#comments are still turned off for obvious reasons under his ig but

[mondstalgia]

he's back, I'm gonna cry ♥ (from qio.official)

[jungkxook]

—demon-etized. (m)

⟶ pairing: namjoon x reader

⟶ analytics: youtuber!namjoon / ghost-hunters au / smut

⟶ words: 6,260

⟶ rating: 18+

⟶ warnings: idiot ghost hunter bts, ghosts making namjoon horny ig?, slight exhibitionism, fondling, fingering, standing sex, unprotected sex, creampie

⟶ description: in this episode of unsolved, namjoon and the boys risk their lives by spending overnight in an abandoned and supposedly haunted asylum in the hopes of finding some ghouls — but the boys are pretty certain the real reason for the spooky moaning isn’t allowed to go on youtube. ***warning: very scary!!!***

⟶ pinned comment: this is part of the not clickbait series!

“Well, this has been fun. Let’s go home now.”

You were starting to think this was a very stupid idea ━ but stupid would be an understatement. The looming asylum standing before you with nothing but the darkened midnight sky in the foreground acts as a foreboding omen that you’ve seen one too many times in pretty much any horror movie. The creepy abandoned estate offering itself up as a seemingly perfect and totally innocent means of adventure for a group of friends only to end in murder or a demon possession should have been enough to scare you all away. Fortunately, you’re not the only somewhat sane person (and you say that very loosely because you did, after all, agree to come with the boys), because you’re both startled yet thoroughly relieved to hear the worried statement coming from a very tense-looking Jimin.

It really was a stupid idea. Spending overnight (which, really, just translates to a few hours and a clickbait-y title for the video) in a supposedly haunted and derelict asylum from the early 1900s offered all sorts of problems that weren’t just supernatural. Squatters, creepy cult members, and risking getting whatever sorts of diseases are riddling the walls of the ancient dwelling were starting to get to you. But it was Namjoon’s idea to come here for his next video upload especially when considering the fact that for the entire month of October he and his group of YouTuber friends host a fan favourite ghost-hunting series titled Unsolved ━ and, whatever Namjoon usually suggests, the boys usually tag along with, no matter how daring or how stupid it may be.

“We literally just got here,” Hoseok retorts as he hops out of one of the two cars you and your friends had shared on the way here. It was a three hour drive from the city with the estate being much larger than you expected it to be, four main buildings sprawling out amongst empty fields. At least the stories of its creepy atmosphere are all the same. Was it the cool autumn breeze sending chills down your spine or something else entirely? The moment you stepped foot out of the car and gazed upon the asylum, it was almost as if you could feel something watching you. But that was definitely just you imagining things. “Don’t be a pussy, Jimin. What’s the worst a ghost is gonna do to you? Rattle some chains? Ooooh, spooky.”

“Okay, first of all,” Jimin rounds on the older boy almost immediately, “vaginas are the strongest muscles in female anatomy, so I’m not being a pussy. Let’s get it right, okay? I’m being a little bitch, and I embrace it. Second of all, if a ghost does rattle some chains near me, I will definitely be booking it back to the car and leaving all of you stranded here.”

From beside you, Yoongi snorts amusedly. He’s the resident non-believer amongst your group of friends so you always wonder why he even bothers to come to these things. He says it’s to help filming, but you think he’s banking on maybe one day seeing a ghost even despite all that charade of hostility. Even now, he’s already filming for the vlog, getting shots of the building but also mostly just Jimin and Hoseok’s banter in the background. “If a ghost does anything tonight, I’ll be genuinely surprised.”

“Something is going to happen tonight. I can feel it,” Jungkook says confidently. He’d been huddled over the opened side door of one of the cars with Namjoon and Jin, sifting through their high-tech equipment that you’re certain they just bought off of Amazon or something. “This place is one of the most haunted places near us. Have you even heard the stories? Apparently there are two most popular ghost sightings. One is some girl━”

“Is she hot?” Taehyung asks.

“She’s dead,” Jungkook deadpans. “Also, pretty sure she was eleven when she died from tuberculosis. Anyway, she’s more of a benevolent ghost. They say you can hear her laughing sometimes. There’s a lot of activity in one of the kids’ rooms. And the other sighting is less friendly. They just call it a shadow man because it’s hard to see its face, but you can always see an outline of a person walking by in one of their treatment buildings. There’s even been physical attacks, with one person saying they got scratched by an invisible force.”

Jimin visibly winces. “Sounds very much like a demon than a ghost to me.”

“Sick!” Hoseok exclaims. You’re worried to find that the group’s morale (aside from yours and Jimin’s) isn’t any less vivacious than when Jungkook started his story. “This is gonna be awesome.”

But you can’t help but to roll your eyes, your feigned boredom really just a weak attempt at hiding your own fright. “Oh, shut up. That’s such bullshit.”

“Is it?” Jungkook quirks a brow, challenging you.  

“Well, whatever happens, we’re gonna catch it.” This confident statement comes from Namjoon. After he hands out the pieces of tech to the rest of his friends, he glances upward at the asylum with a mischievous twinkle in his eyes. “Come on. Let’s find us some ghosties.”

As the group begins to follow Namjoon towards the nearest building, Taehyung can be heard wolfishly quipping aloud, “Time to rock and roll, ghoul boys! And, er, girl.”

“Don’t call us that,” Yoongi grumbles.

It’s comforting to hear the rest of the group erupt into fits of entertained laughter, but any banter is quick to subside as you walk up to the building. You’re relieved when Jimin decides to hang back with you and doesn’t seem to protest when you start to cling to his arm as you’re all ushered through the main entrance of the building and into utter darkness only broken apart by the dim glow of your flashlights. If you weren’t already so frightened, maybe some of it would be comical, like the way the front doors creak open so very slowly in suspense.

Under Jimin’s breath, you can hear him mumbling in chagrin, “We should have gotten holy water.”

As your eyes adjust to the darkness within, you’re able to make out that the inside is just as horrifying as it was on the outside. Dust and debris hang heavy in the air and on the ground, and almost every inch of any surface within the building is covered in graffiti works of art. 

“Oh, fuck that,” Jin scoffs. “We only just stepped foot into here and this place is already giving me goosebumps.”

“Aw, sweet, bro! Check this out!” Hoseok says abruptly, startling almost all of you. He’s standing a bit further off down one hall, beckoning the rest of the group to follow. As you approach him, you can make out what sort of graffiti marking on the ground has suddenly grabbed his attention. “Who wants to lay on the pentagram with me?”

“No one,” You retort.

“I will!” Jungkook says at once, much to your dismay.

Yoongi lets out an audible strained sigh. “If any of you fucks get possessed and kill me, I’m never gonna forgive any of you. Just letting you know ahead of time.”

“Yeah, what are you gonna do?” Hoseok asks. “Come back and haunt us?”

“No, I’ll be dead. Ghosts aren’t real,” Yoongi says. “But I will still be very angry.”

“Noted.”

Before Jungkook or Hoseok can haggle Yoongi into filming them laying on the pentagram drawing and potentially offering their souls up to whatever demon lays waiting beneath it for their souls, the group is moving on. You explore the first bottom half of the building together in a tense silence before making your way up the dilapidated stairs to one of the treatment rooms that Jungkook makes certain to point out is where the infamous shadow figure is often seen. Taehyung decides to suggest, “Should we try the spirit box?”

You almost groan aloud. You fucking hate that thing, for obvious reasons. 

Whether or not you believe in it, the loud gurgling noise is always unsettling and you’re already on edge. Still, you sit back with Jimin as the rest of the boys nod in agreement and fiddle with the piece of tech until it’s been turned on. You’re immediately met with a cacophony of crackling radio static so deafening that your instinctual reaction is to cover your ears. You refrain miraculously, but you still cower in one corner with Jimin as the boys listen intently to the noise.

“Is anyone here?” Namjoon calls out to no one in particular. “If you are, can you give us a sign? Move a chair or say something or push Yoongi━”

“What the━?” Yoongi gawks. “Why me?”

“‘Cause you said you don’t believe in them.”

Yoongi clamps his mouth shut, and nods in a way that admits Namjoon has a point. At that moment, there’s a pique in the static, a jumble of inaudible words that almost sounds humanlike.

“What was that?” Hoseok asks. “Sounded like… It almost sounded like it said ‘leave.’”

“Leave?” Jimin squeaks. “Think we should take that as a sign, guys.”

“Nah, I definitely heard Steve, not leave,” Yoongi says.

Jungkook frowns. “Who the hell is Steve?”

“Maybe that’s his name,” Yoongi suggests nonchalantly. “Be nice.”

After a handful of minutes of even more strained silence, the boys are only able to discern certain words that you’re positive don’t have anything to do with the asylum or ghosts. At long last, they shut the machine off and the room is once more plunged into a formidable silence so dense that you almost miss the spirit box. But almost as soon as the piece of tech has been silenced, does Jimin cry out in pure anguish. “What the fuck was that?”

The boys instantly round on their startled friend who is now cowering behind you. The colour has all but drained from his face, eyes wide in a frenzied panic.

“What’s wrong?” Namjoon asks.

Jimin looks hysterical as he shoves a pointed finger in the direction of the wall opposite the room in the corridor. “I swear on my life I just saw something move out of the corner of my eye over there. Like a-a person o-or something. Looked like a shadow. I don’t know! I thought it was one of you guys━”

“Stop it, Jimin.” Your voice treads on apprehension as you look over at the alarmed boy. “You’re scaring me.”

“Yeah, ease up, Jimin,” Namjoon says, though he seems more entertained than anything. “I’d prefer if you didn’t throw my girlfriend headfirst towards a demon or ghost or whatever it is you saw.”

“Joon.” His name rolls off your tongue in a scolding moan as you rub wearily at your eyes. His words do little to help console you, and you’re certain it fairs even worse for poor Jimin.

“I’m sorry. I just━” Jimin pulls you tighter in front of him. “I swear I saw something. Holy shit.”

Jungkook’s the first one outside the room, his own camera in his hands as he goes to investigate. As the rest of the boys file outside in the corridor, you drag Jimin along with you, favouring not to be alone in any part of the building. You can hardly see anything, let alone a shadow. 

Jungkook turns back around at long last, a devious grin on his face as he finds Jimin’s wandering crazed stare. “Maybe it was the shadow man. Told you he exists.”

“I don’t care what it was. My heart almost fell out of my ass,” Jimin gasps. He clutches at his chest over his heart, for added emphasis. “Let’s get out of here.”

You aren’t quite sure if the boys believe him, but you do notice how quick they are to move on from the room and corridor. A palpable tension hangs heavy in the air that makes you realize perhaps the boys are starting to lose their cool under pressure. 

As you reconvene below on the main floor of the building, Namjoon pipes up. “Let’s split up. See if we can find anything on our own.”

“Okay, Scooby Doo,” Jin snorts. “You do know that this is how every horror movie begins, right? There’s power in numbers.”

“Yeah. Which is what we’ll all be saying when this video reaches trending on YouTube with a million views,” Namjoon says, matter-of-fact. “Which we can only do if we get some interesting content. So, let’s split up into pairs of two. We’ll meet back here in an hour.”

“We could just fake it,” Jimin suggests desperately. “Like every big YouTuber does. The magic of editing, guys.” But no one seems to be listening anymore as the group begins to splinter off. Yoongi and Jungkook decide to venture back upstairs in pursuit of the elusive and supposed shadow man, while Hoseok and Taehyung wander outside. Lost and dumbfounded, Jimin gawks around at his retreating friends, calling out in one last effort, “Anyone? …No? Okay, cool.”

He nearly lets out a yelp when Jin clasps a hand on the boy’s shoulder in a reassuring manner. “You’ll be okay, Jimin. C’mon, let’s go.”

Finally alone with Namjoon, he offers up his outstretched hand to you. You take it at once, gripping his palm a little tighter than necessary as he pulls you towards him. 

“You doing okay?” he asks. 

“Yeah,” You lie, even though you know he can see right through it. 

You’re content to find that he at least keeps your hand in his even as he tugs you along with him to explore the rest of the asylum. You decide to leave the building you’re both in and wander to another one where you stumble upon Hoseok and Taehyung on the main floor briefly. Then, making your way upstairs, you find nothing out of the ordinary but empty rooms that you suspect were once upon a time sleeping quarters for the patients. It’s less frightening than the other buildings, though still a little unnerving the longer you stay to explore. You climb the stairs until you’re on the third landing and inspect almost every room to find nothing. 

At some point, you let out a wavering sigh. Namjoon is busy waving around an EMF reader in a room. It’s empty aside from a dusty cot and a broken wardrobe, amongst a few other oddities covered in a thick layer of cobwebs and dirt. You could have sworn you’ve heard footsteps in almost every room you’ve entered that wasn’t either yours or Namjoons, and the strange sensation that you’re being followed hasn’t been able to shake from you. “Joon? Can we go back now? I’m starting to get a little spooked.”

Namjoon comes to a halt at once, turning around to face you. He gives your palm a comforting squeeze. “Hey, you’re okay. There’s nothing to be scared of. I don’t mean to sound like Yoongi but I highly doubt we have to worry about any ghosts.”

“Well, what do you think Jimin saw?”

“Who knows?” Namjoon shrugs. “It was probably just his imagination. Your mind plays tricks on you in the dark, doesn’t it? Here, let’s talk about something else to distract you.”

“Like?”

A moment of silence passes between the two of you as Namjoon considers another thought. You don’t even realize the smug smirk unfurling on his face until it’s too late. “Well… I had an idea earlier. Just a passing thought, really, but I bet it’d be fun anyway.”

“What was it?”

“We could probably have a quickie in one of these rooms and the boys would never know any different.”

You nearly choke at this, sputtering for air as you reach out to flick Namjoon’s shoulder. “You’re unbelievable.”

“Am I wrong?”

“No,” You admit sheepishly. He places his hands on your hips then, pulling you delicately towards him in a manner that makes it hard to focus now. “But I don’t know how I feel about ghosts watching us. Also, the couple that has sex in any horror movie usually ends up dying first.”

Namjoon shakes his head at you, albeit a little amused at your worrisome thoughts. “Nothing’s gonna hurt you. At least not while I’m here.”

“Coming from the man who tripped going up the stairs at your dorm the other day,” You point out tauntingly. The distant reminder and the sound of his abrupt laughter is enough to momentarily soothe your hammering heart. 

Namjoon gasps, feigning a look of mock hurt. “What’s that supposed to mean!”

“Means I love you very much but I don’t know how well you’d fair against ghosts or demons.”

“Ahh, I see how it is.” 

He sounds mildly offended and pokes his fingers at your sides but, in the ensuing scuffle to flee from his grasp, the both of you trip and fumble until you’re pressed up against the nearest wall, the sound of your snickers like music to his ears. He comes colliding against your front, hands digging into your hips. He leans forward to kiss your lips slowly, feeling you smile against him. A delightful chuckle bubbles at your mouth and he parts from you in the next moment wiggling his brows suggestively while a teasing smirk stretches at his face so wide, his dimples start to poke through.

“Wanna?” he asks. 

It’s a simple question, weighing heavy with dirty implications ━ and honestly? You’re kind of into it. Or maybe that’s just because he returns to kissing at your lips, only this time at the corners of your mouth, then the underside of your jaw. Tantalizing motions that seem to make your head spin violently. Your head lolls back against the wall behind you as he droops his head to your neck, lips meeting with the soft flesh of your throat to suck a delicate blossoming hickey there.

“Okay,” You rasp, “so maybe we can spare some time for this.”

“Ah, so now you’re interested.” His voice is huskier now, muffled by the way he busies himself by nipping at the same spot on your throat. He hears your breath hitch, feels the way you part your legs just slightly enough to have him sink further against you. He marvels at your decision in the morning to throw on a skirt and a pair of thick wool tights. At the time, you had said it was because the weather wasn’t too brisk outside just yet; now, he was thanking you silently for unknowingly picking just the right outfit for the occasion. 

“Namjoon…” Your voice is strained now, a mix between a plea and a whine and he grunts against your neck.

It takes Namjoon a moment to rack his brain, realizing that he finds it hard to even form a proper sentence anymore. “Don’t even need to feel my dick in you. Just wanna get you off, baby. Can I?”

You’re already practically drooling. “Think the boys will notice if we’re gone a little longer?” 

“Who cares?” Namjoon quips. “Jimin’ll probably think we got possessed and lost in the demon world or something.”

You giggle, though your voice splinters off into a soft moan as he continues to nip and suck at your neck. His hand falls to your thighs then, fingers brushing upward faintly until he meets the short hem of your skirt before disappearing beneath it. His hand comes to grasp at the delicate curve of your ass, his palm hot and firm against your soft flesh. 

He groans into your neck. “Been dying all night to touch you.”

“Then don’t stop.”

If the way his hardening cock now forms against your inner thigh any inclination, you don’t think he has plans on doing so. Instead, you watch as he lifts his free hand to your mouth, fingers tapping at your lips in a wordless motion. “Open up.”

You do as you’re told, lips parting just enough to wrap around his two fingers. He gazes at you with hooded eyes as you suck at his digits, tongue laving against the sturdy form in your mouth until his fingers are coated thick with your saliva. His other hand, still attached to the rump of your ass, moves like water over your skin to your thigh once more, nudging you aside just enough, pinching delicately at the skin there; he pulls his fingers from your mouth then, then lets the same hand venture under your skirt in a similar fashion. He wastes no time in pushing aside the material of your panties, pressing his digits at your core, watchful eyes staying fixated on yours if only to watch your every expression. His dampened fingers slide over your folds, spreading them open, running across them, admiring the way your stickiness already forms between your legs. 

“Joon…” You cling to him tighter, both to steady yourself against the sudden ministrations and to shield yourself more from view, though you’re certain there’s a slim chance the boys will come across you and Namjoon like this. You hope.

Namjoon’s fingers slip past your folds then, slow and steady as he feels the tight constricting walls of your cunt. You throb around him, thinking only of his cock, imagining the girth of it fitting snug deep within you. The similar stretch of your walls, the fluid motion of his length burrowing in and out of you, wrecking you into shambles. Now, Namjoon wriggles his fingers upward, scratching at a spot within you that has you writhing against him, the slick wetness of your arousal sufficiently coating his fingers. His thumb finds your clit then, running small circles against the small bundle of nerves.

“So wet,” Namjoon moans, resting his forehead against yours. He notes the way your teeth sink into your lower lip, and pulls his free hand out from under your skirt to tap his fingers against your chin. “Gonna moan for me, baby? Let the boys hear you? Maybe wake the dead?”

