgeous and had managed to position it just perfectly for sitting and relaxing. He had to have heard you stumbling around out there and hadn’t said a word to alert you to his presence. “You could have said something. I’ve been looking for you for at least an hour.”

He snorted, glaring at you before turning back to face the ocean. “Only an hour? I’ve been gone for at least five.” He sounded unusually petulant, and his mouth was set in a hard line, giving him a sour expression.

Okay, that was weird. Was it your imagination, or did he sound hurt that it took you “so long” to find him? In fact, he sounded almost sullen.

“Isa?” you asked, taking a seat next to him. You took his hand in yours, locking your fingers together and just gazing at him. His mouth was twisting, like he was biting his tongue, and you knew it wouldn’t be long before he started talking.

True to form, it only took a minute before he was spilling, and you couldn’t tell if it was more sadness or anger in his words.

“Everyone else is so happy together. They all went through so much together, they saved the worlds together. Hell, even Hayner, Pence, and Olette helped. And it shows. I just feel so out of place.” His voice dropped to a whisper, and he wouldn’t look at you, not even a glance from the corner of his eye. “I don’t belong with them, not after what I did to all of them. I don’t deserve to be happy.”

You pursed your lips, turning to face the ocean, watching a wave roll up and break against a rock protruding from the surface of the water. He had told you some time ago that he was part of the group that had caused all the chaos, and had even gone back to them after his defeat at Sora’s hands, but it wasn’t something that you had actually talked about. Sometimes, he got into a funk of sorts, and you knew that it always had something to do with his past, but this didn’t feel the same. He had never acted like he didn’t want to be with you or the others, and had definitely never expressed such a negative sentiment before. It worried you that he was hiding just how badly it effected him on a daily basis, and you would have to address that later.

For now, you had this to deal with. “Isa, I know that’s how you feel, and I don’t want to diminish that, but the other’s already know what you did. You did it too them. Don’t you think if they were holding it against you, you would know it?”

He snorted again, a cross between annoyed and amused. “They’re all just too nice to push me out. They think I wasn’t myself. But it was me, _____. I can still feel it, sometimes, trying to rear back up. It’s easier to push it down now, but sometimes... I’m afraid I’m going to hurt you.” There, he’d said it. It had been sitting in his heart for so long that it felt like a weight was lifted physically from his shoulders, even as a new fear replaced it. But the new one, the one that feared you wouldn’t know how to handle his, admittedly deep, well of issues was easier to handle, if only because now you at least knew.

Your silence stretched out, and he couldn’t find words to ease you, even though everything in him screamed to console you, to lie and say he wouldn’t, he would never, that he was strong enough to reign it in, because he couldn’t be sure of that. And it wasn’t fair to you to claim that.

After what seemed like forever, you stood up, letting go of his hand. Fear lanced through him, a steady diatribe of negative words building up in his head as he watched you turn towards to the hidden opening of the grove. Then you turned back, a warm, if not quite tight, smile on your face and promised to be right back. And then you were gone.

The sun seemed to be so much brighter, the air so much warmer outside of the dense cluster of trees and, as much as your mind tried to attribute it to the conversation, you were beholden to no such ideas. An idea you were willing to give into, though, was a much better one, a legend you had been told by the natives about a certain star-shaped fruit that only grew on the islands. They were in abundance here, and it didn’t take you long to find one. It was heavier than you imagined it to be, bigger too, and surprisingly it did make an impact on your return back to Isa.

By the time you made it, the sun was nearly gone and you were out of breath. Isa was staring at you, sitting in the same spot you had left him, and you had the feeling that he had been watching the path the whole time, waiting for you to appear again.

Skepticism swept across his face when he caught sight of the fruit in your hands, followed by confusion. “What is that?”

“Oh, the others didn’t tell you about these?” you asked, looking down at the bright yellow star in your hands. He hadn’t been around when you were told, but you had assumed someone would tell him, given how popular the legend was here. You blushed a little as you sat down next to him, close enough that your thighs touched and you could feel the warmth radiation off of him. It had sounded cute in your head, but the idea of explaining it was less appealing. “The islanders have a superstition about these. They’re called paopu fruits, and supposedly if two people share them, their destinies will be bound together. They’ll always find their way back to each other.”

You could see Isa’s eyes widen, flick to your face for just a second, before they landed back on the fruit. He took it from your hands gingerly, as if he was afraid it would bite him, and examined it, like he was looking from some sign of magic in it. He set it down in his lap, still just staring at it without a word, and you half-expected him to start laughing and reject it.

But to your surprise, he sounded almost hopeful as he asked, “Do you want to share it with me?”

Without a word, you took the fruit back and split it as evenly as you could down the middle, handing him half and without hesitation taking a bite out of the other. Wonder filled his eyes, and they never left yours as he took a bite from the center. The both of you waited a few seconds for a sense that something had changed, for magic to swirl around you, for something. The seconds turned into minutes and...nothing.

Your lips twitched before spreading into a grin, and then you started laughing. “Well, that was anticlimactic. I don’t know what I was expecting but...” you said, looking down at the piece in your hands. It still looked like just a regular piece of fruit. “Well, at least it tasted good.”

Isa chuckled as well, but he was still staring at you in awe. You had been willing, with no hesitation whatsoever, to tie your destiny with his. His sense of worth had never been tied to what other people thought of him, but as he sat there and watched you laugh, it made him realize that you, of everyone, treated him the most normal. The others never meant to, but they always made him feel like he was outside of their little bubble of friendship, like he was only ever included because he was there, like he was an afterthought and could disappear without notice. When you appeared and weaseled your way into his heart, he had been reluctant to let it go any further, afraid that you were going to turn on him when everything came to light.

But you hadn’t. You had taken him by the hand and brought him into the fold, made him feel like he could belong.

Warmth towards you filled his chest, and he took the fruit from your hands and flung them into the water far below.

“Isa?” you said, watching him turn back towards you. Your hands were sticky from the fruit juice, as were his, but it didn’t seem to deter him as he pulled you up from the rock and into his chest.

His voice was a deep rumble and full of wonder when he said, “Thank you, _____. I don’t know what I did to deserve this, but thank you.”

