#but i only know something like two lines and a half from it

[salvieslovenotes]

Mirror Mirror

vi x reader, 18+ themes!!

Vi receives a nude from you for the first time and... freaks out a little

(a/n: i haven't written anything like this before, please be gentle!!)

Vi loves the way your relationship is going. She's never taken it this slow before; her relationships in the past have all been about diving head-first, but this, with you, it feels different. She really, really likes you. She doesn't want to mess it up. And taking it slow feels good, it feels like the right thing.

She suspects she's in a bit deeper than you, afraid that it means more to her than it does for you, and so slow... yeah, that's good. Give her a bit of space, allow her to reign in the rush of feelings and want that floods her whenever she's around you.

It's new for her, not to be sure of where it's going, what's happening—but she's taking a step back, taking the cues from you. Whenever you want to take it a step further, she's more than happy to go there.

But it's also tricky, not seeing you every day when she wants to. Not being sure if you're feeling the same way. Only going on one or two dates a week, holding herself back when kissing you, afraid you'll taste the longing she can't swallow down, pull away because you don't want that. You made it very clear, you two were casual. Your relationship was supposed to be fun, and yeah—casual.

So she never mentions it, even though yeah, she wants to know if you're thinking about her, too, when you don't see each other. She wants you to be thinking about her. She wants to get little dirty texts from you, she wants to send them back. She wants to get a text and be thinking about it all day. But she respects your boundaries, and so she says nothing.

Casual is... not really how Vi feels about you.

But it's alright, she knows you haven't been treated right in the past. Been with some people who haven't been respectful, who've made it so you don't give your trust easily. And so she understands why you're hesitant about starting something serious, and she really wants to show you that she's not like the others. She would never do anything to hurt you, or make you uncomfortable.

It's a total slap in the face one morning when she's just messaged you hello like she always does and you respond... differently.

good morning love

sleep well?

She's busy pouring coffee when a moment later her phone buzzes with a new message.

Cupcake <3: Well... not so good.

Frowning, she types quickly.

oh??

Three dots appear on the screen and she waits impatiently, a little worried.

Cupcake <3: Yeah, couldn't sleep well.

Was kinda... distracted

Thinking about you

Vi stares at the last line, her heart suddenly beating hard in her chest, fast enough that her stomach clenches a little. Is this... are you doing what she thinks you're doing? For a moment she has a small panic; what if she's misinterpreted, because you two have never done anything like this before. Even your flirting is all tame, none of it overly suggestive, and what if she's got it totally wrong? What if you actually meant you were up because you were questioning the relationship. Is this you telling her you want to talk?

Now panicking in earnest, Vi glances down at her screen again where your three dots have reappeared. Wondering how to reply, she takes a sip of coffee—then promptly chokes.

Another message from you has just come through. This time, it's a photo.

A photo of you, specifically.

When Vi's finished coughing her lungs out, she grips her phone tight in both hands, staring, suddenly very certain that she was right the first time. It does not look like you're questioning the relationship.

The photo doesn't include your face, cutting off at your collarbones. Vi's gaze travels along their dip and curve, thinking of how she wants to run her tongue along that same line. You're clearly lying down in the image, rumpled sheets below your back. The lower half of the image cuts off again, just showing the elastic of your panties, and the fingers you're just slipping beneath the hem.

It's a matching set. Black lace, making the curve of your waist even sharper. Vi drinks in every pixel of the image, the way your fingers are teasing her, barely pulling the elastic of your panties as if it could snap back at any moment. She can imagine your satisfied little smile, the way your breaths would become more rapid and shallow as your hand slipped lower.

Vi lets out a shaky breath, a twinging ache of want low in her stomach. She doesn't need to move to know she's soaked her boyshorts. Pushing a hand that's trembling a little through her hair, she looks at the photo again, swallowing roughly. And shit—wait, the message is from almost ten minutes ago and she...

She has the sudden thought that you might be doing that right now, and fully just —spaces out. Gripping the counter until her knuckles are white, she closes her eyes, the picture of you blazing behind her eyelids. She thinks of the way your back would arch a little as you teased yourself, brushing a finger over your clit, bucking into your own hand. Biting your lip to stifle a moan, free hand clutching desparately at the sheets.

She still hasn't replied.

What does she even respond to something like that? Wow angel, thanks for wreaking me at eight in the morning.

Honestly, she's not really sure why this photo has... affected her so much. It's not the most explicit photo she's received from a girl, not by a long shot. Hell, some of her old hook-ups had sent full on videos and none of them had made her feel... quite like this. Shaky with the need to touch you, to have her mouth on your skin, your taste over her tongue. The desparate desire to make you hers, properly hers, someone that no one else would get to touch, to want, to have. You've barely been going out a month, and she wants it to be for always.

She's worried about leaving the message read and without a response—she doesn't want you to get the wrong impression, that it wasn't a good idea to send or worse, that she's unfazed by it.

But she just... doesn't know what to send back. In the past she's snapped responses without even thinking, quick photos of her touching herself, or maybe some at the gym, especially when she was with one girl who was particularly into her strength, but she doesn't know you well enough to know what you'd like, what would make you think of her in the way she's thinking of you—you're both still learning each other, the sex is still new. And she sort of wants...

She wants to make you feel like she does right now. She just doesn't know how.

For now she just sends a quick text, just the truth, before she can think twice about it—

fuck, angel

do you have any idea what you do to me?

—then locks her phone and religiously doesn't look at it for the rest of the day. Not that it makes a difference. Without ever opening your chat again, she's distracted. Thinking about you. Wanting you.

After work she can't take it anymore and calls Caitlyn, one of her closest friends and incidentally how you two met, as Caitlyn is also a close friend of yours.

Vi's not calling to ask for advice on nudes... but she's also not not calling to ask for advice on nudes. She and Caitlyn have been friends long enough that she's not even embarrassed about it.

"Fuck I just... I dunno what to do," she sighs. It's a little frightening, to want someone that badly, when she has no idea if you feel that strongly about her.

She's so highly strung her fingers have a tiny tremor in them even though she's only had one coffee today. Every time she thinks of that photo (which she's done approximately seven times a minute all day) her heartrate picks up, heat inching up her neck. She's pretty sure her cheeks have been flushed all day—though it's not particularly hot weather-wise.

She's wearing tight black jeans, her old pair full of rips she usually wears when tinkering on her bike, but it was a bad choice today because they're tight around her waist, and every time she bends or takes a seat the seam presses against her. Usually she doesn't notice, but now even that slight pressure is enough to have her biting back a whine as she thinks again about your long fingers curling under the lacy hem of your panties, the way you'd —

A soft laugh in her ear snaps her back to the present. Fuck, she needs to get it together.

"Okay, I'm gonna help you," says Caitlyn on the other end of the line, sounding vaguely amused. "But only because you're being a pathetic wet sock. Alright, you want her to want you?"

"Uh-huh," Vi mumbles, slumped over her counter top and staring moodily at the floor.

"Right, go into your bedroom."

"Okay..." Vi replies, pushing herself up off the counter and wandering through her small flat to her bedroom. "M'kay, I'm there."

"Open your wardrobe door," Caitlyn instructs, "the side with the long mirror. You still have that mirror, don't you?"

"Uh-huh," Vi says, pulling open the side of her wardrobe with the mirror attached. "Now what?"

"Now take off your shirt, and turn around. "

Having tossed her phone onto her bed, halfway out of her shirt Vi pauses, frowning. "Turn... around?"

There's an exasperated sigh from Caitlyn's end. "Yes, turn around. One-eighty. One-eight-zero. Turn around."

"So I'm... not facing the mirror?"

There's another sigh from Caitlyn. "Fuck, Vi, you useless lesbian. Yes, turn around so your back is to the mirror."

"My back?"

"Yep." There's a smirk in Caitlyn's voice when she adds, "Trust me, that's all you need to do to make her want you."

And well, Caitlyn's not wrong.

[avalon-of-babylon]

Okay yeah it's like 90% the All Star we know and meme but it doesn't flow as well which I argue is a big part of what makes the song work.

In this essay I will once again be over annalize the lyrics of All Star by Smash Mouth instead of getting out of bed

Let's literally start at the beginning:

The draft version looks like it would have been the singer saying "I was a dumbass but you know over the years I came to realize fuck what others think there's nothing wrong with being yourself"

The version we got however is a perfect opening to a song which is ultimately about self-actualization and genuine self-expression. "She said I was dumb and up shit creek without a paddle but from where I'm standing she's the dumb one" which when paired with:

Creates not only good momentum but a sense of action. It's literally saying "Life doesn't stop and let you figure it out so why not live your life on your terms and just be yourself. You'll never know unless you try, and you'll never be amazing unless you be yourself"

My mama said to me "Son" she said to me

But the inclusion of this disrupts that momentum by rhyming "me" with "me" and turning the focus the song just turn towards you back on themselves making the next part into a personal story which not only doesn't add to the overall theme but has the calls to action come before the affirmations.

Hey now, you're an all star Get your game on, go play Hey now, you're a rock star Get the show on, get paid And all that glitters is gold Only shooting stars break the mold

What we got however works better because it's telling the listener "you're already amazing, you just need to let yourself shine, you dont need to be like other people" instead of "my mom told me to let myself shine, I'm already amazing, I don't need to be like other people" it creates a sense of unity, one where we are all better for being ourselves and not a weird dude implying we should be like him.

It's a cold place and they say it gets colder You're bundled up now, wait 'til you get older

Back to the flow problem again by having cold instead of cool it creates this odd momentary imbalance in the rhyming by having 3 words rhymed togetherin 2 lines (cold, colder, older) instead of 2 in 2 or 4 in 2 like we see throughout the finished version by just rhyming "colder" and "older"

The ice we skate is getting pretty thin The water's getting warm so you might as well swim My world's on fire, how about yours? That's the way I like it and I never get bored

Unless the line we see is adding the second half of this verse, then the draft is worse for not having it.

Not only is including the dichotomy of hot and cold good for a song with All Star's themes, but much like an onion, it has layers (obligatory Shrek reference). Without the first two lines, the verse is only reinforcing that their way of living is more exciting. However there's a number of ways to interpret the two added lines including "the veneer of normalcy is wearing away; other people are being themselves why not join" or if you want more literal "things are going to hell; why not enjoy the ride". Either way, when paired with the second half, hot and cold take on new meanings; passion and dispersion, individually and conformity, change and stagnation, reality and fantasy, autonomy and heteronomy.

I don't know why I wrote all this, I don't even like the song that much. Maybe I got possessed by the spirit of still living high school English teacher Mrs. Pack. She would do something like spend an entire class period discussing the themes of All Star.

[hanniebaeee]

Neon Heat

Felix x fem!reader

Warnings : drinking, making out MDNI

Genre: strangers to lovers, fluff, suggestive

Summary: You are at the pub with your friends, and you're confused by the signs on the bathroom doors. But a sexy stranger helps you out, and then you go on to become more than strangers.

Ok, so this is a problem.

Your bladder is so close to bursting, the two beers you had with your friends demanding an immediate release. You don't understand how your friends have already started on the third one already. 

But now staring at the bathroom doors, you are trying to comprehend which is which. Obviously you've seen those signs before - in your biology textbooks.

But seeing it on bathroom doors? You're confused. And being tipsy isn't helping your situation either. 

One had a circle-and-line (♀️) symbol and the other had some kind of arrow sticking up (♂️).

Which was which?

Your brain tries to connect the dots through the haze of your tipsy buzz. Circle… arrow… wait, what? Who thought this was a good idea? You tilt your head, narrowing your eyes as if staring harder would magically give you clarity.

“Need some help there, love?”

The voice startles you, deep and smooth with a hint of teasing. 

You turn to see the owner of the said voice. He's tall and leaning casually against the wall with his dark hair framing his face neatly. He was dressed in all black - looking way too classy and sexy to be standing here with you. 

His brown eyes sparkle like he knows exactly what kind of effect he is having on you. And even under the dim lighting of the rest area, you can see a dusting of freckles over his skin. And it made him look even more hot somehow. 

You blink, momentarily forgetting how to function as a human being.

“Uh - what?” you stammer, trying not to look as affected as you feel.

He grins and says, “The one with the arrow sticking up? That’s the men’s room. Think of it as a…you know...easier to remember.”

His eyebrows raise suggestively as he point upwards, and then he winks.

He winks.

You blush instantly, and you could feel the heat creeping down your neck.

“Oh. Right. Arrow. Up. Got it.” You nod like an idiot, still staring at him like he’d just descended from the heavens. “Thanks for that. Um.. I gotta-”

“Of course, glad to be of help,” He says, and you bolt into the right bathroom, internally screaming because that did not just happen!!

By the time you calm yourself (and your bladder) down and get back to your table, your friends immediately notice your flustered state.

“What happened?” Jennie asks, eyes sparkling with curiosity.

“Are you ok?” Jisoo adds, leaning in conspiratorially.

You take a sip of your drink, trying to play it cool as you tell them you're just tispy. Of course the playing cool part doesn't last long because Mr. Freckles was sitting at a table right across from yours, laughing with some other (hot) guys. 

You look away quickly, and try not to glance his way after that. Also failing, because the next time you do, he's already looking at you.

Oh yes, he is. 

The night rolls on, your friends chatting and laughing, but you are only half-listening now. Because his gaze is searing, heavy with intent, and you could feel it in your core.

He looks ethereal under the neon lights and honestly, it was starting to get to you now.

At one point, he leans back in his chair, stretching lazily, and tilts his head toward the exit.

The message was clear: Meet me outside. You watch as he stands up, and walks out, your eyes following him all the way to the exit. 

Your pulse skyrockets. Is this really happening?

This isn't something you do. You don't like casual relationships or hook ups. Hell, you didn't even know his name. But there was something about him that made you want to follow him out. 

Ok, so if this is how you die, then what a pity, because you are already on your feet. 

The girls look up at you, and Jisoo, the always the sharpest says, “If you're going home with him, I'm gonna be so mad.”

“Oh my God! I won't!” You hiss, cheeks heating up. 

“Don't have too much fun!!” Jennie sings as as you make a beeline for the exit. 

The cool night air hits your face as you step out into the dimly lit garden behind the pub. It is quiet except for the muffled bass of music thumping from inside. You barely have time to wonder where he is when you spot him. 

“Thought you might leave me hanging.”  

Bathed in the soft glow of fairy lights, he looks gorgeous. His hands are shoved into his pockets, his posture relaxed, but the intensity in his eyes was anything but relaxed. It doesn't look like he is here to play around.

“I wasn’t sure if you were-” you admit, your voice quieter than you intended. “I don't do one night stands or hookups or whatever.”

“Oh, I wasn't looking for one.” He steps closer, his smile returning. “You’ve been driving me insane all night. So I wanted to know if it was just me, or if you felt it too.”

Your breath hitches as he closes the distance between you.  

“What exactly did you have in mind?” you asked, trying to sound confident (your body is betraying you in more ways than you can count right now).

“I would take you out first. You know, buy you some flowers, take you out to dinner. Talk. If you're interested, of course.”

“Oh.” Loss of vocabulary - you couldn't think of a sentence to say. 

He reaches out, his fingers brushing against yours, sending a jolt of electricity up your arm.

“In our case, I think we'll have to shuffle it up a bit…” He says, before his lips meet yours soft yet firm, and yes. You're gone. Completely. 

His hand cups your jaw, tilting your face up as he deepened the kiss. You can’t help the soft moan that escapes your lips as his tongue teases yours. 

And he responds with a low hum that vibrates against your mouth. 

The kiss turns heated quickly, his hands sliding down to grip your waist and pull you flush against him. Your fingers tangle in his hair, earning a groan from him that sends a shiver down your spine. 

“God,” he murmurs against your lips, his voice thick with desire. “You’re going to be the death of me.”  

“You started it,” you tease, your voice breathless as you nipped at his bottom lip.  

He chuckles, but it quickly turns into a sharp intake of breath as you tug him closer. His hands slip down the curve of your hips, and he presses you gently against the brick wall of the pub. 

“What's your name, sweetheart?” he whispers, his lips trailing down your jaw to your neck, leaving open-mouthed kisses that have your knees buckling. 

“Y/N,” you say, pulling him back up to your lips. “And yours?”

“Felix,”  

You lost track of time as the two of you melted into each other, the kisses getting more heated, and the feeling of his hands on your body getting more familiar.

Eventually you both pull back, panting and disheveled, and exchange soft smiles.

“So, about that dinner… does tomorrow sound good? I don't want to wait…” Felix asks, moving a strand of hair off your face.

You nod happily, and say, “Sounds perfect.”

“Good. I'll pick you up at 7?” 

“Ok,”

“And come prepared? ‘Cos I'm taking you home,” He says, his teasing grin back on again. “Maybe teach you a little about the signs…”

“Oh my God, Felix!” You laugh, and he laughs with you. 

After exchanging numbers, and one kiss too many, you two walk back to your own tables where your respective friends tease you endlessly for this. 

Jennie and Jisoo are on you for the juicy details and you give in, dying of happiness and also embarrassment - because honestly, this isn't how you pictured finding love.

As the boys start getting ready to leave, Felix glances at you, and you smile. That seems to have snapped something in him because he comes over to press a quick kiss to your cheek (making the boys go feral with laughter), and your own friends watched in amusement as you both said your goodbyes. 

“See you tomorrow,” Felix whispers. 

“See you,” You say, and watch him leave. 

And you squeal in joy making Jennie and Jisoo laugh. Because this feels great. 

Like it's meant to be. 

Divider - @saradika-graphics

Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix @sailor--sun @satosugu4l

[milkteabinniechan]

♡Tongue in Cheek - Yang Jeongin

MINORS DNI 18+ ONLY MEMBERSHIP//M.LIST

pairing: CEO jeongin x fem! reader

summary: your boss is up for a big promotion. There's just one problem, he told his boss that he's married. So he asks you to be his wife for just one night. But now this cold CEO is seeing you in a whole new light.

warnings: power dynamics, tooth-aching fluff, angst, kissing, did I mention fluff????

Jeongin slid a few papers around his desk. “Something you need?” He snapped, his tone exhausted and annoyed. His patience was wearing thin lately. You had noticed immediately, the way he moved around the office like every corner and seam of his heavy armor was starting to crack. He was stressed, he was nervous. You suppose that's why you agreed to this dinner in the first place. To help him out. That was the only reason you had agreed to be his “fake wife.”

“Sorry to bother you, Sir. But Mr. Kwon’s assistant called again to confirm that you- um, that we would be attending the dinner tomorrow evening.” You kept your eyes downcast, studying every fiber of his office carpet. A deep, intimidating red color that filled the entire room like an inferno. It's as if he wanted everyone that walked into his office to know that they were walking into Hell.

“Tell her that we'll be there at eight sharp. I want you dressed nicely. Take my card and buy yourself something expensive.” Jeongin's hand stretched out to reveal a heavy platinum credit card weaved between his fingers. You took a step forward but hesitated, your mouth parting slightly. Jeongin's eyes flashed up to you, his head still hanging down. “No arguments, just do it.”