“You’re such a brat,” You simper through a shuddering breath, and if you weren’t so consumed by him then maybe you would have laughed at the joke he manages to squeeze in at the last moment. But he’s not wrong. What’s the point in keeping silent in an abandoned building that you’re positive only you and your friends are currently occupying? How much longer do you expect to keep quiet, when the way he’s making you feel begins to slowly burn at your insides? 

He curls his fingers deep in you, and your jaw unhinges in a silent gap. You wonder how long you can last, face burning with every passing second as he fingers you closer and closer to your high. Your hips jut outward to meet his hand with every motion, grinding against his knuckles in a desperate need to get off. You’re shameless about it too, fingers gripping his shirt tightly, brows scrunched together in hardened dedication. 

“Such a pretty little mess,” Namjoon hums. “Want you to cum on my hand, baby girl.”

“Fuck, Namjoon━” You whimper now, head lulling back as he twists his fingers further in you. 

But, as soon as you do so, the echoing sound of footsteps has your eyes darting to the darkened corridor. You make out the sound of oblivious chatter, and the familiar voices of Taehyung and Hoseok echoing from somewhere down below. They must be two floors down, though you can hear them screaming at nothing in particular, except for a string of profanities that meet your ears.

“Jesus, fuck!” That definitely sounds like Taehyung, voice shrill with worry. 

“Chill!” There’s Hoseok, but you think he was also screaming moments ago with Taehyung. “It’s just a spider.”

“I don’t care! Get it off of me!”

“Bunch of dumbasses,” Namjoon shakes his head rigidly, a fleeting grin forming on his face that is quick to fade as he curls his fingers upwards further into you. And, while your attention is somewhat fixated on the boys, you find yourself treading a fine line of not giving a fuck as Namjoon’s fingers stay buried deep within your cunt. Still, Namjoon can sense the slight urgency in your demeanor when your hands wind around his neck to tug at his hair, as if to gesture to the strangers that he already knows are nearby. 

“It’s okay,” he murmurs reassuringly, voice low enough for only you to hear. “You’re doing so good, love.”

He slows his fingers almost to a halt as you burrow your face in the crook of his neck. Your walls continue to clench around his fingers, and he adds a third finger to stretch you out just enough in a teasing leisure manner. He does it on purpose too, this much you know for certain, as he pinches playfully at your waist. It’s lewd, the idea of him fingering you out in public like this but the emboldened adrenaline coursing through your veins doesn’t want him to stop. By now, your high overwhelms everything else, causing you to writhe against Namjoon as he cradles you to him. You cum moments later, your orgasm overcoming you before you can sense it, trembling beneath his hands as he continues to finger you through it. Warm, wet arousal leaks from your core, coats his fingers all over as a punctuating whimper of his name tumbles from your lips.

“That’s it, baby,” he says gently. “Let everyone hear how dirty you are. Let it all out.”

Your thighs shake, squeezing shut around his hand, and all he can do is rub soothing circles into your hips with his free hand. He waits for your breath to steady, as the coil in your belly loosens, instead taking the time to admire you to your fullest, drunken hooded eyes glazed over in that perfect expression he loves.

“Want your cock in me now, Joon,” You whine breathlessly. The whining persistence in your voice excites Namjoon, only amplified tenfold by the way you begin nipping and sucking at his neck. 

“Now?” he asks.

“Now.”

Almost instantly, there’s a noticeable shift in his expression, a shit-eating smirk tugging at his mouth. You smother the rest of it before it can become too smug, folding your lips over his. Still, he hums through your eager kissing, “Yeah? Gonna let me fuck you like this, love? Take you raw against this wall, right here, right now?”

“Yes, please,” You mewl. Growing restless, you beg silently, “Namjoon.”

“Better make it quick then, hm?” 

You can only nod, still in a daze from the orgasm that still courses through your veins. Namjoon’s quick to oblige, pulling his hands from your heat and wiping your slick wetness off on his thigh. Clumsy hands between the both of you fumble to undo the button of his jeans, hastily undoing them just enough to free his straining cock from within. He wedges himself between your legs, hiking your skirt farther up your thighs, and he hurries to free his length from its confinements, wild locks spilling out onto his forehead and into your own line of sight. You push his hair up and away from his face, though your fingers grip suddenly at the roots of his locks when he grips your thigh and hoists it up to his hip, and then pushes himself into you at once, the tip of his warm cock easily coaxed by your already wet walls. He moans into your neck but muffles it halfheartedly by kissing along your throat.

“Easy there, boy,” You snicker, though your own words are a weak drunken slur, drowning out into a muffled whimper as he thrusts himself into you all the way. His hips meet yours roughly, grinding against you as your walls stretch around his throbbing cock.

“I’m needy,” he whines. “Just wanna feel you around me.”

He wastes no time in moving again, pulling his hips back only to thrust into you, adopting a steady fluid pace in such a way that has your head lolling back against the wall, and your mouth popping open in a silent moan as you shift beneath him. The wall of the building behind you is rough and jagged but you don’t feel it, not with the way he continues to thrust into you. His fingers dig into the flesh of your thigh, stretching you apart in such a way that has him pummeling his length into your core just right. 

“Fuck,” he grunts into your neck. Impatient hands move to yank your shirt up to your chest, pulling your bra down just enough for your breasts to pop out. He moves to leave a wet trail of kisses to your breasts, catching one of your nipples between his teeth and sucking harshly at it. The new sensation has your own walls clenching around him, and he almost comes undone then. Against your chest, you can hear him murmur breathlessly, “You feel so fucking good, baby.”

“Mmm,” You tug harshly at the roots of his hair. An unabashedly loud moan nearly tumbles from your lips before you can bite it back. Elsewhere, you can hear the sound of faint footsteps once more in the far distance, Taehyung and Hoseok much closer this time (quite possibly on the same floor as you, but the opposite end), but you don’t seem to care much anymore about the potentiality of being caught. “Fuck, Namjoon━”

“You like being fucked like this?” he rasps. “Out in public, for anyone to see?”

You feebly muster a nod, lips parting in a silent moan safe for the sound of your hot panting in his ear. Hurried yet deep shuddering strokes, he fucks into you again and again until your head is spinning. Every thrust sends a jolt up your spine and, still riddled by your first high, your body is quick to turn into shambles beneath him. Your hands flail outward to grasp onto every inch of his body, hands slithering beneath the material of his shirt, fingernails to dig crescent shapes into his torso, then snaking downward to grasp at his bum, pulling him in closer each time he rolls his hips into yours.

“Joon…” Your voice is an exhausted moan when it meets his ear. He almost doesn’t hear it, instead too caught up in the way your panting breaths mingle with the crude wetness of his cock delving past your folds each time. Somewhere, once more, in the distance even closer this time is the sound of footsteps once more. The thought of someone walking in one you like this━Namjoon wedged between your thighs, drilling his leaking cock into your wet cunt and tearing you to utter shambles━does something chaotically good to you. “Not gonna last.”

“Me neither,” he gasps. “Don’t care. Just wanna cum. Just wanna feel you cum around me.”

His thrusts begin to tread into sloppy territory, fervently itching to get both of you off. You reach your second high first, tumbling towards it with open arms. You can’t contain yourself, the tempting moan dancing upon the tip of your tongue, burning in your throat as your orgasm twists at your belly. “Fuck, baby, I’m gonna━” 

But your voice splinters off into a delicious sounding whimper. Wary of being caught by your wandering friends when you’re both so close to being undone (because, really, the idea of someone else hearing you whimper because of how good his cock is exhilarates him), Namjoon’s hand clamps over your lips and you welcome it graciously, favouring the idea of his fingers poking into your mouth so that you have something to distract your moaning. It still comes, broken and inaudible, smothered by Namjoon’s hand, as your tongue lavs around his digits. 

Now, you’re truly a sight to behold, making Namjoon’s length twitch amongst your walls. Exhausted, fucked out eyes gawk at him, too weak to carry on, instead jutting your hips forward to meet his with each thrust. 

“Shit,” he whines. “Fuckin’ hell, Y/N━”

He comes moments later, frantic slaps of his own hips having him spilling his seed sloppily into your already wet cunt. The abrupt sensation as your own walls clenching so impossibly tight around him, he feels as if he can’t move, though it’s not as if he immediately plans to. Instead, after a few more rocky thrusts into you to ride out both of your highs, he collapses against your chest and you smooth your fingers delicately through his hair. 

It’s a miracle when you both manage to finally pry themselves off of one another. As Namjoon hurries to tuck himself back into his jeans, you fidget with your bra and shirt, and then the hem of your skirt, tugging it as low as it can go. His cum is still warm and sticky between your legs, slowly beginning to run down your inner thighs. 

You catch him looking at some point and ask curiously, “What?”

“Nothing,” he says innocently. “Just wondering how you still manage to look so beautiful even after having my cum fucked in you.”

You roll your eyes as you reach out to ruffle his messy hair in an attempt to tame the damage you’ve caused. He smiles wide at the effort anyway. 

“Decent?” he asks.

“Good enough,” You say. “Now, let’s find the boys before anyone notices we were gone for too long.”

And this, he doesn’t disagree with.

Later, when you and Namjoon have regrouped with the rest of the boys back by the cars parked outside the asylum, everyone looks a little more on edge than when you left them. Except for maybe you and Namjoon. You wonder if the boys notice, judging by the way you and Namjoon keep giggling amongst yourselves.

“So,” Jungkook says, “did you guys find anything?”

“Nothing,” Jin admits. “Just freaked out Jimin a little bit more.”

The boy in question can be seen scowling to himself, arms folded over his chest. “All I gotta say is screw this place.”

Hoseok looks indifferent as he reviews a recording on the camera in his hands. When he speaks, his voice is a casual drawl. “Dunno. Thought we heard some suspiciously loud moaning from one part of that building that I’m almost positive Namjoon and Y/N were exploring.”

At this, Taehyung bursts out into wolfish laughter, only prompted further by your sudden horrified expression that you try to play off nonchalantly and fail miserably at doing. So they had heard you two after all? “Ha! They sure were exploring something.”

While the rest of the boys look either intrigued or rightfully confused, Namjoon shakes his head defiantly. “Nah, I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Yeah, sure.”

Resisting the urge to hide behind your hands, you bite your tongue and try to sift through your brain for something else to discuss. Over the childish giggling sounding from Taehyung and Hoseok, you ask, “Well, did you guys find anything? Thought we heard you exploring the third floor.”

“Third floor?” Hoseok echoes, dumbfounded. “We didn’t get that far.”

“But I could have sworn I heard you guys.”

Hoseok’s brows knit together. He exchanges a look with Taehyung, then returns his stare to you. “You probably heard Tae screaming like a lunatic because a spider was on him. We were only in there long enough to try the spirit box out again, but that was on the second floor. Then the spider thing happened. Then, we left.”

Now, this is alarming. You gap at the boys as your mind tries to piece together the puzzles of this dilemma. Had you heard the boys, or perhaps something else entirely? Or maybe it was just your imagination. Namjoon did say your mind plays tricks on you ━ but the sound of footsteps had been so vivid. 

Even Namjoon looks stupefied, gawking at Hoseok. “Wait, you’re not joking, are you?”

“No,” Taehyung shakes his head. “We were filming the whole time. We can show you. Are you guys joking?”

“No,” You promise. “We were━ Erm━ We got distracted. We weren’t really paying much attention but━”

You’re fortunate when Yoongi decides to speak up, interrupting your embarrassed stammering. “So then what did you guys hear…?

A beat of silence passes amongst your group of friends. One-by-one, you each turn to look up at the haunting asylum still standing behind you, the night blurring its shape into one incomprehensible monstrosity. Okay, so maybe the ghost stories about this place are true. A shiver runs down your spine. 

Then━

“So does that mean the ghost is a Peeping Tom or━?” Jungkook asks. You wonder if you should be concerned by his serious tone.

The boys howl with laughter at the thought, though you’re still admittedly a little shaken up by the idea of a ghost watching you and Namjoon bone. Maybe you asked for it, what with deciding to have a quickie in a haunted asylum. 

“I don’t know, but can we please get out of here?” You press thinly. “Jimin was right. Screw this place.”

If the boys are as deeply unsettled by yours and Namjoon’s sudden revelation, you don’t know. You all manage to pack up your belongings and clamber in the cars in record timing, speeding away from the asylum unscathed. And if you really did just witness a ghost encounter, then you suppose it isn’t all that bad. 

At the very least, Namjoon’s video does make it to the trending page.

⟶ All rights reserved to © jungkxook. I do not allow reposting, translating, or any sort of modifying and reuploading of my work.

⟶ Feedback is always appreciated!

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

Yo, so I flew through Wrong Number, Asshole (which is 😙👌) and I thought his quirk going off over the phone was so cute. But do you think he’d be insecure about it??? Like about holding hands or trying to keep it together if his s/o says something embarrassing? And what else do you think would he be embarrassed about with s/o?

omg tysm!!! i love writing that story so much so i’m glad u enjoy it!!! we do love a good soulmate au here hehe

aNd wow what a good ask thank u for this im obsessed with it and this is gonna be soooo long omg soz

-okay so first. yes. 100,, 10000% embarrassed about it. he feels like he should have his shit together with his quirk since it’s what Bakugou’s so proud of,,,, and like that’s mostly true???

-except i personally hc that his quirk also ties into intense emotion the same way regular sweating does,,, like, if he feels rlly strongly about something, instead of normal sweating it’s just straight nitroglycerin. and he has to like actively learn how to get a handle on it as he grows too!! so like anxiety sweating? sure he’s got it under control, been there done that. scared sweating?? only gets scared in battle and he’s already exploding things by then so its all good. but love???

-oml has no iDEA how to handle it!! i fully believe bakugou’s idiotic mad brain doesn’t fall easy, but when he does , he falls hARD. so lets say he has a major major crush for the first time ever, and he’s just sweating everywhere and his skin feels like it’s on fire - mans just pops. like a bacon griddle. not full on explosions bc he’s not actively setting them off ,, but if u do something cute, something that gets his heart racing just right he’ll pop

-i kinda imagine it’s bc Bakugou can’t understand what he’s feeling bc he’s a big dumb angry person so instead of just accepting his crush he’s like “oh. my palms are exploding by themselves. and i think about s/o constantly. huh. both things at the same time must mean i want to fight them- yeah that’s it. i just wanna fight ‘em real bad.” which only leads to more little explosions.

-pLeasE heLP hIm

-but anyways, you better not say a sinGle thing about this if u see it or hear it. bc man’s is not one to be embarrassed without putting up a fight,,, and this is about explosions , something he knows,,, so he’ll be like “yeah? wanna fuckin’ make fun of me, huh? i’ll show u what to fuckin’ make fun of!” and then just decide to set off a close range explosion in his hands or blow something near u up to high hell

-what can i say, he’s an idiot??

-congratulate katsuki on the explosion tho,, tell him it was really big and scary and thats when you’ll get him reaLLY embarrassed and keep him embarrassed

-speaking of hand holding tho,, he’ll be super nervous to try at first. like he doesn’t want u to end up feeling the little pops bc you’ll ask and then he’ll have to embarrassed and explain and he just isn’t a fan of that idea alright?? quickly comes to realize tho, as he experiences it, that if you hold his hand you’ll actually smother the little explosions??? like just- nothing will happen bc there’s not enough oxygen for anything to combust unless he makes it combust. which he won’t. obviously.

-oooO and here’s sum other “embarrassing” things he does that you’re ~not allowed~ to comment on

will stare in private. just generally zone out and stare at you- don’t say anything tho!!! bc otherwise he’ll get all huffy and “what the hell are you even makin’ that stupid shit up for! I’d never be caught dead starin’ at an idiot like you” - all said while still simultaneously staring at you.

tries to impress you. like if other people are around that he think u might like, he’ll challenge them to like weird physical feats or intelligence tests or he even somehow turns telling jokes into a competition??? and he’s so competitive it’s obvious too, but u can’t say anything about it. just let him express his love through borderline violence and victory lust ig bc there’s pretty much no stopping him

will cook food for you. don’t comment on how good it tastes tho bc for some reason he finds how much he wants to take care of u majORLY embarrassing

being physically affectionate. man’s almost never grows the balls to initiate hugs or hand-holding or cuddling bc he finds it mega embarrassing to be needy so if he does?? and then you make a joke like “oh, you’re so clingy today, huh” ?? man’s will throw u away from him and never touch u again unless u ask, so just don’t say anything. pleASE

remembering small details. Bakugou’s actually pretty smart and if he likes u then he actually listens to what you have to say,,, this means he’ll remember 3 weeks ago when u said u had a test that day, and ask u about it when he sees u- don’t say any “oh! im suprised u remembered!’ or anything tho,, he’ll get huffy

-and finally, here is a lil list, as a bonus just for u my love, of normal person behaviors that you do that ??somehow?? embarrass immature and emotionally-stunted bakugou katsuki:))

If he sees you do anything embarrassing like trip, or drop food on yourself, or swallow a drink the wrong way and end up coughing, etc.,, if it was literally anyone else Bakugou would just laugh, loudly, bc he’s an ass,, but ur not just anyone else. ur his s/o and suddenly seeing you do that stuff feels so intimate!! esp bc he would’ve never even seen if in the first place if he wasnt paying so much attention to u!!!

saying hi to him first when he’s with other people. like, example, lets say he’s with the bakusquad and they’re just all just hanging out in the common room, right,, so u walk in, see them all sitting there and wave, but u say “Hi bakugou, hi guys!” just bc u were excited to see him. man’s will go rED SO FAST AND HIDE HIS FACE

bending down to tie your shoes. no explanation needed- he’s a guy.

if you go to the store and ask him if he needs anything. it’s literally so simple but for some reason his heart just seizes?? like?? ur thinking about him the same way he thinks about u all the time???? and ur concerned enough to get him something if he needs it??? please he’s goNe, just a whole-ass pile of blushing

if you’re sitting in a group and you look at him everytime something funny is said. bc ofc he’s already going to be looking at u to see ur reaction, so when ur eyes meet and you’re laughing and smiling bakugou just gets so flustered!!!

wearing an outfit he knows nobody else has seen before. this could be new clothes, his clothes, pajamas, old clothes u wouldn’t wear in public, even halloween costumes before a party???- point is, if Bakugou knows nobody else has seen you like that, and only he gets to?? boy is sO SOFT and embarrassed about it

tysm again!! this was such a fun ask!!!! <333

[jingabitch]

Plugged Up

SUMMARY: Tae and Jimin return from the army, and you fulfill a promise made to Tae.

