#god no fucking wonder he went insane over the idea of losing this .

[soullessjack]

every so often I remember that some of jacks real canon nicknames given to him are sweetheart and darling boy and I just. Collapse. Utter anguish and torment. he’s literally their sweetheart darling boy. Do you get it do you even fucking care

[animentality]

Gortash is such a smiley lovestruck idiot at his own coronation when Durge shows up and I have to wonder. Is it because he’s just so happy to see them again after not realising what he had until it was gone that all bets are off and, pretence be damned, he’s not wasting a minute of this second chance pretending Durge doesn’t make him the happiest evil bastard alive? Or did he ever let himself be a smiley lovestruck idiot around Durge before losing them too? Like do you think there was ever a moment before Durge went missing where Gortash was holding their face close to his and trying to kiss them but he couldn’t because he just could not stop smiling like dumbass over how genuinely in love happy this freak of nature Bhaalspawn has him. Did Durge ever have to try and process this — to look back at this guy giving them the dopiest grin and have to try and understand that it’s for them? Because of them? They, the Dark Urge, scion of Bhaal, prince of murder, are the one making Enver Gortash smile like a fool? Making someone not miserable, but happy? Or, oh god, did Gortash ever reduce Durge to a smiley lovestruck idiot themself?? Both of them, having to pause in the middle of making out to just cling to each other and laugh (or god forbid, giggle) because they BOTH can’t stop smiling? These two crazy evil fucks both genuinely giving each other nerves and butterflies and joy? Like we know they made each other insane but how much of it showed on their faces? Just how embarrassing was this relationship?????

ANON, your message had me giggling and kicking up my feet.

I think Gortash is naturally affable and warm, but to the Dark Urge specifically, he is being HONESTLY affectionate. We know he swept Jannath off her feet and was disgusting with Franc Peartree, but he would've been absolutely vile with the Dark Urge.

I would like to imagine these two laughably evil bitches being gross and soft with one another, but I don't know. They were definitely rough fucking in the alley, but were they ever sweet?

Did they ever use pet names or giggle or be silly?

I sort of lean towards no...but I can imagine them quietly, in a dignified, solemn manner, hugging each other close.

Not daring to speak aloud that which is forbidden, but they know it, they keep it between themselves anyway.

Hmmmm...

But.

But you know...

The way he greets you isn't an act. He seems to not know if you do have your memories, so I think he just acts like that towards you normally. Which means maybe he and the Dark Urge WERE very touchy feely and nasty in public.

But there is a lot of potential in the idea that maybe he did know you probably had lost your memories.

And he was relieved, because he's getting his love back, but even better, they can start over.

He can be warmer with them than he ever was before. He can present this as the norm.

He's so happy to see you because it's been too long, because he didn't know what he had until he lost you, and he needs you to know how much you mattered to him, but he's also just, so exhilarated, by the idea of a fresh start.

Hence, calling you a sight for sore eyes.

Calling you his favorite assassin.

Calling you brilliant and a genius.

Saying you'll be good for each other.

Being like an inch off from seizing you into a hug or fucking you.

It's just- ARGH.

Your entire ask rattled in my brain and I had to stare at it for a bit. Sorry for the delay.

[probablyaseamonster]

I just saw the trailer for the next Cult of the Lamb update and I'm having fuuuun/devious glee.

Sidenote but it'll be coming out a few days before my b-day so that's great! (I totally didn't need anymore signs from the gods that I need irl friends before I snap hehooo)

So, regarding the alternate universe vessel character.

(so far I've seen like 5 names that I love to death but I have a feeling I know the one in particular that is gonna settle before the others get considered. I could make a list if anyone wants to debate 'cause fandoms can settle Fast and I think there's some potential for layered contrast and just settling for the easy option would be disappointing. But I'm not the biggest fan anyway so maybe I shouldn't be so arrogant about it.)

I noticed how they were wearing purple robes and were often in purple lighting, obviously, the way everyone else did, but something might be wrong with my eyes cuz their crown colour seemed like, straight-up blue to me? I do have an eye injury atm so maybe that's legit. Seemed kinda glaring tho/pos

So now I've got two diverging paths I'm *scrawling* over/pos:

1- AU where Shamura is the one bound in chains (and Narinder the role of think no evil) and the player character serves the god of War instead of Death.

Look, the animatics just write themselves. Any God of War scene? You can warp and adapt. Also, the "Warrior of the Mind" animatic for anyone who got obsessed with Fate: the Musical recently. It's just potential!

I also like the idea of instead of the dynamic being black cat x deceptively wholesome shepherd, it's intellectual spider x scruffy goat with a knife.

On the OTHER hand, hear me out,

2- Kallamar & Narinder roleswap AU. This could have the personalities swap version (something something scaredy-cat), or a fun to imagine scenario where Kallamar became jaded enough to the point of nearly paralleling Narinder in formidable vengefulness while also having been just as much of a coward in the past. Basically he grew some courage but at what cost?

This would probably mean that Narinder stayed however he was before the betrayal and imprisonment, probably being the one to lose his ears, and maybe taking the role in the narrative as the sibling to run from the Goat after the two younger gods got taken out and the middle child realized he was next? I can't imagine Narinder throwing Shamura under the bus like that, maybe it was more like a "you can't kill me, it'll fuck everything up! You have to spare me or the last fight will take place in an even more fucked-up apocalyptic hellscape!").

If Narinder was still the one to first express discontent with Death, wonder how Sickness being restrained in the afterlife affected Narinder's situation... Or what if Narinder was like Shamura, and the two were conspirators, instead of Death by War it was Death by Plague? And Death stayed free but went deaf or insane? What would Kallamar have to gain from the idea of breaking past his cosmic role, thinking "okay but what if, immortality was an option?" remixed to be uh, maybe something to do with health? Immunity? Something bordering Frankenstein as an affront to nature?

As you can see I'm putting thoughts and curiosity into both ideas, the only thing I kinda hope becomes mainstream fanon is that the Goat is a bit like Lamb's opposite - wheras one is welcoming and soft but capable of horrors at night, and of course being a badass monster fighter - contrasted with an equally small and powerful but ig more unhinged-seeming up close for the first couple interactions (probably recruited individuals with a pitch like "look I'm the one with the weapon here, so you're gonna wanna get behind me even if you don't trust me with access to things") but then shows glimpses of a heart of gold that makes followers feel safe enough to stay. As well as a sense of responsibility and like, actual leadership skills lol.

Just, Sheep / Goat religious allegories make me very sad and I think this silly little game would make me feel better about things.