And that was that. Because if Yang Jeongin told you to do something, then goddamn it, you better do it.

The night of the dinner was chiller than you had anticipated. The sun was going down sooner and sooner and cold air swept you up and pulled you inside of Jeongin's luxury car. It was warm inside with plush seats that hugged you better than your own mother. Was this what money could buy? You casually glanced at Jeongin's hand gripping the expensive leather of the steering wheel. He was wearing a shiny silver bracelet and a large, heavy looking ring on his middle finger. He had told you once that the ring was lucky and he would only wear it when he really, really needed it. Jeongin kept his eyes fixed on the road, focused and determined even in his driving. But soon his deep voice cut through the building tension. “Mr. Kwon is the man to impress, the man to be, the man to beat. But he is put off by the fact that I never settled down to start a family. He thinks it's abnormal for a man my age to not have someone.”

You kept your mouth closed tight. You agreed with Jeongin's boss, it was abnormal. Jeongin was young, attractive, and successful. So why hadn't he found someone? As if sensing your train of thought, he cocked his head towards you and raised an eyebrow. “It's not like I don't fuck, I just don't have time for a relationship.”

A relationship. He said that word like it was poison on his tongue. The two of you pulled into the long driveway of a sprawling manor you had only seen in magazines. The path was lined with lights and led you both to a towering front door that was painted the most intense red you had ever seen. You were starting to understand where Jeongin was getting his business inspiration. You stepped inside to see dinner already being set.

Five course meal. Five courses. There were nights when all you could afford was a cup of ramen and a few beers. This was how the other half lived. Mr. Kwon and his wife were both incredibly gorgeous. To look at them too long almost felt greedy. Mr. Kwon commented on Jeongin's cufflinks and his wife absolutely adored your dress. You found it easy to converse with her. A simple, sweet woman who meant well but was so detached from the real world that she was living in her own little fairytale. Jeongin and you had discussed a background story for how you met and what your wedding day was like in case anyone had asked. And to no one's surprise, Mrs. Kwon wanted to know every detail.

After a few glasses of champagne, you found yourself gushing about Jeongin. You spoke about his gentle demeanor when his mother or siblings call. You talked about his smell and the first time you knew you were in love with him.

Jeongin sat back in his chair and watched you. He watched you diverge from the previously discussed storyline that the two of you agreed on. He listened as you spoke honestly about your feelings and your ambitions and goals for the future. He felt a clench in his chest that he hadn't felt in years. You seemed to almost have a glow around you when you spoke. As if the roof opened up to let moonlight pour down over your entire body. And the dress you chose. Jeongin finally allowed himself a moment to admire and memorize every curve and dip of your waist and legs. He could feel his $300 slacks growing tighter by the second. Mr. Kwon stood from the table and announced that the men should adjourn to the other room for cigars and brandy. Jeongin let out a sigh of relief and quickly stood to follow the rest of the men but before he could leave you grabbed his hand and kissed his cheek. “Miss you already.” You said with a smile loud enough that the rest of the guests could hear. You gave him a quick wink before dropping his hand and returning to the dinner table.

“You got a good one there, Yang.” Mr. Kwon let out a large puff of smoke from his cigar. “Don't fuck this up. She's good for you.”

Jeongin fiddled with his own cigar, still unlit. He weaved it between his fingers. “Yes, Sir.” His mind was a million miles away. You have worked for him for three years now. He still remembers the day he hired you. The outfit you wore, the messy bun with frazzled strands of hair falling in front of your eyes. You were so nervous. But you were determined. He recognized that fire in your eyes. It was the same fire that burned inside him.

“Thank you for tonight. You were very convincing.” Jeongin had driven you back to your one bedroom apartment. You stood in the single step in front of your front door. You were actually eye-level with him now, your face just inches from his. “You're welcome. It was fun.” You confessed. You liked being a part of his world. Jeongin cleared his throat and smiled. An awkward, unsure smile that you weren't used to seeing. He gave you a polite bow and turned towards his car to leave. You felt a heaviness pull at your heart as he started to walk away. But before he got to the street he stopped. He turned on his heels to face you once again, his unsure smile now transforming into a devilish smirk. “The night isn't over. Technically, you're still my wife.” He took a few steps towards you. “Kiss me.”

The heaviness in your chest now felt like a balloon soaring high as you ran towards him without hesitation. You jumped into his arms and he held your leg with one hand and used his other arm to wrap around your waist, holding you close to him. Your lips crashed into his clumsily. Your mouths falling over each other until you slowly found a rhythm. It was the most romantic moment of your entire life and you never wanted it to stop. You kissed him over and over again. Some were slow and lingering while others were needy and impatient. You kissed him. Because if Yang Jeongin tells you to do something, then goddamn it, you better do it.

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[anastasia12]

lower your inhibitions

lower your inhibitions ; simon “ghost” riley.

You love Simon, you really do.

How could you not? How could you not fall for him? He’s the one who rescued you from a fate worse than death, the one who washes your body for you even though the both of you know that you’re fully capable of showering alone (he loves you so much, he’s constantly craving to touch you in any way he can), the one who took apart one of his honorary medals for his services and melted it down so it could be manipulated and turned into the band on your engagement ring.

(Did you know that the medal he used is the one he got from the mission where you two first met, the fateful mission where he both saved and changed your whole entire life?)

And you know that Simon would do absolutely anything for you. He whispers it to you in the dead of night, holding you so close to his chest like he’s scared you’ll disappear if he doesn’t. He lets you be the one who removes his mask, and if he can do something so intimately vulnerable, then you suppose you can do this for him.

This is giving into one of his latest fantasies, one that he’s been hinting at for quite some time now.

You know that his line of work is difficult at best and life-threatening all the time. You know that he bears a heavy burden on his shoulders — it’s not just his weaponry and equipment that weighs him down, but the fact that so many lives are resting in his hands. You do your best to relieve him of any stress when he gets home: a warm meal waiting for him, fresh clothes set out for him to change into, long nights where you spend all your time and energy determined to give him the reward he deserves for being a hero.

He mentions it in passing, usually when you’re so far gone in the throes of pleasure that you don’t even consciously acknowledge his little comments. Sneaky bastard; he’s been making sure it stays ingrained in your subconscious, though.

Baby, I could spend forever here. You’re certain that’s what he was groaning out the last time you had spread your legs for him and allowed him to eagerly lap at your pussy. You’re not entirely too sure, though — the only thing you can clearly remember through the foggy haze of intense passion was the feeling of him pleasuring you with just his mouth and bringing you to climax on his tongue at least twice that night.

You can only imagine what he must have planned for you tonight.

You’re sure that Simon has an insane amount of stamina as a result of his work. The only thing keeping you, his little soon-to-be housewife, still alive from all of these little entanglements is the fact that you love him enough to do anything he asks of you. So when he tells you that the only thing that’ll help him take his mind off of his latest assignment is to have you sitting on his face, you oblige.

According to him, this is a foolproof plan because only an idiot would be thinking about something else when he’s got the prettiest pussy in the world on top of him.

You could feel your face heating up at his vulgar compliment, but you’re not entirely innocent. The heat was building up towards the lower half of your body after that comment, too.

And now you find yourself nervously straddling your fiance, looking into his eyes.

“You know where you need to be, pretty girl,” His voice is already thick with arousal, and you recognize that hungry glint in his eyes. You pray to anyone out there who’s listening to pretty please give you the strength to survive tonight.

“B-but Simon—” You’re whispering, even though this house is the only residence in the area. (Thank God for that; if the two of you had neighbors, they surely would have filed a noise complaint.)

“Yes, my love?” You can recognize the teasing tone in his voice, and you can hear the smirk he must be wearing on his face.

“How am I supposed to… You know, get on your face and let you do what you want when your mask is still on?”

His infamous balaclava with the skull design etched onto the fabric seems to taunt you. It doesn’t scare you, especially since you’re well aware of who the man behind the mask truly is, but you can’t quite figure out why he hasn’t taken it off yet.

“Oh. I didn’t tell you yet?” He has to be smiling underneath the mask because your reaction to his next words is enough to have him chuckling.

“I’m not eating you out ‘til you’re so wet for me that I can feel you dripping through the mask.”

You immediately freeze up, wondering if he truly means what he just said.

(It’s Simon; of course, he meant every word of it.)

“Sweetheart, I thought you were going to be a good girl for me tonight.” The disapproval he douses his words with isn’t real — you know he’s just trying to tease you because it’s what he loves to do. Still, you find yourself nodding your head and slowly but surely making your way up his resting body before you find yourself hovering uncertainly above his face.

You let out an adorable little yelp of surprise as he suddenly grips the back of your thighs and forces you down on his mask-covered face. For a man his size, the strength isn’t surprising, but it’s his stealth and dexterity that always catches you off guard.

“Can’t wait to taste you.” His voice sounds muffled now due to the pressure being applied to his mouth, and you can feel the slight movements of his mouth despite the thick fabric of his balaclava acting as a barrier between you and him. His eyes are already deepening with desire, and you swallow hard, knowing that it’ll please him if you truly give it your all. You’ve known him for what feels like forever, and you’re engaged to the man. There’s no more room for shyness to take root in this relationship.

It’s time for you to lower your inhibitions.

Your first movements are a bit uncertain, but his groan of appreciation acts as reassurance. You move back and forth slowly, carefully grinding against the mask, and occasionally, your clit will brush against the covered tip of his nose, only adding to your pleasure and allowing you to give into your depravity without worry.

“Just like that, love. You’re doing so well for me.” You can barely make out the words he’s saying, but you give him a shaky smile as you continue to grind against him, your hands finding purchase on the pillow he’s resting his head on. You grip it, trying to hold yourself steady as you continue to buck against him, your arousal practically leaking out of you, a constant stream of juices that is soaking through the fabric, leaving a distinct wet stain on the front of it.

Simon grins at a mission successfully accomplished. Not only can he feel your arousal through the mask, but you’re so soaked for him that he’s certain he can taste you already, too.

One strong hand grips your waist, pausing your jerky movements, and you look down, blinking and trying to ground yourself into reality. You watch as he uses his other hand to tear off the balaclava, tossing it somewhere on the floor of your shared bedroom.

His chin and lips are already shining just the slightest — just how wet for him are you? He gives you a cheeky grin, and you’re still so close to him that when he speaks, his lips brush against your slick folds.

“Don’t stop now, darling. You promised you’d sit on my face.”

He’s so close to helping you get rid of the ache in between your legs, and you find yourself lowering yourself fully, your soft thighs encasing his head, and your soaking cunt landing right on his mouth. You’re already leaking all the way down to his chin, and his groans of pleasure only serve to make you even wetter.

He can’t speak right now; not when he’s too occupied with the meal you’ve so generously decided to grace him with. The room is filled with the obscene sounds of him lapping up everything you’re spilling out.

His tongue slides through your entrance with ease, and you moan in ecstasy, throwing your head back as you start to instinctually buck against his face, practically riding his tongue.

He’s sucking up your arousal, eager to please you but also insanely happy at the position he’s finally in. This is exactly what he needed: pure, unadulterated access to your pussy. Your thighs are surrounding him, and he uses both hands to squeeze harshly at your ass. The slight pain only makes you squeal and jerk up just the slightest, but he growls before forcing you back down on his face, right where you belong.

The ministrations of his tongue are entirely too much. The noises the two of you are making sounds as if the two of you are filming a porno, and you know you can’t last much longer.

Using both of your hands, your fingers curl into the thick locks of his hair, tugging just enough to him groan against your pussy, and you mewl out his name as you cum all over his face.

Your body feels like jelly; this isn’t the first time that Simon has fucked you boneless before, but this orgasm was intense. You think you can still feel some aftershocks of it, and you moan out weakly as you struggle to remain in your seated position on his face.

He’s still lapping everything up, his tongue still exploring every centimeter of yourself you have to offer him. After that climax, your poor pussy is feeling too sensitive, and every time he slightly moves his head, his nose continues to bump against your clit. You’re ultra-aware of every movement of his, extra susceptible to every flick of his tongue and the pleasure is only painfully heightened. You’re too weak to fight him off and while giving in will surely leave you unable to leave the bed all day tomorrow, you can’t find it in yourself to ask him to stop.

“Si-mon.” You whine out his name, but it comes out garbled and broken. Your mind doesn’t know how to react to the constant pleasure he’s inflicting on you and your sensitive little cunt. Your body, though, is eager to receive more of what he has to offer. It’s evident in the way your hole starts to clench around nothing every time he teasingly withdraws his tongue to force you to beg him for more. Even though you feel like you’re unable to move, you still find enough strength left in you to grind against him, rubbing your pussy and spreading your slick all over his face before you cum once again, this one leaving you all the more disorientated.

His visage is a sight to behold: cheeks are flushed red, eyes wild and dark with desire, the lower half of his face stained with your cum and arousal. You should be embarrassed at what a mess you’ve made of your fiance, but he only licks his lips. His eyes almost roll back as he realizes the taste of you will forever be on his tastebuds.

“Taste so good, love.” He gasps out. His hair is messy from the way you’ve shamelessly tugged at his locks. “I need more. You gonna give it to me?”

You’re nodding, but he doesn’t even wait for your affirmation before forcing you down onto his mouth once again.

He wasn’t lying when he made the claim that he could live in between your legs forever. After tonight, you know you’re never going to deny him the chance to prove it, though.

comment if you want your @ in heree

[goodlucktai]

one of the rotten ones

rottmnt word count: 2k pairing: don & leo, don & OC title borrowed from anthems for a seventeen year old by yeule part of the archer au :) read on ao3

x

“I don’t think Gio likes me,” Donnie blurts. 

He’d feel self-conscious if he was pressed to admit it anywhere else, but he’s in the infirmary, and the only one around to hear him say so is his twin. 

They’re moving into hour two of Leo’s “faves” playlist and the fourth consecutive Taylor Swift song even though he swore he put it on shuffle. Leo is going through cabinets and shelves systematically, updating inventory on his phone, while Donnie infodumps about energy storage and projectile dynamics and the breaking strength of crossbow string. 

Donatello’s base knowledge of this particular ranged weapon is severely lacking, which is a significant personal problem for him now that he has a sibling with a preference for archery. He needs to be the world’s leading expert on the subject yesterday. He has half a dozen half-formed plans for things like sonar bolts for 3-D mapping, which may or may not have been inspired by the Jupiter Jim Pluto Vacation run.   

Only every glance at the project folder simply labeled ‘G-01’ causes an uncomfortable feeling to squirm to life in his stomach, not unlike the Krang tentacles that had attached themselves to his carapace on the day the world didn’t end. 

Donnie isn’t good at people. He doesn’t know how they tick, and there are no reliable lines of code or handy user manuals that he can fall back on when he’s mystified by human behavior. 

His siblings don’t have the same problem. Leo is perceptive to a degree that borders upon clairvoyance, Mikey is the single-most emotionally intelligent member of their family, Raph is more charming than he gets credit for, and April can talk her way through any closed door, police tape or VIP-only entrance. None of them fumble the way Donnie does when a social interaction goes off-script, like it’s a volleyball that got served his way without the ample warning he needs to be anything approaching passable at the sport. 

But he knows he’s not imagining it—the way Gio seems to brace himself when Donnie comes into the room, like he’s expecting a confrontation every time. Like the last thing Donatello could want with him is something good. 

Donnie can be a lot. They all can. They come by it honestly, equal parts chaotic lab experiments and their father’s sons. And not every structure is built to withstand hurricane winds. Not every person is equipped to deal with a Hamato level weather event. 

But he has never seen Gio flinch away from anyone else. 

So he did what he always did when confronted by something outside his formidable repertoire—he took it to Leo. 

There had never in Donnie’s life been a problem that couldn’t be made into their problem. It came with twin territory. 

And Donnie’s twin in particular is good at translating Donatello and translating other people for Donatello, and jumps on any chance to be helpful and feel wanted, and absolutely loves problems. It’s one of the most annoying and endearing things about him. If there is any trouble within a hundred miles, Leo will find it. He will worm his way into the center of it and then puzzle his way out from the inside. Most other clever and curious people were satisfied by the daily Wordle; Leo would chew through a wall unless he had something more hands-on to occupy his mind with. As polar-opposite as the two of them could be in, in that regard, they were one and the same. 

It’s somewhat reassuring to Donnie that Leo’s immediate reaction is plain incredulity. He looks baffled, like Donnie has just started throwing stuff around the room for no reason. 

(He knows better. In the medbay, of all places, that would be a death wish. Leo runs a tight ship here and only here.)

“Sorry, you don’t think Gio likes you?” Leo says slowly. “Our Gio? The guy who let you infodump about the mycelial networks of fungi to him for almost two hours, all because Mikey mentioned he was making mushroom stir-fry for dinner?” 

Donnie scoffs, but he can’t help but feel warmed by the reminder. Gio had settled right in, the way he always did once he was sure of his welcome, and watched Donnie talk like nothing more interesting existed on this side of the equator.

“His eyes didn’t even glaze over,” Leo goes on, doing what he always does and pressing the advantage. “That’s a new personal best in this family. Even April started looking for a window to climb out of at the thirty minute mark.”

“There was bound to be at least one other mutant turtle in the New York metropolitan area with an appreciation for botany,” Donnie says imperiously, tilting his chin up. 

But the worry is still there, firmly rooted, trying to flower. Leo must be able to tell because his frown deepens, playfulness evaporating by the second. He pauses the music and sets his phone down. The room rings in the sudden silence, but it’s not uncomfortable, because it’s a room Donnie exists in with his twin. 

“I just want him to like me,” Donnie says. It’s a childish want, it makes him feel half his age, but it’s true. 

He was never one of those human kids lingering near the playground, on the edge of the classroom, desperate to fit in. He was never on the outs because he never had the chance to be. But this is probably what that would have felt like. 

Giorgio is quiet by default, absorbing everything with dark brown eyes, always pausing to think before speaking in a low, flat register that is becoming as familiar to Donnie as Raph’s comforting rumbles and Mikey’s energetic shrieks and Leo’s sweet or sly laughter. 

He hasn’t been anything but kind since he got here. He saved Leo, brought him home from a place it should have been impossible to come home from, so Donatello would put up with any manner of assholery from that quarter in exchange—but it’s not that at all. 

Once Gio’s initial guard goes up and then comes down, once they outlive that moment of consideration that verges upon scrutiny without ever crossing the line, the eldest turtle softens for any younger one like clockwork. He indulges whatever noise or nonsense they’ve brought with them like there is no better use of his time. 

It doesn’t seem like a lie. But Donnie is the least qualified person he knows to make that judgement call. 

There’s a lot at stake if he’s wrong, is all. 

Leo looks like Donnie has taken a melon baller to his insides just for fun. 

“I’d know if he didn’t like you,” Leo says with absolute certainty. And he probably would. And he would take it so personally. He wouldn’t let Gio know a single moment’s rest until the spotted turtle had a coming-to-Jesus moment and acknowledged his wrongdoings in canceled Youtuber apology video format. 