RATING: E

A/N: went on hiatus but almost immediately wrote this LOL. it got finished a lot earlier than I expected because my wifi went out for a couple of hours yesterday and I had nothing better to do.

Big thank you to my betas @knjkitten​ @astrobabezblog​ @xoxrinaxox (tumblr wont let me tag) for looking through this for me!

WARNINGS: implicit yandere (the verse is yandere, but this is a pwp so it’s not too apparent here) | smut | reunion sex | breeding kink | sloppy seconds | threesome (ig?)

WORD COUNT: 3.5k

series index

For Taehyung, the two years spent in the military were akin to hell. He was away from his brothers, his dog, his family and most of all, you. You were the sweet and soothing presence in his life who’d made being in the spotlight so much more bearable. It was less annoying and painful being in the spotlight, having to answer silly interview questions about his ideal type and his favourite line in every comeback single when he knew he could come home to you.

There was also the matter of the promise you’d given him right before all of them had left for the military. He thought about it in every spare moment he had, every night before going to bed, all the times that he spent sitting in the parade square with his company waiting for something or other, every time you’d come to visit, or he’d had a weekend off to come home and visit you. After all this time and energy spent thinking about it, the anticipation was killing him.

By some strange twist of fate, he and Jimin are being discharged on the same day and coming straight home to you. The logistics of having you at their discharge ceremonies, especially with all the cameras and people, were too difficult, so you’re at home waiting. His family came to pick him up and take him back to Seoul, and he feels bad, but he’s never been so uninterested in spending time with them in his life.

When they finally drop him off at the dorms, he’s just about vibrating out of his skin in excitement, something his family chalks up to seeing the boys again, after all this time. And they’re right, kind of. It’s not even the half of it. He doesn’t let them come into the dorms, spouting some bullshit about how it’s late and he’ll be fine, that they should just get home safely.

He bursts out of the lift onto his floor in excitement, his giant army pack no deterrent for him as he makes a beeline for the dorm. You’re right on the other side of the front door, he knows, and the second that it takes the electronic lock to recognize his thumbprint feels like an age. When he finally hears the jingle that means the door is unlocked, he pushes it open so forcefully that it bangs against the wall. Jumping at the noise, he feels a bit like a fool until he catches sight of you, standing in the hallway staring at him with wide eyes.

It’s not like you hadn’t seen him for the entire time he’d been away, but it had been a couple of months since his last day off, and you’ve missed him so much. You want to take in how good he looks in his army uniform from a distance, but more than that, you need to hug him now, and you take off, sprinting towards him at full speed.

With instincts honed by years of being with you, he takes a step into the apartment, drops his backpack carelessly on the ground and opens his arms to catch you. When you’re close enough, you take a running leap and wrap your arms and legs around him, pressing your lips onto his urgently. Taehyung doesn’t miss a beat as he wraps his arms around you securely, kissing you back with all the pent-up desire and love that he’d been holding on to. He doesn’t bother taking off his shoes as he kicks the door shut blindly then slams you against the wall, the feel of your tongue sliding against his, making his belly tighten.

“That was quite an entrance.” Jimin comments from behind you, standing on the edge of the genkan, his toes curling over the step. Taehyung turns to regard his friend, letting up on you so that you can put your feet back on the ground. You smile as you watch the two friends’ reunion, Taehyung closing the gap between them to hug Jimin. He’s so much taller that even though he’s standing in the genkan, they’re about the same height, and it’s adorable.

Taehyung and Jimin hadn’t seen each other in over a year, because for some reason their breaks never coincided with each other, so you don’t take it personally that they seem more excited to see each other than either of them had been to see you. After a long hug they finally separate; still smiling at each other sappily and you skip over, taking their hands in yours.

Jimin cocks a brow at you, smirking as he strokes the back of your hand with his thumb. “This one here’s been excited for you to get back.” he tells Taehyung, who grins at you rakishly in response. It appears that he hadn’t been the only one excited for your reunion.

You whine in embarrassment and step out of the genkan, burying your face in Jimin’s shoulder. "You said we couldn’t start until Tae got back!” you protest, voice half-muffled.

“Start what?” Taehyung asks interestedly, although it’s obvious he knows the answer already. It’s written all over Jimin’s ruffled hair and the pretty flush on your cheeks and going down your neck, disappearing into the neckline of the babydoll that’s barely staying on your body. One of the straps hangs off your shoulder, causing the neckline to droop dangerously.

The clear intent to which Taehyung stares at your breasts almost spilling out of the babydoll soothes your ruffled feathers somewhat. You know he’s been thinking about this – the dirty texts and calls had been increasing in both frequency and intensity as his discharge date inched closer.

About six months ago, you’d gone to have your IUD removed, and Taehyung had, of course, been the most excited of your boys about it, fussing over you as much as he could from the military base where he was stationed. He had sent his assistant over with samgye-tang, even though you were completely fine and could order your own food if you needed it. It had still been nice though, and you always felt loved and cared for by Taehyung, even when he couldn’t be with you in person.

Since then, however, the knowledge of what he was going to do once he got back from his military service has been there in the background in every single one of your interactions. Taehyung, like all the other boys, knows about your cycle in intimate detail and pulled strings to make sure that he would get back from the military just in time to catch your ovulation window. Initially his discharge date was two weeks later, however; you would be on your period, and that was just… wholly unacceptable.

He and Jimin are the first ones to be discharged, which means that breeding you will be their privilege. The knowledge darkens Taehyung’s gaze as he eats you up with his hungry gaze.

“Tae…” You whine impatiently, clenching your thighs together. You are turned on beyond bearing now, seeing the intense gaze he trains on you, his hand tightening over yours. At his request (order?) you’d avoided touching yourself for at least a month now, and Jimin, who arrived home a couple of hours ago, had teased you without relief for ages.

“What’s wrong, love?” Taehyung asks, sliding into the persona that he wears so well in the bedroom. He might be a cute and cuddly puppy most of the time, but both you and Jimin know that when it comes to sex, he’s in charge.

“I missed you.” You pout, tugging on his hand.

“I’m here now.” He teases, grinning at your obvious need.

“Tae…" You whine, pulling harder, and he chuckles at you this time.

“I need to take off my shoes.” He tells you, and you drop his hand so he can unlace his boots. Standing right behind Jimin with your chin propped on his shoulder, your hands slide under his shirt, greedily feeling up his abs. The army had been good for him and his body, you think. They fed him well and worked him hard, and he looks so much healthier now than he was when he left. Watching absently as Taehyung fiddles with his shoes, you sneakily dive your hand into Jimin’s sweatpants to grope him, knowing he’s already hard and waiting for you.

Unfortunately, right before your hand closes around his dick, Jimin lets out a breathy laugh and grabs your wrist, pulling your hand away from him. “Be patient, love.” He chastises, despite your pout. Taehyung, stepping out of his boots, grins at Jimin. You miss the look they share completely, distracted by the feeling of Jimin’s body under your hands. Taehyung knows, though, why Jimin stopped you. It’s uncharacteristic of the smaller man, since he’s usually a complete hedonist and takes his pleasure where he can get it.

Tonight, though, is different. Taehyung and Jimin had agreed to abstain for the past month, to increase their chances of success. It means they have nice, thick loads for you. It also means that both of them are working on a hair trigger. After teasing you, listening to you moan and beg for him for over an hour, Jimin is having a difficult time reining himself in. He’s determined to cum inside you and nowhere else.

When Taehyung finally steps out of his boots and away from the genkan, you reattach yourself to him like a limpet, something he’s only too happy to indulge. He picks you up off the floor entirely and hurries to his bedroom, Jimin trailing behind. Feeling your soft, warm body against his after so long of not seeing you… it’s nothing short of torturous, and he can’t wait to be inside you.

He drops you almost unceremoniously on the bed, but one bounce later you’re surging back up on your knees to attack the buttons on his uniform. It’s complicated though, and with the way your fingers are clumsy from eagerness and arousal, it takes you way too long to figure it out. So, with a chuckle, Taehyung pulls your hands away from his shirt and gets to work stripping himself off.

You sprawl out on the bed, watching with a hooded gaze as he shrugs out of his uniform shirt with practiced ease… Only to find another shirt underneath. With a growl of impatience, you sit back up to pull the shirt off him, while Taehyung just laughs delightedly at how impatient you are.

Jimin chuckles along while sitting in a comfortable chair. That's his usual spot for when he watches you and Taehyung. Usually he would stroke himself while waiting for his turn, but tonight he thinks it best to keep his hands off his junk. Watching your reunion with Taehyung is more than enough to keep him hard anyway.

Getting you out of your skimpy lingerie is far easier than getting Taehyung’s top off had been – one rough yank is enough to send the babydoll flying over your head, and Taehyung tugs so hard on the thong you were wearing that one of the hip seams rips against your thigh, something that neither of you pay attention to. Once you’re naked, you wrap your arms around Taehyung’s neck and pull him down onto the bed insistently.

With one hand bracing his weight and his other working the fastening on his pants, Taehyung can’t stop kissing you. It’s deep, filthy and wet, only a lewd promise of what’s to come. With his trousers finally undone, he crawls onto the bed, clad in just boxers. It’s something you’re not used to – Taehyung usually prefers going commando – but the army uniform doesn’t really allow for that. You hook your fingers in the waistband of his boxers to take them off, leaving them around his thighs as you grab his dick and start stroking.

“Fuckkk,” Taehyung swears against your lips, his brows drawing together. Urgently, he pushes your knees apart, his long fingers diving eagerly into your wet cunt. After all this time, he knows he needs to be careful to stretch you out properly, or it’ll hurt, but God if slowly fingering you open isn’t the hardest thing he’s ever had to do when all he wants is to be buried inside you.

With his thumb circling your clit, he gently pushes two fingers into you, pumping them in and out then scissoring them slowly. You shudder, moan and whine, clawing at his back and shoulders, begging incoherently for him to just stop teasing and fuck you already, dammit. He refuses to give in, even though you can feel him grinding his hips against your thigh and the kisses and bites he lavishes on your neck get rougher and less controlled.

When he finally deems you ready to take him, he is as much of a mess as you are. his muscles jumping sporadically under his skin and his jaw clenched. Words seem to be beyond him as he takes his hot length in his hand, rubbing the tip against your pussy to get it nice and wet.

Now that you’re about to get what you want, you calm down, docile under the weight of his body as you press kisses to his jawline. Your legs bracket his hips and you stroke his sides soothingly, feeling the tremors of his body. He exhales a series of curses as he pushes in, pressing his forehead against yours.

“You’re so goddamn tight, fuck.” He grinds out. He reaches down with one hand to rub your clit, and you clench down on him in response as you shiver in pleasure. All the while, he’s slowly inching in, until finally he bottoms out with a groan. “Missed you so much, baby. I’m gonna breed you so good, and then Jiminie is going to do the same,” he coos at you. “Do you like that? We’re gonna get you nice and pregnant.” He grunts as he begins thrusting in earnest.

Jimin finds that he has no choice but to squeeze the base of his dick as hard as he can to avoid cumming untouched at the way you wail as Taehyung pounds into you, finally letting go of all the pent-up stress of the past two years. Being away from his brothers and from you, having to tell so many lies to his platoon mates and the media about him being single – all of it had taken a toll on him that he’s now taking out on you.

For your part, you absolutely adore it, attempting to pull him deeper into you with your legs wrapped around his hips, leaving long scratches down his back from how good it feels.

“Such a good girl for us, aren’t you?” Taehyung pants. “Gonna fill you up so good, and then Jiminie is going to do the same.” He says, looking up at Jimin who’s watching intently. At first, you’d wondered if Jimin ever felt left out from having to watch you with Taehyung, but he thrives on it. While they were in the military, he’d gotten the chance to be with you alone during his breaks, and he’d never gone as crazy as he does when fucking someone else’s cum out of you.

You tilt your head to squint at Jimin, but your vision is slightly blurred from tears. As Taehyung continues pounding into you, you try your best to smile at Jimin, wanting him to feel included too. You can’t see very well, but you know he recognizes your gesture.

It doesn’t take too long for you to reach orgasm after being denied for so long, and as you cum, you clench down hard on Taehyung. “Fuck, you feel so good.” He pants, pressing his face in your neck as he buries himself as deep into you as he can get.

“I love you so much.” He groans, releasing his massive load deep into you. You stroke the back of his neck as you feel his cum spilling inside you, painting your insides white. He slumps on top of you after that, his bigger body blanketing yours, and you hug him close.

“Jiminie." You call softly, holding your hand out to the other man. He comes over to you, brushing your hair off your face affectionately.

“What is it, jagiya?” He asks, smiling down at you.

“I love you too." You tell him sweetly.

He leans down to kiss you. “I know.” He says smugly, and you roll your eyes at him.

He then moves to kiss Taehyung, slowly, lazily. When they break away, Taehyung pulls himself off you and grabs a pillow from above your head, stuffing it under your hips.

“You have to be careful,” he instructs Jimin. “Or else it’ll all come out.”

“I know, I know.” Jimin waves him off, kneeling between your spread legs on the bed. He leans over you, and you giggle as you loop your arms around his neck.

“Did you enjoy Taehyung, jagiya?” he asks. You nod in response, your gaze darting towards Taehyung for a moment before you look away with a slight blush.

“Do you feel up to taking me tonight?” Jimin says next, his fingers brushing over your used pussy. It’s all a bit – you both know that you’ll bite your lip, pretend to think about it, then accept coyly, and that’s exactly what you do.

The best part about going second, Jimin has found, is there’s absolutely no need for foreplay. He doesn’t need to stretch you out or worry about whether you’re wet enough, because Taehyung’s already taken care of that. Easing himself into you, with Taehyung’s cum as lubrication, is another way for him to feel close to his best friend, even as he makes the most intimate connection there is with you.

“Jiminie.” You coo at him as you tighten your arms around his neck, pulling him down for a kiss. As turned on as Jimin is, he likes to start slow, building it up and making it last.

“Baby.” He responds with equal amounts of affection, brushing his nose against yours as he starts a slow, steady rhythm.

“I missed you.” You sigh. “You always fuck me so good.” Jimin responds well to compliments, so you make sure to keep up a steady stream, kissing him softly, stroking his sides and back, telling him how good his cock feels inside you. It’s not a lie – Taehyung is big, but Jimin is just a little girthier, and the stretch burns pleasantly as he thrusts into you.

“Ah jagiya, you’re always so good to me.” He moans, speeding up a little. Despite Taehyung’s warning, you can feel his cum squelching out of you, making a mess of both you and Jimin. He probably won’t like that, but it’s a nice feeling, and you hug Jimin closer to you. He doesn’t last long either, but makes sure to get you there first, angling his thrusts so that his pelvis bumps against your clit as he reaches that magic spot inside you with the tip of his cock. He remembers that article he read that said the chances of conception are higher when women orgasm, and redoubles his efforts to make you cum.

After so many years together, he knows your body like the back of his hand, and you find yourself falling apart under his expert ministrations. Almost against your will, you feel yourself tightening around Jimin, broken gasps escaping you as you begin climbing the peak again. You fall apart with a shudder, and Jimin groans as he feels you clench hard on him. Finally, finally, he lets himself cum into you, driving in hard one last time before he spills with shuddering moans into your soiled pussy.

“I love you.” He gasps as he slumps over you bonelessly. “I love you, I love you, I love you.” He repeats, nuzzling into your cheek. Equally winded, you pat his back gently, your eyes seeking Taehyung’s.

He stretches out beside you and presses a kiss to your other cheek. “You did well tonight, love,” he praises. “You’re not done yet, though.”

Still a little addled, you don’t have the words to ask him what he means, but the inquisitive tilt of your head has him grinning at you as he holds a pussy plug in front of your face. “So you don’t let any out.” He explains, winking at you.

Jimin heaves himself off you with a grunt, lying flat on his back beside you. Taehyung takes his cue to sit up, pushing your knees apart so he can insert the toy. You fidget uncomfortably for a second, and he strokes your thigh gently. “Such a good girl." He says softly. “Just wanna make sure you keep it all in.”

You force yourself to lay still as he puts it in, then he lies back next to you, one arm flung across your waist. Jimin, on your other side, clings just as hard, and you let yourself drift off to sleep, knowing that round two is coming as soon as they get their breath back.

[estherwritess]

Recipes 2

Pairing: Single parent!Sakusa x Teacher!reader

wc: 1,2k+

genre: fluff, cute domestic stuffs

pt1

A/N: bc some people asked me for a pt two, here u goes, I love writing these sm

It’s been a while since your interaction with Sakusa, keeping contact through text every once and a while. It seemed he was quite the busy man, so the fact that he made time to send you a text every once in a while actually surprised you. You’d never gotten this lucky that a nonetheless cute bachelor would put in the effort to message you despite having a busy schedule instead of brushing it off and ignoring you for days on end. You still saw him or one of his friends pick up Eiji from class every once in a while; his friends were definitely an… interesting bunch to be around. The first time someone else came to pick up Eiji, it was a white and orange haired duo, they were extremely chaotic to say the least and you felt a bit guilty letting Eiji go home with them. They were nice but the only reason you weren’t worried sick was because Sakusa had warned you via text.

They stuck around for a while, probably because they wanted to know more about the girl who had been occupying their teammates mind as well as his time. Eiji seemed to adore them though, possibly because they were so energetic together, at times resembling the innocent joy of a child; especially the orange-haired one.

The second time it was a different person, a blonde with a dark undercut. He had a strange accent, you’d observed that as soon as he opened his mouth. His tone was flirty whenever he talked to you but you chalked it up to his personality as Sakusa had told you over a quick text message, once again to inform you someone else was picking his son up.

You definitely weren’t willing to admit it so easily to other teachers who sometimes co-taught with you or would stand next to you while you monitored the playground; but you were definitely waiting for that text from Sakusa to come over and bake those cookies with him. They caught on after a while, the subtle looks, the flirty undertone; it was painfully obvious to bystanders.

---

You finally get that long-awaited text on the weekend, laying around on your couch jolting up as you hear the sound of an incoming text. Your hands are slightly shaky as you try and find your phone that had to be somewhere on the couch; you mentally reprimand yourself for having basically recreated the pavlov experiment except it was with the sound of a text message this time.

‘If you’re free, come help out with me and Eiji please?’