I can't WAIT to see how Bamsara handles this update. We gettin' the multiverse canon? Hopefully it doesn't get too crazy, and we stick with just the two purple/blue and red characters for a little while.

I wonder what other satanic animals could be vessels? Wolf, definitely, donkey makes sense also, and pig is usually ascribed with gluttony but there's something that could be done with cleanliness or intelligence but percieved otherwise... I also think there's something that could be done with birds though, like I'm pretty sure I heard somewhere that the Mourning Dove is angel coded, much like the Lamb. Could just be the Dove also, though I was kinda hoping that the Symbol of World Peace wouldn't be a drect Christian symbol, which was a wishful hope.

Um... yeah! Just wanted to get my thoughts out! And there's a certain other goatlike character who's been occupying my thoughts recently, dw, I'll get to that soon. I'll explain then.

um. I don't know if this is a function so I'm not even gonna try lol but I hope I remember to come back to see Bamsara's initial reaction to the alternate universe implicated update! Oh yeah and a daycare centre, that's a relief for everyone involved whoof! Hope there's an NPC willing to take up the job, and who would of course enjoy being around kids.

[inkykeiji]

I think it's terrifying how sane Nikolai actually is, he plays the clown but he KNOWS exactly what he wants and how to play the character. Anyway! Do you think Nikolai and Fyodor would ever agree on sharing a reader? They have such an interesting dynamic with each other.

omg i agree 100%!! nikolai is genuinely petrifying and so so so interesting, i rly love the way he uses tones of voice and can switch between them with such ease aaah it’s v scary but v impressive; i feel like you never really know what you’re going to get with him and when he’s being serious vs when he’s saying shit just to say it—definitely super difficult to read; i wonder how well fyodor can truly read him,,,,, fyodor is so intelligent and so perceptive but nikolai is so unpredictable so??? i dunno hehe i’m just thinking out loud here c:

ooooh okay so i rambled a ton under the cut but!!

ah!!! a very interesting question!!! i want to say no—not completely, anyway. i always see fyodor as ultimately in charge when it comes to their dynamic, despite nikolai’s own dominance and intellect. i think they’re both insanely selfish, and i definitely think that they could possibly lend out a reader to one another, or play with a reader together, but i don’t see them being able to fully share a reader in a relationship split equally right down the middle. one of them would need to ultimately be in charge/in control. i can see fyodor allowing nikolai to fuck around with his reader (as long as he has asked for explicit permission first, of course) and i can see nikolai offering his reader to fyodor or instantly agreeing to fyodor getting to fuck around with his reader if fyodor asked for it, but i can’t see them entering into a relationship with a reader where they are both equally The Boss (for lack of a better term lmao).

i actually think nikolai, if he truly and genuinely fell in love with someone, would become a bit of a yandere. i think having something that now matters very much to him—something that is, essentially, a ball and chain latched around his ankle, something that keeps him from being truly free, something that could be wielded as a weapon to hurt him or control him—would make him extremely protective and possessive over them, extremely neurotic and emotional over anything that remotely has to do with them. now he must guard them with his life, because he won’t be able to handle losing them (in any capacity).

i also think he’d probably resent his darling a little because of all of this—the stress and the restrictions and the utter commitment the relationship is (ie now he HAS to watch over them, now he HAS to make sure they’re safe all the time or he suffers extreme anxiety and can’t focus or function, etc) and how he’s essentially become a slave to it.

he trust fyodor, mostly; he trusts fyodor as much as he is capable of trusting anyone, anyway. he knows fyodor will take care of nikki’s precious lil baby and that there’s no hope of said precious baby getting hurt or taken away from him when they’re in fyodor’s care. they’re safe (and ‘safe’ means many things to nikolai, including trapped) when they’re with fyodor—they’re as safe as they possibly could be when not under nikolai’s direct supervision. as such, he’s alright with lending them out to his boss when asked, and sometimes even gets giddy at the prospect of watching or being involved. (i alsoooo kiiiinda have a headcanon that nikolai likes being praised by fyodor and pleasing him so he’s never going to deny his bestest friend whatever he’s requesting).

sorry omg i feel like this answer totally went off the rails LMAO but yeah!!!! those are my thoughts!!! i just think fyodor’s too jealous to fully share as well—the idea of giving someone else an equal amount of power over his baby isn’t something he’s particularly fond of. i rly do think fyodor loves being in power,,, it’s that god complex idk~

[atherix]

YOU KNOW WHAT IN ORDER TO COPE WITH THE, FRANKLY, INSANE AMOUNT OF MEDIA CONSUMPTION I HAVE DONE TODAY, HERE I AM IN ALL MY GLORY – MAJOR MIDNIGHT SPOILERS AHEAD.

Having now read both chapters I am going to draw some strings because the PARALLELS BETWEEN GRIAN AT THE START OF CH 8, WHEN HE’S WAKING UP FROM HAVING FALLEN BELOW THE ALLEY, TO GRIAN DYING AND SEEING THE WATCHER-GOD ATTACHED TO HIS SOUL IM GOING TO GO INSANE??????????/ AM I GOING INSANE???????? I MIGHT ALREADY BE THERE. JOURNEY’S END BABY, IM REALLY PASSIONATE ABOUT LITERARY ANALYSIS NOW. But the fact that the Watcher is telling him it isn’t time for him to Awaken yet, and then to see him Awaken in the next chapter, and the fact that Grian has been back and back and back to that place but he’s never Awakened yet AUGH. I wonder if Scar Knows how close Grian came to potentially awakening when they first fell bc. I am going insane thinking about it. The fact that he Awakened through dying – was he actually almost dead and the Watcher-God put him back because it wasn’t his time and he doesn’t even realize because being put back returned some semblance of ‘not being dead’ to his personhood im.

And then the whole thing with Scott and Jimmy??? Okay listen. Listen. I have not a fucking CLUE how to tie them in yet unless Jimmy is a sign that the pantheon has had time to move on and then he became a watcher or something im. W H A T is going on with Scot though I have no fucking clue. No ideas. Surely they aren’t the god Grian just absorbed bc I take it they couldn’t live independently but w h a t.

AND THEN THE FUCKING PARALLELS BETWEEN HOW SCAR IS AND HOW MUMBO IS OH MY GOD. They’re both kneeling over him, they both think he’s fucking gone [Which. I think he was both times, tbh.] Clearly he wasn’t as Dead as he was later on because Scar isn’t nearly as torn up as Mumbo was and Scar strikes me as a man who would fucking Tear The Fuck Up. So. He was a Little Less Dead. 70% dead, is my guess. How Scar and Mumbo have both lost people, they both know the grief of losing someone, they both know the grief of seeing someone die in horrible ways, they they both thought they lost Grian in the same way I am chewing on my hair. THE PARALLELS. THE WAY REDSCAPE IS A REFLECTION OF EACH OTHER HOW AM I MEANT TO BE NORMAL ABOUT THEM IM.