Since that isn’t the reality they live in—and Leo’s daily relentless pestering of Gio is harmless and little-sibling-shaped and decidedly not mean-spirited by any stretch of the imagination—some small part of the tight, unhappy feeling in Donnie’s heart has no choice but to accept that as the compelling argument it is. 

“He probably misses you, Tello,” Leo adds, something softening in his face that it hurts to look directly at. “His you, I mean. I know I would be a train wreck cosplaying as a person if I had to go someplace I’d never see you again. Can you imagine how screwed-up I’d be?”

Donnie’s whole soul shudders at the idea, at the nightmare that almost came true when the portal closed around the Technodrome and as good as severed Donnie clean down the middle. At the glimpse of a life he’d be forced to live with one leg, one lung, one arm, one eye, half a heart. 

“That’ll never happen,” he says, a little too loud. 

“You’re stuck with me,” Leo agrees. He means it, Donnie can tell—even after that almost-nightmare he put his family through, he means it. It’s one thing to take the nuclear option at the actual on-paper end of the world, it’s another to sit in a safe, warmly-lit room with his twin brother and try to conceive of an existence in which their dynamic duo was whittled down to a solo act. 

When they were little, Donnie once tried to explain how big the unobservable universe was. He told Leo that light from the big bang hadn’t reached Earth from all the way over there yet. It was a concept he struggled with as a child, that something could be so unknowable and immeasurable.

“That’s how big my ‘I love you’ is,” he said, all of seven years old and putting it into words the best way he knew how.

“I love you bigger than that,” Leo said promptly. 

“Ugh, you can’t,” Donnie said, frustrated at his twin for always trying to one-up him, for not understanding the huge thing Donnie was trying to compress and fit into his hands. “It’s not possible.”

“It is,” Leo said firmly, eyes gold to match Donnie’s, warm and shining in a way that was all his own. “I do.”

And then Leo went on to prove it. In a way Donnie never would have wanted him to—in an explosion that split the sky and left flash burns in their eyes, and the hollow pain of a surgical removal as the still-beating heart of their family was cut away, and the discordant electronic fuzz where a beloved voice had been rushing through last words, replaced by the sound of a radio without a signal, a device unpaired—but he proved it in a thousand other ways, too. 

He was even proving it now, this afternoon he spent leaning on a forearm crutch and ambling around to various shelves and cabinets to keep up with his stock of medical supplies that had been severely depleted in the weeks after the invasion. Leo had carried bandaids and lidocaine spray in a tiny tote bag since he was two feet tall. He couldn’t stop bad things from happening but he could try to make the bad things better. 

He’s looking at Donnie like he would right every wrong for him if he knew where to start. Like the unobservable universe was small enough to fit in his pocket compared to the lengths Leonardo would go for Donatello. 

Leo is the younger twin, but sometimes the only thing there is for Donnie to do is shuffle over and bonk their foreheads together and believe him. 

“If Gigi hated you, he wouldn’t be a Hamato,” Leo announces, muffled and silly and entirely correct. “It’s a required qualification. You must have missed that meeting with HR.” And then, because it’s important, he whispers, “I promise, okay?”

“Okay,” Donnie whispers back. 

At about that moment, TSwift’s I Think He Knows comes on, proving once and for all that there is actually no way Leo’s playlist is on shuffle. The weighted moment they’re holding on tight to transitions into a lighter one that gets flung haphazardly around as an immediate life-or-death struggle for the phone ensues. 

Stalemate is only reached when Splinter barges in to read them the riot act for daring to roughhouse while they had a non-zero number of broken bones between the two of them. Leo is bright-eyed with mischief and already fast-talking their way out of trouble the same effortless way April can rattle off her brothers’ favorite coffee orders, and Donnie’s worry has been soundly evicted, all its belongings in boxes in the yard. 

Sitting around has never been his style. He’s a turtle of discovery and invention. And now that he’s been reassured that the absolute worst-case scenario is not on the table—that it, in fact, was never on the table to begin with—curiosity rears its head and snaps up the dregs of anxiety like a hungry wolfhound who mistook it for an unattended rack of lamb. 

Hypothesis: Georgie isn’t being weird out of dislike of Donatello. Leo’s certain he’s not, so certain that he was willing to promise, point-blank and absolute, instead of being tricky and sly in the name of cheering Donnie up instead. Leo even offered a much more palatable alternative, but further evidentiary support is required. 

So after dinner a week later, as the whole family crowds comfortably around the banana split bar spilling across the entire kitchen island and argues over which toppings Gio and Casey should stack their bowls with first, Donnie blurts, “Can I see your crossbow?”

Giorgio really is one of the clowns in this circus. He proves it by putting his ice cream down, and picking the bow up from where it was relegated to the bench seat where everyone tosses their coats and shoes when they get home, and passing it right over. No normal person would put a loaded weapon in Donnie’s hands just because he asked nicely. 

As if in tacit agreement, both of Casey’s eyebrows shoot toward his hairline and Raph makes incredulous scoffing noises. April says, “You did not just—” at the same time Splinter blusters, “Purple, you fire that thing off in this house even once and I am grounding you from everything you know and love, including Orange!” and Donnie screeches, over Mikey and Leo’s hysterical laughter, “I can be trusted with projectile weaponry!”

The crossbow has been carefully maintained, but it hasn’t been used in weeks that Donnie is aware of. They’ve all stuck pretty close to home since the invasion, and it’s not like Gio knows anyone but them—it’s not like they need firepower for grocery hauls or pizza runs, though, knowing their luck, that could change any given day. 

But Gio still cleans it regularly, and he’s become a familiar sight at the kitchen table; parts spread out on an oil-stained rag, meticulous and methodical with the one belonging he brought here with him from the future other than the clothes on his back and the colorful friendship bracelet on his right wrist. 

It’s important to him, clearly, but he’s letting Donnie handle it with an indulgent look on his face. Like there are no better hands to leave it in than his little brother’s. 

Because he’s at risk of having a whole emotion about that out loud, where his entire family is assembled to witness it, Donnie quickly turns his mind onto the much safer road of gadgetry.  

He has never actually held a crossbow before, has never built or used one, but he’s been doing a lot of research. He has a lot of ideas. He wants to print mechanical broadhead arrows with explosive tips, or tear gas canisters, or EMP charges. It’s a brand new world of creative chaos and that’s not even touching all the build customizations Donnie has in mind. His fingers are already itching to dismantle and reassemble the machine into something better, something that won’t ever fail, something his big brother will love. 

Only—huh. What feels like a low-level electric current thrums to quiet life like it was waiting to be noticed by the right pair of eyes, just enough of a static shock to get his attention and guide his hand to the rail. Glowing purple does the work of an allen wrench in seconds and a handful of screws clatter to the table. Donnie removes the scope in one sure motion, and moves on to snap the rail from the stock. 

Raph says, low and warning, “Donnie,” intimately familiar with gremlin gadget mode and all the kitchen appliances and shared toys destroyed in Donnie’s early years in the name of science. But he’s not breaking this time, he’s just looking. 

He flips the rail over in his hands and finds the source of that odd electricity-conductive feeling. Hidden on the underside is a small embossed logo that Donnie would recognize anywhere, because it’s his.

“A-ha!” he says, absurdly pleased with the discovery. “A Genius Built mod.” 

The rail was one of the first things he’d had in mind to upgrade, but it looks like he’d beaten himself to the punch. 

“With a custom rail, we can add whatever attachments we want to the stock, way beyond just an average scope or a rangefinder,” Donnie says eagerly, his mind darting ahead in three different directions at once. “The world is our oyster, Georgie!” 

He can’t help grinning. His logo on Gio’s prized possession is that last little bit of evidence he needed. He’s never been happier to be wrong, and will endure Leo’s smugness for an unheard of two entire business days before initiating retaliation. 

No version of Donatello would put that mark on anything unless he really cared about it. 

And Gio wouldn’t lift the rail from Donnie’s hands, and touch his thumb to that stylized “D” as if to prove to himself that it was real, an expression of painful wistful longing on his face, unless he really cared, too. 

[dailynnt]

FRIENDS WITHIN TOUCHING DISTANCE

⊹ Summary: Jungkook and you, his childhood friend, live together in an apartment, sharing space as roommates. Your relationship, built on years of friendship, is gradually becoming strained by growing sexual tension. You decide to become friends with benefits, trying not to complicate your feelings. But Jungkook's world is not so simple. When you begin to realize that he is hiding something, you open the veil of his double life - a world of mafia, criminal activity, and risk that could ruin not only your deal, but everything you valued in each other.

⊹ Couple: Jeon Jungkook/ Fem!Reader

⊹ Characters: The Reader, Jeon Jungkook, Park Jimin, Kim Taehyung, Min Yoongi, Kim Seokjin, Kim Namjoon, Jeon Hoseok.

⊹ 🔞 Age restrictions: 18+

⊹ 👩🏼‍❤��‍👨🏻 Relationships: ⚤

⊹ Number of part: 19/?

⊹ 🖇️ Tags: best friends, friends with benefits, slow longing, sexual tension, protected sex, unprotected sex, alcohol, drunken sex, inexperienced main character, mafia au, illegal trade, deaths of minor characters, weapons, swear words.

⊹ 👩🏼‍💻From the author: Guys thank you for being with me and loving this story so much. I wrote part 19 and for some reason the second half of it was so hard for me. Read with pleasure and tell me how you like it, it is so valuable to me ❤️‍🔥🙏🏻

⊹ 🫂Dedication: For you, my love @myjungkookthighs. You are my favorite person 😘🥰 You know that I appreciate you so much and love you🥰💜 Bright times will come and you will be happy, my love 🥺💜

⊹ ⚠️ Warning: English is not my native language, so there may be mistakes in the text. Please don't get mad at me too much! Those under 18, please don't read this story!

⊹ 📋Tag list: @myjungkookthighs, @notsevenwithyou, @nikkinikj, @lovelyyylunaa222, @jiminiemanura, @jalexad, @kelsyx33, @bhonbhon, @unholyforjk (If anyone wants to be in my tag list let me know)

≣ Chapter Index ↓

Part 19. Kidnapped under the glow of fireworks.

The sound of the xylophone announced an incoming call. You dropped what you were doing in front of the mirror and almost ran to the couch where your phone was lying. The screen showed a photo of Jungkook with the caption "🐰 Jungkook". You pressed the green button.

"Hello?" - You answered.

"Baby, are you ready? I'm on my way." - You hear on the other end of the line. Jungkook was supposed to pick you up at 10 p.m. to take you to a party to celebrate the opening of a new club in Itaewon that Jimin will be running. It would also was a New Year party. So Jungkook didn't lie to your parents, and it turns out that you two were indeed invited to the opening of the nightclub.

You had to wait until Jungkook came to pick you up, because about an hour ago he told you, (alredy was dressed for a party) that he had to be away for an hour, and that you should get dressed and wait for him. He was not a minute late, and you look at your watch and realize that the hour passed quickly and you barely had time to get ready.

"I'm ready, I'm putting on my coat and coming to you." - You say affectionately. You hear his gentle "waiting" in the phone and go to the front door.

Today you are wearing a dark green satin dress with an asymmetrical hem and a neckline that reveals your thigh too high. The dress has a beautiful low neckline that emphasizes your sexuality without making you look vulgar, and thin straps that add to your fragility.

On your feet you put on exquisite gold high-heeled shoes. You put on nylon stockings instead of uncomfortable tights. The image is completed by gold jewelry and hair gathered in a beautiful bun.

The makeup is simple with an emphasis on the eyes. Long black arrows against a background of subtle golden shadows and lips of warm brown with a slight reddish tint.

You didn't dress very wintery, but this is the dress you dreamed of wearing for a similar holiday. You throw the coat over your shoulders and for some reason you hear Jungkook's voice in your head, protesting that you dressed too lightly.

You leave the house and immediately see Jungkook's Mercedes. It's cold outside, so you hurry to get into the car to stay warm. The side windows of the car are tinted, so you don't immediately see that Jungkook is on the phone. When you get inside, you give your boyfriend a smile and see that he doesn't take his eyes off you. You're flattered by this look of admiration.

"I'll be in Itaewon in 20 minutes. Are you there yet?" - You hear him talking to someone on the phone. He's probably talking to Jimin.

"Yes, I’m on place. Hoseok and Taehyung aren't here yet. By the way, Yoongi-hyun just arrived." - Jimin's voice is distorted by the cell phone. This confirms your guess.

"Yoongi-hyun? Does he go to these kinds of parties?" - Jungkook asks, still staring at you. His gaze runs over your face, down to your figure, and finally stops at your gold shoes.

"Usually not, but he did me the honor of not refusing the invitation. Now he's in the VIP lounge, where all of us will be celebrating. Have you picked up the Y/N yet?" - Jimin asks.

"Yes. We're on our way." - Jungkook replies, although you are still standing outside your house. You raise your eyebrows in surprise as Jungkook approaches you, ready to kiss you.

"I'm waiting, buddy." - Jimin says and hangs up the phone. Jungkook immediately touches your lips, just pressing his lips to yours. Although you were about to fight back, stopping him with your hands. Your kiss lasted for a few seconds and Jungkook pulled away.

"Baby, you are divine. Are you making me feel nervous again? I'm going to be jealous of every glimpse who lines on you." - He says seriously. You smile broadly, stretching your lips and drawing Jungkook's attention to them again.

"You know I don't need anyone but you. Then you shouldn't worry about anyone. They don't stand a chance against you." - You say using a flirtatious voice. Jungkook smiles, pleased with your words, which calm his jealousy.

"I want to wipe off your lipstick, can you put on lipstick again after?" - Jungkook asks, intending to capture your lips. You stop him in time, putting your hands on your chest.

"No. If you wipe off my lipstick now, it will ruin my makeup. Let's do it a little later. Let me wear my makeup for at least the first hour." - You ask. Jungkook doesn't listen. He overpowers your arms and connects your lips. This kiss lasts also not long, no more than a second.

"Your lips are so luscious with this lipstick. You only have an hour, and then I'll definitely wipe it off." - Jungkook sits up straight, leaving you in peace, but for not a long moment at this night, and then he starts to drive off, pressing the gas pedal.

You're almost at the entrance to Itaewon. You check your friends' New Year's greeting texts and suddenly an unfamiliar number pops up. In the push notification, you can see the beginning of a phrase:

"Candy, take care. There will be a lot of people connected to the mafia at the party..."

Then the text message breaks off and you either have to go read it or click on the message for a long time to see it in full. You immediately erase it from push notifications so that Jungkook doesn't see it by accident. Doohoon knows where you'll be. He hasn't stopped following you, justifying it as "caring". However, it looks like stalking, without exaggeration.

You wanted to tell Jungkook right away when you met Doohoon in the parking lot of your building a couple of days ago. But that night, Jungkook came home late and was in a bad mood. He was tired and irritated. You knew it had something to do with the meeting with Namjoon. You didn't ask for details, but Jungkook just said that everything was fine and you shouldn't worry about anything.

You thought that if Jungkook wanted to, he would tell you everything himself. If you had told Jungkook that day about Doohoon, he would have been angry and no one knows what he would have done. Of course you'll tell Jungkook, but after the new year. You didn't want to spoil the already barely noticeable holiday mood.

You arrive in one of the most upscale neighborhoods in Itaewon, where the new Jimin’s nightclub is located on a wide street lit up with neon signs and colorful garlands. The huge doors of the club, decorated with the elegant ‘MUSE’ logo with delicate black marble details, led to a real gem of the city's nightlife. At the entrance, you noticed guests in luxurious outfits.

Jungkook helped you out of the Mercedes and you headed for the entrance. Jungkook, dressed in a black fitted suit with a silk shirt and no tie, exuded confidence and low-key charisma.

When you entered the club, you were greeted by a luxurious hall with high ceilings, crystal chandeliers, and modern design. In the center was a large illuminated dance floor, and around the perimeter were VIP areas, fenced off from the main hall by translucent curtains. The bar shone with golden details, and the aroma of exotic cocktails was in the air. The music, chosen by Jimin himself, was loud and rhythmic, setting the tone for the party.

You were a little nervous, because the party definitely brought together many influential guests - obviously familiar with the mafia world, who exchanged glances and gestures, understanding each other without words. In the crowd, one could see wealthy businessmen and women dressed in designer dresses that shone like diamonds.

Jimin appeared to greet you. His image was spectacular: an exquisite suit with bright accents that emphasized his confidence. When he saw you, he immediately opened his arms to you. You, in turn, surprisingly forgot who Jimin really was and hugged him like a good friend who was nice and caring to you.

"I am glad to see you. Take off your clothes and go to VIP area number one." - Jimin said.

Jungkook led you to the cloakroom, which was off to the side of the main hall. He helped you take off your coat and took your clothes to a woman who was sitting there to receive your clothes. Jungkook was only wearing a suit and it looked like his coat was left in the car.

You didn't notice the appraising gaze of your boyfriend, who was looking at you, studying your image. You took a few steps away, nervously fiddling with your green handbag. You smoothed down your dress with your hand and straightened your curls. The warmth of Jungkook's body, which was pressed against your back, almost made you screaming. His large tattooed hand rested on your stomach, and his lips touched your ear.

"Baby, is it legal to be this sexy at a New Year's party?" - You hear the vibration of Jungkook's voice.

"What are you doing, people can see us!" - You protested quietly, trying to move away.

"I'm not sure that in an hour you'll just be without lipstick. I would do other things to you." - He whispers in your ear. A wave of warmth runs through your body. He's not should’ve to seduce you right before the party starts. You need to calm his heat. It's only been two days without sex, and he's so impatient.

"You should wait until we get home. That'll give you an excuse not to be so long, right?" - You suggest. Jungkook purrs in your ear in affirmation. He gives you a quick kiss on the shoulder and finally lets go.

VIP area #1 at Jimin’s Club was a true embodiment of luxury and elegance. You tensed up feeling the pathos of this place, just like you did at Niseko's during the Christmas party.

Located on an elevation with a panoramic view of the dance floor, it was isolated from the main hall by a tinted glass partition, creating an atmosphere of privacy. Inside, there were soft semicircular sofas made of emerald velvet, which surrounded small tables made of black marble with gold inlays. An elegant crystal chandelier hung above the area, illuminated by neon, adding soft, cozy light to the space.

Tall ficuses in stylish black vases stood in the corners of the room, and there were interactive LED panels on the walls that showed exciting abstract patterns, changing colors depending on the rhythm of the music. Each table was equipped with a button to call a personal waiter, and special soundproofing allowed people to talk quietly without shouting over the music.

There were many people in the hall who were obviously important guests of Jimin. It seems that they were not only "businessmen" or influential people, but also idols and actors, most likely to attract more attention to the new place.

You saw Jin, Hoseok, Taehyung, and Jimin in the hall, talking about something cheerfully and animatedly. Jungkook put his arm around your waist and you felt calm, feeling him so close.