All you had time to do was squeak as his lips covered yours, warm and sticky and sweet. Your eyes fluttered closed and you wrapped your arms around his neck, preventing him from moving back as you opened your mouth to his. It was bliss in it’s purest form and you never wanted it to stop.

But from a distance, you heard the sounds of your names being called, and started to pull back.

“Not yet,” Isa said, keeping you pressed close. “It’ll take them a minute to find us. Let’s just stay here for a while longer.”

jesus christ this is so long now askdhfa;j i’ve no idea how it got so out of hand? somehow it’s 2k words??? well enjoy the fluff anyway lol

[nightglider124]

RobStar Week 2019: Day 4

Shock, I went with the most generic idea for this one bc I just... couldn’t think of a smart way around the prompt so I went for the normal stuff but I hope you guys still like it...

Heads up... this has not been proofread yet... like none of them have; I’ll end up proofreading them all like the end of this week when I put the oneshots on ff.net.

___________________________________________________________

Fever

Small, intricate kisses of snow fell from the grey sky; bleak in appearance but birthing a truly wonderful spectacle of nature. The snowflakes floated down like an army but there was a gentleness to the way they touched the Earth; graceful and unhindered.

Snow had fallen through the entirety of the night; blankets of white coated the city; roads and buildings adorning a thick layer of the stuff. Cars slowly drove around the near deserted roads with chunks of snow atop their roofs, waiting for it to fade and melt, rather than bothering to scrape it away themselves.

It had been a particularly bitter start to Winter in the confines of Jump city; the bite that accompanied the blustery gales was especially sharp. It was the type of sting that turned cheeks rosy, that caused warm skin to plummet in temperature and numbness to set in where tingles lingered, all in a matter of seconds.

The nights were the worst to endure; the freezing temperature would be static, hanging in the air like an unwanted presence and coming for those trying their hardest to avoid it. The winds were stronger and they carried a harsher sensation than the day time did; like icicles pricking the surface of skin, pain shooting all the way down to the toes. 

But, despite the hazardous weather conditions, there were certain vigilantes who believed strongly in that heroes never stopped, even if snow and coldness seemingly blocked them.

Robin had taken the liberty of completing the nightly patrol for the previous evening; staying out in the city from midnight, all the way through to the early hours of the current day. He’d remained wrapped in his cape, evidently forgoing his thermal uniform, deciding it wasn’t going to be quite that cold at the start of November.

He shifted, throwing himself back and forth beneath the heavy covers that smothered his body, cocooning him in warmth that was not the kind that offered comfort and content. It was hot; sweltering and blistering like he could burst into flames at any given moment.

It felt like too much; an overwhelming sense of fire, building and flushing against his skin, from head to toe. 

Thin layers of sweat could be felt on various points of his body and he felt sticky. He wanted to tear the covers off of him as well as wanting to remove everything on his body that he could. His uniform had long been discarded and he lay in bed in nothing but a pair of boxers.

However, even the thin material of his underwear felt as though it was getting too much to bare. 

Robin attempted to hurl the covers off and onto the floor, but the minute he shifted and moved the sheets away, he shuddered and felt goosebumps speckle across his exposed skin. He shivered and tugged the covers back up and over his head.

His chest was heavy as he forced himself to breathe louder and more forcefully, something stopping him from hearing the rhythm as it normally flowed. His ears felt full and fuzziness clouded his thoughts, feeling woozy whenever he turned his head.

Robin could feel the bunged up annoyance in his nose; the telltale signs of a flu like illness. 

Groaning to himself, he barked out a throaty cough and sank his face back into the comfort of his pillow, allowing his arms to flop out at his sides. One arm slipped off of the mattress completely and his fingers brushed against the carpet below him

The boy wonder was so exhausted, mentally and physically that he didn’t even hear the door swoosh open, nor did he hear the shuffling feet to signify someone entering his personal domain.

“Robin?” 

He was groggy, not being too certain if he had actually heard anything at all. But, he could have sworn he heard a velvet smooth voice; one that was oh so familiar to him.

“Robin?”

Suddenly, his eyes cracked open just a touch, a headache beginning to bloom immediately after the first ray of mangled sunlight met his gaze. He opened his mouth and was confused when he didn’t receive a reply, only to realize moments later that he hadn’t actually uttered a single vocal word.

He felt her crouch beside his bed, the natural warmth that she radiated bathing his skin and whilst it wasn’t terrible, it wasn’t too comfortable either, given his current predicament.

Her jade eyes skimmed over his body, accessing him. Placing a hand on his back, she frowned and her brows knitted together in worry.

“Robin… are you well?”

He tried to mumble a reassurance, tried to make his voice sound like he hadn’t just gargled sandpaper.

If anything, Starfire became more concerned when he spoke, her fingers clenching against the material of the covers.

She turned her body towards him and peeled back the covers slightly, despite his protests, so that his bare, sweaty back was exposed.

Touching his back before trailing her fingers up his spine and neck, Starfire stroked his hair, trying her best to soothe her clearly sick boyfriend.

Through the haze of sleep and his new flu symptoms, Robin smiled to himself and hummed in appreciation for the gesture.

Her hand lifted and she pressed the back of it to his forehead and cheeks, “Oh, Robin…” she muttered, “I told you it would be foolish to do the patrol last night. Even I would have had trouble adjusting to that coldness.”

“... S’fine…” He mumbled, limply waving his hand in dismissal.

Starfire stood up and placed her hands on her hips, shaking her head at him, “It is not fine, Robin. You are sick.” She paused and strode towards the door, “I will return momentarily.”

He made a half hearted attempt at calling out for her but he just sounded muffled, with little of his voice actually singing through the air.

With a determined growl, he slowly turned over onto his back and propped himself up onto his elbows, trying his best to ignore the way his stomach lurched and his head spun.

Robin hunched forward as a series of coughs broke free from his mouth; a hacking, rough type of sound.

He coughed and sputtered before he took a shuddering breath to calm down, his shoulders heaving from the onslaught.

Sighing, Robin leaned his head back against the wall, his pillow now cushioning his lower back.

Admittedly, he felt better sitting upright; not much but it helped a fraction.

He sniffled, finding himself struggling to breathe; his head feeling plugged by the nasal constriction as he opted to breathe through his mouth.