He doesn’t have to ask you twice as you’re rushing off the couch, forcing yourself to squeeze into close that were more presentable than the worn down sweats and oversized t-shirt you had previously been wearing. It didn’t take very long before you were off to the address he’d texted you a bit later.

---

You had to admit, standing in front his house was quite intimidating to you and pressing the doorbell was quite the achievement if you had to say so yourself. You hear the pitter patter of bare feet sprint to the door, Eiji staring at you from behind the glass paneling next to the door, his tiny hand pressed against the glass as his eyes are trained on you a big smile across his lips. You could hear his high pitched voice urging his dad to come over because “the pretty teacher” was here. As the door opens, Sakusa seems to freeze a bit in place, hand tightly gripping the door handle while his son is eagerly pulling at his pant leg whining for his dad to let you in.

Luckily he seems to snap out of it and invites you in, your eyes curiously wandering through the narrow stretched walkway dividing the rooms.

“I should probably wash my hands first right?” you smile weakly, lifting your hands up.

He nods, “that’d be nice, thank you”.

You timidly follow him to the kitchen, Eiji trailing behind you, excitedly blabbering on about something new he learnt. You smile at the boy who was now hopping next to you, excited to have his favourite teacher help out. You walk yourself to the sink, washing your hands, eyes concentrated as you open your mouth to speak up.

“did you buy the ingredients i sent to you?” you hear a low hum behind you as well as some rummaging.

“papa! can I help out?” Eiji pops in, hands clasped together while he pulls the most convincing puppy eyes you’d ever seen. You can’t help but mutter a soft ‘aww’ under your breath as you see Sakura's expression crack, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips; He was clearly enchanted by how adorable his son was and you couldn’t help but melt at the cute interaction between a father and his son.

“I think you’d be a great help!” you chime in while drying your hands off with the designated towel hanging from the hook; bending through your knees to look at eiji you gave him a thumbs up.

“let’s wash your hands first alright buddy?” you motion towards the sink, he’s quick on his feet as he pulls out the little stool specifically for him that stood to the side. It was quite uncomfortable at first but you quickly felt that tension easy away as time passed on. You felt a surge of confidence as you leant against the kitchen island, eyes curiously looking at Sakusa.

“So, do you just invite every teacher over to help you bake?” your tone is light as you chuckle at your own statement; what you didn’t expect however, was that he’d actually reply to you.

“Only the ones I think are cute,” he pauses, wiping a strand away from his face, “which would be a grand total of one”. The sheer embarrassment that flashes across your face is enough to make you turn around for a second, w blush rapidly making its way onto your cheeks and neck. You choose to dismiss the comment as Eiji is rapidly approaching, you give sakusa a small nudge to make place for you and his son.

“Alright, let’s get started then, everyone has washed their hands?” you look around to be met by two nodding heads, one more excited than the other.

You’ve taken a bowl in hand, carefully handing Eiji an egg: he’s standing atop of his stool next to you so he would actually be able to see what was going on on the counter. He looks at you expectantly and points at the bowl,

“Can you help me crack it?” and so you do, you hold both his wrists and help him with the movement of cracking an egg, you didn’t blame him for not wanting to get egg everywhere because he got a bit too excited and you were sure his father wouldn’t have been very happy with it either.

While you’re preoccupied with the task of not making a horrible mess in the kitchen, you fail to see how Sakusa is leaning against the marble slate of the kitchen island, supported by his hands as his eyes are watching you. He however doesn’t fail to notice how his sons eyes light up in your presence, how he feels his own mood brightening and most of all; he feels like his family is complete for once.

Cheesecult taglist: @akaashichigo @drainedjaz @haikkeiji @annalyn-annalyn @mlkytobio @sosugasweet @cali-writes-sometimes @simping4ratsumu @shishinoya @ushiwakaa @from-left-to-write @akaashit-baeji  @kxgeyamasmilk @agaassi @hanibuni @cupofkenma  @kawanisshi @milkandc00kiez @thiccbokuto @sufiawrites @wakaitoshi @skyguy-peach @fern-writes-ig @briswriting @kawaiikraykray @bubbleteaa @miyuswriting @raevaioli @ouikarwa @hakueishirei @pineapplekween @estherwritess @keiji-n @achoohq @badlywritten-hq @mochibeaa @oinkanna @chxrry-wxne @spudicide @airybby @asranomical @karmasuna @nekoglasses​

Taglist: @hihiq @heccingdead @mitzwinchester​ @izzyphantomgamer @clauclaustar @idiot-juice-enthousiast @kara-grayson04​

[fandomsfeelsandfanfics]

Rules/// Draco Malfoy x Reader

SUMMARY: Apparently Draco’s a rule breaker.

WORD COUNT: a lil under 2k

WARNING(S): none?? you could say it’s suggestive ig

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   You’d never considered yourself a rule-breaker but you’d never seen any reason to break any of the rules set for you. All of the rules set by your parents, Dumbledore, and any other authority figures were always reasonable and made sense. You never had to question them.

   That was until Dolores Umbridge. The High Inquisitor, herself, seemed to have an iron tight hold on Hogwarts. Even when she wasn’t around, her presence was almost palpable. And there was also the fact that her little minions were constantly lurking the hall. What’d she call them again? The Inquisitorial Squad. A bunch of subservient assholes, is what you would’ve called them if anyone asked (including Umbridge).

   With them hiding around every corner, it was hard to get any peace of mind walking through the halls. Especially when your were out way past curfew. And on your way back from a Dumbledore’s Army meeting, which was definitely against the rules.

  You prayed you didn’t see anyone. But you were a fool to think you’d be that lucky.

   You heard footsteps coming down the hall and mumbled a curse word under your breath. You tried to be as quiet as you could, pressing yourself against the wall and just hoping whoever it was would walk right past you.

   At least it wasn’t Umbridge. You would’ve easily recognized the quick tapping of her heels against the floor. The footsteps were quiet and slow and frowing closer to your hiding spot. You squeezed your eyes shut in anticipation.

   Then the footsteps stopped, right in front of the hall. You held your breath, and there was a moment where everything was so still that you thought maybe you’d get away with it.

   But it wasn’t enough. Somehow they still spotted you. “Who’s there?” And of course, it had to be Draco Malfoy. That made the entire situation that much worse. It had to be the ringleader of that group of idiots. Crabbe or Goyle you could’ve tricked or Blaise you could’ve at least reasoned with, but not Draco.

   Draco was going to give you hell.

   “Don’t make me ask again! I know there’s someone down there, come out!” With a sigh, you stepped into the open corridor. As soon as Draco’s eyes fell on you, he smirked.

   “Well, well, well…” He came swaggering over to you and everything about his demeanor told you he knew he was in charge and he loved it.

   When he was about a foot away from you, he stopped, giving you the once over. “(Y/L/N), are you aware it’s after curfew?”

   “I am,” you said through gritted teeth. That was all you could do to stop yourself from pulling your wand out on him.

   “And you know, students’ being in bed by curfew is a strictly enforced rule now. This isn’t like when Dumbledore was headmaster and certain students could get away with anything.”

   You smiled at him, as sweetly as you could, although, it probably looked like a grimace. “Right, which is why I’m heading back to my dorm. Don’t want to be too far past curfew, right?” You tried to walk past him but he grabbed your arm, pulling you close enough that you could make out every detail in his grey irises. His stupid, beautifully grey irises.

“Not so fast.” He was glaring down at you, eyebrows lowered. “Where have you been?” You ripped your arm out of his hand.

He already knew the answer to that—at least, he thought he did—but he wanted to hear you say it. He wanted you to rat out Harry and the entirety of Dumbledore’s Army. Instead, you return smirked.

   You titled your head to the side slightly, narrowing your eyes at him. “Draco, you’d better take a step away from me.” He seemed to take that as a challenge and took a half step closer to you, as if that would make you back down.

   “Oh yeah? And why’s that?”

   “Well, your precious Umbridge made a rule just the other week that ‘boys and girls are not permitted within eight inches of each other’.” Your voice became shrill as you mimicked Umbridge. You found that more amusing than he did. “And you’re definitely in violation of that ‘Educational Decree’.”

“Yeah, and what are you gonna do about it?” You’d thought he was as close as he could be but somehow he came closer still. Close enough that he wasn’t quite pressed against you but one of you took a breath your chests would graze against one another.

Neither of you showed any sign of backing down. “I’m perfectly fine with it, I just did peg an arsekisser like you to be a rule breaker.”

He chuckled slightly. “Don’t you get it? I’m the leader of the Inquisitorial Squad,” he said that with a touch of pride, “I can do whatever the hell I want. I run this school, (Y/L/N). I don’t answer to anyone, not you and certainly not Um—”

“Who’s down there?” Draco nearly jumped out of his skin at the sound of Umbridge’s voice. You'd heard her coming and you could’ve warned him but then again, where’s the fun in that?

You smirked as he quickly turned around and started stumbling over his words. “Professor—Headmaster Umbridge, it’s just me.”

She came forward slowly, looking at both of you curiously. “And what’s going on here?”

“I um...I caught (Y/L/N), here, wandering the halls after curfew.” He grabbed you by your forearm and pulled you towards him.

“Is that so?” Umbridge’s beady eyes peered into yours. You would’ve been intimidated if she weren’t under five feet tall and wearing all pink.

You tried to rip your arm out of Draco’s grip but he seemed to anticipate this and tightened his grasp. “Yes, I’ve given her a pretty stern talking to, which I think will suffice this time, right (Y/L/N)?” When you didn’t reply, he dug his elbow into your side. “Right,” he repeated sternly.

His eyes were telling you something that he didn’t want to say aloud: Just go with it. You rolled your eyes but looked at Umbridge and nodded.

“Right.” Her gaze drifted between the two of you.

“I was just going to escort her back to her dorm to make sure she doesn’t continue to wander the halls.” Draco took a step forward, only to be halted by Umbridge raising her hand.

“The next time you purposefully disobey one of my rules, you will get much more than a warning. Is that clear?”

   A few thoughts ran through your head at that moment. You could probably pull your wand out and cast a spell before she had time to react. Or you could just punch her. You felt Draco’s squeeze your arm tighter and for a moment you looked up at him. 

   When your eyes returned to Umbridge, you spoke through clenched teeth. “Crystal.” 

   Anger seemed to shine in her eyes at your sarcasm. She opened her mouth to speak, but Draco began to talk before she could. “Right,” Draco exclaimed. “So have a good evening, Headmaster, and I’m sure (Y/N) has learned her lesson.” 

   She eyed you for a moment. She didn’t like your nonchelant expression at all and if it wasn’t for Draco you’d probably be in real trouble. She looked back at him and nodded. “Alright then. Goodnight to the both of you.”

   Draco smiled at her and you rolled your eyes as Draco led you away. You both walked down the hallway in silence as Umbridge watched you carefully. Once you rounded the corner, you heard her heels clicking off in the other direction. You pulled your arm away from Draco, rubbing the skin that he had been holding so tightly. 

   “Thanks,” you said reluctantly. 

   He didn’t meet your eye when you looked over at him. “Come on.” You followed him without really thinking. After a few moments however, you realized he was heading in the wrong direction. 

   “My dorm’s the other way.” He looked down at you, a hint of annoyance evident in his eyes. His jaw was set as he shook his head, completely ignoring your comment.

   “Come on,” he muttered again. You wanted to be combative but something in you told you to just be quiet and see where this would go. So you did.

   He led you down corridor after corridor in a seemingly random pattern but he never once backtracked or second guessed himself. So you figured he knew where he was going. You walked side by side the entire time and frequently your hands brushed against each other and there were moment where you thought about taking his hand. Your self control got the better of you and every time this happened you pulled your hand away from his.

   Finally, Draco stopped. You were in the middle of an empty corridor in what you thought was the east side of the castle. There were windows on the wall across from you and moonlight streamed in through them. You turned back to Draco and for a moment caught him staring at you—no, studying you. 

   He didn’t even pretend he wasn’t looking, didn’t bother tearing his eyes away. He simply took you in, smiling slightly as you looked away from him, not being able to maintain the intense eye contact. 

   “Draco, where have you taken me?” He didn’t answer. He came closer to you until he was close enough to touch you. Gently placing his hands on your hips, in one swift motion he pivoted you around until your back was placed against the wall. 

   You gasped at the sudden movement but you didn’t try moving away from him. His chest was pressed against yours, his hands firmly on your hips, pressing them into the cold stone of the wall. You felt him leaned into you, taking in the scent of your hair before moving his nose to the curve of your jaw. 

   His breath fanned against your neck and you wished you had some sarcastic comment to mask your obvious exhileration but your mind went blank as he placed a soft kiss to the place where your jaw and neck met. You craned your neck to the side to give him better access and he chuckled at your reaction.

   You turned your head to look at him. The moon illuminated his skin making him look almost ghostly pale. You reached up to touch his hair, running your fingers through the blonde strands and he let you. 

   The silence was finally broken when he said, “Do you honestly think I give a damn about Umbridge’s rules?” 

   Before you could come up with a reply, his lips were against yours. He pressed into you with a searing kiss that left you practically breathless. You arched up from the wall, trying to get as close to him as possible. You tugged at his hair gently and his teeth came down involuntarily to drag against your bottom lip. 

  He pulled away from you, gazing casually down at you. His eyes were glazed and practically alight with desire. 

   He toyed with a strand of your hair, tucking it neatly behind your ear. “Especially if those rules keep me from the things I want.” 

   You tried to bring him back in for another kiss and he stepped away from you. He smirked at you. “Ah ah.” He wagged his finger at you. “Remember the rules.” 

   You groaned slightly, once again trying to close the distance between the two of you. He took another step away from you, leaving you pressed against the wall, pouting. He laughed slightly eying you playfully. 

   Without another word, he turned and began walking down the corridor. You watched him, not quite knowing what to do. Once he was at the end of the hallway, he looked at you over his shoulder.

   “Head back to your dorm and do be careful not to get caught. Someone else might not be as lenient as me.”

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A/N: yo should i do a sequel to this orrrrrr

[aerynwrites]

Trust is a Fragile Thing

Din Djarin x Reader

Author’s Note: I don’t think I’ve ever been more excited to post something in like...forever. I got hella choked up writitng this so I hope y’all feel ALL the angst I poured into this one! And yes, i know this wasn’t one of the many many request I still have to do but I’m working on those next haha. So, expect some more of those later this week! Let me know what you guys think of this one!

Thank you to my wonderful beta readers @anniebombannie​ and @amberthefiredemon​ - without them my fics would be loaded with awkward phrasing and lame grammatical errors lol.

Word Count: 4k

Warnings: Hella angst (idk if y’all are ready for it), yelling, angst, cursing, mentions of blood and injruy, did I say angst already?

- - - - - - - - - - - - - -

You and Din had been partners for several years at this point and had officially been in a relationship for almost half of that time. You both had met on some backwater planet going after the same bounty. At first, as is usual with Din, things were rocky at best. He wouldn’t talk to you unless absolutely necessary, and if he did it was usually two words or less. You wanted to rip your hair out with how hard it was to communicate with the man; but, as time went on, you both slowly started to break down each other’s walls. He already knew a lot about you, you were an open book, and you talked incessantly as a way to fill the silence that he refused to.

But eventually, he let you in.

He told you about his parents, his past life, and his total and utter devotion to the Mandalorians and his creed. While this was just the starting point in your relationship, it seemed almost inevitable that it turned into more. It had been after a near death experience on your part, when the usually stoic and silent Mandalorian had confessed his feelings for you. Not out right of course, but he had told you that he was terrified of losing you then told you his name, and you knew what it meant. In turn, you had told him how you felt, in more direct terms, and it was history after that. Several months later you and Din got the bounty for the Child and had been on a mission to find his kind ever since. With the child, your relationship with Din had seemed to grow stronger, the rigid and cold bounty hunter had turned into a soft and caring protector to the both of you. However, despite your relationship, Din was still heavily devoted to his creed and the Mandalorians. Something that you knew never to question, especially when it came to the helmet. You knew the importance of it, and that he was never supposed to remove his helmet in front of another living being. Hell, when you and the crew were on Nevarro he had almost let himself die to keep his creed. The only reason he was alive was because IG had convinced him that, since he wasn’t living, Din had not broken his creed. Din trusted you with this and many other things - He trusted you with his life, his name, and most importantly, he trusted that you would never break his creed - something you always respected.

So, a year later when you were still searching for the child’s species and Din had taken the brunt force of an explosion from a bounty hunter, you were faced with an impossible decision.

Save Din or let him die?

your breathing was labored and frantic as you pulled him up the ramp of the Razor Crest. He was completely dead weight after he had been hit and it took everything in you to haul him back to the ship in hopes of helping him. When you finally got him into the hull, you immediately closed the hatch and set the ship’s coordinates for a nearby planet, returning back to Din as the ship took off. You grabbed the large medkit from the wall on your way back down to where Din lay and rushed over to him, kneeling so your knees were by his chest. Your eyes graze over his unconscious form, immediately taking note of the several injuries he had amassed from the earlier fight. You rapidly started removing his beskar, trying to get a better look at what you were dealing with, but you felt your lip tremble as the reality of the situation sank in. He had a head wound, a fatal one at that, if the amount of blood seeping onto the floor from beneath his helmet was any indication. But you had hoped, prayed, to whatever god was out there that it wasn’t a head wound - that it was some chest laceration or a broken rib or something that you could actually treat; but as you sat there and the pool of blood grew larger and his breathing shallower, you felt every naive hope slip from your fingertips and your hands gripped your hair fiercely.

What should I do?

Your mind, the instinctual and primal part, is screaming at you to rip his helmet off and treat him, to save him. As if it was the most obvious thing in the world - and to most, it was. But the other half of your mind is making you hesitate. You can’t remove his helmet, not without a terrible sense of guilt washing over your very being at the thought of taking away his way of life, his entire reason for living. Neither you or Din had ever really discussed what you were supposed to do in a situation like this, what you were supposed to do when it came to his life or his way of life. Your heart felt like it was going to burst from your chest at any moment and felt like it was breaking simultaneously as you watch the man you love bleed out on the metal floor of the ship. And as you gazed at his dying form, mere inches away from you, one final thought crossed your mind.

You couldn’t live without him.