Walking in the direction of these people, you unconsciously repeated everything you knew about them. You saw these people in a new way now and had to behave naturally. They are all close to Namjoon. They are some of the most powerful people in the Korean underworld. Why are you among them?

You look at Jungkook and see that he is calm. Does he trust these people so much that he's not afraid to bring you here? You reassure yourself that no matter what happens to you, Jungkook is there to protect you.

"How did you get here faster than us?" - Jungkook asks with a smile on his lips. You also pull your lips into a smile and greet the guys. "I thought because of the traffic in Gangnam, you guys would arrive at the chimes." - Jin, Hoseok, and Taehyung greet you warmly and they take turns hugging you. You are a little confused. Taehyung is the only one you know well, so his hug is the only one that feels good.

"You look amazing." - He says, emphasizing this with a slight nod. You shyly touched your ear in thanks. Jungkook gave Taehyung a murderous look and Taehyung laugh, annoying his friend.

You all went to a table with several people. Among them, a short man caught your attention the most. He was reserved and looked bored, almost apathetic. When everyone approached the table, they took turns greeting the man. Jungkook shook the man's hand and bowed slightly. The man, as if he were his older brother, clapped him on the shoulder in a friendly manner.

When your eyes met, you unconsciously took half a step back. His calm and cold look gave you the feeling that he could see right through everyone standing in front of him. His sharp features were impenetrable, but his eyes hid something dark and almost dangerous.

You felt insecure, as if you were under a microscope. Your intuition told you that you were looking at a person who could read others as easily as they read a book. You looked down away from him for a long moment to hide your nervousness, but you felt your shoulders tense under an invisible pressure.

Jimin smiled and gestured to you, introducing you when Jungkook finally stepped away from the elder Hyun. It was none other than Min Yoongi. And you knew it before Jimin even said his name.

"Yoongi-hyun, this is Y/N. She's a good friend of ours, and Jungkook's best friend. She's his couple for tonight." - Jimin introduced you. His eyes are curious, but no emotion is reflected on his face.

"Nice to meet you." - He said dryly but politely, nodding.

"Likewise." - You say with a slight smile on your lips to hide your tension.

Yoongi looked at Jungkook, who was standing next to you, and a faint smile flashed across his eyes. He seemed to appreciate you as something valuable that mattered to Jungkook.

"Interesting," - He suddenly said. No one reacted to this because you were the only one who heard it. He went back to talking to one of the other guests, you, Jungkook, Taehyung, and Jimin went to the next table. Hoseok, who was supposed to be at your table, said that you'd join him in a few minutes.

The party at the club was a real extravaganza. Itaewon, known for its nightlife, was witnessing something special this time: Jimin's new establishment became an epicenter of luxury intertwined with something modern and youthful. Music vibrated through the walls. There were so many guests that every area of the club, even the VIP rooms, were overcrowded. But at the same time, everything remained surprisingly organized.

By midnight, Jimin stepped onto a small elevated podium near the main dance floor. He held a glass of champagne in his hand, and his smile shone like a reflection of bright New Year's fireworks.

"I'm glad you're all here tonight!" - He began, his voice clear and full of emotion. "We are finally in Itevon. This club is my personal creation, so please give it a lot of love. Let's celebrate this year together and make it unforgettable!" - The audience burst into applause, and Jimin raised his glass. "To the new year and a new beginning!".

At midnight, everyone was simultaneously counting down the last seconds to the New Year. 10... 9... 8... You squeezed Jungkook's hand, smiling and trying not to think about how magical this moment was. 3... 2... 1... The guests shouted "Happy New Year!" and confetti sprayed in the air, and glasses filled with sparkling champagne.

It was already past one in the morning. You drank the champagne without even realizing how strong it was. The drink had a delicate fruity aroma and a smooth taste that hid its power. Four glasses later, and in the hot atmosphere around you, your cheeks turned pink and your eyes shone.

You chatted with Taehyung and Hoseok, who seemed to be on a mission to entertain you. You talked a lot and you laughed almost constantly. They did whatever made you feel good.

After a while, you realized that Jungkook was not participating in the conversation. You smiled as you noticed him quietly drinking whiskey, sitting next to you on the couch, silently watching the crowd.

"You're too serious for a New Year's party." - You whisper playfully, leaning into Jungkook's ear. The surprisingly strong champagne allowed you to finally relax and forget about the people around you. Jungkook smiled at your tone.

"The most important, that you have fun, my baby." - Jungkook whispered in your ear.

"You should have fun too." - You said without leaning into Jungkook. You suddenly jumped up and held out your hand to him. "Let's go to the main dance floor, I want to dance." - You said a little loudly. He looked at your hand and then grabbed it, standing up. At that moment, Jimin came to your table.

"Where are you going?" - He asked, smiling slyly. You didn't catch this gesture, unlike Jungkook, who looked at his friend sideways.

"We're going dancing." - You said, pulling Jungkook's hand. Jimin winked at Jungkook. He winked back, to his friend's surprise. Jimin raised his eyebrows in surprise as he sat down next to Taehyung.

"They're going to fuck tonight. Telling you." - Jimin said to Hoseok and Taehyung, who were watching you and Jungkook.

"They've been doing it for a while." - Taehyung says, finishing his whiskey. Jimin turns an incredulous look to Taehyung.

"What do you mean? Did he tell you?" - Jimin asks. Does Jungkook tell Taehyung first, but didn’t tell Jimin anything?

"No, he didn't. But I don't need his confirmation. They live together, they provably fuck. Don't you see the way he looks at her?" - Taehyung asks as if it were obvious. Jimin nods.

"You know they live together?" - Jimin wonders how Taehyung knows.

"I saw their text messages by accident before I we visited Niseko. She was asking him to buy some groceries or something. He didn't notice that I was there. And also she blurted it out when we were sitting in a restaurant." - Taehyung answered. Jimin nodded, savoring the whiskey, but his mind was far away.

He wondered why Jungkook was hiding the relationship from all of them. It's obvious that you're together. Doesn't he trust them? Especially him? Jimin had always been used to Jungkook sharing everything with him. He knew about all his girlfriends, every relationship, from the moment they met. They had grown to be close friends.

But you... you're the one Jungkook is so desperately protective of, not admitting to your relationship, that it can only mean one thing. You are special to him. Now Jimin knew exactly who Jungkook's real Achilles' heel was.

On the way to the dance floor, you asked Jungkook to hide your phone so that it wouldn't get in the way of your hands. He kindly agreed, putting it in one of his pockets.

There was energetic electronic music playing on the dance floor, and the crowd seemed to be in complete ecstasy. You were moving to the beat of the music, forgetting everything around you. Your movements were light, graceful, but at the same time relaxed, thanks to the champagne that gave you courage.

Jungkook stood next to you, watching you at first, but then, succumbing to the atmosphere, he allowed himself to relax. He took you by the waist and pulled you closer so that your dance was synchronized. You felt the warmth of his body through the satin dress. His hands were on your hips, on your back, on your arms. You easily lost yourselves among the people so that no one could see how close you were to each other.

You turned your back on Jungkook and started rubbing against his crotch, feeling a wave of excitement from your closeness. You wanted to seduce your boyfriend. You wanted to get him hot so that he could fuck you good at home.

Moving your ass against his crotch, you felt his hardness after a while. Jungkook's hands were holding your waist, but suddenly his hand slid down to your throat. He gently, very gently pulled your body as close to him as possible. His lips touched your ear.

"Do you want me to walk around with a hard-on for the rest of the evening? Or do you have other plans?" - He asked. The huskiness of his voice makes you feel a current running through your body. You laugh.

"I'm just dancing next to you." - You say in your defense. Jungkook moves his hand down to your bare thigh, and your skin literally burns in that spot.

"That sweet ass makes my cock hard in seconds. You know that. And don't say you weren't going to seduce me." - He says in your ear. His breath is scorching. Your cheeks burn as much as your desire for Jungkook to fuck you now.

"Looks like I've been found out." - You say, turning to face him. You're as close as you can get. Jungkook smiles stiffly. "We're going home soon anyway. How about we spend this time enjoying ourselves?" - You ask, quickly pressing your lips to Jungkook's.

His grip on your hips tightens. You move in time to the music, and Jungkook's cock thrusts against your buttocks. He seems very excited.

"I can't wait, when we to go home. So we're going to the toilet." - This is the last thing you hear against your cheek. Without waiting for you to answer, Jungkook grabs your hand and you walk through the crowd.

You find yourself in a restroom. It seems to belong to the VIP zone, because it is quiet and there is no one here. There are three large stalls. Jungkook leads you to the farthest one and locks the door.

He pounces on your lips, so fast that you don't have time to recover. Jungkook presses you against the wall of the toilet, so you can feel the contrast. The cold wall cools your hot body, and Jungkook turns up the heat with his hands all over your body and tongue kisses that make you soaked.

Jungkook moves to your neck when your lungs need oxygen. He leaves wet marks on your neck and jaw and you get even more excited. His hand slides between your legs, into the perfect slit at your thigh. He pulls the thong aside and touches your folds. Jungkook pulls away from your neck and breathes heavily on your lips, and you open your mouth in pleasure, feeling his fingers rubbing the moisture and caressing your erect clit.

"You're so wet for me, baby." - He says against your lips. You bite down on them to hold back your moans. His hot, whiskey-scented breath is intoxicating. He plunges two fingers into your hole and pumps. It's hard for you to breathe. You want to release your feelings through a loud moan, but you hold yourself back as best you can.

You want to feel Jungkook inside you, because stretching with your fingers isn't enough for you. Without warning, Jungkook takes his fingers out of you. He raises his hand to your face and runs your own arousal down your nose, along the curve of your cheek, then presses his middle and ring fingers against the pad of your lips.

Your lips open unconsciously, and he slides his fingers inside, making you swallow your own arousal. He bursts in with a force and control that drives you crazy. He presses down on your tongue, then wraps his fingers around it, rolling and smearing your arousal.

"I have to eat you, because you're just flowing." - Jungkook says and is already on his knees.

He moves your skirt, lifts it up slightly, and you grab it to help him hold it up. Jungkook pulls your thong off, and it falls around your ankles, catching on the clasp of your heels on one side.

Jungkook throws your leg over his shoulder, freeing your legs from the underwear so he can have perfect access to your juicy pussy. You grab his hair as you feel his wet tongue on your clit.

"Fuck." - You exhale, enjoying the movements of Jungkook's skillful tongue. He licks your folds from the bottom to the top, right down to your slit, making you shudder. As you tremble, Jungkook flicks his tongue over your clit. One. Two. Then he sucks on it and plays with it. You literally lose your head over Jungkook's oral sex skills.

You'll feel Jungkook plunging his fingers into you again. He eats you and stretches you at the same time to have a good way to stretch you with his big cock after you cum on his tongue.

Still pushing his fingers inside you, Jungkook pulls away from your sensitive bud and starts to bite the skin around it, then he swipes his tongue.

Your hips jerk, your sighs and moans mix and echo in the air, and you think you should be quiet, but you absolutely can't. Jungkook has never eaten your pussy so passionately and with such a taste.

He's picking up the pace. When he senses that you're about to come, he sucks in and you can feel your clit trembling on his tongue. He releases it and flicks his tongue several times, prolonging your orgasm as much as possible. You moan out loud. Because fuck, it's amazing.

You look down and meet Jungkook's smile. His lips and chin are glistening with your juice. He stands up, wiping his face at the same time, and gets too close. Jungkook immediately captures your lips in a passionate kiss, giving you a second taste of himself, only this time on his tongue.

You are falling apart from the passion between you. It's so dirty and sexy that you want to be fucked by your boyfriend like the last whore.

"Fuck me." - You ask when your lips are barely parted.

"You're so needy for me, you want me to fuck you now. What about waiting until we get home?" - Jungkook teased you. He was already unbuckling his leather belt and you were eagerly helping him. You didn't listen to what he was saying because you knew he was going to fuck you. When his pants fell down, you heard a thud. It was your phone in his pocket.

"You dropped my phone!" - You complain, pulling down his boxers.

"Fuck it. I'll buy you two hundred of these." - Jungkook says defiantly. You throw a mischievous smile.

"I don't need two hundred. One is enough for me, if you break the screen you'll buy me a new one." - You say, grabbing Jungkook by the length of his arm. He closes his eyes blissfully as you slowly pump him up. You smear his pre-cum, caressing the tip. You completely grasp his glans with your hand and move your hand back and forth to increase his arousal. In between pumping his length, you caress his balls a few times, which makes Jungkook ecstatic as he let out a low moan and that makes you stronger. When Jungkook thinks you've aroused him enough, he stops your hand.

"Take off your dress so we don't get it dirty." - Jungkook asks in a heavy voice. You let go of his erect cock and lick your thumb, which you had been using to caress Jungkook's cock.

Jungkook's eyes darken and a cocky smile graces his face. You take off your dress and throw it on the toilet, which was closed. You notice a large mirror behind Jungkook's back. You see his bare buttocks. He's gotten rid of his pants and boxers, throwing them elsewhere. He has opened the silk shirt he was wearing so that it doesn't hinder his movements.

When you are naked, Jungkook wastes no time in taking you into his arms. He gives both of your breasts proper attention, caressing and kissing them. Luckily for you, there are no bruises after the last time in the car, and those painful kisses-punishments.

Jungkook rests his hard cock against your pussy and you wonder when he's going to get down to the real business. As if he heard your thoughts, he leaves your breasts and grabs your thigh. He lifts and moves your leg so that he can enter you in a standing position. You feel his cock pressing against your entrance and you bite your lip. Because he's doing it slowly, carefully, with little pressure.

You sigh loudly when his cock is completely inside you. Jungkook suddenly puts his hands on your buttocks.

"Come on, my love, lift." - He urges you and pushes you up so that you are pressed with your hot body against the cold wall of the toilet, pouring your feet over his buttocks. Jungkook presses you tighter against the wall, and you wrap your arms around his neck, trying to hold on as well.

Jungkook makes the first thrust and you hold your breath. He moves his hips to adjust to the most comfortable position. Once he finds the perfect position for both of you, he pushes his cock inside and it feels so incredibly good that you roll your eyes. So blissful, so deep, so tight.

You hear Jungkook moaning lightly into your neck. You open your eyes and see yourself in the mirror. Jungkook's strong figure, with bare buttocks and your legs wrapped around his waist. He is driving himself into you as far as he can, and this new position gives you perfect pleasure.

You can't hold back your moans from his intense movements. His cock is rubbing against your walls very well.

"Shhh.... Baby. You have to be a little quieter. We might be heard." - Jungkook asks you. But you don't understand how you can be quieter here. He's giving you so much pleasure that only these loud moans keep you from going crazy. His cock is so deep in your passage, perfectly hitting your G-spot in this position.

But he's right, you can't be heard. So you try to keep your voice down. Jungkook continues to fuck you, and you realize that you don't have much longer. You can already feel the orgasm building in your middle.

"Kook..." - You call out to him, making him look down at your beautiful face. He smiles and kisses your lips.

"Do you want to come, baby?" - He asks, guessing why you called him. You whimper, and hold back, enjoying his cock, which slams deep into you with every thrust.

"Yes. I want to..." - You say.

"Take your time. Take it easy. Relax. I want to fuck you longer." - Jungkook says. His voice sounds like it's the only way you can come. You breathe hard and close your eyes. You need to relax. But you can't hold it in for long. How long does he want to fuck you? And how can he do that? Is it all the alcohol in his blood that has given him stamina?

Jungkook stops his movements. He breathes fast and you open your eyes. Jungkook kisses you, plunging his tongue into your mouth. Your tongues weave in a perfect pair and taste each other. You can taste the whiskey every time he plunges his tongue into your mouth.

While he kisses you, you can feel his fingers on your clit. You are getting too much stimulation. You want to come already. You're also a little tired of being in this position.

"Kook, please." - You beg, pulling away from his lips. "I want to come." - Jungkook hears your request and slams his hips into you without warning. He makes several deep thrusts and you forget how to breathe.

"I said I want to fuck you longer." - He says roughly.

"I can't take it..." - You say in despair and pleasure at the same time.

"Hold out for me, baby. You can do it, I know you can..." - Jungkook says somewhere in your neck. You don't understand why he won't let you come. He picks up the pace again and is pushes his cock in your poor pussy. You realize that a few more thrusts and you'll just come. But you try to relax. "You're taking me so well, my good girl. Should I let you come at last?" - Jungkook asks you defiantly. You whimper and moan.

"Please... let me..." - You beg as hard as you can. You press your nails into his back and into his back to ease the sensations of stimulation. You feel Jungkook's lips on your cheek.

"Then come for me, love." - You hear his voice. He accelerates his movements to the maximum so that you can feel the longed-for orgasm that you've been holding back on the edge until the last moment. With a sharp thrust, he brings you to the end, and you come around his cock with a long moan. Jungkook goes a little crazy from this sound and keeps fucking you to reach his orgasm.

He will feel his balls squeeze, his cock hardens as much as possible and he spills his hot cum inside you. Your head is spinning, and your ears are ringing from all the feelings that have captured you at the same time.

Jungkook stops after the last thrust and you feel him soften. You're both breathing heavily. You don't know how much time passes before he pulls out of you, lowering you to the ground.

"Fuck, Jungkook." - You say. "Why didn't you let me come?" - You wonder why he did that.

"So you could have a first-class orgasm, my love." - He replies as he takes your chin with his fingers and kisses your lips gently. Your gut flutters from his "my love" and his gentle kiss. He hasn't called you that until today. Does his "my love" mean what you think it means, or is it just a pet name for him? You really did have the best orgasm you've ever had. Was it because you held it back?

"Go pee and get dressed. They're probably looking for us by now." - Jungkook says as he lets go of you and walks toward his clothes. You find a thong and put it on.

Jungkook is waiting for you behind the stall. You get dressed and fix the dress. You go to the mirror and see that you don't look fresh. You take out a paper napkin and dab at your makeup.

You leave the booth, completely satisfied with the incredible sex you had with Jungkook. You notice him standing by the window. His head is down. You come closer to him and to your surprise you notice a phone in his hands. It's your phone.

Jungkook turns to you with an absolutely furious look on his face. Your insides tremble. Your heart speeds up, and you realize that he read the text messages from Doohoon that you didn't delete. You're so stupid. You should have erased them right away. Block this number.

He pokes the phone at you. You see the text message and the last digits of Doohoon's number from the bottom to the top.

"What is it?" - He says, and you hear his voice tremble with anger.

"It's a text message." - You say calmly. You want to pick up the phone, but Jungkook jerks his hand away and won't let you take it.

"Candy, don't tell him we saw each other. He threatened to kill me."- Jungkook reads aloud one of the texts written by Doohoon. Maybe it was because of that text message that you didn't tell Jungkook that day that you saw him. You wanted to tell him, but because he was in a bad mood, you didn't say anything. You remember the angry image of Jungkook at the Christmas party. And you think you didn't keep quiet for Doohoon’s sake, but for Jungkook's.