Robin opened his eyes as much as he could manage, glaring at the pale ceiling above him as he tried to get his morning bearings.

Suddenly, his door slid open and Starfire floated through with a tray in her hands, filled up with an assortment of what he assumed would be remedies for his cold.

He cracked a smile, just for her; only for her when he felt so atrocious.

“Star… really, I’m fi-” Robin cut himself off as he sneezed, his whole body jerking forward at the force,

His girlfriend gave him a blank look that he knew she had picked up from Raven by the sheer disbelief written across her features.

“You are not fine, Robin.” She commented, clicking her tongue at him, “You are the clammy and your voice is croaky and you have the fever.”

“I’m a little hot but I don’t have a-”

Before he could finish, Starfire used one hand that was on the tray to pass him a thermometer, “We shall see. Open your mouth please.”

Robin blinked at her and sighed; he did feel awful but he didn’t want her worrying any more than she already appeared to be so he decided to let her nurse him.

And he would try not to enjoy it as best he could.

The boy wonder followed her with a cerulean gaze as she fussed, setting the tray down, fluffing the pillow behind his back as well as pressing a cooling pack to his forehead, gentle as ever.

Finally the device that he had beneath his tongue made several beeps, signifying it had reached the conclusion they were both waiting for.

Starfire plucked it from between his lips and narrowed her eyes at the number it read, “38.5 degrees.”

He swallowed and fidgeted under her concerned stare, “See? It’s not… that high…”

Her brows furrowed as she placed it on the tray, “It is higher than it should be, Richard.”

Ignoring the muzzy notion in his head, he grabbed her hand and stopped her from moving again, “Hey, stop, okay? I’m fine. It’s just a little cold is all. Raven’s healed me when I’ve been sick loads of times.”

Forest green collided with deep blue as she met his gaze, “I know but Raven will not be home until later today. She is out with Beast Boy and… I do not want you to worsen until she is back…”

Robin smiled before he began sniffling and gave into a small coughing fit.

Starfire was behind him in seconds, patting his back in an attempt to help in any way she could. He took comfort in the soft touch that grazed his skin, her palms offering help and love that he couldn’t deny.

“Please… I have made you an Earth soup that I have read is good for humans when they are sick.” Starfire murmured, getting up and cupping the bowl of soup.

She lifted it toward his face and his stomach rumbled at the smell of it; he assumed it was chicken but he was surprised that it smelt so divine.

“Cyborg helped me to prepare it…” She told him, shyly ducking her head,

He grinned despite his aching bones and muscles screaming at him not to, “It smells great…” Robin paused, “Well… from what I can smell.”

Starfire giggled and passed the broth to him. Robin took a deep breath, trying to glean some of the scent but failing to do so. He grabbed the spoon and carefully started eating it, the sensation of heat trickling down his throat and soothing the soreness.

“That helps?” She wondered,

He sighed and briefly closed his eyes, “It does, thank you.” 

Robin saw the way her smile lit up her whole face at that answer and she sat up straight, pride swelling within her at making herself useful while he was not well.

He sniffled as he devoured the soup, only realizing he was so famished when he was halfway through the bowl. As he ate the very last of the soup, he took a deep breath and set the now empty bowl back on the tray beside him.

“You know… there’s something else which could really help me feel better…” Robin muttered, lacing his fingers with hers,

Starfire tilted her head at him, “Oh?”

“Well… kisses are often given to make loved ones feel better on Earth…”

She gave him a smirk, “Oh, is that so?”

“Uh huh…” He replied, forcing a puppy face as much as he could,

“I suppose…” She trailed off as she leaned across the space between them, placing a hand on the bed to support herself.

Starfire lifted her head and pressed her lips to his, melding them to his without so much as a stroke of effort; they fit together so well. His lips were cold but before long, there were sparks across the tender skin, leaving a burst of heat all over the nerve endings in them.

After a long moment, Starfire pulled back, winking at him and smirking before she took a seat on the edge of his bed once more,

“Happy?” 

Robin grinned, sitting there with a dopey expression amidst his still unwell appearance, “Very... “ He paused and froze, “I… uh… I hope I won’t get you sick.”

Her silver tinkling laugh bounced around his bedroom and she waved her hand, “Do not fear, Robin… I cannot contract human viruses… even if I gave you a thousand kisses.”

“Hey, a thousand kisses sounds like a good type of remedy for this…” He smirked,

She blinked at her pale, poorly boyfriend and shook her head, bursting into laughter as he tugged her forward for more affection to which she happily obliged him. 

[lg-bts-cenarios]

BTS reacting to their boyfriend arguing with another member.

school is so stressful,, i wish i was talented and could rely on something other than a 9 to 5 job aha (posts might slow down a lil bc i’m so busy)

⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️⬇️

Jungkook immediately had your back and defended you from Hoseok’s scolding. It was understandable that he was a bit stressed out about Jungkook taking a week’s worth of vacation days when he was still struggling with the choreography they planned to perform soon, but Jungkook already dedicates so much of his time to his work- it’s only fair that he gets to spend your one year anniversary with you. It takes a little more shouting and a lot more whining from Jungkook’s part, but Hoseok eventually agrees that Jungkook needs a break. “Hoseok-hyung is just worried that I’ll mess up the choreography, but don’t worry baby, I’ll work hard and practice now so that we can relax on our trip.”

Jimin was shocked to walk into the living room to see you and Seokjin insulting each other without holding back whatsoever. He immediately tried to jump in, demanding to know what was going on. Despite Seokjin letting everyone in the dorm know that he was cooking a delicious dinner for everyone, you and Jungkook went behind his back and ordered Pizza. Jimin rolled his eyes, but laughed, relieved that the argument was over something ridiculous instead of something serious. “Aish- what did I tell you about listening to the maknae? Seokjin worked hard on the food, so for every bite of pizza you take- you better take two bites of his food.”

Taehyung stood without knowing what to do as you and Yoongi continued to talk over each other, each claiming that the other was wrong. Taehyung looked up to Yoongi a lot, but he also loved you a lot, so he found himself struggling to figure out who’s side to take. In the end, he interrupted your discussion, “Baby, you look really handsome when you’re heated, so it’s really hard to say this- but I agree with Yoongi-hyung. Gucci Gang is definitely a modern masterpiece and despite the whole song only repeating the same five or six words over and over again- It’s gucci, so all of the attention the song got, it deserved.”