Maybe it was selfish, maybe it was entirely a selfish and stupid reason to do what you did, but before you knew what was happening your hands lunged for the metal surrounding his head and pulled it off slowly, careful not to move his head more than necessary. You paused for a moment when your eyes finally fell upon the face of the man who held your heart. Despite his terrible medical state, you realized he was strikingly handsome. Thick dark hair atop his head and a dark scruff to match. You shook your head quickly, bile starting to rise in your throat as the realization of what you had just done hit you full force, almost knocking the wind out of you. You try and shove down the guilt and anxiety and instead focus on fixing him up. You find the lone canister of bacta spray, reserved for critical emergencies, and locate the wound on Din’s head. You gently place your hands on either side of his face and cautiously tilt his head side to side until you locate the source of bleeding. There was a large gash running from the back of his head to just under his left ear and it was deep. You quickly sprayed a liberal amount of the medical spray onto the wound and set his head back down gently. You notice some other smaller and less concerning scrapes on his face, but decide not to worry about them at the moment.

Your plan was to put Din’s helmet back on, and treat his other wounds, hoping that he wouldn’t even know that you removed his helmet in his vulnerable state. You swiftly replace the helmet back where it belonged before stitching up his less life threatening wounds on his chest and arms. You worked in silence, casting intermittent glances back towards his visor. What he wouldn’t know won’t hurt him...Right?

***

Wrong.

You were so wrong.

Well, you weren’t completely wrong, in the fact that he wouldn’t know, because he didn’t. The Mandalorian had stayed unconscious for three days, resting and healing from his brush with death, and when he woke up, he was none the wiser.

A startled gasp left your lips when a hand settled on your shoulder over the pilot's chair. You looked behind you only to see Din, fully armored and standing with his hand rested gently on your shoulder giving it a small squeeze.

“Thank you,” he says earnestly, “I know it couldn’t have been easy...getting me back here and patching me up.”

You feel a lump of guilt form in your throat, making it hard to speak, so you just nod. Causing a bubble of concern to blossom in Din’s chest. You were never usually this quiet.

“Is everything okay?” he asks, voice thick with concern.

You just nod again, and Din takes a seat in the co-pilot's chair behind you, opting not to press the subject. After a few more tense moments of silence, you finally release a shaky breath and glance at him out of the corner of your eye.

“You know I love you...right?” you ask, voice barely above a whisper.

Din furrows his brows under his helmet, leaning forward slightly, “of course I know that.”

“Do you love me?” you turn to face him fully now, voice nearly failing you.

Din shakes his head and looks at you, confusion filling his mind, “You know I do,” he splutters, “Why are you even asking me this?”

You shake your head, and swallow thickly, “I just wanted to hear it is all... I almost lost you, you know.”

Din stands and walks over to you, pulling you up and into his chest, hugging you firmly.

“Nothing could ever change the way I feel about you, cyar’ika” he whispered, holding you firmly against him.

A silent tear fell down your cheek at the memory. It had been almost a week since the incident, and the guilt was eating you alive. You were wrong when you thought your actions wouldn’t have consequences. While Din was blissfully unaware of what happened, you were suffering silently and Din was starting to notice.

You had withdrawn from him since the intimate moment in the cockpit. Your usual quirky and sarcastic comments were replaced with silent nods and one word answers, and your sleep was nonexistent. He would often come to bed to find you wide awake, staring up at the ceiling or playing with the child - and even after he had retired to bed with you, you would turn away from him. Din didn’t know what he did wrong, if he was even the problem at all. He just knew that he couldn’t keep going like this - you couldn’t keep going like this. He felt his heart shatter more and more each day as the bags under your eyes became more evident and the spark in your eyes disappeared, replaced instead with what seemed to be constant unshed tears. He finally decided to say something one day while you both were in the cockpit, the child asleep in his pod downstairs, and the first actual moment alone you two had in almost a week. You were staring aimlessly out of the ship at the millions of stars passing by, and Din felt his words catch in his throat as he gazed at you. You looked somewhat peaceful, the first semblance of contentment and calm that has crossed your features in a long time. Din sighed quietly before finally speaking up.

“Why won’t you talk to me?” his voice is small, so small and quiet you almost didn’t hear it. But you did - and it caused a whole new wave of guilt to wash over you and join the guilt already present. You physically deflated and you looked over to Din tiredly.

“I’m just tired is all,” you excuse lamely.

Din shakes his head and turns his seat to face you, “It’s more than that,” he argues, “You haven’t slept since I woke up, you barely eat -”

You cut him off, not ready to face the shell of a person you’ve become, filled with guilt and self-hatred at the thing you did, “I said I’m fine,” you say pitifully, trying to be firm but it instead comes out in a broken whisper.

Din doesn’t stop, “You hardly even look at me anymore, you don’t want to be near me during the day or at night, you don’t even talk to the kid anymore -” he continues to ramble, trying to get you to understand how much you’ve changed, that it hurts him how much you’re withdrawn from him.

“Stop,” your hands find their way into your hair and you grip the strands as if they’ll somehow keep you grounded, “Just stop!” you cry, tears now falling freely down your face.

Din is standing now, and he takes your hands in his own and pulls you to your feet, “Just tell me what I did so I can fix it,” he’s pleading now, he feels his own heart breaking in two at the anguish clear on your face.

You shake your head and try to pull away from him but his hold is firm, “you didn’t do anything!” you exclaim, your thoughts are frantic. You haven’t slept in god knows how long, you can’t even think straight, all you know is that Din is sitting here blaming himself for what you did, and he doesn’t even know it.

“Then what’s wrong?” he’s begging now, “please, cyra’ika, just tell me what I can do, tell me what’s wrong so i can help.”

At these words the dam finally bursts. It's like a flood of all the possible human emotions rush over you at once as you rip your hands from his grip and stumble away from him, no longer in control of your actions.

“You can’t help me!” you wail.

DIn reaches for you again and you swat his hands away as he speaks, “I can try-”

“I took off your helmet” you finally sob.

It’s like a flip is switched.

Din’s soft and concerned demeanor is snatched away in an instant as he stands tall and rigid, taking a step away from you as you stand in the doorway to the cockpit, hand resting on it for support. His chest heaves as he breathes and you can hear it from where you stand, as your skin prickles with the tension now filling the room, and you feel your heart sink to the pit of your stomach.

“You what?” His voice is robotic, but you don’t miss the seething anger present in those two words.

Your gaze drops to the floor, “I took it off when you were injured,” you whimper.

Din doesn’t say another word, he just continues to stand where he is and stare at you. Somehow the silence is more unerving than if he were screaming at you, you honestly wish he was doing that - or something other than looking at you in silence. So you try to fill the silence with an explanation.

“You were dying I had to do-”

He cut you off taking a threatening step towards you, “No! You didn’t. You didn’t have to do anything!” he’s yelling now.

You can’t see it, but under the helmet Din is falling apart before you. His heart sank the minute the words came out of your mouth, and his heart ripped in two and made his chest ache. He loved you, he cared for you and yet he could only feel one thing at this moment.

Betrayal.

His mind was foggy with it as he stared at you, anger and rage consuming his entire being. You knew the rules, his creed, his way of life, yet you betrayed his trust and took all of that away from him and it hurt. The one person in the entire galaxy that he felt that he could trust, he had lost.

“What would you have done in my shoes? You were fucking bleeding out on the goddamn floor of the ship! Would you have let me die?” you were bawling now, tears cascading down your cheeks and snot dribbling from your nose as you tried to wipe them both away.

“No I wouldn’t have let you die,” he says, “because saving you wouldn’t have taken away your entire way of life,” he grinds out.

You throw your hands out to the side, “Then what was I supposed to do?”

“You should have let me die.”

The finality in his words shock you to your very core. As if that was the only reasonable answer to the problem at the time, like it was so obvious, you shook your head in disbelief.

“Let you die? You would rather me have let you die than save your life?”

“Better than living a life betraying the people who took me in.”

You could feel yourself crumbling from within, you were losing him, and it was all your fault.

“I’m sorry! Din you have to understand-”

“Stop!” he yelled, his words harsh and clipped, “don’t say my name.”

You furrow your brows in confusion and anguish, “What? Please, what are you doing?”

“I trusted you (y/n). I trusted you with everything, and you betrayed it all, you betrayed me-” his voice cracked, and even though you couldn’t see his face you knew he was crying, “so don’t ever say my name again. Ever.” he bites.

It feels like your entire body lost all sense of everything. Everything was numb, everything except the deep ache in your chest where your heart was supposed to be.

“I love you, I couldn’t just let you die,” you whisper desperately, trying in vain to get him to understand.

Mando turns on his heel and returns to the pilots seat, helmet turned only slightly towards you, “if you really loved me, you would have let me die on that floor. Because this-” he gestures vaguely around him, “knowing my creed has been destroyed by the one person I trusted most….It’s worse than any death.”

He turns back to the controls before you can speak, “we’ll do what we have to do until we find the kid’s species. Then you have to go.”

His voice is cold and calculated. Nothing like what you have been used too since you all have been together, and you realize in that instant that this isn’t Din. It’s the Mandalorian. You had lost Din the minute you told him what you did.

So you just nod, knowing he can’t see you and leave the cockpit, going to the spare cot in the back of the ship for the first time since you had become partners. You collapse into the cot curling your knees into your chest as you let sobs wrack your body. You had ruined everything, all because you let your own love and emotion get in the way. You knew you wouldn’t change a thing...you couldn’t. You loved the man in beskar, more than life itself, so even though you knew it would ruin things - you would make the same decision again. At least he would still be with you, even if he hated you now. As you continued to cry over what you lost, the first signs of sleep in days finally overcame you. And as you fell into a dreamless slumber, you were unaware of the usually stoic Mandalorian crying over what he lost too.

****

15 years later

True to his word, Din had let you stay and help him until the child was successfully reunited with his people. Fifteen years it had taken to find the child's home. Fifteen years full of empty space and weeks of drifting and the black, star filled void as they searched beyond the known universe. You could count on two hands the amount of times you and Din had spoken to one another since that fateful night. You lived with your decision every day since then, the guilt was ever present in your mind as you continued to exist with Din and the child. He kept his helmet on, despite the creed being broken, and you didn’t dare ask why. Something that Din was grateful for since he wouldn’t have had an answer.

These past fifteen years had been the hardest on Din than the forty before them. He still loved you. He knew that he could never really stop loving you. But he could also never find it in himself to forgive either. The betrayal ran too deep, the fact that you of all people were the one to do it, made it even worse. So, in his day to day life, he did his best to avoid you and when he did have to interact with you it was strictly professional and with as little talking as possible. Because he knew if he allowed himself to open up again, he would forgive you immediately. It had been a long fifteen years, and the emotional and physical damage of this time were showing on both you and Din.

He had noticed this as he stood next to you on a tropical planet, the one he was dropping you off on after all these years, just like he said he would once their mission was complete. It was inhabited, not well known but had ports if you ever wished to leave. As much as he wanted too, he didn’t hate you. He wasn’t going to dump you on some hell hole planet and leave. He wanted you to be happy, he just couldn’t be a part of it...not without feeling that constant betrayal and mistrust.

He had managed to find a small beach and landed the ship, watching silently as you gathered your things into a backpack and exited the ship without a word. He followed behind you a few paces, watching as you kicked your shoes off and took them in your hands before wiggling your toes in the sand and turning your face up towards the sun, eyes slipping closed. He finally followed you the rest of the way out and took a place next to you and that’s when he truly noticed the damage the last fifteen years had done.

He could see the silver hair blending with your natural color around your roots and along the top of your ears. He noticed the small wrinkles around your eyes as you cast a bittersweet smile at the sun. but most of all, as you finally turned to look at him, he noticed the faraway look in your eyes, the absence of any and all meaningful emotion.

You gave him a small smile, “Guess this is goodbye.”

Mando doesn’t say anything, he can’t past the lump in his throat, so he just nods.

The first emotion he’s seen in awhile, sadness, passes through your eyes as you continue to stare at him.

“I did it because I loved you, you know? Still do.” you say sadly, face turning back to look across the ocean at the lowering sun.

Din is silent for a moment before he nods, “I know.”

A smile spreads across your face, a genuine contented smile, and you turn to look at him one last time.

“Good luck out there Mando.”

Then you turn and walk along the shoreline, leaving your footprints in the sand behind you.

Under the helmet, a tear leaves a trail down Din’s cheek as he watches you leave, the ocean waves washing away the prints in the sand as you get further and further away. Once he can no longer see you, only then does he turn and enter the ship, closing the door behind him, and taking off.

You watch from the shoreline as the telltale silver streak of the Razor Crest glints across the sky and into the galaxy above. And as you sit in the sand and Din sits amongst the stars, you both realize you are both truly and utterly alone.

- - - - - - - - 

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[prettynobodyco]

A peek into the horrors of my childhood 👻 Peeing in a bucket in a closet bc my family’s business *didn’t have a bathroom* 👀 For some reason this memory was nagging me so I started drawing it, then ended up learning today, mid drawing, that A) My father was still using the Bathroom Bucket method after deciding to not pay his utilities and B) the same property that didn’t come with a restroom is now valued at a cool 3 MIL (the land anyway) it’s almost comical to think back at such obvious struggles that could’ve easily been solved by members not being weirdly, obsessively frugal. Growing up in poverty along side grandparents who have been well off my entire life but never seemed to actually support anyone but themselves is really something. ⁣ ⁣ ⁣⁣ ⁣⁣ 🚨 Only about 10% of my 28k followers will see this (if that tbh 👀) that means MAYBE *2,000* of y’all will get to see it and unless it gets TONS of interaction (likes & comments & shares & saves) it won’t be shown to anymore followers than that. I don’t have the most active followers and I hate asking for people to do more than just enjoy the content but damn, IG is killing my momentum over here. So plz, like or comment or share or save, whatever u feel like, or else I’ll continue to fade into IG purgatory, thx 🙃 ⁣I also suggest turning on Post Notifs for my page if you don’t see me often to be notified when I post! ⁣⁣⁣ ⁣ ⁣⁣ [Image Description] A brightly colored illustrated scene from a hallway looking into a small room or closet where a bucket sits under a glowing light with three rolls of toilet paper placed next to it. ⁣ (at Los Angeles, California) https://www.instagram.com/p/B37oxZ_BoHu/?igshid=10j3hjtst60yy

[davidsonhq]

You say that you're no good for me 'Cause I'm always tugging at your sleeve And I swear I hate you when you leave I like it anyway.

Date: 29th July, 2021. 

Location: Pete’s apartment, Staten Island.

Notes: After three years, Ariana and Pete finally get some closure in a very Ariana and Pete fashion.

@trulyari

Pete: Nothing about this whole meet-up sounded like a good idea to Pete. In fact, he could hardly hear himself think over all the alarm bells going off in his head, though they were always drowned out by the incessant need to have and own Ariana's attention, in any way, shape, or form. You would've thought that spending so long apart would've done wonders for his self control, yet it took barely more than five texts from his ex to fall right back into the same swing of things that came so naturally to him from before. He liked to think his reliance on her boiled completely down to his BPD, though if that were true, then why wasn't he pulling the same stunts to get replies from Carly, Cazzie, Kate, Margaret or even Kaia? It was like he craved the reckless, impulsive passion that had always engulfed them both and would take it whether it was positive or negative - which, as things stood, they currently were. Call it blind optimism or just knowing their dynamic too damn well, but he had a feeling it was the same reasoning that had brought her to him this evening, a personalized Imperial March doorbell - how fitting - sounding throughout the apartment, signalling her arrival. She'd never seen his new place on the waterfront, never even hung out since their very public breakup, so it seemed kind of trippy opening the new door to a very familiar sight, even three years later. "Yeah, no girl scout cookies, thanks". He spoke abruptly, re-closing the door immediately after opening it and very seriously considering just not opening it again until his body betrayed him by pulling back on the handle. "You actually came. I was right. Dope".

Ariana: This was such a bad excuse. Ariana knew it, Pete had to have known it, and if anyone had the chance to see their texts, they would know it as well. No one goes out of their way to visit someone just to keep the insults going in person. This was a chance to be near the other that things hadn't ended so well with, especially when it wasn't exactly their fault that it went this way. Ariana would never admit to it, but it's obvious. Sure, she tried to be friends with her exes before, sometimes hanging out with Ricky, but maybe the way she had such strong feelings for Pete kept her from seeing him again. At risk of being upset over it again, she kept distance but now it's as of she craved his company. Even if he got under her skin and made her eyes roll on the daily now. Ariana's mind did it's best not to think of anything other than her annoyances as she walked up to Pete's door, but suddenly it's as if they melted when she saw him again. "You-" Her eyes immediately narrowed as the door was shut in her face after the comment, her arms crossing as she waited for him to open it again. "I fucking hate you." The words mumbled out of her mouth. "Surprised you didn't lie about the address."

Pete: If he were being completely honest with himself, Pete wasn’t sure that he’d ever see Ariana again. Her face plastered all over the streets of New York and her voice finding its way onto his radio, sure, but in person? He had promised himself he’d never let that happen again. He knew all it’d take for her to dominate his thoughts again was one moment in person, which currently had him hating himself for being so weak-willed. Three years of resistance, boiling down to nothing. “I know you do” he responded, an all knowing smile on his face. And he really meant it. He felt all that frustration that she must’ve felt too for even making her way there. “Feeling’s mutual”. And yet, he opened the door wider, inviting her in with a side step. “Fuck. A’ight, now you’ve got me hating myself. I should’ve thought of that sooner. Could’ve had you wandering around Staten Island then enjoyed watching the Netflix documentary about your disappearance by the end of the month”. And she really thought he wouldn’t keep up this hateful facade to her face. Now came the awkward part. Normally, he’d greet his visitors with a hug or a fist bump, but what exactly was the right thing to do in this situation? “So, you uh…want a beer? A  joint? A gag?”

Ariana: What a stupid smile. Ariana hated Pete's smile. More so, she hated the way it made her want to smile. Seeing stupid videos pop up on her IG or Twitter of the comedian being funny, fuck him. It wasn't right that she couldn't just ignore all of it. Luckily enough for now, she was able to ignore it in order to not smile back at him. "You wish you could hate me." With her arms dropping from her chest, Ariana made her way past him, making sure not to bump her shoulders into him as she stepped by. "So nice that you know Netflix would make another documentary about me." A shitty grin spread across her face before her eyes were narrowing. "Normally I'd accept but I don't know what I would catch from your gags."