"Jungkook, honey, I'll explain everything to you now." - You say gently. You want to take his hand, but he takes a step away from you. You freeze, puzzled.

"When the fuck did you see each other?" - He says surprisingly calmly, but you know he's furious inside.

"A few days ago. When you went to Namjoon. He met me in the parking lot of our building." - You admit it. You hear Jungkook start to breathe heavily. He looks at your phone again and reads the text messages from Doohoon.

12.29/08.12 P.M. | 010-***-***-14: You know that I am for you. I'll be there to save you

12.29/08.14 PM | 010-***-***-14: Sweetie, don't tell him we saw each other. He threatened to kill me. I don't know if you know, but he beat me up for telling you the truth about him.

12.29/08.15 P.M. | 010-***-***-14: No matter what you tell me, you seem so lost today. Maybe it's a sign that you've made the wrong choice.

12.29/08.25 PM | 010-***-***-14: I can see you hesitating. I don't need to force you to realize which of us is more reliable.

12.29/08.33 PM | 010-***-***-14: I can see you hesitating. I don't want to force to realize who you need more trustworthy.

12.30/01.26 PM | 010-***-***-14: I'm not giving up, candy. I know I can convince you. Time is on my side.

12.31/10.14 PM | 010-***-***-14: Candy, take care of yourself. There are going to be a lot of people at the party who are connected to the mafia. This is not the world you need to be in. Try to avoid talking to people you don't know, and don't believe the empty smiles. They are here for a reason.

12.31/10.15 PM | 010-***-***-14: If something goes wrong, know that I am always there for you, even if you can't see it.

01.01/01.26 A.M. | 010-***-***-14: Happy New Year, Candy. How are you feeling? Are you okay?

"What the fuck is this Y/N shit?" - Jungkook yells as he clutch your phone. You flinched at the sudden scream. You let him read it because you didn't see any point in hiding anything anymore. You really don't understand why you didn't erase those texts.

"Kook, I really did see him. But I was going to tell you everything. I just didn't want to worry you. You weren't yourself that day. I didn't want you to do anything terrible." - You explained with despair in your voice.

"He's stalking you again and you're not saying anything?" - Jungkook asks, trembling with anger. He clutches your phone so tightly in his hand that you think he's going to smash it.

"No, I wanted to tell you everything..." - You start.

"You wanted?" - Jungkook raises his voice. "But you didn't! You knew it was important, you knew who he was to me and you , and you still kept it from me! Why?" - He shouts. You feel your palms sweat. You are a fool. A fool for letting this situation happen.

You are silent, trying to find the words. You open your mouth a few times to explain, but you fall silent because all the words in your head sound absurd.

"Do you like his attention?" - Jungkook suddenly asks. You freeze in horror. No. Of course not. You don't like his attention, how could Jungkook even think that?

"Are you crazy?" - You ask a rhetorical question. You sound angry. "What attention? I didn't say anything because I didn't know how you would react." - You say. Your breathing has also quickened. You are nervous, feeling nauseous.

"How am I going to react? How do you expect me to react when your phone is flooded with messages from him, and you didn't even think to warn me? He calls you so sweetly, and you just let it happen?" - Jungkook says unpleasant things to you that make you feel dirty.

"I told him to call me that many times. He gave me that nickname back in school, and you know!" - You say. "He texts me, if you can see, but I don't answer."

"Just texts? He knows you'll be at the party and he warns you about the mafia like it's his business! Are you starting to trust him?" - Once again, Jungkook takes you by surprise. You literally boil over from the nonsense your boyfriend is saying.

"What the hell is wrong with you? Do you even hear what you're saying? How can I trust him when I know what that shit did to you? I left those texts to show you when you needed me to. I could have easily deleted them and you wouldn't have known anything!" - You screamed. You fell silent and you looked at each other with rage. Your eyes almost physically radiated lightning.

But suddenly it dawned on you. You have a password on your phone and Jungkook doesn't know it. How did he get into your phone?

"How do you know my password?" - You ask him. Your voice heard like terror. Did he hack your phone? You've got a new one, because your phone is new, too.

"I knew it." - Jungkook admits.

"How do you know, I’m ask?" - You raise your voice, irritated.

"It doesn't matter." - Jungkook waves it off. You run up to him and grab his shirt.

"It is important. Did you hack my phone? Are you spying on me too?" - You ask. Your voice doesn't sound like you. It trembles and almost breaks. Jungkook looked at your hand and took it. He squeezed it hard because you started to struggle. "Answer me!" - You shouted loudly, starting to hit Jungkook. You were worried that he knew about all your affairs, that you were digging up information on his clan, and because of that your sunbae might be in danger.

He grabbed your arms and broke them behind your back. You heard him press you against the wall, trapping you between his body and the wall. For another 10 minutes he held you down in the same way. But now you are in a completely different situation.

"Calm down Y/N!" - Jungkook yelled at you. You stopped struggling in his arms and breathed quickly and deeply. The warmth of his body was somehow not pleasant now.

"You're watching for me too." - You said, holding back your tears. "What makes you better than him? I'm your fucking girlfriend, why do you need to get into my phone?"

"Just for moments like this." - Jungkook replies roughly, still holding you against the wall. "I need to know everything about you because Doohoon wants to hurt you. I thought you trusted me." - You laugh hysterically.

"I do trust you. I trusted you more than anyone in my life. But you've been undermining my trust in you all along. You're the one who hides the truth. I’m yet been silent only for several days, I was PLANNING to tell you everything. I don't know what you can do with him. Beat him again or even kill him!" - You screamed. When you stopped talking, you only then realized what you had said. Jungkook froze, his eyes darting between yours.

"So you believe him. You believe I kill people?" - Jungkook asks, and you can hear the hurt in his voice.

"I don't fucking know what to believe anymore. You're a fucking gangster, how do I know if you kill people or not? I don't know what you do when you're not home all day." - You sound angry.

"I told you I didn't kill people." - Jungkook says calmly.

"How do I know for sure?" - You ask, irritated.

Jungkook steps away from you, and you feel everything inside you tighten. His calm gaze, while not indifferent, was cold and distant. You stand there, breathing heavily, feeling your emotions rising violently inside.

"If you're not sure about me, then why are you here?" - Jungkook asks in a cold voice.

"It's obvious, you idiot, that I love you." - You say and leave the restroom. You run out to the main dance floor and go to the wardrobe. You take your coat and go outside. You cry and just go wherever your eyes lead.

You walk across a wide street crowded with people and cars. Your heart is heavy with tears that never stop rolling down your face. Itaewon is filled with a festive atmosphere - people are celebrating, laughing, hugging, but for you, this whole world seems alien and empty. The light of neon signs, bright fireworks, the sound of music from clubs and shops - all of this merges into a fog, as if you've entered a completely different reality.

The fight with Jungkook was so ridiculous. You feel your heart shrink from this inner pain. It's like you're plunging into a whirlpool of memories, where things were simpler, when you and Jungkook had more trust, and your relationship seemed more natural. But now, as you scroll through all the words you said to each other during the last fight, you wonder.

You wonder if it's worth staying together if he's no longer the person you knew and felt safe with. You feel a kind of disappointment that penetrates your soul, as if someone is slowly throwing away all the positive emotions you felt when you were with him. Jungkook seems to have become different - colder, less open. And although you are still close in bed, in everyday life, things are getting more complicated. You lack understanding, you lack his openness to you.

You think that things might have been different if Jungkook had been the man you remembered, the man who was ready to open up, the man you could trust without question. But now he's become distant, and it hurts you more than you're willing to admit.

Your heart is struggling between the desire to leave everything as it is and the need to let him go. You don't want to be part of a relationship that is constantly burdensome, where even the smallest conversation turns into a conflict.

Sometimes it seems like you just don't know how to be together. You feel that even if you stay together, it won't be what you both want. You wonder if there's even a chance for things to go back to the way they were, or if the connection is irreparably broken.

You know that your New Year's is now ruined, and you're walking alone in the middle of the street. You want to call a taxi, but you realize that you left your phone somewhere near Jungkook.

Before you knew it, you reached the end of the street and stopped on the sidewalk of the Yongsan Bridge, which led to the center of Seoul. You leaned on the pylons and admired the New Year's fireworks over the Han River.

Suddenly, you started crying again, hard and desperately. No matter how much you thought about your relationship, trying to piece it together, the only thing you knew for sure was that you were completely and irrevocably in love with Jungkook.

You can't imagine your life without him. These thoughts just tear you in half. Your heart says I love him, stay, but your mind says run away, he's not your match.

While thinking about Jungkook, you suddenly hear a car stop behind you. You don't pay attention, you're too focused on your feelings. You're standing on a bridge with hundreds of cars passing over it, so you don't realize what's happening behind you.

Only when a strong arm grabs you do you want to turn around, but it's too late. Hands grab your mouth, and before you can even scream, you are being roughly pushed into a car.

You try to break free, but your hands are clamping down, and you don't have enough strength. Every move you make, every attempt to call for help, is drowned out by the cold voices of those holding you. You feel yourself being pushed into the car, and the doors are slammed shut.

"Don't struggle, bitch!" - You hear one of the voices say, sounding like a low grunt. One of the kidnappers ties your hands with a strong rope. They put a black bag over your head and you try to breathe slowly so that the air will last for a long time. Your mouth is gagged.

You try to keep your fear under control, but your heart is pounding and your hands are covered in cold sweat.

The car is speeding through the night city, and you don't know where you're going. You think about Jungkook and pray to God that he will somehow find you. You're scared and you don't know what to expect from these people. But suddenly, in the midst of this silent terror that holds you in a vice-like grip, you hear a part of the conversation that makes you shudder.

"We followed her from the club. He didn't follow. It fucking lucky Jungkook doesn't know where she is and it worked..." - One of the men says and it sounds like he's on the phone. He is silent for a while and then speaks further. "We'll bring her soon. Just 15 minutes." - The kidnapper goes silent, and you feel your blood run cold. The car drives smoothly on the asphalt and you try to listen for any sounds. Feel the road under your wheels. You are tied up and the car is quiet.

The kidnapper don't talk to each other when you feel the car leave the asphalt and drive down some dirt road. You don't know how many minutes pass before the car stops. You hear the sound of your own heart. The door of the car interior opens.

A man takes you in his arms and carries you. You don't resist, you just see the grass and soil that comes into your view. You are taken to some garage or warehouse and put on a chair, tied to it. In a moment, the bag comes off your head and you see four men in front of you. The one holding the black sack in his hand steps aside to make way for his boss, obviously.

This man looks at you.

"Holy shit, look who Jungkook is fucking. Such a hottie!" - A laugh ripples through the room. You try to look at the man's face, but the light hitting your face makes it impossible.

"She's just a tidbit. That bastard should have kept a better eye on her." - Another man says.

"It's definitely Yonte. But God forbid anyone lays a finger on her. I'll personally cut her milky skin to get back at Jungkook. It seems he forgotten about me. He's found a whore for himself, so safely from his side. Not even realizing that this was the moment I was waiting for. I can't wait to see his eyes when she bleeds out." - He laugh crazily and his laugh all around and your heart sinks.

↰ Previous chapter ⋮ ≣ Index ↓ ⋮ Next chapter ↱

[wen-kexing-apologist]

Our Youth: The Responsibility of Adaptation

I regret to inform you all that I dropped Our Youth a few weeks back. Which is tragic because I was so enamored with it at the beginning that I literally went and searched up the manwha and devoured it all in one sitting.

Now, I can definitively say that I do think the first part of both the manwha and the show is the strongest. BUT I want to talk about the two changes I saw in the first half that I do think negatively impacted how the College Years landed. (Forgive me if I get some of the details slight off I'm too lazy to go back to the manwha and check).

For the sake of expediency, I am going to keep the names from the jbl even when talking about the manwha, but please know that Minase and Haruki have different names in the Korean graphic novel.

I. The Big Change that Had a Big Impact

First, I want to talk about the events that get Haruki suspended/expelled from school.

The Show: The bullies Haruki hangs around in school rob a store, Haruki confronts them, Haruki gets in trouble with the school, Haruki...takes the blame for some unknown reason?

The Manwha: The bullies Haruki hangs around bullies a student so severely over the course of the school year that the student attempts suicide. Haruki has never directly partaken in the bullying (keeping with the categories Minase breaks people down in to) but he is a bystander. And when he hears about this student's suicide attempt he realizes that he really should not just be letting the bullies get away with shit like that. He confronts the bully, calls him out on it, and in front of the entire class and as the teacher walks in that fucking piece of shit kid cries and wails and cowers in fear of Haruki making it look like Haruki is not only threatening him but is also the main perpetrator of the bullying that pushed a child to attempt suicide.

In my opinion, there is a huge difference in the stakes and the consequences here, and I think the way the show played it out not only lowers the stakes but detracts from the messaging around the perception of kids like Haruki. The bully in the manwha weaponized the fact that all the teachers see Haruki as a violent delinquent because he...checks notes: choked a teacher who was sexually harassing a student and threatened him to prevent it from happening again and the fact that Haruki is technically culpable because he watched it happen and never stepped in, in order to take the heat off himself and avoid getting in trouble.

In the show Haruki just immediately backtracks on his fight with the bully at the pool hall and takes the fall, suffering the consequences for something he very much didn't do. Haruki's suspension does not induce the kind of rage it would have if they had gone with the manwha version, and Haruki's pulling back from Minase also would make far more sense in the context of Haruki's reaction to finding out about the student's attempt and the part he played in it.

II. The Small Change that Had a Big Impact

Now, I admit I am often guilty of finding a lot of small moments in media to often be what sticks with me, and I can get annoyed when I see an adaptation that might strip away my favorite little moments, or favorite little lines (RIP "call me child one more goddamn time" from Critical Role, you will always be famous to me)

But in this case I do feel it is fair of me to say that making this specific tweak to the story should have caused a hell of a lot of edits to the second half of the story in order to make it compelling. What would that be?

The Show: Minase's father makes a queer indie film. Minase and Haruki attend the film together, there is a happy ending, and Minase finds a label that speaks to his feelings for Haruki.

The Manwha: Minase's father makes a queer indie film. Miase and Haruki attend the film together, there is a sad ending and Minase does not find a label that speaks to his feelings for Haruki. In college, Minase learns that his tutor is gay and has a partner and is happy with his life and this is where he starts to parse through his feelings for Haruki and adopt a label/definition of his queerness.

Small tweak, huuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuuge difference in vibe and in justification for what comes next. In the manwha Haruki and Minase do not see each other for six years because of a phone mishap where one of them had their phone turned off for months in order to focus on studying, and the other got a new phone number or something thus they did not really see or hear from each other. They have an accidental run in in college and they restart their relationship but it still takes them some time.

I dropped the show before I got to the college years so I do not know what if anything happened there, but I do think that when you actually did nothing wrong to warrant getting suspended from school, you know where each other's houses are, you know what your feelings actually are, and your external experiences with queerness are generally happy it is extremely difficult to make being separated for six years feel compelling or believable.

I think it is a little bit more believable when you have a character who is actually culpable in the bullying that led to a suicide attempt, your supposed "school friends" who you kinda have always hated tries to make himself the victim, you don't have a label/definition to put your feelings to, and your only external experiences with queerness are sad and tragic that you might do what Haruki did and assume that Minase also started seeing you negatively and no longer cared for you.

Anyway, I don't think I have a solid conclusion to this post beyond I think if the writers were interested in lightening the mood around the school situation and giving the boys a happy queer ending in high school so they could feel comfortable with their feelings, that's totally fine, but then I think they needed to make some tweaks to the back half to justify those decisions a bit better, at least based off of what I have seen and heard about the way the back half played out.

[klunkcat]

50 VAGUE ANGSTY + HURT/COMFORT DIALOGUE PROMPTS

7. "Did they hurt you?" gio + author's choice :3c

This is foul, just want to say! Not my fault!!!

Gioverse can be found here - this is n!mikey centered because its me <3

His first mistake, in a long line of many, was assuming he could leave for a few hours.

Gio had mentioned in the start-stop way of his that meant more half hedging implications of noticing something than ever an outright statement, that he’d never had broccoli and cheddar cheese soup before. This was, of course, a sin that Mikey had no choice but to right as soon as possible. He’d thought he could be in an out in thirty minutes, maybe an hour tops. Swing by April’s place after giving her a call, pick up the ingredients and head back. Easy peasy. 

He and Gio had really started to crack into his recipe book lately, and the thought was a syrupy sweet palpitation in his chest. Adding one more warm thing to the repertoire of lessons he was bundling the kid in seemed like a wonderful opportunity. 

Except, of course, he’d left Gio alone with them. 

It had been a long minute since Donnie had willingly left his lab, in his defense. More often than not Mikey had to brave the mess of cold wires and empty metal to try and bring dinner to his brother that he knew in his heart of hearts would be forgotten. And Raph rarely stayed in the Lair long enough to do anything other than sleep. He hadn’t thought— well, there was the crux of it. He hadn’t thought at all. 

Returning through the front door with bags of broccoli and the fancy kind of cheddar, he’d been thinking of warmth. Of getting that rare shy smile of Gio’s to shine through once again, just for the two of them. He’d been thinking of kitchen lights and music bouncing off walls, and not at all of the echoes or the empty rooms around them. 

“ – if you think, for one second that he’d– “

“That’s the problem!” Raph’s voice thunders. Mikey’s heart takes a sharp twist and tumbles straight down to the stone floor. “I don’t know anymore. You don’t either! Just— can we stop pretending?” 

A sharp, icy scoff. “Isn’t that what you’re best at, brother of mine? Or is that just Mikey. Should we ask him?”

“Don’t,” Raph growls back. 

“Or what! You’re not even here. Am I the only one who can’t do this? This thing where we act like we can make anything better just because he’s here—” Donnie’s voice pitches up, practically a roar by the end splintering off into a thousand barbs Mikey knew he’d wrap himself in the second that he could. But where is Gio? 

There’s a crash.

The bags fall from his hands to the floor. He takes in the fact Gio’s bedroom door is open, that the lights in the living room are on and— 

It’s all noise and color. Mikey barrelling through, skidding to a stop and registering just enough to note Raph’s balled fists, Donnie’s sharp glare, and Gio, standing just behind the couch, surrounded by shards of glass. Gio’s wide eyes, looking between his brother’s and over at Mikey like he isn’t sure there was anywhere left in the world for him to go. 

No one moves except for him.

He falls to his knees instantly, scooping Gio’s face in his shaking hands. “Are you— did they hurt you? Show me your hands, buddy, okay? I’ll check, I’ll make it better, you’re safe I promise, I—” 

Gio blinks, lets Mikey fuss and turn his hands all over, placating and malleable. There’s a tiny scrape on his knee that looks old, no cuts or nicks on his hands. No red or purple rising on his dark skin. Mikey closes his eyes, leaning his forehead against Gio’s for a shaky breath. 

He feels Gio’s hands reach up and press against his palms. “I’m okay,” he whispers after a moment, voice small and trying not to shake in the way that made his voice flatter. Younger. 