Scar’s staff nooooooooooooooo I love his staff how could you do this to me. Augh.

Also the entire lore with the Watchers bringing the Avians underground to escape enslavement is FASCINATING especially given how Scar keeping pointing out that they went up from the tunnels not down, especially with how that mixes in with the fact that the Ancient City Icaria is Down im. Feeling normal. Feeling incredibly normal. The fact that its so bed even Grian knows not to go Down as shown with his conversation with Mumbo and Tubbo [which uh. You know. Frankly. Its probably a good thing they did hear down, tbh] and if our theory about Grian being Old are true then something happened likely right after the Watchers brought the Avians underground. UNLESS! UNLESS THAT ENTIRE STORY IS A LIE!

Stay with me chat bc I know Atherix isn’t gonna fucking answer this but – hear me out, what if the Avians are the Ancients from the Ancient City of Icaria and the Watchers drew them out in an attempt to stop the apocalypse by trapping the warden because Grian ALSO knows they shouldn’t bring the Sculk up which is seen in the next chapter. I am. Hmmm. Rotating.

Scar’s core continues to drive me nuts oh god this man really thought he was going to die the entire time and was okay with it as long as he got his family to safety even before they reached the ancient city I am feeling things I am going insane. HES COLD???? HES COLD AND HE DOESN’T HAVE HIS STAFF AND IM GOING INSANE

God and the fact that Grian is so sorry for getting them into this mess even though he deserves answers that he still didn’t really get and the fact that Scar and Mumbo reassure him throughout the entire fucking ordeal that there’s no way he could have known only for him to Know about the sculk, to Know they shouldn’t go down, and I wonder how much of what Grian didn’t know was simply repressed by his flight out of the Midnight alley.

I love the description of Mimic magic btw.

And then the whole Magic construct talk??? The wood giving way like glass??? Excuse me what is going on in the Alley my fucking brain is COMPLETELY blank on ideas holy shit.

AND THEN!!! THEN!!! THE SCULKY WATER??? THE WAY IT HURTS SCAR AND MAKES HIM REACT???????/ AND THE FACT THAT IT JUST CAUSES THEM TO BLINDLY FLY INTO THE ANCIENT CITY AND TRIGGER THE WARDEN I AM!!!!!!!!!!!!! AH!!!! EVERYTHING ABOUT THAT WAS ONE GIANT SCARIAN DISASTER!!!!

And then the WARDEN! The way this parallel’s Double Life makes me want to chew on my bones. The fact that Grian is the one that triggers the Warden. The fact that Scar cant do anything because its magic is counteracting with his own. The fact that the warden kills Grian to awaken his godhood. I am. ROTATING AT LIGHT SPEED, ATHERIX.

AND THEN THE NEXT CHAPTER. THE OPENING FIGHT WITH THE WARDEN. ‘They try to fight the warden’ YEAH. YEAH. TRY. MY GOD. MY GOD. You know its bad when you’re giving them multiple curse words a chapter tbh.

ALSO GRIAN MCCRAFT ‘They’re not supposed to be real’ THE WAY HIS KNOWLEDGE MIXES WITH MYTHOS I AM GIVING MORE AND MORE CREDENCE TO THE GRIAN IS OLD THEORY I AM. ROTATING. SPEED OF SOUND.

And the way he does the enchanted book is SO cool. Scar running off on his own to lure the warden ISNT but my god the way you made the enchantment work logically for him while all this is going on. The worldbuilding here is incredible.

WHAT IS GOING ON W THE TIME STUFF HERE. GRIAN THINKS ITS BEEN 5 YEARS. GRIAN KNOWS THE ENCHANTING BOOK IS THIRTY THOUSAND YEARS OLD. SCAR CLEARLY KNOWS SOMETHING FUNKY IS GOING ON TIME WISE. WHAT IS GOING ON

God I love Scar. He’s got his own brand of Chaos gremlin and by god he’s gonna use it [ignore the fact that he absolutely figured he was going to die anyway so he fucking decided to use it as his one shot to keep Grian safe only for Grian to die HORRIFICALLY in front of all of them my god.]

The way Grian can’t hear Scar as he uses his god powers for the first time but clearly has no fucking clue what hes doing and running on instinct and not properly awakened anyway my GOD could you imagine being Scar, standing there, Grian suddenly between you and a harbinger of the apocalypse, shooting it to protect you when you were sacrificing yourself to save him and then he fucking dies in front of you trying to protect you and you watch as he skull cracks open and dgdnklxhdgsf HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO BE NORMAL????????

‘What a sad way to die’ not to get existential but I hope I still have thought after I die because. Idk. The scariest thing about death to me is the ceasing of my entire being. AND GOD THE WAY GRIAN HAS TIME TO JUST. RUMINATE. ON HIS OWN DEATH. ABOUT HIS FAMILY. ABOUT HOW THEY’RE GOING TO DIE AND HE CAN DO NOTHING TO STOP IT. AUGH. And and and the WAY this parallels the scene from the last chapter where he was sort of dead but not really im. IM!!! In that ‘death’, grian was silent. Grian couldn’t feel. There was nothing. And here he can cry out, he can feel his soul and the way he can burn.

And then the Watcher and the fact that Grian cant really take it in and you have to wonder right if it feels anything about Grian killing it – WHICH FOR THE RECORD I don’t think that’s how grian got a watcher soul, I think he’s been a watcher secretly the entire time – or how it feels ABOUT grian being attached to it. If it sees him as a vessel or something more. As the other side of it’s own coin of existence. ‘every shadow and light needs its sun’ and the parallels here with the fae realm’s two suns and moons and scar and mumbo’s magic and his own existence in the midnight alley and then outside and THE LULLABY!!!! AHHHH. AND THE AGONY OF THE TRANSFORMATION BECAUSE ALL TRANSFORMATION IS A PAINFUL THING BUT SOMETIMES WE’RE READY FOR IT AND SOMETIMES WE ARENT AND GRIAN IS FINALLY READY FOR HIS AND asdkfslhfgf as you can see I am feeling normal on this evening.