Pete: The way Ariana breezed past him into his home was reminiscent of times beforehand, though the vibe between them was obviously vastly different. Usually she would’ve bounded straight into his arms and this reception would’ve felt more familiar if they had actually had a slow breakdown of their relationship rather than having it come to a screeching halt. The whole thing had been turned on it’s head, and having her here now under such different circumstances was definitely a shock to the system. Sticking to what he knew best, Pete continued to rally with her, the pair exchanging dig after dig. “It actually hasn’t been used in I’d say…about three years? Not everyone moans like they’re used to projecting their voice across an entire stadium”. He turned on his heel back to her, holding up his palms as if in surrender. “And I’m not shitting on you with that, I actually miss hearing it”. Throwing out bold comments like that and acting like he hadn’t was sort of his specialty, and today was no different as he followed it up with pointing towards the human-sized-alien-toy that sat proudly on the couch, as always. “You remember my boy, Kev?”

Ariana: Memories of whenever Ariana would walk into the same room as Pete years ago flooded her mind, causing her to remember how she would hold onto him as if he were the only thing keeping her grounded. She still remembered the last time they were like that, the scent of him surrounding her like his tattoo littered arms would when holding her body close. The fact that she was thinking of this alone made her want to hate him even more. With her mouth opening to return an insult, it quickly closed again when Pete mentioned what he had missed. Now she was stuck thinking about how loud he was capable of making her when they were together like that. "I'm sure your neighbors were more than thrilled with us splitting up, finally got some fuckin' sleep." The fact alone that the toy had moved from a corner to sitting on a couch like a genuine part of the household caused Ariana to smile in it's direction but she immediately wiped it away to hide emotion. "I remember his perverted watching. Still bring him along whenever you fuck? It'd explain you not having a girl staying here."

Pete: Feeling somewhat accomplished that he’d managed to cause her to think back to at least some of the memories that had plagued his mind since being back in her presence, Pete smiled smugly as he rounded the couch and patted Kevin on the head, wishing he could’ve seen their long nights through his eyes at least once. “Fuckin’ damn right I do, he’s my G. The girls may change, but Kev stays the same. And anyway, who says I don’t have one staying here tonight?”  Raising his eyebrows, Pete looked over in Ariana’s direction, unsure of just where his confidence always managed to come from considering in reality he considered himself extremely insecure.  Luckily, he’d just gotten good at faking it. “Last time I checked, you identified as a female, and if I were you I’d advise against getting the ferry back to the city late at night, there’s weirder people than me that come out of Staten Island”. Digging around in the pockets of his basketball shorts for a pre-rolled joint, Pete stuck it between his lips, talking without moving them too much to prevent it falling. She hadn’t exactly answered his question about whether or not she wanted to partake, but since when would that ever stop him? Ironically, he needed smoke in his lungs just as much as he needed oxygen in them. “You mind? I kinda need it. I can feel my blood pressure doubling just from having you in the same room as me”. Without so much as waiting for a response, as if he were actually grumpy that she’d decided to come and was eager to already get away, Pete slid open the doors that led to the balcony - New York City, the place they’d met, lighting the horizon, just over the water. Raising the lighter to his mouth and sparking his joint, Pete took a long drag before glancing back inside to see where his visitor was at, despite him not being overly inviting.“You coming or what?”

Ariana: There was a softness that spread over Ariana whenever she could see Pete's smile, knowing that it's all he had to do in her direction to cause the feeling of melting to occur. It was terrible. Disgusting. She loved it. "I come over here to see you be an asshole to my face and you're thinking I should stay the night?" Her eyebrow raised in his direction before her sight dropped back down on Kev. A certain night of stopping mid sex to call the Alien out popped up in her head, her mental smile forcing it's way out physically down at the fake creature. "You're a fuckin' mess. Do you want the Netflix doc or what?" Against her own judgement, one of her whispy laughs left her throat just like the way she would laugh around him years before. "Have at it. Just don't ask me to marry you while high again." With that, Ariana followed the other out onto the balcony, her hands gripping onto the edge for a moment to collect herself. The scent of weed lingering around as she admired the city transported her back to a special type of memory, often the kind that lead to her and Pete rushing off to the bedroom. "I'm not gonna let you live down for missing my voice now that you've said it, by the way."

Pete: “We both know one of the worst possible things to come out of tonight would be you staying over, so by encouraging it, can’t you just pretend it’s my entire intention to be an asshole?” In reality, it really was just because he wanted to keep her safe, but he’d be damned if he let her believe that. Leaning back against the railing, Pete opted to face inwards, towards the sight that he never thought he’d see in person again rather than out at the waterfront which he witnessed every day. “Why? You afraid you’ll say yes again?” He teased, knowing just how impulsive they both could be. I mean, fuck, he wasn’t sure that they’d been talking even a day before Pete had thrown out the whole “I’d marry you tomorrow” comment that caused a rapid spiral of them falling for eachother way faster than the average couple would. Taking a drag, the comedian narrowed his eyes through a cloud of smoke, “is that something I said? I don’t recall. I hear your voice every fuckin’ day on some radio station or some other shit. I’m pretty sure I said I missed hearing you the way not many other people get to. Or…maybe even anyone else, ever. Depends how good you’re getting it. I mean, there has to be a reason the guy you started seeing after me looked like a literal clone, right? Trying to replicate anything there?"

Ariana: The way Pete's logic sounded as ass backwards as their dynamic now was gave Ariana more signals that the other was full of shit, and she'd be lying if she said she didn't enjoy it. "Sounds like you're being an asshole to yourself more than to me. I know how difficult it must be to have my presence around without wanting to jump my bones." She teased before the feeling of his eyes on her began to make her uneasy. It'd been so long since they had this type of proximity but she felt her body betray her as it welcomed the sensation. "That's right, it's entirely impossible to deny such an offer." Her eyes rolled before they were back to making contact with Pete's, her head tilted back so she could actually see them. "First of all.. I bet you don't change the station when I come on either, but still.. you missing the way I sound in bed is what I meant anyway." A sigh left her lips as she turned away to face the city again as if she could ignore how nice it was when Pete looked at her. "Well.. he might have looked like you, but he certainly couldn't hold up in the same way.. don't let that get to your head, though. I don't need to fuel any ego."

Pete: He couldn't deny that this /was/ some form of self-torture, and he pursed his lips together, nodding in agreement. "No. No, you're right in some respect...this definitely was some whack idea that could be considered self destructive. Luckily for you, that's right on brand for me, so you get one free night of my company before I come to my senses. What /I'm/ more interested in, is knowing what's in it for you? Why did you actually come?". He could sense his gaze, that hadn't shifted from Ariana once, was making her feel uneasy, and he had to admit that he enjoyed still having some sort of power over the way he could make her feel. "Or maybe that's just it. Here I am thinking you low-key miss me but are too stubborn to admit it, but maybe you just miss a part of me. And shit, if that's the case, I'm not offended. You won't see me crying about it. Consider my ego already inflated". Letting another smile creep back onto his features as he continued to wind her up, Pete relaxed back against the railing and cocked his head. "I'm right, aren't I? You don't need to say it. Blink once for yes and not at all for no".29 June 2021

Ariana: There was no denying the fact that Ariana might be just as equally as destructive as Pete could be. This wasn't the first time she found herself sharing time with someone she used to be with, Bill being able to contest to that fact. That was a whole other story of its own, but this felt even more. She wasn't ever engaged to Bill. "A part of me genuinely thought you couldn't be an asshole to my face. Which I'm right. Sure, you're an ass, but you're not a dick to me." The other part too it was too hard for Ariana to admit to, especially cause it was ultimately her own life that made it impossible for their relationship to work out. That alone made it feel like Ariana shouldn't miss him. "Oh my god.. you know, you're far more confident about yourself than you think," Ariana paused as she turned her body back towards him so they could look at one another yet again. "Really suggesting that I came over here because I missed your dick." A scoff left her lips that wasn't nearly as serious as she had meant for it. Just for that, though, Ariana continued to stare at Pete, doing her best not to blink for as long as possible until it was impossible. "I get no benefit from agreeing with you, so I refuse it.. but so what that he looked like you. Just accept that I have a /type/."

Pete: “Oh, I’m not doing a good job? I can kick it up a notch, if you want-“ Pete offered, sticking with the facade that anyone would want to come round just to be annoyed by someone. Personally, he thought he was being pretty intolerable, but he supposed that spoke volumes about how much Ariana was willing to put up with just to be in his company. If only she had held the same perseverance during the breakdown of what they had. She had to have known he wasn’t actually this confident and it was all just an act, sort of like the one where he moved on with an almost 50 year old woman and engaged in heavy make out sessions in highly papped areas. To him, the acts were all pretty obvious, but as long as they worked. Waving a hand in front of her stoney stare, Pete chuckled to himself as he amused himself with trying to make her blink until he caught one and pointed at it with an “a-ha!”. “Sure, I get that. We all have our types. Just a little suspicious how yours changed after a certain someone, but I mean, that’s enough calling you out for now. I know you already know it, deep down. You don’t need to say it out loud”.7 July 2021

Ariana: With her own confidence standing at high levels, Ariana took the possibly regretful move to stand closer to Pete, her head tilting back as she gave a harsh stare eye to eye. "Really pay attention to me being this close to you and give it your best shot to be as much of an asshole as you can be. Just give me all the reason to walk out of this place now and possibly get kidnapped off the streets." At this point, it was just embarrassing how obvious it was that Ariana secretly craved to be in Pete's presence. No matter what she said and how hard she tried to act like she couldn't stand him - though sometimes it was true but only to a certain extent - she never really gave herself the closure of ending things with Pete more properly. Only an abrupt break up like theirs could leave a part of her missing him like this. "Not all of us can go off the rails and date women from all ends of the spectrum, Pete. Can't tell if you're into moms or the barely legal at this point. Think I'm out on top with this battle."

Pete: Without Ariana even needing to instruct him to pay attention, all of Pete's senses suddenly went into overdrive, they hadn't been this close since that one day where she flew to New York after finding out he'd been struggling, but even so, this was under completely different circumstances, and as much as he tried to fight off all the overwhelming feelings that consumed him when she was near, he couldn't, and he fucking hated that. He fucking hated her for still having such a hold on him. "I literally wish I never met you". He spoke abruptly, knowing the same words from her mouth would've probably crushed him, but voicing them anyway. Well, she'd asked him to be an asshole, hadn't she? And he still wasn't quite sure if that was because she lowkey got off on it, or if it was because she was looking for a reason to walk away and never look back. Either way, he'd give it to her, and there was no time like the present, not now they were finally back face-to-face with one another. "You knew how much I loved you," he pointed the joint-sandwiched-fingers in her direction. "You knew how easy it was for me to get completely caught up in that whole fairytale without a fucking care in the world. I fucked over...so many people-" starting with Cazzie, his girlfriend that he dropped at the first sign of Ariana showing interest, despite that relationship already being on it's last legs. Her father, Larry David, the comedian, who had always been like a mentor to him who now probably couldn't be in the same room without his stomach turning. Not to mention all the people who seemingly hated him straight off the bat for the whirlwind nature of how they got together, without them actually knowing a fucking thing about how much the pair actually cared for each other. Even his mom, his therapist, his SNL co-stars and his neighbors cat reprimanded him for getting into such a public, full-on relationship. But the truth was - neither of them could help it. When you loved someone that much, all you want to do is shout it from the rooftops, which is exactly what they did. Just...more of a 21st century version. "And don't get me wrong. I'm not blaming you for shit. I know neither of us could've known how it was going to end, and it was the most awful fuckin' thing we could've had to go through - so for /both/ of our sake, I wish you never would've waltzed into the writers room that day. Or at least, I wish you would've left it at that. Why try and get in contact with me years later as if I hadn't already been trying to get you out of my head all that time? That's just cruel. I think you're cruel".

Ariana: It was stupid of her to think things weren't going to be in this direction. After the pain she put him through, the pain she suffered herself, there was no way it'd just be a snappy back and forth with annoyance. It was clear things lead straight to a place of hurting, opening old wounds that she helplessly hoped would have healed. Her own couldn't even heal, why should his? Hearing his words practically spit at her face caused that same old ache to return to her heart, the feeling as if she was shrinking in front of him consuming her entirely. This wasn't him being an asshole, this was him being honest and that hurt more than any terrible joke he could make at her expense. "Pete.." Her voice broke, something it practically never did due to how strong she kept it, but this pain was something else. It's like she could feel Pete's pain just from how heavy it was on him. With shaky hands, Ariana began to lift them to press to his cheeks but they hesitated, knowing they had no right to touch. "I know what I am.. I am cruel," with eyes shiny from watering up, Ariana's throat grew tighter as she tried finding the words to say, "I know I am, 'cause if I wouldn't, I would be doing everything I could to make you forget about me. I just can't forget about you. I can't forget about how in love I was with you. How hard it hit so fast.." Ariana looked down for a brief moment to let her tears fall when it became too much to hold back, wiping them away quickly before looking at him again. "I don't have a reason that could justify doing this to you again, Pete. It's selfish, that's all it is. I've been cruel, I've been selfish, and I've been missing you and the way it was to be near you. Being in the same room as you again gives me more of a high than anything you have in this place. I should have helped it and stayed away, but I.. I just couldn't. I'm sorry, Pete. I'm so fucking sorry for all of it. For this. For your sake, I wish you never had to meet me either."

Pete: It took only moments after his rant for Pete to regret every single word of it - the front that he’d spent so long putting up in order to seem completely fine without her in his life had massive gaping holes in it now, and it only took a matter of a few seconds. But mainly, he hated seeing her cry. He’d seen far too much of it in the last few weeks than he’d ever wanted to, and this time it’d been him that caused them. “Fuck…” he let out, dropping the joint that had long gone out to the ground as he ran his hands over his face in exasperation. “No. No, that wasn’t fair of me, I didn’t mean it-“ he backtracked, though she had to have known deep down he kind of did. “Well, fuck it, I did. But I’m just as selfish as you. We /both/ knew nothing good could come from this, and we both wanted it anyway. I’d be completely embarrassed by it if I didn’t think we were in the exact same position right now..” he admitted, gaze practically burning a hole into her as he dipped his head to her level, adrenaline coursing through his veins the closer he got. “I just fucking miss you, and I’d take anything at this point…”. He spoke lowly, giving into every urge in his entire body right now by letting his lips catch her bottom one as he enunciated each word with a slow, tentative lingering kiss, each one feeling like an ex junkie taking another hit after years of abstaining. “I miss you so…” there was one hit. “Fucking” and another. “Much”.

Ariana: Ariana wouldn't have allowed Pete to take back what he had said. Of course she wouldn't hold it against him because she knew it to be true, but she certainly didn't want Pete to feel like he had to take it back for her own sake. She deserved to hear it and she was glad when Pete confirmed that he meant to say it. They needed to say this to each other, clearly pushing it back was the worst thing they could do. With the singer's head tilted back so she could look up at him in the eyes, any tears left pooled to the outer corners of her eyes and slowly streamed down while she tried to collect her mind and thoughts together. "I didn't want the way things ended to be the last time I was near you.. it still feels too open, too raw..-" her voice slowly cut off as she noticed exactly how Pete was now looking at her, his words causing her heart to beat faster, the pounding practically settling in her throat until the tension finally broke and she felt his lips on her own. Unlike before, her hands came up without any hesitation to hold onto his jaw while kissing him back, the small space between them now becoming as little as possible. "Pete," Ariana muttered against her ex-fiance's lips before becoming caught up in each kiss over and over. "I don't want," her hands slipped to hold the back of his neck to keep him there, "just don't want to miss you anymore."

Pete: Even as he pulled partially away from each kiss, Petes eyes remained shut, afraid to meet her own and face the reality that he’d fucked up by taking the plunge and misjudging the situation, but with each new time their lips met, it struck him over and over again that she was /actually/ kissing him back. Once again, his impulsive thoughts were not just his own, yet he still couldn’t help apologising for them. “I’m sorry,” he muttered, hands going into the back of her hair as they both held onto eachother like something that could easily be pried away. “I just can’t…be around you and not…” want to kiss her, obviously. But he wasn’t about to even get started on the encyclopaedia of other things he’d do to her right now if she just said the word. Shaking his head in frustration, their foreheads balancing against one another’s, he tried to consider a time where they could be in eachothers lives without him wanting to be hers, but it seemed impossible at this moment in time, when there was so much built up tension from over the years just ready to burst. “I cant bare it”.

Ariana: Maybe these feelings that consumed every inch of her body while kissing Pete were a reminder that they never had closure like this. For a relationship that ended as quickly as it had began, Ariana didn't end things the way she would have truly wanted. The way that would have kept the both of them from hurting so much, but everything felt impossible back then. Now that she was kissing and feeling him again and being held by his hands, everything that she had missed with him, maybe it wouldn't have to be as painful the next day. "Then don't, Pete.." She instinctively went back in for another kiss despite trying to talk to him, her arms dropping down to hold onto his slim torso, hands pressed to his back to keep him from pulling off. "Don't stop yourself from doing what you want.. I'm here.. I want it." With their foreheads together, Ariana took the moment to bask in the air they were currently sharing as they breathed. "I want what you want."

Pete: With the verbal confirmation that he needed coming from Ariana, Pete smiled the first genuine smile that he’d actually cracked in her presence in a matter of years, an exhale of disbelief passing through his lips before he rapidly pressed them back to hers, scooping her petite frame off the floor and spinning them so she was propped up against the balcony railing. The whole thing would’ve felt pretty precarious yet there was no way Ariana’s body would’ve gone anywhere with how tightly he clung onto it, his hands winding her legs around his slim frame as if he’d happily be crushed between her thighs like the victim of a boa constrictor. And besides, nothing could’ve been more dangerous than getting involved with her again, but he’d risk it all in that moment. “God I’ve never been so grateful for your stubborn ass for bringing you round here-“ he added breathlessly, apparently neither of them knowing whether they wanted to make up for lost time through kissing or voicing the thoughts that were racing through his mind at a million miles a minute.

Ariana: No feeling could ever compare to the one that consumed Ariana the very second she saw the one person smile because of her that she feared she'd never make smile again. Especially when his smile had always been one of her favorites. With her arms and legs quickly wrapping around his body as if nothing else could ever make her feel as steady, Ariana let a soft gasp leave her lips at how quick he was to handle her like that. And there it was. The kind of comment that would make Ariana laugh, primarily shown through videos uploaded to Instagram. The airy giggle that he would do easily pull out of her now leaving her lips again. "So convinced this couldn't be a good idea, but had to do it anyway." With her arms letting go, but legs remaining tight around him, Ariana brought her hands up to comb through his hair and make a grip in order to pull him in more determinedly, putting pure energy into their kiss as if they'd only see another day on this earth as long as they kept their lips together like this. "Needed to do it.. now I just.. I need you."