It doesn’t stop him from being terrified, because Gio had grown up somewhere Mikey didn’t know, where pinches and slaps had been handed out as easily as words. And it had taken Mikey all these hard months just to get the kid to stop scanning for exits in every room they stood in, and his brother’s had been yelling.

The thought slows, grinds to a halt. His brother’s had been yelling. About him. 

He makes himself lean back. Glances over at the rest of the room. 

Raph’s face is hollowed out. A complete study in guilt, one hand reaching forward almost unthinkingly. Like the smallest shard of an old Raphie had flickered through for a microsecond before vanishing on both of them. And Donnie– 

“We didn’t know he was here.” Don says, flat as ever. 

Mikey frowns, pulling Gio more firmly into his side. “That doesn’t make it okay.” 

There’s something strange to Donnie’s expression. Guilt? It can’t be. The loss of his twin had warped him so thoroughly that Mikey could never manage to fully understand, and he knows that this Donnie is a facsimile more often than his own person, but he’d thought… It isn’t a kind thought. It isn’t a thought he’s allowed to have anymore. 

“Mikey—” Raph tries, and some of the simmering anger Mikey makes sure he doesn’t have rises up between his breaths. 

“Don’t Mikey me. You were yelling about—” his voice catches, he makes it hold. “About me, right? You think I’m playing pretend. That I don’t know how bad we are.” He remembers that Gio’s here and holds onto the reminder like a buoy in the midst of all this disappointment and hurt, and the things they never say out loud anymore trying valiantly to fight their way through. “I’m not a stupid kid anymore, of course I know!” I know more than you, I know a thousand other worlds more than you, how badly we’re broken, I’ve seen them. 

His hurt crashes against him. “Of course I’m angry! I’m tired, and it’s so hard to try but I can do it  even if you can’t, and I am trying, so just. Stay the hell away and leave Gio out of this!” 

Raph’s face twists, his good eye dropping to the floor. “We thought. I thought he was with you. We wouldn’t hurt him.”

Gio’s warm and still bendable with his need to appease at Mikey’s side. It grounds him in all the same ways it makes all of this so much worse. Wouldn’t hurt him, except they’d yell and glare and avoid, right? Wouldn’t hurt him except that they didn’t know Gio thought he didn’t belong in the one place he should always feel safe. That he thought they hated him.

He opens his mouth, some boiling betrayal burning on his lips— 

“It’s my fault.” Donnie cuts in, still blank and stiff and sharp the way he always is, now. The admission is a tiny miracle nonetheless, and Mikey’s anger dies a quiet heat death in the center of himself. He doesn’t miss the tiny lurch in Gio’s breathing at his side, though. 

No one says anything for a long, horrid moment. Donnie looking straight through Mikey like he’s alone on a dying star; and it aches– it aches all the way through to know it’s an untouchable chill Mikey can’t ever break through even when he tries, and it’s worse to think that he’s used to it, but it’s familiar all the same. Don turns his head, hands flat at his side. 

“I’m the one who can’t do this.” Love right, he means. He doesn’t mean he can’t at all. 

Mikey pulls Gio closer, like he can shield him from the misunderstanding he knows will reach the kid anyways. He feels the words hit Gio, wash over him as Donnie leaves with a hiss of his lab door clicking firmly into place. 

He doesn’t mean it, Mikey thinks of saying helplessly. Except Donnie does mean everything he says, it just exists in stone blocks and hard data now and none of the softness has anywhere to stay. 

Raph watches Donnie leave, and lets out a long sigh. He rubs a hand over his face, and ages rapidly in a thousand eye bag lines all at once. “I’m sorry, kid,” Raph mumbles. Mikey’s not sure if he means Gio. He hasn’t been Raph’s kid in a long time. 

“It’s okay,” Gio says, stiff and quiet. Raph nods to himself, eye gazing emptily at anything but them, and shuffles himself off to his room. 

It’s them, again, like always. Mikey hates the fact he’s relieved enough to let himself untense— that his brother’s could ever exist in the same sentence as danger. It hurts to realize that his instincts have been wired backwards and inverted like this, in this reality Mikey couldn’t save anything from. 

He lets Gio go with a puff of breath and forces himself to stand, tries to find the strength in himself not to cry. There’s a light in him somewhere, still, but it’s different, too. 

Maybe he has been playing pretend in a type of way. Acting like he hadn’t changed as much as everyone else, too. 

Gio’s hand touches his, briefly. “Your knees.” 

He blinks. Oh. There’s blood, patches of it on the floor in between the glittering bits of glass. For a moment he worries that he had missed something after all, that Gio had been hurt— Gio stares nervously at Mikey’s legs where he’d crashed to his knees. 

There’s bloody tears in his pant legs. He doesn’t even feel it.

“Oops,” Mikey tries to laugh. It comes out wavering and pathetic. Gio bites his lip–  isn’t that a thought. All the yelling and the anger and the sheer brokenness of their family, and Gio looks like he might actually cry just over some scrapes from Mikey being stupid. He loves this kid so much it balloons right through him constantly in endlessly shocking ways. 

I’m sorry, Mikey thinks. He’s always sorry these days. “Let me get cleaned up, okay? Then, um. How about a new recipe? Think you’ll love it.” 

Gio looks like he wants to say something, closes his mouth instead. Smiles that tiny way Mikey would burn the world down for, instead. 

Maybe they’re both pretending, really. Maybe that’s all they can do. 

___

Gio grew up cold, it’s an inescapable reality he’s forged his understanding of the world around. There’s a bone deep chill that resides within most places, rooms for things that aren’t to be kept, and stern words meant to correct in straight neat lines. There’s no space for anything else. That’s the reality, kid. 

He’d spent most his life adapting, quick as he could to make the next deadline or the next drop. Make sure he was useful but not too important to be seen, to keep the jobs coming and food for the next day available. 

There was a point A to a point B, a quickest route forward. That’s all he needed. 

When Mikey found him a lot of that had been subsequently shaken apart. A lot of things suddenly meant staying, and promises, and bright room lights that held. Suddenly, food was fun and a given, and could be asked for, and there were laughs bubbling up and bouncing back to him, and warm hands against his cheeks asking ‘are you okay’ just to know. To check. 

He knew what being warm was because he knew the cold. He considered this a gift. 

There isn’t a single atom of himself that doesn’t ache with a deep homesickness he’s not sure he’s allowed to have every second that his Mikey is lost somewhere unreachable, but he is grateful. As much as he loves his family now, and their bright silly constant thrum of life everywhere he goes, he wouldn’t ever have chosen differently. 

If he was cold for nineteen years, it was so his big brother could burn bigger in comparison. 

His family now has plenty of warmth all on their own, but he tries to burn the same way for them all the same.

It’s funny, sometimes; his stomach twists with a fond ache that’s equal parts grief and absolute relief all in one that ties his words up somewhere else he can’t touch, but he misses his Mikey in the same way he loves this one. He wonders if Mikey knows how bright he is, that it’s the bravest thing he’s ever known. He’s also so small, here. Breakable in all the ways he bounces. It’s absolutely terrifying. 

Gio had been fighting in back alley scrapes and life or death battles since he was ten, but that doesn’t mean his little brother should. 

“Did they hurt you?” He asks, scanning absolutely every inch of Mikey’s arms and face he can see. He presses carefully at his sides, where the hard shell and plastron give way to more tender spaces. Mikey giggles instead of flinching, thank god. 

“Gogo~” Mikey complains, laughter bright on his cheeks. “I’ve been in bigger fights last week.” 

“You got thrown through a wall.” 

Mikey waves a hand. “Like, a little.” 

“No, he’s right,” Leo leans over Gio’s shoulder. “That sounded pretty rough. Anything dislocated?”

Gio hates the idea abruptly that any of them know what dislocation feels like, or that it’s regular enough it wouldn’t be obvious. 

“I’m fine, really! I pinky promise double swear.” 

Leo purses his lips. “With sprinkles on top?”  

Raph’s worry sensors must ping at the commotion, because Gio can hear him abruptly switching to Mikey fussing mode from the other room. Mikey’s expression darkens, Gio switches tactics. 

“You’re okay,” he decrees, with a tiny nod. “Soup will fix it.” 

Leo’s muffled snort is worth it for the way Mikey’s eyes light up. 

“Oh! I have broccoli I’ve been meaning to use.” He immediately jumps up, luckily confirming he is in fact just fine in the same motion, and instinctively puts both hands on Gio’s cheeks with excitement. “Oh mama, you have no idea what can of worms you’ve just unleashed. I’m going to make so much soup. How about a new recipe? I think you’ll love it.” 

Gio’s heart does something funny. 

“I’m sure I will,” he smiles back. Warm enough for all of them.

[reignpage]

NEED Choso biblically. Eden Au Choso, any Au Choso, Choso hair up, Choso hair down, villain Choso, grey hero Choso, Big bro Choso— if it looks like a Choso, walks like a Choso, sounds like a Choso, it’s Choso AND I WANT HIM 😩 matter of fact, I’ll take them all. line up those cocks, boys. I won’t just suck em, I’ll inhale them into my very soul 🙂‍↕️😤 how will they all fit? I’m so glad you asked, I have three holes for a reason and, god willing, will create three more. where there’s a FUCKING WILL 😤😤 there’s a FUCKING WAY 😤😤 -literally- don’t even need lube, pussy so drenched call it Niagara Falls.

will cut off my left pinky for one singular drop of cum each from each jjk man. not even the main six, fuck it I’ll take the others, shiu, takuma, Hiromi, Ichiji, Yaga, that old little raisin school head whatever his name is. THAT is how bad I need something in me. ovulation just seems worse this time around. the cold is already freezing my imaginary balls off, does that mean I freeze off my dignity too?

Toji walks like it’s the heaviest, even if Sukuna has two, Toji is the HEAVIEST. the stretch would be insane though. dunno if I’d handle all that or ever get used to it. like why you got me doing calisthenics to prep for that dick? wdym resistance band? MY VAGINA IS THE RESISTANCE BAND. I hate canon Sukuna for a multitude of reasons but something tells me he wouldn’t eat the cat because “heian era 🙄 i don’t get on my knees for anyone 🙄 I man you woman 🙄” all that bullshit. yeah whatever, i signed up to get my pussy ate, not a history lecture. even if the man did, something tells me he’d be absolutely atrocious. slobbering, eyed red, growling and not in the good way, like some fucking animal that would literally make me prop my head up like “ho is you good?” Nanami, now THAT is a man who can treat me RIGHT 😤 sitting his lap would solve 99.99% of my problems, no doubt. him being real and alive would solve the other 0.01%. him folding me like a pretzel and hitting me with that dumb dick would solve an additional 75% as insurance and set me straight for life. I hate Suguru, never liked him, never cared for him, would hit it once and quit it, “I’ll take it to go” kinda deal, “cum and go” kinda deal. I do not need a man who has prettier, more luxurious and well managed hair than me. I have enough to be jealous of already. Gojo needs to be in me YESTERDAY like where is that man😤 His annoying personality may put off some, but he’ll pipe down when I ride his face dw. It’ll take me a while to get up there, sure, cuz I’m short but even as a really short girlie, best believe I will climb the tree called Satoru Gojo like I’m Tarzan. tall, handsome, strong, AND rich? Call me a gold digger but bitch??? have you seen the economy??? of course I AM. dollar, pound, or yen, I AM GETTING MY BAG 😤 imma be digging for that gold while his honored dick can dig at my guts 🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️🤷‍♀️ would deadass hit all of them like a merry go round and go back to doing gymnastics on Choso’s. You know the edits of him that have Kenjaku like “you must be exhausted 😊” and he’s like “so what if I’m exhausted? 😠👊” with that growl 😩😩😩😩😩😩😩 he gon be exhausted TEN FOLD alright when I’m done. just the tip plz Choso, just half a boner plz, GIVE ME THAT HALF CURSED DICK NEOW. I need 327 of his babies, stat. I need to be sedated, I need to be spayed, I need to feel his dick in my stomach, I want to go twenty rounds and then some. wanna scratch off every single thing off the rice purity test with him, except the illegal things and bestiality. I mean, unless it’s that beastly cock then that’s okay 😃👍 i fully understand the WAP lyrics in this moment, because girl me too. I just know his balls are HEAVY with the weight of responsibility. And cum, that too. I will gladly take it in every orifice and have him shake me up to make me a cum smoothie, it’s only reasonable 🤷‍♀️ will forever hate Sukuna for killing him but when they animate hair down Choso, it’s gonna be like when Jesus came back on the third day for me.

Never have I been so down bad for a man that isn’t even real but is just lines on paper. surely, my kewchie isn’t so delusional as to dream of fucking someone who doesn’t exist on the material plane, but then again, this is me we’re talking about. but am I a bad feminist??? feel like I’m setting us all back to before men saw us as people for being this feral for a man. like wow, i sound like a Victorian peasant girl from… whenever the Victorian times were but instead of begging for alms, I’m down on all fours, salivating at the prospect of dick from a 150 year old. I knew I liked older men but fucking hell.

finally worked up the courage. if this makes you uncomfortable, girl I get it 😭 me too, idek who wrote this. posting this and never looking back I’m never coming back to tumblr again, never showing my face here IM FOREVER LEAVING GOODBYE

Girl I was nodding along. You are so right about everything you said. The things I would do to those men it’s a crime against humanity fr fr

They can run a train right through me 🫶

[puckinghischier]

i’m having soft quinn thoughts today and i have to shout them from the rooftops so everyone else can suffer with me.

but i absolutely cannot stop thinking about how quinn would always want to spend time with you, but feel guilty for how occupied he is during the season. every second of downtime he has is spent watching game film in your living room, studying tactics and plays. not that you ever complain. you’re content simply being in the same room as him, not taking for granted any amount of time you can be in his presence.

quinn’s attention is always half on you, no matter how hard he tries to focus. he steals more glances at you than he cares to admit, worried that one day you’ll get sick of sitting in silence while hockey occupies the space between you. but you never do. you keep yourself busy scrolling through your phone or reading the most recent book he bought you, never uttering a complaint. he’s tuned in to every fidget or movement you make, not wanting you to remove your always cold feet from under his warm legs to occupy yourself with something—or rather someone—better.

it surprises him that you never do. you never utter a word, not wanting to disrupt his work. every so often he’ll catch you looking back at him during one of his ‘quick’ glances, absorbing the warm smile you give him. sometimes you’ll quietly ask him if he wants anything from the kitchen when you stand to go fill up your water cup, but seem content to simply sit there with him as he mumbles to himself, jotting down notes as he watches.

tonight, he can’t help but notice—during his million and one glances at you—that your eyes are glued to the tv. your phone is laying, locked, in your lap, eyes following the puck as it’s shuffled across both screens from player to player. your body’s subtle reactions to the game aren’t lost on him either. the twitch of your foot anytime someone shoots the puck, the raise of your brow when a player on either team scores, the hitch in your breath anytime the two teams start to fight.

you can feel his eyes on you more than usual tonight, his (not so) subtle glances lingering longer than normal. you turn your head to meet his gaze, brows furrowed and puzzled look on his face.

“what?” you whisper, flitting your eyes between his own and the tv, not wanting to miss any important moments.

“are you watching the game?” he looks at you like you have three heads.

you giggle in response, amused at his expression and surprised tone of his voice. “yeah, kinda. don’t really know what’s happening, if i’m honest.”

there was never a home game of quinn’s you missed. you went to support him every time you could, and loved seeing him in his element. but you can’t even pretend to understand the sport past each player wanting to get the puck into the opposing net. you didn’t understand the positions, the penalties, or anything surrounding the ins and outs of professional hockey. you never watched it growing up, and probably still wouldn’t watch it if you weren’t dating the captain of your new city’s team.

you had moved to vancouver for work, and knew nothing of the prominent hockey culture before you arrived. the sports presence buzzed all around you as you figured out the ins and outs of your new home, but had no place in your daily routine. that is, until you hit it off with this insanely attractive stranger that seemed to frequent the same coffee shop as you. you accidentally cut him in line one day, offering to pay for his coffee to make up for it, but he paid for yours instead. a ‘pay it forward’ war was started between the two of you until he was stood waiting at the door with your usual order one morning, requesting more than just a name and the fact you drank a large, vanilla iced coffee with chocolate syrup lining the cup every morning.

when he realized you were likely the only person in the city he now calls home that doesn’t know who he is, it only piqued his interest in the pretty coffee shop stranger further. the morning meetings at the coffee shop turned into an exchange of numbers, which developed into him meeting you for lunch on your break when he was in town, that then escalated into dinner dates and spontaneous outings, and now it’s found its permanence in you moving in with him a few months ago.

you were…indifferent, when he revealed to you who he was and what all his career entailed, uttering out a simple “oh! that’s cool! makes sense why you’re always at the gym, now” later explaining that you thought he was just really into fitness and maybe worked as a personal trainer or some equivalent. when he first invited you to games he tried to tell you a little bit about the rules, but assumed you’d catch on as you watched (hopefully) more and more of his sport. you always told him how much you enjoyed watching him in his element, but never asked many questions past if the other team was supposed to be good or not. he assumed you understood enough to keep up, knowing how intelligent and observant you are, but he tried to refrain from talking about work too much with you. when he’s with you, he wants to be present with you, not hockey.

which is why he feels so guilty at times like this, watching film while you’re sitting next to him. it feels like you’re two people who happen to be in the same room, completely in your own worlds. until tonight.

“you…never watch the games with me. you always have a book or something,” he reaches over to pause the game, still a little shocked.

you shrug at him. “didn’t feel like reading tonight. not really anything new on my socials, either. so i figured i’d just watch with you for once.”

“and you weren’t gonna say anything?”

this earns a real laugh out of you, not understanding why this is such a big shock for him. it’s not like you’ve ever told him you don’t like hockey. you just have never really cared to watch it if isn’t the one playing. but you’ve been wanting to learn more about it recently, tired of not being able to participate in the games like the other women do when they’re watching their husband or boyfriend play.

“why would i? you’re trying to work, i’m just trying to learn a little bit,” you reply, the hint of a laugh on each word as you say it.

quinn just blinks at you, trying not to get his hopes up at your expression, not knowing just how far you want to go with your quest for knowledge.

“since when do you want to learn about hockey? why now?” he questions, trying not to sound accusatory or snarky, but genuinely curious as to what you’ll answer.

“i’ve always wanted to learn, ever since that first game i went to, but you don’t seem to like to talk about it outside of the rink, so i don’t really ask much. me and google have become very good friends as of late,” you shrug out another answer for him. “plus, when you’re watching games at night like this, i don’t want to keep talking and asking a million questions while you’re trying to work, so i force myself not to watch to keep from distracting you.”

quinn sits a little straighter, now worried he’s made it seem like hockey is this forbidden subject between the two of you.