Hoseok tried to calm himself down as you and Jungkook continued to shout at each other, the younger’s voice cracking with how frustrated he felt. “Hoseok-hyung, it’s not fair! I know he’s your boyfriend and you guys want to spend all your free time together, but you promised Taehyung and I that you’d help us with the choreography this saturday.” Despite the maknae’s argument, Hoseok decided that he’d spend the saturday with you as he told Jungkook, “I can help you with the moves anytime, but not saturday. Because of tour and all of our schedules, M/N and I barely get to hang out... tell Tae that I’ll have to take a rain check, sorry Jungkookie.”

Yoongi sat down on your lap and played with your hair even though you refused to look at him, still disappointed over the argument you had with Namjoon just minutes ago. You and Yoongi came to him asking for permission to come out and admit your relationship, despite how progressive Namjoon is and how much he supports your relationship, he’s also realistic and smart enough to know that it wouldn’t be a wise career move, so not only would it hurt Yoongi, but BTS as a whole. “Baby, I hate to admit it, but Namjoon is right. We’re at a very important part in our career right now and alghough I don’t give a fuck what the world thinks of us dating, I can’t come out knowing it’ll affect the other members negatively.“

Seokjin held your hand and politely asked Jimin to leave the bedroom, but you could tell his patience was wearing thin. Jimin looked like he had more bitching to do, but bit his tongue and walked out, closing the door with a slam. Jimin and you had been watching television together on Jin’s bed, when you made an insensitive comment about a character’s weight, which was a sore subject for Jimin. When it was just you and Jin, he shook his head in disapproval and sighed, “I know you didn’t mean anything by it, but you shouldn’t make those comments with Jimin around, those jokes aren’t funny to him. He lashed out because he was hurt, so please apologize to him, baby.”

Namjoon wanted to support you because you’re his boyfriend, but he also didn’t want Seokjin to feel disrespected- even if it was for such a stupid reason. Seokjin had tried to kindly ask you to avoid having sex with Namjoon inside the dorm while he and the other members were inside, because the walls were too thin. Admittedly, you had overreacted and went off on him because it was already hard enough to hang out with Namjoon since he was always so busy touring in foreign countries, but going out and finding somewhere that won’t expose your relationship is even more difficult. Namjoon smiled as he watched you pout, “He didn’t mean to make you feel embarrassed- don’t worry about it, babe. I’ll just buy Jin-hyung some noise cancelling headphones or something, okay?”

[brockachu]

is it just me or has höglander barely played since grandpa Bruce took over?

so before i get into dissecting the hockey, gonna say up front, again — hoglander has exhibited islamophobic behavior that i take issue with and i generally keep him off my blog as much as i possibly can. linking a source post (link), my stance on it (link) (this is also my pinned post), & a longer breakdown of my issues with it (link) (last post is admittedly aggressive in tone but my points stand).

i would like to request that i don’t have to discuss hoglander or similarly problematic players again in the future unless we’re all having a big talk about how their behaviors make hockey an exclusive and unsafe culture for poc, muslims, jewish people, lgbtq people, etc. i just do not care to discuss hockey as ‘just hockey’ in regards to these players. it’s not in my personal values.

but since we're already here, out of curiosity i did check bc i wasn’t sure about the answer to your question — technically speaking, he’s being played very similar minutes as he was under green. the difference is his placement isn’t as central — very limited to no pp time, definitely no pk time, and almost exclusively offensive zone deployment. ie bruce isn’t trusting him on the full sheet, which i can’t blame bruce for. hoglander has never been good about finishing his checks or consistent forechecking and doesn’t tend to engage in puck battles that aren’t started by his opponents -- in other words, he's bad at bruce's solution for us to have a forward-thinking offense to buffer our roster's defensive issues. he’s also been a bit of a non-factor in a lot of our best rushes since bruce took over. there are a lot of his fans who will disagree with me & think that this is down to his deployment (i bite my tongue on hockey twitter bc i have no interest in fighting on there) — i don’t really give a fuck bc i want him off my team since i know not to expect him to learn better or for anyone with authority to give a damn that his off-ice behavior contributes to violence against muslims (and other brown folks who ppl assume are muslim), but this is me rehashing my previous rant about social impact.

so now we’re full circle — this is the last time i’m discussing his hockey and he & his fans can stay well away from my blog, please

[sarkastically]

40. "I laugh along but inside I know that it’s true: Being in love is totally punk rock. (quiet kisses are so hardcore)" but! I challenge you to write it in Chirrut's POV >:3c bc there is a *huge* deficit of it

(I’m so glad you asked for this one. I totally wanted to do it and had always been planning to use Chirrut for the pov because it fit him better in my mind. Anyway, modernish AU. Slightly nsfw. Slight homophobia mentions, nothing major. Sexual situations. Mostly fluff.)

They have a tradition for Valentine’s Day:

They both take the day off and spend at least two extra hours in bed, waking languidly and at their own pace, which mostly means that Chirrut wakes as early as normal but lets Baze sleep and Baze, who often sleeps so little, gets a bit of a lie in while Chirrut traces his fingers over his husband’s features and just enjoys the peace and warmth of him in their bed together. Eventually, Baze will stir, and they will cuddle and kiss and whisper hundreds of sappy, flowery things because Chirrut married a romantic, after all, and still has not been able to cure him of the habit. (And he wouldn’t want to, no matter how much he sometimes rolls his eyes and clicks his tongue and chides Baze when he starts fretting about the fact that the table isn’t set right because it’s not like Chirrut can see it. Baze could simply tell him that it’s fine, and he would believe him. But this is Baze, and Baze steadfastly does not lie. He just fusses and worries and waxes poetic all day long.)