AND THEN HE FINDS HIS BODY AND HIS FAMILY AND HE SEES MUMBO JUMBO, A VAMPIRE CRADLING HIS SECOND DEAD LOVER’S BLOODIED BODY IM SUPPOSED TO BE NORMAL ABOUT THIS??????? Mumbo sitting there begging and begging and begging for grian to wake up, knowing he never will, the fight in him only not gone because Scar and Tubbo are still in danger. Scar, who’s only will to keep living is that mumbo and tubbo are in danger, no longer carrying about how reckless he’s being, facing down this harbinger of death and destruction who just took his soulmate and ripped him from his arms.

THE FACT THAT THERES A SECOND FUCKING WARDEN BECAUSE THEY’VE MADE SO MUCH NOISE

Mumbo who has lost all self preservation instinct because he cant bury another lover and yet he has to and he cant even get Grian’s body out of the ancient city because theres a warden and they’re all going to die and suddenly Grian is LOOKING at him and gasping and breathing and alive and covered in blood and he kisses Mumbo just to confirm that yes, YES, what you’re seeing is real he’s really alive and then he makes Mumbo LET GO OF HIM because his transformation is still ongoing, still painful, and he cant bear to hurt Mumbo with Holy Power he knows is going to rip out of his body at any second and hes holding it back because itll hurt mumbo and then Mumbo leaves and Grian is just in AGONY ALONE AFTER COMING BACK TO LIFE I AM LIVID HOW COULD YOU DO THIS TO ME!!!!!

Dear readers, for the record, ATHERIX DROPPED THIS AND DIDN’T EVEN TELL ME IT WAS LIVE. SHE WAITED FOR MY FUCKING AO3 EMAIL TO CATCH UP LIKE 15/30 MINUTES LATER????????????? EXCUSE ME

Also the fact that they kissed while there was blood on grians lips and mumbo is a vampire is not lost on me and if this wasn’t such a serious scene I would be making wink wonk jokes

GOD THE WAY YOU DESCRIBE THE TRANSFORMATION IS BEAUTIFUL. HOW GRIANS BODY REFORMS ITSELF TO ENCAPSULATE THIS NEW SOUL THAT HAS CORRECTED ITSELF AND MADE HIM WHO HE IS NOW, BROUGHT HIM BACK  TO PROTECT HIS MATES I AM FEELING SO FUCKING NORMAL RIGHT NOW. DOES ANYONE ELSE FEEL NORMAL ITS SO DARK INSIDE THIS ROOM

He told them to go and of course they don’t, but they send tubbo away and just. DKFASDF THE FACT THAT THEY STAYS EVEN THOUGH THE WARDENS ARE THERE AND WAITING, BECAUSE THEY KNEW IF THEY DIDN’T GRIAN WOULD TRY TO KILL THE WARDENS FOR HURTING THEM AND LIKELY DIE AGAIN OR SOME SHIT IM SO.

Im so happy they stuck around to pull grian back but also imagine being mumbo and scar and your boyfriend just Ascended to Godhood and you’re having to talk him down from fighting TWO harbingers of the Apocalypse after he just woke up from BEING DEAD when all of them are a fucking W R E C K im. God they such a MESSY polycule god bless em, the braincell is triangulating.

Also imagine being mumbo and shadowwalking a god to safety the fucking EGO BOOST????????/ I WOULD NEVER SHUT UP ABOUT IT TO BE HONEST

“oh thank the gods” tubbo you have no idea.

And then all the stuff where Grian clearly both Knows and Does Not Know things simultaneously I am staring. I am vibrating in my seat.

They way you describe his wings as liquefying back to normal is SO cool I really love that description this is incredible.

W H A T IS GOING ON W MR GOODTIMES ‘I don’t think they found that place grian’’that’s just what time does’ SIR I AM SHAKING YOU. AND HIS DEAD TIRED BANTER W MUMBO.

THE CUDDLE PILE IS WELL DESERVED AND FRANKLY I AM BURYING MYSELF IN MY STUFFED ANIMALS TONIGHT HOW DO YOU DO THIS SO CONSISTENTLY OH MY GOD I AM GNAWS ON MY CAGE BARS. Lol this is 2.2k

WELCOME WELCOME GLORY BE I LOVE TO SEE IT <3

Long post and SPOILERS everyone <3 (There will also be some Depictions of Injury in here so)

I love parallels. I also love bookends and rhyming history <3 Even in the cruelest of ways hehe I LOVE WHEN YOU ANALYSE MY LITERATURE HEHEHE sometimes you get something very right and all I can do is :) It's wonderful hehe- Mmmm all about the context innit. The context? I mean well. You know. All the reasons Why™ <3 Hehe all things I cannot answer on a public platform <3 Hmhmhmmm seems a bit like a Cycle™ perhaps...... you know. :) Time and time again....

These are things that I cannot reveal at all! Because they'll be revealed next chapter :D But look, Jimmy and Scott are my beloveds and I am holding them very gently, especially Jimmy. But you know- Scar told Grian early on that Boatem attracts a lot of magic types... :)

YEAH I'LL GO FERAL OVER IT I love parallels. Twice now Grian has woken up to one of his lovers crying over him because they thought he was dead. [Which at least one of those times I can say with finality he absolutely was :) ] Scar was crying when he thought Grian was dead but lemme tell ya, there is a difference between finding your boyfriend bruised up from a fall and finding your boyfriend with his head cracked open against the stone. Both absolutely terrible mind you but Scar can at least convince himself that Grian was just unconscious, Mumbo (who I will take this time to remind people studied medicine in one of his lives and was a doctor during the Mycelia War) 1000% KNEW Grian was dead even while begging him to wake up hehehehehjfhjhjgfdhjgfdk YOU CANNOT BE NORMAL ABOUT THEM I LOVE THEM SO MUCH I AM. SO. NOT NORMAL I WILL NOT EVEN CLAIM TO BE NORMAL HHJFSDJH

I'm sure Scar losing his staff won't have absolutely terrible ramifications in the future. You know, with his staff being charged with a hell of a lot of his excess magic and all. :)

Hehehehe. I have been WAITING for someone to point how the direction of the tunnels. A bit suspicious, isn't it... that the tunnels Grian's ancestors used to come to the Alley... lead directly to Icaria. Also strange, isn't it... that these "secret tunnels" his ancestors escaped to the Alley through... are connected to giant-ass bridges supported by Ancient Pillars... doesn't feel very "secret" to me, hm, I mean if you were trying to escape your oppressors I don't think you'd mark your tunnels with giant bridges and make them super accessible huh.... huh... Mmmm well who knows :) It could all be a lie. Everything could all be a lie. Hmmmmm-

Yep, you're right, I'm not answering any of that :)

Oh yeah, the moment Scar realizes his Core is short-circuiting he thinks he's absolutely dead lmaoo all that mattered to him was his family is safe I am so. SOFT for him I am-

... Grian will get answers in the next chapter. Just not the answers he was looking for :) Hehehe God, Scar and Mumbo reassuring him that he deserves these answers and no one could have known about this- I am so SOFT for them I just. I love them so much. But Grian definitely knows more than he realizes. I just. He is going to need so many hugs, lemme tell ya.