[faierius]

In His Shoes (6. Baby Steps)

Chapter One (Can’t We All Just Get Along?)

Chapter Two (Out Of Body Experience)

Chapter Three (We Don’t Talk About That)

Chapter Four (My Body Won’t Change My Heart)

Chapter Five (Myth and Mystery)

               “You’re staring again,” Ignis pointed out as he glowered at the single ancient book Dave managed to find for him.

               “You like it when I stare,” Gladio countered, smirking.

               “That hardly makes it any less distracting.” Sighing, Ignis lifted his head. “Besides, you’re not staring at me, you’re staring at Noctis.”

               Gladio blew a raspberry. “It’s still you. No one else gets this adorable little crease between their brows when they concentrate like you do.” Winking, Gladio reached out and poked Ignis between the eyes.

               “Cut that out. Need I remind you of the no touching rule?” Ignis grumbled, sweeping Noctis’ bangs aside for the hundredth time.

               “Relax, Ig. It was just a poke.”

               “Nevertheless, please refrain. I knew how difficult that is.” Brow marred by a deep scowl, Ignis sat up and crossed his arms. “How does he even function when he can’t see what’s in front of him through this hair?”

               Gladio’s face brightened with a grin and he sat up straight. “Wait right there. I’ve got just the thing!” Bounding out of his chair with more speed than he usually had, Gladio jogged to where they parked the car. Opening the trunk, he rifled around in their scant luggage for a few seconds before finding what he was searching for. Ignis could see his teeth-baring grin from here as he hid something in his vest, stood up, and closed the trunk.

               “I will say, your emotions are much more exaggerated on Prompto’s face,” Ignis commented with a quirked brow when Gladio returned.

               “Didn’t think my emotions were ever unclear,” Gladio replied with a shrug, standing before Ignis.

               “That is not what I said. What are you doing?”

               “Close your eyes.”

               Ignis sighed. “I don’t have time for games, Gladio.”

               “C’mon. Please?”

               Shrugging, Ignis closed his eyes. “Fine, but please keep the touching to a minimum.”

               “Yeah, yeah.”

               Ignis listened to the humor in the man’s voice and tried not to roll his eyes. Something gently touched the sides of his head and slid back into his hair. Rough, slender fingers grazed his cheeks as the thing was properly positioned under his drooping bangs. Gladio tilted the object and pushed it back, up on top of his head, settling it in place.

               “There! That should be better.”

               “A hairband, Gladio? Really?” The corner of his mouth curved.

               Spreading his hands wide, Gladio shrugged. “Hey, if it works, it works, right?”

               A shorter strand of hair sprung free from the band. “I suppose that’s true. Why do you have this, anyway?”

               “Oh, it’s not mine. I saw Prompto using it a couple times to wash his face in the morning.”

               “Hopefully he won’t mind me using it. Tomorrow I’ll have a better solution.” Adjusting the hairband, Ignis turned back to the book.

               “What, no thank you?” Gladio grumbled, pouting.

               Ignis smirked. “Thank you, Gladio. I appreciate it.”

               Satisfied, Gladio dropped back into his chair and resumed his staring. “That’s a cute look for you,” he said after a moment.

               “Not me, remember?”

               Gladio rolled his eyes and leaned forward, folding his arms on the table. “Look, I don’t care what you say. Right now, you are Ignis. I don’t see Noct when I look at you, I see Ignis Scientia. You still have the same mannerisms, the same attitude, the same speech pattern. For all intents and purposes, you are you.”

               “While that may be, I…”

               “See? Even you can’t give me a valid excuse. You are my Iggy, no matter what form you happen to have.”

               Pinching the bridge of his nose, Ignis let out a hefty sigh. “We put rules in place for a reason, Gladio.”

               “Yeah, I know. But honestly, those reasons are kinda dumb.”

               Brow furrowed deeply, Ignis glared across the small table at Gladio. “How so? Will you be saying that if you somehow come away from this with a residual attraction to Noctis?”

               “He’s not my type, Iggy. If he were, you and I wouldn’t be together.”

               “Type or no, it may happen. So please, try and keep your hands to yourself. It’s difficult for me, too.”

               Gladio studied the man’s face for a moment. “Jealousy seems beneath you, Ignis.”

               A deep blush settled on his cheeks. “Why would you say that?”

               Crossing his legs, Gladio propped an elbow on the table and gave a half shrug. “You’re too smart to get jealous.”

               “Emotions and intelligence have nothing to do with one another. I am just as capable of jealousy as you. Perhaps more so given who I am and who you are.”

               Gladio’s brow twitched. “What’s that mean?”

               Sighing heavily, Ignis leaned back in his seat and crossed his arms. “You, Gladiolus Amicitia, are a flirt. I’ve yet to decide if it’s intentional or not, but nearly every woman, and more than a few men, you’ve spoken to go starry-eyed. You’re very good at making people feel like they’re the center of the universe when you converse with them. Now, of course I’m not telling you to change or to stop because even if you are doing it on purpose, it makes people happy. And happiness is in limited supply these days. You are very friendly, Gladio, and…” Ignis trailed off with yet another sigh. “I’m babbling now. How unbecoming.”

               “No, no!” Gladio sat up straight, extending one arm across the table. “I like hearing this. You’re always so quiet about stuff like this, so it’s a nice change hearing you voice it.”

               Ignis grumbled low in his throat. He turned away from Gladio, studying the scrub grass and rocks at his feet. “Now isn’t a good time to be discussing the intricacies of our relationship. Let me just say, I am quite capable of jealousy, I just have the good sense not to make it obvious.”

               Gladio seemed to deflate against the table. “Okay, okay. I’ll let it go for now. I’m gonna go find Prompto so we can do a little training. Find something good for us, babe.” Lightly smacking the table, Gladio sprung to his feet.

               “I shall do my utmost.”

               Walking past the man, Gladio offered a smile and couldn’t resist brushing his fingers across the back of Ignis’ hand on his way by. A sigh followed him.

               Satisfied with the note of frustration he heard, Gladio left Ignis to pour over his dusty old book. Stuffing his hands in his pockets, he wandered in the direction he saw Noctis and Prompto go earlier.

               It was strange, walking through a populated place and not having anyone try and strike up a conversation with him. Sure, people acknowledged him, some even smiled, but it wasn’t the same. He had no idea Prompto was so…maybe unpopular wasn’t the right word. The kid wasn’t bad looking, he was even kinda funny. Scrappy was a good descriptor, too. He was a good person, straight through. Then again, Gladio recalled how shy Prompto had been when they first met. He had opened up to them easily enough, but that didn’t mean he was like that with everyone.

               Frowning, Gladio shook his head and rounded the fence at the entrance of Meldacio. It took him a second to spot the pair. Sitting shoulder to shoulder on the ground, the overgrown grass did a fair job of hiding them. The nook they found for themselves was quiet and semi-private, yet still in the pool of light cast by the giant stadium lights used to keep daemons at bay. It was a nice little spot; Gladio would have to keep it in mind for next time they came out this way.

               “Hope I’m not interrupting anything,” he announced as he strolled over to them.

               “Not really. What’s up, Gladio?” Noctis greeted, not moving from where he sat, knees bent, and arms propped on top.

               “Iggy find anything yet?” Prompto added.

               “Nah, not yet,” Gladio replied, gazing out at the road.

               Noctis scoffed. “You were probably bugging him, weren’t you?”

               Gladio shrugged, smirking. “Maybe a little bit. But I’ve left him to it for now. If anyone can dig something up for us, it’ll be Iggy.”

               “So, you came to irritate us instead?”

               Rolling his eyes, Gladio kicked the toe of Noctis’ boot. “Pretty sure you’re the irritating one, Prince Charmless,” he retorted, but there was no heat in his voice. “I came to try and do something proactive while Ignis does his research. I need to borrow Prompto.”

               “Training?” Prompto asked, resigned.

               “Training.”

               Pushing himself to his feet, Prompto sighed. “Shouldn’t be too hard learning to swing a sword, right?”

               “Just think of your short sword training with Cor, only it’s bigger and weighs the same as you,” Noctis told him.

               “I’m hoping we can use muscle memory to make this easier,” Gladio said, stretching his arms. “These bodies are used to the weapons, so it shouldn’t be too bad.”

               “Muscle memory may help a little, but you still gotta be able to aim a gun,” replied Prompto.

               “I’m sure I can manage, pipsqueak.”

               Prompto grinned. “It’s not as easy as I make it look.”

               “And neither is swinging that sword.”

               Noctis found himself smirking at the good-natured ribbing. It was nice to see their playful, competitive behavior again. He liked seeing Prompto smile, no matter the reason.

               Watching the pair summon their new-to-them weapons, Noctis slowly rose to his feet. He saw the surprise on Prompto’s face when he lifted the giant sword with little effort and chuckled to himself.

               “Where ya goin’, Noct?” Prompto asked when he caught Noctis strolling toward the open gate. Gladio focused his attention on him as well.

               “To have a much-needed shower. Have fun.” Giving them a two-fingered wave, Noctis left them to their business. Stretching, he inhaled a rib-stretching breath and wandered back to the caravan. It was no hotel, but it was miles better than another night in the tent.

               Pausing on the steps up to the door of the caravan, Noctis tilted his head in thought. He realized for the first time in days he wasn’t feeling too bad. He was about to take care of the dirt and battle grime clinging to him, and his mood was light despite the dire problem they were in. Something told him this was supposed to be a test of some kind. A learning experience.

               Noctis let himself into the caravan and shucked his clothes. Taking a moment to admire Ignis’ lithe muscle, he stepped into the tiny shower. It was so much more cramped now that he was taller. And wider.

               Noct snorted as the lukewarm water poured over his head. Prompto trying to shower later would be fun to witness. Okay, so this might not be all bad. And it was a learning experience. He recalled Gladio’s words about getting along again. By living as one another, they could experience first hand all those nit-picky problems they complained about. Maybe learn to tolerate one another better.

               A tap on the door made Noctis jump and smack into the wall of the shower.

               “Noct, I hope you don’t plan on using all of the water!” Ignis called from the other side.

               Shutting off the water, Noct opened the door and stepped out into the cool air of the caravan.

               “Towel, Highness,” sighed Ignis, handing over the fluffy white article.

               “Ashamed of your own nakedness?” laughed Noctis, accepting the towel and wrapping it around his hips. Water dripped consistently from the ends of his flat hair, running down his neck, back, and chest.

               Clicking his tongue, Ignis rolled his eyes. “Hardly. I’d rather not have my body returned to me with a cold. Dry your, or rather my hair, will you please?” Dropping a second towel on top of Noctis’ head, Ignis started picking up the dirty clothes littering the floor.

               “Hey, I’ll get that.”

               Ignis paused, hand hovering over a sock.

               “Don’t look at me like that, Specs. You need a shower, too. Better hop in before the water hogs get here. I’ll clean up.”

               As Ignis straightened up, suspicion painted his features. “Are you sure, Highness?”

               Noctis just waved at him. Still dripping water, he set to picking up the clothes he dropped everywhere.

               “Thank you…Noctis.”

               As the shower door closed, Noctis wasn’t sure if the light flutter in his chest was a figment of his imagination or not.

[danisnotofire]

Do you have any advice for writing? I used to do it all the time but then I just didnt have time for it anymore. And now I want to get back into it and I keep trying to write, but Im hit with this overwhelming doubt/anxiety that it sucks. And I dont plan on posting my writing anywhere so I dont understand why Im so nervous about writing to the point where I want to cry and cant do it. And I really want to work through it but its just so difficult. Any advice? -🌳

i’m not sure how good i’ll be at giving advice on this, because i often feel the same way!!! 

but ig that leads me to my first point, anon, and that is, you have to understand that that anxious feeling never really goes away. sometimes you feel better about it, sure, and sometimes you’ll write something and know you were meant to write it, but 98.7% of the time you will be screaming and crying into ur document and thinking you’ve been a failure and faking any ability to write this whole time. you have to understand that that’s all part of it. but you have to understand: it doesn’t mean you’re a bad writer. i really think you have to internalize that if u ever wanna write anything. 

the best thing to get over feeling awkward and robotic is to separate yourself from what you’re writing. when i got back into writing fic (it’d been like, legit 4 years lmaooo) it was hard to put myself aside and stop feeling weird about writing it. i felt that same stiffness/awkwardness when i started journaling too. the best thing you can do for it is just understand that nobody is going to read it unless you want them to. it’s not going anywhere. the only person who’s gonna judge it is you. 

once you get over that, write as much as fucking possible. it doesn’t need to be a lot. it can be a sentence. it can be a few hundred words. it can be a fuckin novel. just write something. the only reason i’m VAGUELY good is because i’ve been doing it for a longass time. 

i’ve been writing creatively on and off since like,,, third grade. i’m now a sophomore in college. you just gotta churn out as much content as possible. i promise you, eventually it will be good. 

if you can, i think writing classes are actually super helpful for this. i used to kind of shun them and look down on them because i thought somebody teaching me how to write would take away my own style. it actually helped me refine it, mostly because it got me into writing again after going so long without it. i was forced to write every week for a whole semester, and it kind of became a habit that i continued all through the summer.

fun fact: i don’t think no such mirrors would exist in the form it does now if i hadn’t taken that class!!

BUT: I get that classes aren’t always available to you. there are definitely ways u can get urself in that habit!!! you can do nanowrimo (which i did my freshman and sophomore years of high school, where you write 50k in 30 days just to pretty much see if you can. i CANNOT recommend nanowrimo enough. up until no such mirrors, that was my proudest artistic accomplishment)

FIND TIME TO WRITE WHENEVER, WHEREVER YOU CAN. you are going to have to sacrifice certain things to find time to write, but that’s all part of it. i struggled in doing this when i started school this semester because i went from having mostly my entire week free to having like, zero time to write, which is why it took a month for no such mirrors to update. it also sucked because writing makes me feel better about myself, because it helps me be a more productive member of society or something, and so, although it was hard, it became super important to me to find a time to fit that back into my schedule (i ended up carving out a few hours after my last class of the day on MWF, which happened to be my english class with a prof whomst i ADORE, so i always left feeling super inspired. and now i usually go to the silent floor of the library for a few hours and pound out a few thousand words. it’s not ideal, and ofc i’d rather be taking a nap or decompressing from class, but at least it’s something!) 

i know this is harder to do, but i really do think posting your work helps!! i love writing fic because you get INSTANTANEOUS feedback on your skills, and it helps you develop them in a (largely) positive and supportive atmosphere. the people who are reading fic are the people who WANT to like it, who are just desperate for any content they can get. it’s such a good space to learn and grow as a writer (i started writing and posting fic when i was like, 12 years old. my percy jackson days. pre-tumblr. lmao #neverforget) 

i know this is SUPER FUCKING CHEESY, but another thing that helps you become a better writer is to read as much as possible. read anything. read fanfiction from authors you admire. read YA novels. read children’s books. read the classics. 

and then, (and this is something i will shamelessly do lol), pick your favorites, and try and mimic their style as an exercise!!! i recently read james joyce’s “a portrait of the artist as a young man” for class. it’s now one of my favorite books. and so what i did was go to google docs and pound out a few hundred words just trying to mimic the style. it ended up being a weird 1500-word-wip. most of it is garbage, but i wrote lines i’m really fucking proud of. 

obviously don’t like, plagiarize. but what i’ve come to understand is that you can learn something from everything you read. whether it’s a certain type of metaphor, or a kind of characterization, or the art of simplicity, or a way of writing dialogue, or a stylistic thing. and by mimicking that style as a writing exercise or using their style as inspiration for your own work, you help refine what you like, and what your style is. 

i will never be james joyce. that’s pretty obvious. but my version of james joyce is its own style of writing altogether, and it’s not necessarily bad! it’s its own style that i can then learn bits and pieces from later on. to me, writing is this weird ungodly mix of natural ability/learned style and compiling what you like about other authors into your own work. it’s a messy process, but eventually you will churn out something you like. and that’s what matters: producing content that you enjoy. everything else will come in time. (did i think anybody would read engagement sequence? uh, no. i hoped they would, and honestly i do wish that fic was recognized more than it was (bc any author who says they don’t care about feedback is LYING) but mostly i was writing it because i had SO MUCH FUN writing that fic. i’m probably most proud of that piece of writing out of everything i’ve ever written. it came from me combining poetry and prose into this weird pseudo mix of both) 

another thing that’s easier said than done: DO NOT COMPARE YOURSELF TO OTHER AUTHORS. this is something i CONSTANTLY struggle with (to the point where i get SUPER down on myself if i’m not getting the same amount of anons asking about my work or comments or kudos or fuckin’ whatever). it’s something i CONSTANTLY have to work on, but it’s so so important, and the sooner you start working away from this habit the better off you’ll be. 

if anything, USE these authors as people to learn from!! ask them questions about their process!! read their works and take note of what worked really well and how they executed it, so maybe you can incorporate that into things that you write later on. 