Once they manage to pry themselves out of the warmth of their bed and each other, they settle into the kitchen where Chirrut prattles and makes the tea while Baze fixes whatever insanely complicated but delicious thing he has planned for breakfast. From brioche to French Toast to strange muffins to bagels to beignets, Chirrut has tasted everything his husband bakes, and it is all good, to varying degrees. He likes some things more than others. And some dishes require a more strenuous exercise routine in order to keep them from sticking to places that Chirrut does not want. Baze fusses about that, too, about how slim and toned and perfect Chirrut remains while he has a layer of fat stretched over his own muscles that will not shift or move and seems to get worse with each passing year. Chirrut only runs his hands across the expanse of Baze’s chest and thighs and ass (especially his ass, Chirrut is fine with every single bite of brioche going right there) and tells him, over and over, how much he loves it, how attractive it makes him until Baze is flustered in an entirely different way that typically ends with one of them giving the other a blowjob in the middle of the kitchen behind the island but still in front of the full-length glass windows, though they face the sea so Baze only needs to worry about nosy mermaids and birds spying on them. Chirrut has no such qualms and would happily blow his husband in front of windows facing their neighbors if Baze would concede to it. But he won’t. Not even on Chirrut’s birthday. He’s asked.

After breakfast, they shower together, fingers running through the water and over bodies that have changed with time but so gradually that they know each other as well now as they ever have. And Chirrut washes Baze’s hair, which makes him moan and sigh in the way that always leads to more kissing and lingering touches and then if Baze’s knees are cooperating, sex in the shower. This has gotten progressively less common as they age and, admittedly, a little harder, but still good. Just as everything they have together is good.

Sometimes, when Baze’s knees are not cooperating, like today, they tumble out of the shower in a flurry of wet skin and barely thoroughly conditioned hair to take the petting and lovemaking to the bed where Baze is as gentle as always, and Chirrut is all smiles and slow, tantalizing thrusts until he can get Baze wound up enough to be as vocal as he wants him. Baze has a voice that echoes through his body like an earthquake, and Chirrut loves to hear the house filled up with his shouts of pleasure when he hits just the right spot. Nothing makes him harder, nothing makes him come quicker than hearing how much Baze enjoys it when they are intertwined.

Sprawled on the bed, which is wet now so the sheets will need to be changed and then Baze will fuss and swap out the duvet as well and probably open the curtains to let the light in and make sure the mattress dries thoroughly, Chirrut catches his husband’s hand and places a kiss on the inside of his wrist, right over where he can feel his pulse, the strong, firm reminder of that heart that beats, each lubdub of it another moment they have together. The best way to keep Baze from fretting over something is to keep him occupied. So Chirrut kisses and laps and runs his teeth over the inside of Baze’s wrist until he thinks that he could come again from the sighs and moans Baze makes alone, the way his husband runs a hand through his short hair, curls his fingers around his neck, insistent but never a threat. Baze has enough strength to crack cups in two in his hands but is the gentlest soul that Chirrut has ever known. He’s heard Baze cry over flowers that will not grow no matter how tenderly he takes care of them. He’s known Baze to weep about how beautiful he thinks Chirrut is when the sun hits him just right. He’s held his hand while he came undone when his mother died even though she refused to speak to him after they married, a blow that Baze has still never quite healed from.

His love gives people pause on the street, but cups insects in his great palms to ferry them outside rather than squash them. It’s Chirrut people should be wary of and then they never are. Fools, the lot of them.

“Love,” he murmurs, lifting his mouth from Baze’s wrist, and tilting his head in the general direction of where he knows he is based on the sound of his breathing and where he can feel his warmth.

Baze hums in response and the hand on Chirrut’s neck tightens just a little, enough to make him close his eyes and sigh.

“Do you remember our first Valentine’s Day together?”

This time Baze laughs and Chirrut could sprawl out in that warm sound and sleep, like a cat in the sunshine. “That punk rock show, yes?”

“Yes.”

“I hated that. It was too loud and there were too many people. And I couldn’t talk to you.”

“You hate talking.”

Baze does not rise to the bait, and Chirrut is teasing anyway. Baze does not like talking, but Baze likes talking to him. Baze will talk for hours, and Chirrut likes nothing more than to settle his head on his chest and listen to him and feel him talk. The more animated about something Baze gets, the better it is because it changes the vibrations of his voice, makes something flow inside of his chest like a lantern. When Baze talks about him, his endless flowery poetry voice, he always glows.

“I couldn’t hear you. I love listening to you,” Baze says instead of protesting.

Chirrut laughs, and he can feel Baze turn more toward him, his other hand coming to rest on his hip, thumb tracing idle circles against the skin. “We remember it differently. I loved it.”

Baze hums again and the thumb presses into his skin slightly, a signal for Chirrut to continue talking.

“It was our fourth date, I think. And it was strange because I loved you. I had loved you for so long, but it was. I knew your mother wouldn’t approve so I was always hesitant about it, about loving you, about wanting you and letting you know because I was not going to be that for you, I was not going to make you choose.”

Baze’s silence has changed, grown more somber, and Chirrut presses another kiss to his wrist to try and staunch the sadness before it grows. That is something he has to watch with Baze, the man is as full of emotions as the sea is flush with water, adding more just causes problems, people drown.

“There, there, my love. There, there,” he croons, and Baze’s thumb goes back to tracing idly over his skin.

“So I thought I would ask you to accompany me to a place that would make you the most uncomfortable because that would give you a good reason to let me go if you wanted to if you needed to. I know you. You hate to disappoint, but you hate even more to be uncomfortable.” Chirrut stops, smiles, and he knows that Baze is watching him. There is a weighty quality to Baze’s stares. It is like being surveyed by an otherworldly creature; an otherworldly creature that adores you.

“But you said yes. I didn’t think you would. You came. And when the moshing started, you stood behind me, and you wrapped your arms around my shoulders to hold me steady, to make sure that I was alright.”

Baze presses a kiss to his shoulder, a silent urging on.

“I considered decking you for that because I was capable of taking care of myself, and I was used to the punk shows. And then I thought, ah me, this man wants to take care of me. This man is willing to be uncomfortable for me because I enjoy this thing.” Chirrut reaches up to find Baze’s face, fingers tracing over his lips and into his hair. “And that was when I knew that not only did I love you but that I was not going to love anyone else other than you.”

Baze’s voice sounds thick and strained when he speaks, and Chirrut does not need to touch his cheeks to know that he is crying. “Do you remember after the show?”