I created them and Mimics fascinate me. I wish to study them in a jar, and then I remember- I created them. They are already in a jar for me.

:) Hehe. You know, there's a lot of things 'like glass' in this story. Interesting. Wonder what they all have in common huh.

The fact that there is Sculk in the water and it forces Scar's magic to react and waste a lot of his magic, BUT ALSO KNOWING that if he hadn't landed in the water he just would'a fuckin died- mmm double edged swords are so fun haha <3 Also I absolutely think Sculk should be able to taint water just saying. So I have made it happen here. AND YEAH BLINDLY RUNNING INTO THE CITY. So a scary thought for you- the Warden could have easily emerged into the tunnel they were walking through, Grian could even hear it moving around them (bc I like to think the Warden waits beneath the surface and moves through the earth drawn to the shriekers hehe). If there had been a shrieker in the tunnel with enough Sculk around it, they could have ended up in a narrow tunnel with a Warden. BUT INSTEAD THEY CLIMB UP A TUNNEL-SHAFT INTO A WIDE OPEN CAVERN WITHOUT EVEN CHECKING WHAT MIGHT BE IN THE CAVERN. Mind you they would have still gone in because the cavern was notably Warden-free when they first climbed on in BUT THAT'S BESIDE THE POINT. Let me tell you this polycule has one braincell between them and their son has taken possession of it. Like a kid sneaking a quarter outta their parent's wallet hjfdsjkfd

ONCE MORE I LOVE A GOOD PARALLEL AND/OR REFERENCE. How could I resist the tragedy, the drama. Also the guilt later on. Also yes Scar felt SO HELPLESS this chapter- he's spent his entire life relying on magic, and here he is without it- and everything that can go wrong? Does. Like, "this mythological harbinger of death that was in my childhood lullaby that I sang to my own son is real AND IS ABOUT TO KILL US" wrong. AND YEAH. YEAH. I mean, how else does one safely become a god? When you die you remove the soul from the body... so during the merge, there's no body to risk tearing apart too soon :) And now, Scar- now you know why people die when they become gods. It's basically a requirement HJFSJKFSK

TRY being the major keyword there haha <3 AND YEAH. I don't care who you are- I don't give a damn who you are or how much you avoid cursing- faced down with the literal harbinger of the apocalypse that is believed to have felled TWO OF YOUR ANCESTRAL SOCIETIES, who have ENDED THE WORLD and forced generations of survivors to rebuild ONLY TO END IT AGAIN- yeah you're saying "fuck."

:) :) :)

YESSS I have always wondered how, realistically, an enchanted book would work. Lowkey weird you use an anvil for it, you'd think it'd be something a little more fantasy like the table itself is, but that's fine. I'm glad to see people enjoy how I have the enchanted books work hehehe <3 AND THANKS FOR THE WORLDBUILDING COMPLIMENT AAAAA I LOVE WORLD BUILDING <3 Scar running off to face a Warden. Not his brightest move but, honestly, if it gives Grian time to find a way to protect Mumbo and Tubbo.... yeah <3

Thirty thousand years huh :) Scar was a little taken aback by that number :) Hehehe WE WILL FIND OUT NEXT CHAPTER. FINALLY. <3

Scar is a chaos gremlin. We love him for it. He causes problems on purpose. In this case though- uh, yeah. LMAO. Grian and Scar desperately trying to protect and save each other. On the bright side- Scar (and Mumbo and Tubbo) didn't actually see Grian die? :) Though I'm sure they heard it when his body slammed to the ground and his skull cracked but ya know-

Oh gods yeah Grian was running on instinct adrenaline and anger, he would not have come out of this very well if Mumbo and Scar hadn't stayed to wait for him. (I say this as if Grian didn't LITERALLY FUCKING DIE but. Ya know. he got better so) YOU CANNOT BE NORMAL ABOUT THIS. Add to the fact that not only was Scar basically sacrificing himself to give Grian a chance to get away, SCAR ALREADY THINKS HE'S DEAD ANYWAY. Like Scar feels his magic sputtering and wasting itself because he can't regulate what it responds to right now and it's not regenerating, this man thinks he's gonna die any second now. He thinks Grian died trying to save a man who's basically already dead HJFJKSJKS-

My biggest fear about death is everyone around me and the space I'll leave behind which I have projected onto Scar ofc. So <3 I understand hjfdjkkfjd YEAH. YEAHHH GOD just wallow in his guilt. HIS FEAR- his family in danger, dying because of him... just jfhjdkjf. AND YESSS the parallel, I love parallel. I wonder what it means huh, that the first time he couldn't feel while the second time all he could do was cry-

I can comment nothing on the Watcher-soul or what it's thinking or feeling or if it even really feels anything at all :) Look. I was very delighted when I wrote that "Every shadow and every light needs its sun" I am a poetic bitch and also day and night, sun and moon, light and shadow are heavy themes that I have peppered throughout the story so. So yes. Also the irony of "grian" meaning sun, so uh yeah- YEAAHHHHH I didn't want to get too gruesome with the transformation but lemme tell ya it was the worst pain Grian has EVER felt <3 He literally felt his entire being rearrange to make space for everything his awakened soul brings <3 His skin turned to molten glass, even if just for a moment- look I am. FASCINATED by glasswork and how malleable molten glass is when I wanted the Watcher to have a shifting form I thought "oh like molten glass" and I was sold immediately, but god how fucking painful must that be??? hjfdsjkfdsjk IF YOU'RE NOT READY FOR IT YOU CAN'T ENDURE IT but Grian had a reason to endure, he had a purpose, he was gonna ENDURE-

NOPE YOU ARE NOT SUPPOSED TO BE NORMAL ABOUT IT BECAUSE I ABSOLUTELY DID THAT ON PURPOSE. Mumbo has lost too many people this way hjkgfdjkk I am so. Him just begging because he can't see himself without Grian anymore, I am. He is. So. HJFSJKFJS <3<3<3 AND YEAH my gods the ONLY reason Scar didn't just give up right then is because Tubbo and Mumbo are there, they're ALIVE and Mumbo is with Grian and Scar has to try and fight to protect Mumbo, even if it costs his own life (he may have. Forgotten for a moment that, you know- Mumbo losing BOTH his mates would have. Absolutely destroyed any will he has to live, but. Ya know.) AND he needs to make sure Tubbo gets to safety, make sure Tubbo gets HOME and gets to LIVE and just HJFSKJFS god I can't even imagine being them. The absolute devastation and grief and rage they feel jkfdkkjfd-

THE FACT THAT MORE THAN ONE WARDEN CAN BE SUMMONED IS HORRIFYING IN GAME BUT DELIGHTFUL IN FIC. Honestly if the second one had come any sooner they'd have been even MORE fucked than they were.