IMPORTANT: COMMENT ON WORKS. COMMENTING ON WORKS DOESN’T ONLY BENEFIT THE AUTHOR, BUT IT ALSO BENEFITS YOU AS A WRITER. commenting helps you specify and work out EXACTLY what you liked about a certain piece. even if you don’t think it does anything, it actually puts words to specific things that you like, which then helps you incorporate it into your own writing. also?? long, thoughtful comments make an author’s fuckin DAY. someone once left like an 8 paragraph review on my fic, and i could. not. stop. rereading. it. for the better part of a week. TRULY. 

take yourself less seriously. honestly. as much as it kind of sucks, writing is supposed to be fun and ultimately, it’s supposed to be rewarding. let yourself experiment with style and dialogue and characterization. who fucking cares? i wrote 300 words about spaghetti steam as a metaphor for jeremy’s parents’ divorce the other day. it doesn’t matter! nobody will read it!! that’s what editing is for.  

it also might help to talk about your writing process!! i know i love doing this, and i see loads of other authors do it too. it’s so, so, so fun to complain about writing, because writing is really fucking hard. even the pieces that come easiest to me are still a pain in the ass to write. 99.99% of the time i write, i would rather be doing something, anything else. who wants to sit and cry into a computer screen? nobody in their right mind. ya do it because you love it, and you love the final product and you love seeing what you’re able to do, what you’re capable of creating. 

if you’re having trouble starting, pick literally the first thing that comes to mind and write as much or as little as you fuckin’ want. remember, you’re in control! you can do as much or as little as you want. when i started writing no such mirrors, i had NO IDEA it was gonna become what it was. i started the fic with jeremy throwing a baseball up in the air and some random dialogue. i didn’t know what role everybody else was gonna play. i didn’t know it was gonna turn into an actual fucking novel. i had no idea! i just had the idea of jeremy laying on his back and tossing a baseball into the air repeatedly. why? i legitimately could not tell you! but it worked. it felt right and natural and easy, and here we are 72k later. 

that being said, IT’S NOT ALWAYS GOING TO FEEL RIGHT AND NATURAL AND EASY! you’re just gonna have to write through that! it’s gonna fucking suck a lot of the time, especially with longer works! i fucking hate certain chunks of no such mirrors, to the point where i can’t even bear to look at them. 

this leads into another point, which is….

you’re going to feel like you’re faking it. that’s okay. keep writing. i doubt in my abilities every. goddamn. day. i reread my fics probably daily and can’t understand why anybody would like them, half the time. i feel like the characters’ interactions are forced and awkward and unnatural, i think the dialogue is boring, i think their feelings don’t feel real and i don’t feel like their motivations have depth. i feel like the plot is hanging on with masking tape and thread. every author will feel this way at some point or another. i know that sounds fake, because i’ll read posts like that from my favorite authors and can’t believe they would write anything except perfection. so you have to remember, it’s in your head most of the time. 

however, that’s not to say you’re perfect. you aren’t. there’s no such thing as a perfect writer. sometimes it’s healthy to listen to that voice in your head to try and improve. you just can’t let it become the loudest part of your writing process. 

so yeah! those are my writing tips!! that was a lot and im really sorry if it was all cliche and cheesy bullshit, but i promise they work, or at least help a little bit!! 

i hope you can get out of ur slump, because i love writing so much and hope i never stop doing it (even if i say i hate it l o l) and i really hope you can get to the point where you feel comfortable saying the same

[neverisalongtime-ja-blog]

Chapter 25: #ThePinkAndBlueDay

Hello everyone! I want to say that today’s chapter is on of my all time favorite! I love it, is different but is so cool! I want to read what you think about it so leave feedback!

BTW Next week is the turn of the Josh POV chapter so I hope you all are as excited as I am!

Thanks to everyone who reads the fic, much love to you all! ♥ 

Remember to visit Anastasia’s IG profile:

Anastasia_Truman  ❤️️

Read chapter 24

Those days in Los Angeles were weird for Anastasia. She didn’t feel comfortable with herself, she couldn’t stop comparing to Josh’s new girl, who was younger and obviously more vibrant than her. She locked herself in her house for a couple of days, alone. She did it as an exercise to find herself again, to learn and love herself again. She took long baths, cooked nice food, watched Netflix, wrote songs, recorded some of them and even swam in her heated pool.

She was starting to enjoy being alone. The past months she spent all of her nights with either Josh or Mandy. This time, she was all by herself and by the third day she was liking it. That didn’t mean she was over the situation, the image of Josh and Lauren didn’t leave her head for a second. Anastasia kept feeling empty, sad and hopeless, the natural stages of a breakup, a breakup that happened almost two months ago and that she was still suffering from. When she thought she was over it she found out that Josh had cheated on her and she believed things couldn’t get worse, but she didn’t want to say it because things could always get worse.

One Thursday morning, the blue-haired girl received a call from Eric, saying that in the afternoon they would have an appointment to get matching tattoos with the band logo. It was something they’d been planning for a while, it had been Mandy’s idea and finally Eric made the appointment. The band’s logo was Nick’s creation, Anastasia has always been obsessed with the moon as it involved an important part of her life and beliefs. One night at Nick and Mandy’s childhood house, looking at a sky dressed with plenty stars and a full moon in all its glory, the blonde guy came up with the idea of two circles forming a full and crescent moon, representing ups and downs of the career they chose to have. It was an instant yes for the rest of the band members and now they were on the way to have it forever on their skin.

It was the first tattoo for Eric and Anastasia; the siblings were much familiarized with ink. Mandy already had seven small tattoos and Nick had four large marks on his right arm and on his back. Anastasia was excited and nervous, which was normal, Eric had a little more confidence. Anastasia decided to make her double moon in dark blue with four vertical dots in the lower part representing the four members of Dead Curse; she chose to have it on her right forearm, in the middle of it. Mandy had it on her left ribs and the design was the logo in light blue with a watercolor style background simulating the night sky, remembering the day the sign was created. Nick chose the circles in black on his right shoulder with four stars also in black, and the spot chosen by Eric was under his left elbow, just the circles in dark blue because he like it how it looked on Anastasia’s skin.

That was a great afternoon, the four Dead Curse members were already very close but to share that experience created a new bond between them.

-          How have you been feeling? – Eric asked Anastasia while giving her a ride back home, just the two of them.

-          I don’t know, I fear this is a never ending thing – Anastasia said.

-          With Josh? – Eric asked again.

-          I don’t know what’s next and at the same time I’m afraid there’ll be nothing more – She said looking out the window – Like he’s going on with his life and I’m stuck in this hole waiting for… I don’t know what I’m waiting for to be honest.

-          You hope to be back with him – Eric said as if he were reading Anastasia’s mind. She looked at him.

-          That’s not gonna happen – Anastasia said – I don’t want it to happen. I don’t know if I can forgive him. How can I trust him again?

-          Time heals – Eric said – And I recognize real love when I see it, I have it with Hannah and I know you had it with Josh.

-          You said it: had it.

-          You don’t love him anymore? – Eric said and laughed – Bullshit – He parked his car in front of Anastasia’s house – Do you want to know the reason he broke up with you?

-          He found a better girl.

-          No. I had a conversation with him last night, I’m gonna email it to you – He said taking his phone. Anastasia’s phone beeped letting her know she had new mail – Read it.

-          Thanks for the ride, it was a great day – She said, shut the car door and didn’t look back.

Maybe Eric was right. No, Eric was definitely right. She still loved Josh and she didn’t want to because it was very obvious that he didn’t love her back. He loved a younger, fitter, blonder girl and that’s the scene she tried to tattoo on her mind, she wanted it to be etched in her head like the mark that had been made on her arm that afternoon: forever, so to have a reason to lose the love she had for Josh.

She looked at her phone and saw the message with the conversation Eric sent to her. She was tempted to open it but after thinking about it she let her phone down. She just wanted to forget Josh and maybe that email wouldn’t help. She walked up the stairs to do the tattoo cleaning proceeding the tattoo artist instructed her to do. She took a bath, laid down in her bed, and turned on the TV, on a channel that just showed old movies. Breakfast at Tiffany’s appeared on the screen, she stayed there watching her favorite movie about a high level prostitute, because that’s what Audrey Hepburn character was, read between the lines. After the movie she felt asleep.

Next day she woke up late, her phone alarm didn’t go off and then she remembered she left her phone downstairs the night before. She brushed her teeth thinking about that damn email Eric sent her yesterday.  She still wasn’t sure about reading it, it could change everything… or it could change absolutely nothing. She decided to have breakfast first, a nice avocado toast, well, she went for two avocado toasts, orange juice and a banana; she felt so healthy it was weird. She did the dishes and then she noticed the phone on her kitchen island, she took it impulsively, moved her fingertip to the mail app and opened it, and at that moment, at that precise moment, the screen turned black and a call went through. It was Mandy. Anastasia, frustrated, picked it up.

-          What are you doing? – Mandy asked with her sweet voice.

-          I just had breakfast and you? – Anastasia asked back.

-          Not much – Her friend replied – Do you want to spend the day at Venice with me?

-          Even if I want to say no, I can’t – Anastasia replied with a laugh.

-          You can but I wouldn’t accept it – Mandy said – I’ll pick you up in half hour, is that alright?

-          Sure!

 The phone went back to the original position and Anastasia ran upstairs to get a shower and dress up forgetting about the email.

 Venice was a place where the two friends always found peace. That crazy place filled with unique people, the shore and all the activities around made them feel like it was home. Venice was the place they went when they sneaked out of class back in the day; if they didn’t have plans on a Saturday they always visited Venice Beach.

 Mandy always had this dream of living in a colorful house in front of the Venice canals, with flowers in every window and a small boat on the canal in front of her porch. 

 The girls were thrift shopping on the main street in Venice near Pacific Ave, thrifting was a hobby they both had, finding amazing pieces with history always filled Anastasia with joy; she was a real fashion lover.

 -          Look at this jacket! – Anastasia said to Mandy showing her a biker jacket in electric metallic blue.

-          I love it – Mandy said going through her own rack of clothes – Oh my God! Look! – Mandy opened her eyes big; she found the same jacket in metallic pink.

-          It’s like heaven sent – Anastasia said and both laughed.

-          We should stop wearing clothes the same color of our hair, though – Mandy said.

-          Says who? – Anastasia asked looking at a pile of t-shirts.

-          Yeah… That’s not going to happen – Mandy said.

 After buying five pairs of pants, four skirts, the two jackets and almost ten t-shirts between the two, the friends walked to a sunglasses vendor spot on the boardwalk.

 -          Look, nineties babe – Anastasia said showing Mandy a pair of round sunglasses with a white frame.

-          Every damn shape of sunglasses looks good on your face. How is that possible? – Mandy said.

-          It is what it is – Anastasia said shrugging and trying on a wood frame this time.

-          Do you think that we’re childish? – Mandy suddenly dropped while trying on a heart-shaped frame in pastel pink.

-          No! – Anastasia answered – Why do you ask?

-          I had a fight with Peyton this morning – Anastasia understood why Mandy wanted to go to Venice – And he told me that I needed to grow up and stop wearing “stupid pink hair” – She said making quotation marks with her fingers.

-          I think Peyton is stupid – Anastasia was also wearing heart-shaped sunglasses in blue – Does Peyton think it’s stupid to match your clothes with your hair too? – Anastasia asked remembering the comment Mandy made at the thrift shop earlier.

-          Yes, he said that too – Mandy said still wearing the pink glasses.

-          Mandy! You don’t have to change because a man says so. Peyton felt in love with who you are, no matter if your hair is blonde, like when you met him, or pink – Anastasia said.

-          I know…

-          Why was the fight for?

-          I don’t really remember, something really stupid like leaving a glass were he doesn’t like – Mandy said – Every start of a season is the same. He becomes this anxious monster and everything bothers him.

-          It’s normal. He is nervous.

-          Yes, but he doesn’t need to take it on me.

-          I know, what an asshole – Anastasia saw her friend smile – I say you are going to buy those pink heart sunglasses and the ones with the blue crystal, and I’m going to get these ones in blue – She referred to the also heart-shaped glasses – and the ones with the white frame. But you have to wear the pink ones right now and I’ll be wearing the blue heart-shaped sunglasses.

-          We should wear our pink and blue jackets too! – Mandy said smiling.

 And so they did. The two girls looked like cartoon characters with jackets and sunglasses matching their hair but they were in Venice Beach so they blended right with the rest of the people there.

 -          Did you like your tattoo? – Mandy asked Anastasia walking on the boardwalk again.

-          I love it. It wasn’t half bad as I thought it would be – Anastasia answered.

-          See? I told ya – Mandy said – You know what I’m thinking? We have been friends for so long and have shared so many things, we shared high school, we share our career, we tried to share a house once, didn’t work out as we thought, but anyway. You’ve been a huge part of my life and have helped me during so many times of awe and suffering, you are my rock and I know I’m all of that to you too.

-          Oh God! Are you going to propose to me?

-          Anastasia Truman – Both girls stopped walking – Would you like to make me the happiest girl in the world and share a friendship tattoo with me so you can take me with you to eternity? – Anastasia covered her face with her hands and faked a huge smile.

-          YES! – She screamed – Aren’t you going to bend on one knee?

-          No, that would be too much.

-          That’s probably the only half proposition I will have in my life.

-          Let’s find a tattoo shop.

-          Oh! Are we gonna do it right now?

-          Yes! – Mandy laughed – There are many shops here, but I know one! Nick has a friend there.

 The two girls walked a little bit more until they found the tattoo shop Mandy was referring to. They went in and saw the guy Mandy was talking about

 -          Fred! – She called him. He was sitting on a table working on some drawings.

-          Amanda! – The guy said Mandy’s full name back. He was short, with short black hair and green emerald eyes in glasses with thick black frame, he was wearing a shirt with a black and white grip print and black pants. His body was full of tattoos, obviously.

-          Nobody calls me that way so don’t start – Mandy said – Fred did some of my ink work and some of Nick’s too. This is my friend Anastasia – Mandy introduced her to the guy, she smiled and they shook hands – We want tattoos, like right now.

-          Well, I don’t work on anybody without an appointment but for your luck I’m very free today, what do you want? – The girls looked at each other.

-          Good question – Anastasia said.

-          I don’t know. Not our names, that would be too cliché – Mandy said and Anastasia noticed she was still wearing her sunglasses.

-          I know! Hearts! A heart! In the left ring finger! It has the love vein which is connected to the heart – Anastasia said excited.

-          That’s why she is my friend; she’s the smart one – Mandy said to Fred.

-          Let me guess, you – he pointed to Anastasia – want it in blue and you – He pointed to Mandy – want it in pink – Fred said making reference to their outfits.

-          No – Mandy said – I will have the blue one and she will have the pink one – Anastasia smiled.

-          Let me warn you that fingers are a little bit painful but it will be alright because it’s just a small heart.

-          God! I’m so excited! – Mandy said hugging Anastasia – I’ll go first!

 Mandy took her turn and then it was time for Anastasia to sit. Fred was right, it hurt as hell but in a couple of minutes the pain was over and the tiny pink heart looked really cute in contrast with her pale skin, it almost looked like a birth mark, she was pleased and happy to see Mandy so joyful. They girls thanked Fred and hit the boardwalk one more time. Mandy took more snaps than Anastasia could count and posted a handful on Instagram, declaring that Friday with the hashtag #ThePinkAndBlueDay.

 Anastasia heard her stomach roar and decided it was time for food, they walked to a very nice place on Rose Avenue, it was a colourful café with a wall full of neon color graphic art and mini cars full of books. Everything was overwhelming at first, those bright tones, but once inside it fell cozy. Service was fast even though the place was crowded, within minutes Anastasia was enjoying a plate of Bucatini Carbonara and Mandy went for spaghetti with a miso sauce that was, surprisingly, pretty good. After a couple of drinks Anastasia remembered the email Eric sent her the day before.

 -          You know – Anastasia started to say – Yesterday while Eric was giving me a ride home he said that he knew the reason why Josh broke up with me and sent me an email of a convo they had.

-          And what does it say? – Mandy wanted to know.

-          I don’t know. I haven’t read it – Anastasia said.

-          Do you want to know the reason after all?

-          I’m a little bit curious, to be honest.

-          Well I’m curious too. Why lie?

-          What if it makes me feel worse?

-          What if it makes you feel better?

-          Do you really think knowing the real reason Josh broke up with me will make me feel better?

-          I don’t know. Maybe the reason is that he got into some kind of trouble with the mafia and he was forced to date the young daughter of the mob boss to pay for his debt.

-          Mandy! – Anastasia said laughing hard.

-          You’ll never know! You should read it and then think about it. I will be here to support you – Anastasia grabbed her phone – No! Not here. I don’t want people see us cry.

-          Do you think it will make me cry?

-          You never know – Mandy said repeating herself – Let’s go to your place and read it there. With a bottle of wine just in case.

-          You are quite a character – Anastasia kept laughing.

-          But before that, you have been through so much pain today – Mandy said pointing at her new tattoo– And you deserve ice cream.

 Before heading home the friends did a pit stop at an ice cream shop on Abbot Kinney Boulevard to grab some “Wildflower Honey Ricotta Walnut Cookies” ice cream for Anastasia and “Strawberry Honey Balsamic” for Mandy.

 -          Man! I didn’t even understand the name of the flavor but is so good – Mandy said while both tried each other’s choices of ice cream.

 The ride back home was filled with happiness. Anastasia loved to spend days like that with Mandy and she was more than happy with her new tattoo. It’s true what people said, the first time after having some ink it creates a kind of addiction and so far her ink marks were very pretty. Now they were at her place, sitting on her couch with her Macbook on her lap opening Eric’s email. Before clicking on it, she took a large sip of wine and opened the message. There was no turning back.

 It was a series of screenshots. Josh and Eric were having a conversation by text. Eric asked him about Anastasia and then the text exchange took a wild turn.

 Eric: How are things going?

Josh: Well... You know.

Eric: Did you get to talk to Anastasia in New York?

Josh: I didn’t have the balls to do it. Are you going to question that too?

Eric: No man, you are my friend after all.

Josh: She is too.

Eric: I’m not here to judge anybody. You must have a reason to do what you did.

Josh: I can control Lauren. Anastasia is a girl with her shit too together. – Anastasia and Mandy shared a glance.

Eric: Don’t you want a girl with her shit together?

Josh: An doesn’t need me. I have nothing to offer her. I’m making Lauren’s dreams come true. Which dreams can I make come true for Anastasia, a girl who has it all?

Eric: The dream of having a relationship?

Josh: I don’t know. I can’t assure you anything right now ‘cuz I know as soon as she comes back to regular touring I’m gonna fall for her again. I don’t know how to explain this. I love her but I can’t be with her, not right now. All the fame and the magazines thing don’t help. It freaks me out that she is too strong; she doesn’t need me, Eric. She doesn’t need me.

Eric: A relationship isn’t about needing, it’s about loving and you two love the shit out of each other. You literally have NOTHING in common with this girl yet you share so many passions with An.

Josh: I don’t know. I’m happy, though.

Eric: You are?

Josh: I’m having fun!

Eric: I have no doubt about that.

 -          So Josh is a pussy – Mandy said sipping some wine.

-          I don’t even understand. He left me because he can’t control me? – Anastasia said indignant – What kind of misogynist shit this is?

-          I don’t think it’s that way. I believe it has more to do with his low self-esteem. He found a girl, you, who was at his level, a little higher I would say, and he freaked about because he didn’t know how to handle himself in the relationship. I do believe he loves you, though. He is just lost.

-          I don’t give a fuck. He can get lost out of my life right now.

-          You know that’s going to be hard; especially now that we are gonna start touring again.

-          You’re right but this was an eye opener, definitely. I mean… Josh is a pussy – Both friends laughed. And after all Mandy was right, Anastasia felt immensely better now.

Read chapter 26