“Yes,” Chirrut leans forward to kiss him. “I remember. All your soft kisses. So quiet. So shy. Peppered across my skin like you thought I was fragile when I finally managed to seduce you enough to undress me.”

“I was scared that I would do it wrong. Or that you wouldn’t like it.”

“No, no. Never.”

“Do you remember what you said to calm me?”

Chirrut laughs again, slides closer, one leg slipping between Baze’s to apply firm but gentle pressure to his already hardening length. Maybe they will not get around to the rest of the tradition today, after all. Chirrut would not mind. “I do,” he whispers into Baze’s ear before his teeth tug gently at the lobe and Baze’s hands slide around his waist. “I told you not to worry. That you were hardcore. That we were punk rock. You were so startled I thought you were going to shake apart.”

Baze’s finger skates across Chirrut’s lip and then lower, spreading out over his chest. “It was your fishnets that shook me. Not being called punk rock. I was in a cardigan. I was the least punk rock thing about that night.”

“No, dear, our being in love in and of itself is punk rock.” Before Baze can protest, Chirrut slots their lips together, loses his tongue in Baze’s mouth, lets all their sense rush out in the tangling of limbs, the new crescendo of sighs and gasps and moans, the slow building to cries of pleasure loud enough to make him grin the smile that Baze always calls shark-faced.

Afterwards, instead of getting dressed up for a fancy dinner, they order pizza and spend the rest of the night in bed, trading quiet kisses. It is still just as punk rock as it was all those years ago even without the addition of a mosh pit or loud music or fishnets.

[fexalted]

@asdmabel said: MULTIPLES!!! OF!!! THREE!!! MULTIPLES!!! OF!!! THREE!!! MULTIPLES!!! OF!!! THREE!!!

hahaha why am i not surprised

posting it like this bc readmores on ask posts sometimes don't work on mobile? and this is gonna get super long, so (also warning for talk of self harm / child abuse)

3 is a fic where ford, post-bill betrayal, uses the copy machine to make a clone of himself that can perform the surgery to put the metal plate in his head. it's in 2nd person (bc i'm incapable of writing anything else), and in the clone ford's pov

Ford opens an eye, squinting against the overhead light. You shut it off so he doesn't have to strain to see you, and he blinks groggily, taking in the room around him with a bleary gaze before settling on you.

You're about to tell him that the surgery went well, everything is fine, he's going to be okay, but Ford speaks before you do, shattering what little composure you have with one word.

"Stanley?" he breathes incredulously, his voice weak and cracking.

You're not sure if you have a heart anymore but you feel like it just stopped regardless. He's delusional, clearly the anesthesia hasn't worn off completely yet, and he's mistaken you for your—his—brother.

"I... I'm—" you start to explain, but stop suddenly. Ford's eyes are hazy and unfocused but hopeful, and you find you can't take that hope away so quickly. You might as well let one of you believe that Stan is actually here for you.

So you clear your throat and put on your best impression of Stan. Which, admittedly, is not very great; you're a little out of practice.

"Y-Yeah, Ford. It's me. It's Stan."

"Stanley," he says again, softer this time, more like a sigh. He reaches out for you and you flinch back, jerking your hands away instinctively before he can notice the number of fingers on them, and his face just crumples.

6 is the note of cut parts from other fics! which means i get to share the original ending i had started writing for make me believe again!! :D

...which i maybe shouldn't be so excited about, considering the subject matter, oops. in the initial draft of the fic, stan had also self-harmed in the past, and this ending was attempting to address that. i didn't get super far with it bc it was giving me some hard mood whiplash and i couldn't figure out how to fix it, but here it is anyway

"Hi, I'm Steve Pinington! Are you sick of bandages that are hard to remove? Then what you need is the Rip Off!"

You turn to Stanley, eyebrow raised, your expression a cross between confused and amused. "Steve Pinington?"

"Look, I uh, I couldn't use my real name, okay?" he explains, rubbing the back of his neck as his face and ears turn red with embarrassment. "Anyway they're not even supposed to be playing this anymore!"

"Please tell me that mustache is fake."

"Unfortunately, it isn't."

"Oh my god," you say, unable to stop a laugh from bubbling out of you. "How is that thing real? You couldn't even grow peach fuzz when we were teenagers!"

"Yeah, well, a lot of things have changed since then, haven't they?" Stanley snaps, and your laughter dies instantly. "Sorry," he adds a second later. "Just wasn't really in a good place back then."

You bite your tongue, your heart sinking. He wasn't just embarrassed, he was uncomfortable, and you just made things worse. And right after the two of you had started to truly patch up your relationship, no less!

You guess you both have more to talk about than you thought.

And you know you shouldn't ask what kind of place he was in then, but you're concerned and you need to make things okay again and he's rubbing at his arms and if you don't ask now you never will, so—

"Stanley," you start, hesitantly. "You don't have to answer this, but... The scars, on your arms. Are they...?" You can't seem to get out the final words, but thankfully he seems to get where you're trying to go.

"Some are from fights," he says. "A lot are, actually. You make more enemies than friends when you owe money to the wrong people. But, uh, some of the scars... I made."

Your heart shatters. "Stan..."

"I stopped, though!" he says quickly, before either one of you gets too emotional. "I stopped. I've been good about it, too. It's why I don't hide 'em. Feels like it helps to see how much they're healing or somethin', I dunno. Thought it might help you to see 'em, too. To know you're not alone, y'know?"

"I think seeing them has worried me more than anything, honestly," you say. "But I appreciate the thought behind it. I'm glad you're doing better."

"Right back at ya," Stanley says.

You don't ask him why he hurt himself. You don't really need to guess.

9 is a fic about stan and his conflicting feelings about filbrick (aka, the fic where i throw all my own dad issues). it's a bit of a mess bc i rarely have the energy to write in it so let's just skip to the end where ford gives stan a hug

"It wasn't your fault," Ford says. "You were just a kid, Stan. You didn't deserve any of that, and I'm sorry."

"Oh," you choke out, and you think you're crying? Your hands are shaking and there's a lump in your throat and your vision is blurring and yep those are definitely tears on your face. "Oh," you say again. Welp, this is embarrassing. You quickly try to scrub the tears from your eyes so you can save face in front of your brother, but Ford takes your hands and pulls you into a hug instead.