GOD YEAH the absolute. The absolute ROLLERCOASTER this man has been through. He's in SHOCK afterwards, he doesn't even know how to comprehend what the fuck has happened today. This man needs therapy now. I mean he already did but especially now. (Also an aside but this moment just highlights how well he WON'T take Scar dying so) AND YES. The reassuring affectionate touches, just to let him know that he's alive and here- and the kiss absolutely had an ulterior purpose but when you awake from the dead in your lover's arms how do you NOT kiss them huh??? AND GOD YEAH, MUMBO who was just holding his lover's BODY in his arms, having to let him go and not even sure if he'll be okay once you leave- AND HEARING HIM START SCREAMING BUT KNOWING YOU CAN'T GO BACK BECAUSE YOU'VE REALIZED WHAT'S HAPPENING I-

I have a delightful habit of updating Midnight and then not telling Stitch, and then ~20 minutes later I get a message like "ATHERIX WHAT THE FUCK" it is absolutely hilarious sorry Stitch <3

Oh yes that was definitely purposeful. Funny that after the kiss Mumbo was able to use his shadows even with the Warden's shadows all around them huh :)

I LOVE ETHEREAL IMAGERY I'M JUST SAYING <3 I also love writing in opposites, I feel like it really captures the confusion of what is going on <3 HHEHEHEE

Of course they wouldn't just go <3 They send their child to safety but they gotta stay, they gotta make sure Grian gets out too!! They know he won't back down on his own, they remember what happened with Blondie. YEAH NEWLY AWAKENED WITH NO IDEA HOW TO USE HIS MAGIC, UP AGAINST CREATURES THAT HAVE ENDED THE WORLD MULTIPLE TIMES? THAT HAVE MILLENNIA UPON MILLENNIA OF EARTH AND SCULK BUILT UP UNDER THE GROUND WITH WHO-KNOWS-HOW-MANY WARDENS JUST WAITING TO BE SUMMONED TO THE SURFACE?? YEAH NO HE WOULDN'T STAND A CHANCE.

They are absolute disasters but they love each other and if they weren't all so Exhausted and Mentally and Emotionally Drained and In Serious Need of Cuddles and Sleep, they would not have hesitated to scold and lecture this newly-awakened god jkfdksjgjkf But also Scar's little "I'm tired. Can't we stop fighting?" Just. LIKE. MIDNIGHT!SCAR DOESN'T ASK FOR THINGS, NOT THINGS HE REALLY WANTS OR NEEDS. He doesn't offer up weakness or vulnerability, yet "I'm tired." He's tired. He doesn't want to fight anymore. He just wants to go home. I'm so hfdjkjkfgd

JKFHSKFSHJK LMAOOO HE PROBABLY DOESN'T EVEN THINK ABOUT IT. Not until later anyway when the whole "Grian's a god now" thing sinks in JKFKSLS

If it hadn't been such a serious moment Grian 100% would have said "You're welcome" LMAO

:) Hehehe

I am a SUCKER for liquid imagery. ESPECIALLY if it's viscous or thick liquid, like magma or molten glass. Water is cool too but like. Mmm glass.

HE WILL GIVE US THE ANSWERS IN THE NEXT CHAPTER HEHE. But let's just say Scar, with an outside perspective and knowledge about magic and history, has Put Things Together that Grian has been too close to think about. Oh... it also doesn't help that Grian learned Standard within the last five years :)

ABSOLUTELY THEY DESERVE THE CUDDLE PILE AND FRANKLY SO DO WE. I am so happy I can consistently get you threatening me <3 It's glorious I love it <3 Thank you Stitch~~ Hehehe <3

Your analysis is longer than some of my chapters LMAO

[darksidescorner]

I did NOT mean to hit you with a 600 word essay at 2am est. I am SO sorry. I wrote that while drifting in and out of sleep, and I managed to cook that up. (So have another essay lmao)

But also no I am not. They are in love and nothing bad happens to them ever (/j) (they just live before the storm)

I meant to say "food post" at the end btw sorry.

I think its really funny how they are the epitome of enemies to lovers and yet have the sweetest little relationship. How they got together is also really fluffy and sweet.

After Olivia got out of being hospitalized, she was kinda just living a quiet life. She was very very low profile, working from home and otherwise barely going out. She didn't want people to recognize her.

However she was getting bolder and bolder. With the backpack design improving, she can do more. So she went to the grocery store in person. You'll never guess who else was there. No, seriously, you never will.

Jk of course it's Miguel. They made eye contact and then kept going with their day, but inside they both were like

I've been holding onto those sketches since V. was CREATED

And because the gods have cursed them, they KEEP MEETING and random points. It's a pretty big grocery store, and so they're both getting perturbed.

Eventually, it's the deli line. Olivia wants some cheese, Miguel wants some salami. You'll never guess where they are.

Yep, right next to each other, where the line folds. It's such intensely uncomfortable silence. Like... on top of the fact that Olivia has fought to kill him, and Miguel to at the very least disarm her, it's just fucking awkward. It's a scene straight out of a dramatic comedy, how painfully tense it is. The place is crowded, and neither of them are losing their spot in this long line. So they just suck it up.

Neither of them know how the other feels about them. Olivia knows she doesn't hate Miguel, and Miguel doesn't really hate her but there's definitely a bit of fear. I mean, she did almost strangle him. Almost.

This line is insanely long, and eventually, V. asks "How are you?"

Miguel gives back a simple "Good. You?" and Olivia replies with a "Good," and then it's back to awkward silence. Olivia thinks about apologizing right then and there but doesn't want to come off too strong. She's already suffocating on how high the tensions are.

20 minutes feels like 5 hours as they move forward in the line. Eventually they get their meat and cheese, and they're both very curious about the other. "How is my former nemesis doing?" is basically their trains of thought. Neither of them are brave enough to ask.