“sweetheart, i don’t like talking about hockey outside of the rink because i don’t ever want you to think that’s all we ever talk about, not because we can’t talk about it,” he tries to defend himself, even though there’s no accusation. “if you want to learn about the game, please, ask me questions. i- god, i’d love nothing more than to teach you about it. i hate sitting here in silence every night i’m home, worried you’re going to eventually get pissed at me because all i do during the season is watch old games.”

you grin at his slight panic, endeared by how worried he was about your feelings this whole time, appreciating his intention with the unspoken rule.

“q, i never asked about it because i didn’t want you to be upset because i kept bringing up work when you’re away from it all,” your smile only grows at the fact you were both worried about upsetting the other for no reason at all.

the slight tension in his shoulders fades at your words, relieved that you’re not upset or feel like he made it seem like you had no place in that part of his life.

“alright, well, fire away, then,” he gives you the floor, pressing play so the players on the tv screens move once again, now glancing at you every few seconds to catch any looks of confusion or interest in any particular play or action.

the rest of the night is spent playing and pausing the game over and over again, question after question flying out of your mouth. anything from why the faceoff is from a certain spot on the ice to what a particular penalty looks like is spoken the second the thought enters your brain. quinn takes his time explaining every answer to you, even rewinding and pulling up other examples to make sure you understand what he’s telling you.

at the end of the night he realizes just how much more he caught of the game while answering your questions. there’s several times you picked up on things he never has before. like why one player seems to always place his stick so close to another player’s skates while he’s chasing him. or why a certain goalie seems to lean left everytime instead of right, no matter where the puck is coming from.

he’s been able to add several tells about players in his notes, ready to take them to practice the next morning and change his game to accommodate his opponents habits. and when they win their game a few days later, thanks to your observations during the impromptu hockey 101 class in your living room, he revels in the fact that even though you know so little about his sport and his job, you ended up being one of the biggest parts of their success.

from then on, the nights of sitting in silence while he studies film are nonexistent. every time he brings work home with him, you’re right there next to him, enthralled in whatever opponent’s game their facing that week. he loves that you’re so observant, paying attention to the smallest of details someone who’s been playing for years becomes blind to. and he really loves turning you into a bottomless pit of hockey information, seeing how you absorb each ‘lesson’ from day to day.

when they break through their slump, a big part of that accredited to your nights spent questioning quinn, and he sees you start really participating in his games, he can’t help but fall that much deeper in love with you. watching you scream and complain about bad calls work the rest of the fans in rogers arena, and texting him your thoughts about his away games you watch on tv, swells his heart in a way he never thought to be possible.

plus, he always knew it was only a matter of time before you fell victim to the hockey atmosphere of the city. no one can really resist the pull of vancouver hockey, especially not when it’s captain has anything to do with it.

[feroluce]

So we were talking about Dan Heng reincarnating in the boothenghill server recently. I think there's a lot of wiggle room in there for how it would go, given

a) we know very little about the transmutation arcanum and how All That works and

b) Dan Feng fucked around hard and found out even harder, so anything we would have known anyway is kaput.

This is something that, apparently, has never occurred before. There's no precedent. There should never be two Vidyadhara with draconic features at the same time, but even so, we have Dan Heng and Bailu both displaying tails and horns.

tl;dr I have a permit that says I can do whatever I want!

In the case that they find out Dan Heng will no longer reincarnate the same way- with Dan Feng having successfully broken the line of the Imbibitor Lunae- I think Dan Heng would be happy about it, in a way. He'll reincarnate the same as any other Vidyadhara now, where he will be a completely different person with no memories every time. There's no more pain or expectations to inherit. Whoever comes after him will have the clean slate he'd always wanted.

The only bitterness he holds about the whole ordeal is that it means he'll be leaving Boothill alone.

And so Dan Heng holds out as long as he can, to the point that even Bailu goes before him ("Now next time you'll have to call me jiejie haha!") but eventually the time comes for a hatching rebirth, and he and Boothill make their way back to the Luofu, to Scalegorge Waterscape.

(As he gets older, as he pushes the limit of the Vidyadhara lifespan, Dan Heng gets slightly more delirious, more forgetful. One morning, Boothill wakes up to Dan Heng trying to crawl out of bed half-asleep, asking what time it is. He was supposed to get up early to help Himeko make breakfast, so he can try to save everyone's stomachs.

Himeko has been long gone for centuries.

Boothill coaxes Dan Heng back into bed with him, tells him it's alright, someone else took over breakfast duty this morning. He forgot to tell him last night. Sorry. Dan Heng settles back in, right up against a warm metal chest plate, goes back to sleep.

If he remembers any of this later when he wakes up again, he doesn't say anything. Neither does Boothill.)

Boothill knows the water isn't good for him. He stubbornly wades out as far as he can anyway.

Dan Heng kisses him goodbye, pinches his cheek, tells him to behave himself through the crack in his voice. There's not much left to say at this point, they've been saying their goodbyes for days now. Boothill cheekily makes no promises, even as he slides his own hand over Dan Heng's, cradles the flat of his palm against his face and holds it there as long as he can. Dan Heng finally disappears under the waves.

Boothill still can't cry.

One of the Pearlkeepers has to come up and chase Boothill out, how long he stands there rusting in the water.

He wouldn't tell Dan Heng about it, of course, but as the 700 year mark approached them, Boothill starting having Ideas. And he decides, as he stands there alone in the sand feeling horribly hollow like he hasn't in a long, long time, fine! Fuck it! Fine!!

Execute Operation Last Hurrah!!

Because I think Boothill should get to go out in a petty, spiteful blaze of glory! Let the man die like how he lived!!

Boothill had simmered down a bit after he killed Oswaldo Schneider, and then even moreso when he and Dan Heng got hitched. But now Dan Heng is gone. There's no one left to stick around for, or to keep him together. So Boothill just goes on an absolute bender.

He leaves everything he and Dan Heng had to charities and rebel organizations. He steals whatever he wants from the IPC and then some. He fucks over as many of their plans as he can, and as horribly as he can. He hijacks himself an entire spaceship to hide away whatever it is he's pilfered and made off with- just the things that are no use to anyone else or that he can't give away without causing too much trouble for the receiver, but he can destroy them and make sure they don't fall into the wrong hands ever again.

And then Boothill finds himself a nice cozy little spot in the captain's room, kicks back with his feet up as he sets course for the nearest sun.

He makes himself a sad little one-sided toast, with the godawful sake Dan Heng would always insist was good after you got used to it. Boothill already figures he's not gonna make it to wherever it is Dan Heng ended up. If he does, it's a sign somethin' ain't workin' right.

But oh, Hell is about to become so, so much worse for all them IPC folks down there.

See ya soon, Oswaldo! ☆

[uracutieraka]

N Side

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Been crushing on each other for years

But I guess i’d just really like to know if

You feel the same way about me as I feel about you

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Shoyo Hinata x F!Reader

Tw! SMUTTYSMUT, dw tho overall fluffy! Bffs to lovers!

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Synopsis; Hinata receives a surprise visit from an old friend from high school. You know what they say, distance makes the heart grow fonder.

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

Hinata and you went wayy back.

Or so he says to everyone when they ask about you.

In reality you had only met the boy 6 years ago. At the beginning of your first year.

Sure 6 years wasnt not a while but with the way the ginger said it, it sounds as if he’d known you forever.

Like you were such a sure part of his life there could be no way you two hadn’t spent everyday together over your whole life.

Truth be told, you also referred to Shoyo in the same regards.

Since you met him it’s as if everything in this massive puzzle we call life had been put together.

Almost like you two were the remaining puzzle pieces.

Finally being put together at the center. Creating the whole picture.

That’s why you had decided for your 21st birthday you would go to visit him in Brazil.

So you called Kageyama who in turn told you off for even calling him over something so stupid as asking for Oikawa’s phone number.

“I don’t even have it y/n!”

“I know you’re lying.”

A brief moment passes before you hear clicking from what could only be his phone’s keyboard.

A huff hits your ears before the black headed boy speaks again.

“It’s in your inbox. Now stop calling me over dumb shit.”

“Yeah yeah, you know you love it when i call you.”

“Bye y/n.”

And with that he hung up, now leaving you to plot and scheme behind your best friends back.

Dialing the number in your inbox you start to second guess yourself.

I mean you dont personally know Oikawa.

Is this weird of you?

“Yello?” A chirpy voice says on the other end of the line.

Welp. Nows better than never.

“Hi. Uhm, is this Tooru?”

“Uhm, yes, who’s this?”

Damn. You forgot to introduce yourself.

“Uhm. Im y/n…Sho’s best friend?”

“Oh! Y/n! I remember you. Youre the cute little manager right? I only met you the once my third year.”

Man is this guy a chatter box or what?

“Yeah! That’s me! So look, I turn 21 next month and was wanting to come down and surprise Sho. So, I got your number from Tobio an-,”

“Ah! Tobio! My protege. He still has my number? I knew he cared about me!,” A hearty laugh over takes your phone speaker. “But hey, i’ll call you back tonight and we can arrange something for ya’! Shoyo’s only 20 feet away from me right now so now’s not the best time.”

“Perfect!”

2 ended phone calls and 3 hours later you finally received a call back from the older man.

6 hours and 1 transition to FaceTime with said man later, your whole trip was planned. Even set with Oikawa confirming plans for the day you land with Shoyo.

(Oikawa told him some friend of a friend was having a birthday dinner and party at a local bar.)

༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶

This is so NOT going as planned.

You had just landed in the foreign land and already things were going south.

You had finally collected your luggage, 2 months worth of luggage in fact, Oikawa had somehow convinced you that a prolonged stay was imperative to ‘restoring Shoyo’s drive to do pretty much anything.”

Apparently he had been down in the dump since coming here 8 months ago.

Oikawa had explained you were the top reason mentioned.

Apparently Hinata would say he ‘just didn’t know how to live without his other half.’

When the man told you this a familiar feeling rose in your tummy, and a heat spread up your neck trailing over your cheeks.

That’s how you ended up with 2 giant suit cases, a large duffel bag, and an oversized carry-on bag full of your belongings.

And now, your uber had just called to inform you that his car had broken down, and he was infact unable to get you.

You had been redirected in the app to another driver.

Who was 50 minutes out.

You look at the time.

You had been flying for over 24 hours since you left Japan.

You decided the time it would take to wait then make the 30 minute drive into the city would eat up any hopes of you getting ready before you go meet Shoyo.

You dial Oikawa’s number, 3 rings and he picks up.

“Hey! Whatsup? You landed? How was your flight? Make it to my place yet?”

You guys decided that since he had a spare room you would crash there so as not to impede on Shoyo or his roomates lives so suddenly.

You begin explaining to him your problem.

“Hm,” you hear him start clicking his tongue, mulling over what to do. “Ok! Im on my way, share your location.”

“Wha-“

He hangs up before you can even say anything else.

So you do as he says.

He makes it to you in 15 minutes.

“That was fast!” You say as he gets out of the car.

“Eh, i have my ways.” He shrugs.

You should have understood what he meant by that.

It was a hint to prepare yourself for the ride ahead.

Your 30 minute drive was easily cut in half by the man.

You saw your life flash before your eyes at least 4 times.

“Alright, well i’ll help you with your bags then leave ya to it! The bar we’re going to is straight down the road, a 4 minute walk to be exact! So we’ll meet you there!”

He grabs your bags easily, much to your dismay and against all your arguments and protests, wanting to help.

Taking you up to the apartment you finally answer all his questions about how the flying was, and he listened to your brief rant about air fare and how it was all a scam.

Laughing and interjecting where he needed to.

He showed you around his apartment a bit, then showed you to his guest room.

It was nice, clean and organized. Surprisingly for a 23 year old bachelor pad.

Especially with the way the man acts, he’s lively and would be one to make you think his life goes by too fast to do such trivial things as make his bed.

“Wow, I don’t know how to thank you for your kindness!” You say bowing in front of him.

“No! Don’t worry about all that. Plus, it’ll be nice to get Shoyo out of this weird slump he’s been in.”

A few minutes later he leaves again, leaving you to do what you needed to do.

Going through your normal routine, you take it slower than usual, now having spared time to do so.

Finally after doing your hair and makeup perfect, you slip on your outift.

It’s simple and cute.

Skinny jeans and a slightly too-tight, to see through, and a very low-cut white tee.

A bright pink bra shows through it from how sheer the material is.

You did this on purpose, there’s no denying you had feelings for your best friend.

But you had also become slightly bolder with the distance that had been put between the two of you.

A desire to make him yours had clouded your mind ever since he left.

Though it had been there long before that, it just seemed to get worse the longer you spent separated from him.

Nights spent wondering if he was with other girls, talking to them, dancing with them, touching them.

You just couldn’t stand the thought of it.

Your ringer chimes.

‘Head this way!’

A message from Oikawa reads.

You make your way to the bar, using the pin he sent you.

He was nice enough to have a bottle of wine pushed against the pillows on your bed when you arrived.

A bow with a little note card adorned it.

‘Enjoy! Pregame a bit ;)’

You finished the bottle before you left.

And the walking had really made you start to feel it.

You were a little more than buzzed and a even newer confidence had surged in your body.

You make your way through the doors, finding the tall brunette and shorter ginger’s heads in the crowd.

You push through sweaty bodies, and a few large men.

Hell bent on reaching the man you had longed for on lonely nights, your hand wondering between your legs, wishing it was him.

Finally you make it to him.

Throwing your arms over his shoulders your hands cover his eyes.

“Guess who~” it’s sweet and sing-songy. A common greeting you two had since your second year, when you guys decided that was for some reason the funniest thing you two had ever done. (It wasn’t)

He grabs your hands spinning around, grabbing your hips.

You rock back slightly, you probably would’ve stumbled farther had it not been for his tight grip on your hips.

“No fucking way!” He yells over the music.

“I was just talking about how much I missed you!” He pulls you forward quickly, moving to grip around your shoulders in a bear hug.

You hug him back, he’s significantly stronger than before, and you can feel the muscles through his shirt.

You pull back from him.

“Let’s fucking drink bitches!” You yell to both the men.

An hour later and you and Shoyo found your way on the dance floor. You guys are facing each other and dancing care-free.

A somg comes on that you recognize. Its slow and has a 70’s funk to it.

Alcohol is pumping in your blood. You know it is for Sho too. All those nights in high school sneaking some from your parents personal collection and getting drunk in secret with the boy helped you figure out when he was and wasn’t under the influence.

You step forward closing the distance between you two.

Your hands rest on his chest as you lean forward to whisper in his ear.

“Sho, I need you.”

Its soft and whiney, you would have never said that sober.

You dont give him time to process before you turn around, pressing your back to his chest, hands flying up to touch each side of his jaw, ass pressing into him.

He takes notice of the fresh manicure on your hands, a french tip set.

He remembers in high school when you had first gotten one, he asked what it was called, and then declared it was his favorite type of nails on you.

And it was, but he wasn’t as innocent with the declaration as you thought, in fact he was far from it.

He was 17 and couldn’t help it, but the thoughts of what your hands would look like wrapped around him, with your cute little french tips was just too much for him.

He snaps out of his thought when your hips sway into him, head falling to rest on his shoulder.

You lightly drag your nails down the sides of his neck before dropping them to continue your swaying and dancing on him.

He moves his hands to fall on your hips, now swaying with you, leaning down he answers you.

“Then come home with me.”

It’s simple, but you know this will change everything. Every dynamic you two have ever had will become something different. Something intense and exciting.

Lust has filled your head, you’re running on pure adrenaline and alcohol. His scent is filling your nose, his warmth is burning on your skin, you’re overwhelmed with all of this.

You spin back around and pull him off the dance floor by his hand, you make your way back to Tooru who hasn’t moved from his spot. But a cute blonde now fills the seat Shoyo once sat in, chatting away with Oikawa.

Shoyo goes up to him, still holding your hand, leaning down he whispers a few words to the other man. Stepping away you see Oikawa give him a wink and thumbs up.

As you both are leaving Oikawa calls out.

“Dont get too crazy kids!”

You chuckle as you’re being dragged along by the ginger.

You didn’t realize Shoyo lived in the same building as Oikawa.

Only a floor apart.

You make it to his door and it seems like something in him breaks, he pushes you against the door in the hallway, kissing you.

You grab at his shoulders.

Moaning into his lips, he deepens the kiss, his tongue slipping past your lips, yours now intertwining with his.

Your hands find their way into his hair as his hands grab at your ass then make their way under your thighs, lifting you up.

You’re now being held between the door and him.

He’s grinding up into you, he’s moving so fervently that you don’t even care if he took you, right here and right now.

He wouldn’t be your first, but you hope he’s your last.

He breaks away from you.

“Not here,” his chest is heaving up and down quickly. “Gonna do this, you, right baby.”

He’s so confident compared to back in school.

Or maybe he’s always been like this and you were just the nervous one.

None of that matters now.

He’s opened the door and guided you inside.

“My roommates working tonight.” He says, now you really study him.

His eyes are blown out, cheeks red, from you or the alcohol is unclear, hes really filled out in the past few months since he’s been here. His hair is slightly longer too.

“Sho,” you say. “I’ve really missed you these past few months. I’ve also had a lot of time to think about things,” you step towards him, putting your arms around his neck you slide closer, having to stand on your tippy toes a bit to get close to being eye level with him. Your eyes are heavy, lids half closed. “I really want to fuck you.” Its low and sultry.

The way you’re looking at him, the sound of your voice, your outfit. The pink bra he recognizes as one he had been eyeing on a shopping trip with you.

You two had gone to the mall together a few weeks before he left, last minute shopping for his big move.

You dragged him into a bra and panty store last second, due to the large sale sign sitting in front of the door.

As you looked around, Shoyo’s eyes were caught off guard by a bright pink fabric. He moved closer to eye it.

It was lacy and the color was perfect.

He pictured you in it, how good it would look on you.

He knew it was wrong but he couldn’t help it.

“That bra,” he breathes out. “It’s the one from the mall back home.”

“You think I didn’t see you looking at it in the store? Plus it’s cute. Right?”

He chuckles a bit before locking eyes with you.

“You’re cute.” He says.

You blush and go to turn your head but before you can he cups the side of your face, turning you back to face him.

He pulls you back in for another kiss. Yet again he picks you up and your legs wrap around his waist. He leads you to his bedroom, kicking the door shut behind him.

Still holding the slow and sloppy kiss he lays you down oh the blankets.

You’re immediately engulfed in a comforting and familiar smell.

All the days and nights spent in his room, sleeping over, laying together much closer than best friends should.

Feet entangled under the blankets as you two face each other and giggle over nothing.

Now this is different, not sweet and innocent, no, its much more than that, this is sinful and gluttonous.

He’s on top of you leaving wet, hot kisses down your jaw and neck, following the collar of your v-neck, he kisses the exposed parts of your breasts.

Once he reaches the point in the v he stops, only to start pulling your shirt up, you sit up right and quickly discard of it. He guides his hand up to trace the hem of the bra gently for a moment, before grabbing your face and pulling you back in.

You reach back up to cup his face in both your hands, pulling him closer to you.