"I'm sorry," Ford says again, voice wobbling slightly. "I should've stood up for you back then. I should've protected you like you always protected me."

"That's—" you sniffle against Ford's shoulder, which is rapidly becoming soaked because of you. "That's not your fault, either. You were just a kid yourself. You got your fair share of it too."

"I know," he says. "I just..."

"It's okay."

"It's really not."

You try to laugh and end up making some sort of pathetic sob, half-stifled and choked off before it can escape your throat. Another sob slips out before you can hold it back, then another, and then you're all but bawling like a baby into your brother's sweater, while Ford rubs your back in gentle circles and you cling to him with a tight, trembling grip.

and last but not least, 12 is my brain trauma au fic, which i've already sent you a very stan-focused part of, so here's a smaller, still stan-focused bit (i promise this fic is actually about ford at least half the time shdksjdk) that i am very happy with

So maybe your grip is a little too tight when you take hold of both his hands, and maybe your voice is a little too loud and panicked when you tell him to look at you and breathe, but he listens, and he looks, and he breathes. And you grab his glasses and the two scrapbooks off the nightstand, and you flip through the pages together in silence.

And by dawn, the look of blank fear in your brother's eyes has been replaced by exhaustion and guilt and shame. He slumps against you, forehead pressed to your collarbone, and through the cracks in his voice come whispered apologies—for waking you, for scaring you, for forgetting you—and you drape a protective arm around his shoulders and shush him and tell him it's alright. He remembers again, and that's all that matters.

You have weathered your first storm at sea.

[platinumjeon]

Babygirl - Seokjin Smut (Rated M)

Anonymous said: Hello! Can I get a Jin smut, where you get kinda lonely as he always spends time with your 2 year old daughter, and he talks about her all the time. You don't say anything, bc you don't want to sound rude. You start to get insecure, bc you and Jin haven't been intimate since her birth. One day, Jin comes home early from practice (the daughter is at play group idk XD) and sees you crying. You open up about your insecurities adn he reminds you who his babygirl is heheheheeee... Thank you!

oh shit. i don’t know how this is gonna turn out. im nervous. oh god. this is gonna be under a read more because its long oops

warning: smut. smut. lil fluff. smut.

“Gah, isn’t she adorable?” 

Jin was sitting on the floor across from your two year old, handing her different toys that she would pick up and either chew on, throw, or hand them back to her daddy. Her little hands would grasp onto Jin’s fingers and she would try to pull Seokjin towards the princess barbie castle you had bought her for Christmas.

“Jinhee - hey, no, don’t put that in your mouth.” Jin said, gently taking the small plastic puzzle piece from his daughters hands. “You’re such a handful, but also such a cutie!” He’d say, hoisting the child up and tickling her so she giggled with happiness. 

You stood in the doorway, just observing your husband play with your daughter and her barbies. It was heart warming - and sweet, and adorable and everything in between. Although you didn’t want to admit it, though, its as if things between you and Jin had completely fizzled out. 

After having Jinhee - who was undoubtedly the light of your life - you felt unattractive, bored, and stressed. Life as a mom was everything you thought it would be: lots of happiness, laughter and admittedly, stress. But you never thought it would put a dent in yours and Jin’s intimacy. But instead of a dent, it’s as if it’s crashed completely and is unfix-able.

The next few days were the same. Jin got the baby up, dressed her for her play group, and packed a small bag to take with her for when her grandma picked her up later that day. You just sat in bed the entire time, playing with your phone. Seokjin was a good husband. He got your little girl up and ready for her group, and offered to do everything he possibly could when he was able. You almost felt like Jin would rather spend time with Jinhee than you.

The thought upset you so much that, when Jin came in carrying Jinhee to come say goodbye, you kissed your baby girl and hugged her tightly, but when Jin leaned forward to kiss you goodbye, you turned your head so his lips hit your cheek. He pulled back with a hurt look on his face, as if you had just betrayed him. Seokjin didn’t say anything though, and just picked Jinhee back up and walked out the door.

Hours passed by, and in a way you wished the day wouldn’t end so you didn’t have to deal with Jin cooing over your daughter again that night. You missed your husband. He was amazing and sweet but everything changed, and the fact that you and Jin hadn’t been intimate since Jinhee’s birth said a lot. 

With that thought, you crawled back into bed and let a tear slip, and then another. It’s not that you wished you never had Jinhee - oh, no. You just wished Jin knew how you felt. Lonely.

“Yeah. Thanks mom, I really appreciate it. Give Jinhee a kiss for me.” You heard Jin’s voice say as the sound of his shoes being kicked off echoed through the house. You stopped in your tracks, and pulled your sleeves over your hands to wipe away the tears that continued to roll down your cheeks. You heard him coming up the stairs and turned your back to the door so he wouldn’t see your puffy eyes.

“Hey, Y/N, I wanted to talk to you about - are you okay?” Jin asked as he opened the bedroom door and saw you just sitting there, trying not to look like you were just crying. Seokjin walked over to where you were sitting and staring out the window. He sat down next to you trying to peek at your face, but you continued to stare out the window and not look him in his eyes. 

“Y/N.” He said, pulling you by your shoulder to try and turn you towards him. Finally, you gave up and turned to your husband, who immediately saw your tear-stained cheeks and red eyes. “What’s going on, baby?” 

You scoffed at his choice of words before looking down at your hands. “I’m okay,” you said, trying to turn yourself towards the window again, but Jin wouldn’t have it. He grabbed your wrist and forced you to look straight at him, your back now facing the window you once looked out of.

“You’re not fine because you were crying. Can you tell me what’s wrong?” He said, softening his tone and now holding your hands in his and gently rubbing circles on your hand near your thumb. 

“I’m just - you’re so invested in Jinhee now. I love our little baby. So much, but ever since she was born we’ve done nothing. I feel unattractive and feel like my body is ruined, and I feel like now that Jinhee is here you’d just rather be a dad then a husband. Not that that’s a bad thing, because - well, Jin, she adores you. I just miss you.”