So of course, as Olivia gets braver, she goes to a Café. As she's standing in line, you'll never guess who she sees sitting at a table. They make eye contact, and at this point it becomes a little funny to Olivia. I mean, do you know how densely populated Nueva York is? Not just NYC, but NY as a whole. Do you have any idea how hard it is to do that on accident? She quietly laughs a little. It's nervous, uncomfortable laughter, but it's laughter nonetheless.

V. sits at the only open table... right in front of Miguel. They keep accidentally catching each other's gaze. Eventually, Olivia gestures at the booth seat in front of her with a raised eyebrow, asking if he wants to sit there. Miguel looks at her like "Why the shock would you ask me that??" but then shakes his head and goes over. anyways.

They awkwardly start a conversation, with plenty of horrid silence in between. It feels like all of the relearning how to communicate is going out the window for V.. It's painfully stunted conversation, but it's not terrible. Miguel notices that V. never takes off her backpack purse, and that raises a few questions. He asks if she'll take it off, and she just smiles and shakes her head. Weird, I wonder why.

They make small talk. Neither of them feel vulnerable enough to delve into the past yet, so instead they just talk about their current lives. Olivia currently works at Stark-Fujikawa as someone who calculates the trajectory of space ships. Miguel says he still works at Alchemax, and doesn't drop the fact that he actually owns it now. Olivia is none the wiser, she does her best to keep Alchemax out of her life. It's a little ironic considering the company she works for currently, but oh well.

At the end of it, they definitely want to continue talking, but the café is closing for the day. So, they exchange numbers, and meet again another day. And slowly but surely, they get more comfortable. They delve into the past a bit when they're in a more private space. Olivia apologizes from the bottom of her heart, and makes it clear that she's not seeking forgiveness. By some miracle in Olivia's eyes, Miguel is oddly understanding. It weirds her out. He's the one person she thought would hate her most.

It was a very tentative friendship that solidified over time. To say they're enemies to lovers skips a key part. Enemies to friends to lovers.

Ok so for Christmas, V. and Miguel pack bags and stay at HQ. They buy gifts for EVERYONE and stay at their little apartment at HQ from the 22nd to Jan. 5th. They're there for everyone at that time.

Some Spiders aren't doing too hot around the holidays so they help them. Some Spiders are doing AWFUL this time of year, and special consideration is paid to them. Sure, friends and found family may be surrounding you, but financial hardship and other home-world issues weigh heavy on some.

Miguel and Olivia sometimes commit a bit of fraud. Just kidding, it's mostly Olivia. Miguel is too paranoid. If the Spider is employed, she and Lyla will team up to gift some funds into that Spider's account. It goes completely unnoticed by both the company they work for, and the IRS and banks. This is because they label it "Christmas bonus" but don't actually take from the company it's "from". It's more like they just printed a bunch of money but without the economic crisis part.

If the Spider is not employed, it's unfortunately much harder to give them money, so instead V. and Miguel help with getting them food and other resources (and even hooking them up with jobs in their universe! The power of 2099 technology!) It should be noted that these resources are available year round, with the exception of the "Christmas bonus" thing. However with the holidays things become especially rough, so V. and Miguel push it more.

V. and Miguel stay on campus so they can be there as soon as anything happens, and so that they don't need to worry about getting to HQ, as they're already there. And also... it gives them the ability to sleep in. And sleep in they do. Nueva York is cold as is during the winter, and they take full advantage of it. They have so many soft blankets. Their favorite part of it, however, is each other. Miguel swears up and down that he's not the personal heater of the relationship, and Olivia swears she isn't either.

It's because they both are. They are both warm ass people. The only thing "cool" between either of them are Olivia's tentacles, and even then those warm up. Speaking of, the arms are wrapped around Miguel whenever given the chance. You'd think they're trying to sleep in a twin-sized bed with how close they always are when asleep. It's just that cold up there, in a skyscraper. They don't turn on any heating components either. They don't need it.

Unfortunately, Olivia never wears Miguel's shirts. It's because it's impractical. If Olivia wanted to use her tentacles, the shirt would roll up because it doesn't have the holes. Miguel swears he's ok with her putting holes in his shirts, but Olivia always feels bad. He'd wear her stuff, but it doesn't fit and he doesn't want to stretch out the cable knit of her favorite sweater. So instead, he'll have one of her jackets or coats in his office, and she does the same. It smells like the other, and that is perfect.

Also, they don't buy each other gifts. There's no point when you literally own Alchemax. So instead they make food together. I have a good post coming along and I'm hoping to finish it in the next 2 weeks.

Ok goodnight it's 2am down here. Goodnight <3

OMG I JUST SAW THIS ASK IM SO SORRY (I was having too much fun on my vintage side blog hehe)

the domestic love between these two omg… they’re literally just like an old married couple except without the rings and contracts THEY’RE SO CUTE!!!!! Also them helping out those who are less fortunate during the holiday season is just so sweet of them they’re so amazing <33333

[visforvengeance]

Not afraid to face it

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x reader

Requested By: no one :)

Notes: hello. i am back again. i heard strange by celeste earlier today and it reminded me of rafe which sent me into a wormhole of fanfiction about him and then i got the wonderful idea to write about him. reader is pope's older sister. and there's no spoilers here. i got inspiration from shameless by camila cabello

Warnings: cursing, unprotected sex, reader has a few words for rafe at some point. italics is a flashback. i got lazy in the end i think. but that's it.

Your eyes locked with Rafe’s from across the beach. His features were illuminated by the string lights that were scattered around. You and Rafe were friends turned enemies. From elementary to middle school, you two were inseparable, despite your financial status. The societal standards didn’t apply to you.

Then came high school, growth spurts, and body development. During the summer, you and Rafe fell apart. Rafe began hanging out with the other kooks, leaving you in the dust. The night before the first day of ninth grade, you had gotten into a big fight about it.

As you entered the Cameron house, Ward sat in the living room with Wheezie and Rose. Sarah had gone with the Carrera girl to god knows where. The Cameron’s didn’t acknowledge you as seeing you were a common sight. You tan up to Rafe’s room, not bothering to knock.

“Rafe, dude, we need to talk.”

Rafe had grown insanely fast over the summer, so he towered over you. He looked annoyed at your presence which irked you to your core. Why was he being like this?

“What do we need to talk about?”

You moved to sit on his bed. Rafe had abandoned you and you didn’t know why. You weren’t ready to lose your best friend. You just wanted everything to be ok between you two. Shit got a lot harder now that you guys were in high school. You didn’t want to do it alone.