He reaches between your bodies and unbuttons your jeans with ease.

“Take these off.”

Its stern and desperate.

You immediately obey and move to stand in front of him.

You face him and make a show out of discarding your pants.

You turn around, back now facing him, and slowly you shimmy your pants down, bending over to pull them down, slowly, arching a bit as you do.

Once the pants are at your ankles, you stand back up even slower.

Finishing your little tease act, you turn back around.

Shoyo’s eyes are wide and it seems like he’s malfunctioning.

“Sho?” You say, sweet as could be.

“You are so fucking sexy, holy fucking shit.” A smile now crosses his face.

A giggle escapes your lips.

“C’mere,” he stands up grabbing you gently, hands wrapping themselves around you before he quickly does a 180° with you in his arms.

You squeal as he yet again pins you under him.

“But really, who d’ya think you are showing up here, wearing a cute lil’ bra, nails done how i like, oh, and not to mention, these cute panties to match! Y’know im starting to think you only came here to have sex with me.” He says, he’s always been bold but you didn’t expect him to be like this.

“Mhm,” you nod your head no. “I came here because I missed you Sho.”

He smiles at the admission. Standing up to pull his shirt off, he loses his breath when he looks down.

You’re on your elbows, legs tucked up so your knees are in the air. You’re eyes are heavy and seductive. The way you’re positioned and looking at him is pornographic.

He literally moans out loud before ripping off his shirt, then he quickly pushes his pants off.

Eagerly he crawls back over you.

“M’gonna fuck you so good.”

His words send a shiver down your spine, you’ve only seen him like this before a volleyball match.

He yet again captures your lips, kissing down you again, this time though, he trails down your stomach stopping at the top of your underwear.

But instead of taking them off he pushes your underwear to the side.

He spits onto your already wet heat.

You gasp at the sensation then cut yourself off with a small whimper when he slides a finger up and down you.

He stands up, pulling you to the edge of the bed. He drops his underwear, stroking himself for a second before spitting on his hand and continuing the motions.

“I think you’re ready f’me baby. Don’t you?” He says it so condescendingly, like he doesn’t think youre actually ready.

“Please Sho, need you s’bad.”

He groans rolling his head back for a moment before he pushes your underwear back over.

He guides his tip to go up, causing a slight moan to leave your mouth.

“No teasing!” You say quickly.

He chuckles, “Ok, ok, I wont.”

He lines himself up and pushes into you.

He girthy and bigger than you expected.

Definitely the biggest you’d ever had.

“F-fuck! You’re so fucking tight oh my god.” He’s breathing raggedly.

He sits still in you for a moment until you rock your hips forward.

“Move Sho.” You say.

And he does.

He’s throwing you in insane positions you didn’t even know you could do.

But as his thrusts get sloppier he stops, flipping you over to be in missionary.

“Why’d you stop?” You ask, breathless.

“Shh, im not stopping.” He says.

Suddenly he has you pinned down. Legs spread wide, as he presses over you.

Arms hooked around the backs of your knees as you’re now in a mating press.

He bottoms back out into you.

“Ah! Fuck! Feels s’good Sho!”

He’s selfish. He knows he is.

Who is he to throw you in 8 different positions in the past 40 minutes? Twisting you and contorting you in crazy ways.

It’s your doing. You and him both know that.

You came to Brazil, surprised him, wore a matching set, had your nails done just the way he likes. Not to mention the multiple times you had straight up said you wanted to sleep with him over the course of the night.

He picks up the pace, he’s moving out of you so quickly and harshly, your eyes are rolled into the back of your head.

Your moaning a jumble of his name and other gibberish, which he assumes is supposed to be words.

“Baby,” he speaks through his teeth. “Need ya’ to cum fa’ me. Cant keep going much longer m’self.” Its broken up through his grunts and smacks of his hips onto you.

You werent even really close so it surprised you that his simple words seemed to completely take you over the edge.

You’re shaking and calling his name loudly, nails gripping his sheets.

He continues his rough pace, until he yet again slows down, his groans are getting louder and whiney.

“F-fuck! M’gonna cum!” He’s now folded over you, forehead touching yours.

“In me Sho! Cum in me baby!” You say, moaning at just the thought of him filling you up.

“Ah! Fuck!” He slows his movements down. Adjusting so your legs now rest around his waist. He drops his full weight on you.

Your hands make their way to his hair, playing with it between your fingers.

You’re both breathing heavily.

“Sho?”

“Mm?”

“Can we be boyfriend and girlfriend?”

He shifts his head so his chin is resting on your stomach as he now makes eye contact with you.

“I was just about to ask you that!”

Small, love-drunk and real-drunken giggles fill the room.

The mans breathing slowly gets softer and softer.

Its only when he hums a bit and rubs his face on you, in a weak attempt at getting closer, that you realize he’s in fact asleep.

[variousqueerthings]

keep thinking the Enduring Image of their relationship for me isn't the romantic-looking her reaching for him on the train. it's before that at the peep show

she emotionally fucks with him to such an extent (and for so many days -- i need to think of how much sleep he gets because i think "barely any" about covers it, that man is operating on a loopy fucking brain by the time the train scene happens) that he breaks down sobbing (on his own, the first - and so far last - time we've seen him that broken up) and then gets him to come to a Peep Show to see her -- something that is totally outside of his code of being and his comfort level, and makes everything seedy and transactional between them -- and then the way it's framed puts her in the seat of objectifying him, which was such a narrative and visual Choice

it's the way she's always framed as watching him by the presence of her reflection, but outside of the opening few lines and when she says "i need you" she's always shot like this:

in control of the scene, because after all, she set it all up to be exactly like this and he's doing everything she tells him to. she is objectifying him and not the other way around

(which, is the "i need you" framed with fraser in-shot because she's performing for him as an audience and not for us-the-audience only, and it reiterates that she's not for real....?)

compared with fraser throughout the whole conversation:

on re-watch there are several parts of victoria's side of the dialogue that focus on fraser's reaction to what is being said to him -- the camera is on his tired, distraught face for well over half of the scene. we are watching him like victoria is watching him, through the glass reacting to her words, like he's on display... at a fucking peep show that she made him come to!

meanwhile most of the time when he's speaking we don't know what her in-the-moment reactions to him are, because all of his lines also focus on him. we're deliberately kept as much in the dark about her reactions as possible. it's not an equal back-and-forth, it's her digging in the knife and enjoying his distress (again, and i just cannot get over this, at a peep show)

AND THE SCENE PROPER:

VICTORIA: Hi.

FRASER: You must really hate me for what I did.

VICTORIA: Yeah. Hate. Love. Those two emotions about cover it. FRASER: The girl in the car wreck was your sister.

VICTORIA: She borrowed my car. The police just assumed it was me. I had an opportunity. I took it. Fooled everybody. FRASER: Except Jolly. VICTORIA: Except Jolly. There were only two ways to end that relationship. One of them was with me dead.

FRASER: What do you want, Victoria?

VICTORIA: You. FRASER: No, you don't.

VICTORIA: Why do you think I did all of this?

FRASER: Revenge.

VICTORIA: Maybe. But I need you. I want you to go away with me.

FRASER: You know I can't do that.

VICTORIA: Why not? You don't have much to stick around here for. You won't like prison.

FRASER: I'm sorry.

VICTORIA: [her voice shakes] I'm sorry, too.

[her voice immediately hardens] Because I need you to make an exchange. If you don't, there's a key. This key fits a locker. In this locker is twenty-five thousand dollars in sequentially numbered bills. The key is at your friend Ray's house. You have one hour to decide, and then I call Internal Affairs and tell them where to find it.

[the money runs out and the screen goes down]

also, in my heart, this woman killed her sister. she loves the drama of the Narrative, she came back into fraser's life full of stories she was telling about how she'd take away everything in his life that distracted him from her and she'd leave him no choice but to come with her or go to jail and all of this was definitely love... so yeah, her sister dying in a tragic accident and people just assuming it was her not long after she was released from prison..... doesn't sit right with me considering how much she plans these narratives out + i think fraser's subtle headshake after she tells the whole story suggests that he doesn't buy it either

victoria: my sister mysteriously died and then i just had to kill my old partner in a way that would implicate you so you don't have any choice but to love me, which you owe me anyway because you feel bad about putting me in jail back in the day *bats eyelashes* anyway I'm gonna send your best friend away for life if you don't commit crimes and run away with me... also you're definitely An Object to me

(all of this on the back of a show in which fraser is objectified constantly anyway.... wild)

i guess where i land on the victoria x fraser dynamic is that i wanna notch it up juuuust that little bit more to make it fucked up in a way that i feel like the show was dancing around a bit and not quite committing to, although it did lean on it a fair few times (especially when taking in the conversation with his dead dad where he confronts him). i do feel like -- setting aside that she was a big-time criminal from the beginning -- considering she:

fucked with fraser's head by making him think he'd seen her several times before she actually appeared (and then pretended it was a coincidence, and the thing about fraser is... he trusts people too much, he's an overly literal autism-coded takes-them-at-their-word guy, it's such a good gauge for how easily she can mess with him afterwards, like damn girl, how much did you learn about him back in that snowstorm??)

shot diefenbaker (with intent to kill)

manipulated fraser pretty much the entire time -- pushing his buttons (first playing soft and flustered, then going hard on the guilt which was immediately followed by taking him to bed WHICH IT WAS TRIGGER!SNOWING DURING DAMN, then disappearing and making him desperate to find her, constantly having him running for her right up to the train...)

fucked with his head again by getting rid of all her fingerprints + presumably hair in his flat so that everyone thought he was lying, crazy fucking level of going about all this

destroyed his father's cabin

blackmailed him into putting himself in serious danger, and then attempted to blackmail him further in order to, essentially, force him to come with her (so... attempted kidnapping, with the addition of trying to frame him as a criminal in order to further force his hand)

attempted to frame ray and get him arrested for her crimes, despite promising fraser that she wouldn't do that if he helped her (which, to be fair, at that point he no longer trusted)

there's a lot suggesting that she's just pretty straightforwardly a villain, there's no reason why she wouldn't keep fucking with fraser if he had assented to come with her. there's a lot suggesting that her little "you'll regret not coming with me" is as much a game as everything else she does. there's a lot of material to play with where one could lean into fraser as a deeply lonely person who was easily taken advantage of (after all, it's established he doesn't really "get" what love is supposed to be about -- so why not about all of the above?)

it's just unfortunate that the show ultimately framed as this ships in the night thing or something, and not... just a straightforward fucked up violation on her part. it weakens her presence in the story, assuming she never returns. like i'd want her to be this Force that eats into him and his sense of identity, not as a "what if I'd gotten on the train to run away with my one true love"

(and I like @pigtailedgirl's read of the train as self-destruction in terms of his speech in the episode letting go: "i think you do care. i think you care so deeply that when he betrayed you, you tried to do the only thing that made sense, you tried to destroy yourself. don't let him do that to you." -- it makes that train ending sooo much more full of Stuff)

i can play with it, for sure

[drill-teeth-art]

Wow! Here’s something incredibly personal.

This is Good Bi Gender. A comic I made to express some feelings I have about my gender. I don’t really have that much else to say about it. Here it is.

[Image Description: A digital comic made with sharp, angular abstract lines and only the colors white, blue, pink, and black. The featured character is all white, except for facial features and hair colors, which changes from panel to panel. The comic reads: Cover Panel: The text "Good Bi Gender", the words colored with the trans flag. It shows a glitchy person's face, half pink and half blue. Panel 1: White text reads: "Hello. My name is apparently irrelevant. And my pronouns are he/him and she/her. But you can't call me she/her. And here's why." Someone with a half-pink and half-blue shirt looks to the side. One eye is covered with hair, and the other eye is pink while the iris is blue.

Panel 2: The character sits happily, imagining facial hair and a masculine voice. "I don't want top surgery. I love my chest. And I dream about being on testosterone someday soon." The character looks at a phone, frowning. The phone shows the male symbol with an "X" through it. Text next to it reads: “People don't seem to think that the features I dream of are very pretty though... Or they think even worse of them than that…”

Panel 3: The character’s features are all pink, and sits in a blank frame. The character reaches over to a blue frame, frowning. “I don't like the animosity. I really despise it.” A photo of the character shows an all-blue frame and blue hair, with pink outlines and facial features. “To be a boy... I aspire to be one. I aspire to be masculine in all its handsomeness. All its prettiness.” Panel 4: The character sits in an all blue panel, but reaches back out to the pink panel. “And I'm still a girl too. I was so excited to have both. To love both. To have handsome femininity. Beautiful masculinity.” The frames break and connect, and pink and blue swirl together. The character smiles in between the frames, with one pink eye and one blue eye. “So excited. And yet I get asked…”

Panel 5: Two hands hold out two different pills to the character, one blue and one pink. They ask “Male? or Female?” using the male and female symbols.The character, facial features an array of pink and blue, looks between the two hands, distressed. “It's both! I'm both! They're not opposites. Not narrow boxes. I say I'm both despite the insistence that I can't be. And I know what I look like. I know I look like a girl to most. I know that if I say people can call me she, that's all I will get from most. Because it's "easier". It "makes more sense". To have my masculinity, I am often forced to be unflinching in it and it alone. To never use she. Because if I don't, I will never get to have he.” [The words "she" and "he" are italicized.] Panel 6: Text reads: “I'm still very happy to be so comfortable in my identity. To know, despite all that, that I am indeed a boy and a girl and both. But you know. Telling people to only use he/him for me. Guarding my masculinity all just to have it. All at the expense of the part of me who is happily and unashamedly a girl.” The character cries from one pink eye, the other hidden. The character holds a pink girl in a sea of blue, the girl crying out. In the midst of the blue, text reads: “Well, it fucking breaks her heart.” End ID]

Edit: @starberry-skies wrote an ID for the comic, so I added it to the og post with its permission!

[rumisgf]

❝ THINGS THEY DO THAT GIVE YOU BUTTERFLIES ! ❞ ╰┈➤ MHA EDITION (PART 2!)

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ a/n: y’all wanted a part two i shall give a part two

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ includes: katsuki bakugou, hitoshi shinsou, shoto todoroki, denki kaminari, iida tenya, kirishima eijirou

˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ warnings: black!reader obv, cursing, mentions of drug usage/marijuana, suggestive if u squint, fem reader implied, mentioning of babies/children

BAKUGOU KATSUKI

✮ wipes your tears sort of aggressively but only because he’s so urgent to comfort you and take care of you

✮ always hugs you by your lower waist

✮ when you go to the gym together, he’s the type to always say “c’mon, you can do one more.” or “do three more”

✮ ruffles your hair/flicks your forehead in a teasing way

✮ “act right.”/“watch out.”

✮ doesn’t remind you to drink water— he simply justs brings water bottles up to your mouth and tells you to “open up”

✮ if you have any, he cares for your pets like they’re his own

✮ just something about the sight of him holding a baby

✮ bites you just because he can

✮ pulls you into his lap whenever he’s tired of your attitude

✮ gets super close to your face like he’s gonna kiss you but pulls away just to mess with you

✮ “that’s my girl” in the most proud voice ever every single time

TODOROKI SHOTO

✮ any time he does get high he’s all over you and staring at you with half lidded eyes

✮ it’s just something about the way he curses man.

✮ loves falling asleep on the phone with you and takes facetime photos of you sleeping because he thinks you look like an angel

✮ runs his thumb over your hand whenever you hold hands

✮ loves giving earlobe kisses

✮ will casually be like “when we have kids,”

✮ sends voice memos ranging from something funny that happened in class to how much he misses you and needs to see you

✮ kisses your lip gloss off every chance he gets right after complimenting how nice your lip combo looks

✮ sends you pictures of yourself and says “you look so pretty in this”

✮ him whispering in your ear.

✮ has your contact as the only one pinned in his messages

KIRISHIMA EIJIROU

✮ pats away your tears with his finger instead of wiping them (those who watch love island usa and are kordell + serena fans know what i’m talking about)

✮ places his hand on the small of your waist to guide your somewhere or move you out the way

✮ constant forehead kisses

✮ lifts you up and spins you around when he’s excited to hug you

✮ guides you into the right form when you workout together

✮ runs his hands down your waist and hips when he’s checking you out while you’re right in front of him

✮ him around kids. that’s all.

✮ gives you flowers pretty much every week— and one time he gave you a money bouquet for your birthday

✮ flexes for you when he feels you staring at him and pretends he’s not doing it on purpose

✮ throws his arm around you and presses you flush against his chest when you go to sit on the couch next to him

✮ refers to you as his “wife” to his friends

KAMINARI DENKI

✮ you could have been rotting in bed all day and when he facetimes you he always greets you with something along the lines of “hello my beautiful princess” with a lovesick tone of voice

✮ calls you “mama” and “ma”

✮ obsessed with skinship because he aches to be able to “crawl inside your skin” and just needs to be close to you

✮ blows kisses at you from across the room

✮ for comfort, he runs his fingers through your hair and rocks you back and forth while hugging you

✮ his morning voice :)))

✮ lets you bite him and encourages it

✮ gets very touchy when you’re on his lap

✮ the king of “i know you’re probably asleep, but” texts

✮ goes on rants about how gentle and how well he would care for you when you’re one day pregnant with his children

✮ always calling you his “pretty baby”/“pretty girl”

✮ always posts pretty candid pictures of you and makes heartfelt story posts for every birthday, anniversary, and valentine’s day

HITOSHI SHINSOU

✮ has read for you + sung you to sleep on multiple occasions

✮ grabs you by your chin to force eye contact

✮ “say please”

✮ checks you every time you have an attitude with a smirk on his face

✮ has a habit of biting his lip

✮ says “there you go, babe” way too much.

✮ glares at anyone who flirts with you while tightly wrapping an arm around your waist

✮ has made multiple shared playlists for the both of you

✮ says he’s “gatekeeping” you because you’re just too pretty and he has to keep you to himself

✮ plays with your fingers when he’s bored or nervous

✮ buries his face into your neck to bask in your scent when he hugs you

✮ randomly stares at your for a full five minutes when you’re talking, barely listening to a word you’re saying, then lovingly sighs “i love you so much…”

IIDA TENYA

✮ always opens every door for you

✮ holds your hands while walking across the street or through the hallways

✮ very protective over you and will respectfully cuss anybody out who disrespects you

✮ pretty much has replaced your name is his vocabulary with “honey” and “sweetheart”

✮ never calls you hot— he always calls you beautiful, pretty, gorgeous, or stunning

✮ grabs you by your sleeve or your belt loop to take you somewhere if you don’t hear him call your name the third time

✮ the thought of ever calling you his “bitch” disgusts him, he calls you his lady or his love instead

✮ will immediately grab the nearest box of tissues to wipe your tears or your nose whenever you’re crying

✮ kisses your cheek to greet you and say goodbye

✮ has deep conversations about your future together when you get to that point in the relationship, and is open about how much his heart swells at imagining you as a mother

✮ kisses your forehead when he notices you asleep on his chest

© rumisgf