Jin looks surprised as he takes one of his hands from yours and wipes at your eyes. He turns his head and presses a kiss to your lips before gently pushing you down to lay on the bed, where his body hovers over yours. “I’m sorry you feel that way. I know I’m with Jinhee a lot, I just didn’t want to pressure you into anything if you weren’t up to it. I was going to talk to you about this, anyway.” Jin said, pressing another longer, more heated kiss to your lips. 

Without a response, you begin to kiss him back with even more passion. Maybe, finally, you could do this with Jin without thinking about -

“Seokjin -” you mumbled, pulling back from him. He wouldn’t let up and continued to kiss you as you tried to talk. “Where’s Jinhee? I need to go pick her -”

“She’s at my mom’s for the night,” he said, “tonight’s all for us.” His voice was raspy, but quiet as he began to kiss your neck. One hand was traveling up and down your body, squeezing one breast before moving onto your hips, and then to your thighs. You moaned into his mouth, slightly arching your back to give him better access to your neck and chest.

“Take this off,” he mumbled, tugging at your flower-patterned shirt. He grabbed the hem of his own shirt and swiftly pulled it over his head, where it landed next to your own shirt and bra on the floor. You admired his toned body - you’d seen him shirtless within the past few years but never in this light, and never in this tone of thought. 

He stopped for a moment to admire your own naked body, searching every inch of it before his eyes became dark and he leaned down to whisper, “This body, is not ruined.”

Seokjin’s mouth was warm as he began kissing from your neck to bottom of your stomach, his hands beginning to work at the button on your jeans before looking up at you with hooded eyes. With a grunt, he began to tug your jeans down your legs as you moved your feet to kick them off where they landed with a soft thud on the ground at the foot of the bed. Jin came back up to your face to kiss you again, this time his tongue swiping at your bottom lip to ask you to open your mouth, where you granted him the access he wanted. 

Breaking the kiss, without any warning Jin hooked a finger around the top of your underwear, and you internally cringed at yourself for not wearing a better pair. Pulling your underwear down your legs and discarding it where the jeans lay, immediately he pressed his lips to your clit and swirled his tongue around your most sensitive spot. You arched your back in surprise and pleasure as you threw your head back, moaning as he continued his quiet assault.

Jin flattened his tongue against your slit and licked a stripe to your clit, where he blew on the pink flesh before placing his finger against your slit and gently pushing in. “This okay?” Jin said as he watched your face as you arched your back again and opened your legs wider to accommodate his arm moving back and forth. Smirking, he puts his lips back on your clit before pumping his finger in and out of you before adding another digit, making you emit a loud moan. 

You could feel the heat rising in the pit of your stomach as if your insides were turning into knots. Breathing hitched, you reach down and grab a handful of Seokjin’s hair to gently push him to suck harder. He hums and the vibrations send shockwaves up your spine, making that knot in your stomach grow tighter as Jin continues to pump his fingers in and out of you, curling them and making your walls tighten around him.

Your legs began to shake as the orgasm was building up, and Jin knew to keep going. Right as you were about to tell him to go faster, he says, “Come for me, baby girl.” His raspy voice sent you over the edge, his tongue continuing his attack as you rode out your high.

Breath heavy, he removed his fingers and climbed back up to your face. You began to sit up for his turn, but his hand was pressed to your shoulder and pushing you back down before you could say anything. “Remember that tonight is about you.” He said, kissing you again so you couldn’t protest. Your hands worked at his belt before pushing his pants down his toned legs. Without thought, your fingers pulled his underwear down to reveal his dick and you bite your lip as it springs out against his lower stomach.

Immediately, you switch positions so he’s pressed flat against the bed, while you snake down and press your lips to his abs. You hear him make small moaning noises as you take your sweet time kissing every inch of his sinful body, while your hand gripped his dripping hard on, swiping away the precum that had collected at the slit with your thumb. He shifts his weight when you touch him, and he hisses when you finally put your mouth around his throbbing member.

His body twists and his hips gently thrust into your mouth as he lets out moan after moan, your warm mouth guiding him towards his own high. Your tongue swirls around the head of his dick before licking a strip down the shaft and going back up again to tongue the slit. Jin continues his thrusting, slowly pushing himself farther down your throat until you’re about to gag. The sounds he makes turns both of you on, almost a strangled moan, and you can tell by the pleasured look on his face that he was close. “I’m not gonna last-” he begins, and with one more hard suck you take his cock out of your mouth with a pop.

Seokjin peers down at you with an unrecognizable look on his face before grabbing your wrist and throwing you down on the bed, hovering over you as he leans down again to press a long, rough kiss to your lips before leaning up and gently aligning himself with your entrance. With a glance to your face, he could tell that you were anticipating feeling him - finally - and without anymore hesitation, he presses into you slowly to make sure you’re comfortable. He sighs with pleasure as you let out a loud moan, and he leans down to messily kiss you again.

Sweaty locks of hair tickle the side of your cheek as he begins to move and thrust inside of you, and you lock your legs around his lower waist as Jin decides to go faster. The only sound in the room is both of your ragged breathing, and Seokjin was barely be able to get out an, “Okay?” as his skin slaps against yours.

The knot in your stomach had grown to an unbelievable size and you were kissing Jin just as he hit the spot inside of you that made your toes curl up in ecstasy. “Fuck!” You yell into his mouth, and you notice through half-closed eyes that he was smirking as his hips slammed into your own harder and faster until you were shouting at the top of your lungs. Just as you were about to hit your high, Jin left out a breathy “fuck, Y/N,” before you felt his cock twitch and spill into you. 

The sight of his face twisted in utter pleasure sent you over the edge once again, white hot shock waves racing through you as you began to see spots in your vision. As you came down from your orgasm, the bed dipped slightly beside you as Jin lay next to you, arms behind his head. The two of you just lay there for a good five minutes until both of your orgasms have run their course and your breathing became regular.

Seokjin turned to you and put his arm around your waist, pulling your back against his chest. “You’ll always be my baby girl, you know that, right?” He said, a smirk playing on his lips and his chin in the crook of your neck. You smile, before turning over to kiss his lips once again. 

--

so that was fun um anyway can i go back to fluff now i think i just wrote the worst smut known to man goodnight