“Why are you ignoring me? Did I do something?”

Rafe was forced to think that it was time you went your separate ways. Like you were just too different now. It was basically frowned upon to be friends with a pogue if you were a kook. Why would you even want to? They have nothing and are just a bunch of criminals. Pogues had everything at the touch of a button. An actual connection didn’t matter when you had the fanciest wardrobe and the biggest house, did it?

The truth was that Rafe didn’t want to lose you either. But, peer pressure is hard to beat when you’re a 14-year-old boy. So, when you showed up in his bedroom asking if you did something wrong, it took everything in him not to drop his act and be with you.

“You did nothing wrong. I just don’t think we should be friends anymore.”

You knew he’d say that, but you hoped he wouldn’t. You saw him and his new friends with their new toys and heard the whispers about you. He did nothing to stop it. That was when you realized that your friendship was ending.

“Why do you think that, Rafe? What changed from two months ago?”

Although Ward and Rose never said anything, he knew that they didn’t like the fact that he hung out with you. Actually, it was mainly Rose. His dad never cared about social status. That wasn’t something that determined who his friends were, but then Rose came around and everything changed. The need to please Daddy Cameron was stronger than the bond Rafe had with you.

“A lot has changed. I have better friends now. I don’t need you anymore.”

Rafe couldn’t look at you as he said those words. Not when he didn’t mean them and not when you looked so hurt.

“Rafe, we’ve been friends since we were six. What can they give you that I can’t?”

8 years of friendship gone just like that? You’d think it would mean something, but maybe not. You’ve never been more devastated than now. How could he do this to you? So easily? Maybe you overestimated how much you meant to Rafe.

“You know what? Fuck you, Rafe Cameron.”

Your blood boiled as you looked up at him. You marched until you stood toe to toe with him.

“You’re a fucking coward. You and I both know that those assholes you call friends don’t give a shit about you. You were my best fucking friend. And, now you’re just my biggest regret.”

Rafe was shocked. You never directed your anger at him. But, he knew he deserved it. You were the greatest friend he’d ever had and you didn’t deserve this.

After that night, you couldn’t stand him. You hated his guts and you made sure he knew. Over time, Rafe’s feelings for you had become hostile. You and Rafe were at each other’s throats. Until the both of you realized that the line between attraction and hate was dangerously thin.

He watched as you danced to the music. Your hips swaying deliciously to the beat, it was driving him insane. He’d had girlfriends before, but he found himself wishing it were you when he fucked them.

You could feel his eyes burning holes into your skin as you danced. You purposely danced provocatively to the song, knowing the effect it had on him. You liked how he reacted. You liked that after 5 years of hostility, he wanted to fuck your brains out.

It was hot and you were basically wearing your bathing suit. His eyes raked over your skin, thinking about how soft it looked. And, then he caught a glimpse of your breasts and how they glistened with sweat in the moonlight. And, how they bounced with your every movement.

Kelce and Topper were talking and he wasn’t fucking listening. All Topper wanted to talk about was his little sister and that shitstain, John B. They followed his staring and noticed that he was looking at you.

“Dude, seriously? The Heyward girl is who gets your dick hard?”

Rafe finally looked at his friends, he was annoyed and frustrated.

“Well, can you blame him? She’s fucking hot. Look at her tits-“

“Shut the fuck up, Kelce.”

Rafe was a jealous, hotheaded asshole. He was willing to rip any guy who looked at you apart. During your senior year, word got around that Jason, one of the most popular guys at your school, got to fuck you during the homecoming dance. He bragged nonstop about how hot you were and what it was like with you.

Rafe got so angry that he broke the kid’s nose during football practice.

“Rafe, chill. It was a joke.”

Rafe rolled his eyes and walked towards you. He didn’t think that he could hold back anymore.

You were dancing with your friends when one of them stopped and told you that Rafe was coming your way. They left as you turned to face him.

“The fuck do you want, Rafe?”

He didn’t hesitate to press his lips feverishly against yours. You pushed him off of you, waiting to hear what the fuck his problem was. He thought about that night and how he told you that he didn’t need you anymore. He pulled you flush against him and whispered in your ear,

“I fucking need you more than I want to admit.”

You pulled him away from the crowd and behind a tree in the dark somewhere.

You rushed to place your lips on his as his hands roamed your body. Trailing kisses down his neck while he bitch and moaned about how long he’d been waiting for this moment.

“You wanna fuck me so bad, it makes you look stupid. Considering you’re the reason we stopped being friends.”

He shushed you as he pushed you against the tree. His hands found its way into your bikini bottom and against your clit. He rubbed harshly as the saltiness of your skin flooded his taste buds. Your scent was so intoxicating, he was starting to feel lightheaded. You moaned while he continued rubbing. He thought you sounded beautiful.

Your hands tugged at his hair, forcing him to look up at you through his half-lidded eyes. He looked fucking exquisite like this. You kissed him, biting his lip. You were approaching your orgasm while his fingers abused the sensitive bud between your legs.

He was hard as a rock just from hearing how divine you sounded. He wanted nothing more than to have you come undone in front of him, but he craved the feeling of you wrapped around him. He pulled his hand away and placed his fingers against his lips. He nearly exploded in pants from your taste.

He stopped to unbuckle his pants while you pushed your bottoms down your legs. His cock stood proud and angry against his abdomen. Your mouth watered at the girth of it. He was massive and you could feel your wetness dripping down your thigh at the sight.

He rubbed the tip against your sensitive clit, causing your hips to thrust upward.

“I’m gonna make you feel so fucking good, you’ll need me as much I need you.”

He slid into you and began pounding relentlessly.

“Fuck, Rafe. Please don’t stop.”

He’d dreamed of the times he’d get to hear you begging him not to stop fucking you. And, who was he to deny you your pleasure?

“You’re so fucking tight, baby. I don’t know if I’ll be able to last.”

He panted against your neck while you wrapped your leg around him.

“Harder, Rafe.”

He pounded into you, ferociously. The tree shook beneath you. It was driving him insane how you clenched around him.

“I made you this wet, baby? Who’s making you feel this good? Let those assholes know that I’m the one making you feel like this.”

And, you did. You screamed his name as you came all over his cock. In return, he painted your walls while he bit into your neck. He groaned as he pulled out of you and began fixing his clothes while you fixed yours.

You didn’t think you’d be friends with Rafe after this, but you’d let him slut you out any time he wanted.

[elysianslove]

shameful lust; suna rintarō

synopsis; he’s off limits in every way, but that only makes you want him more. based off of this, this, and this. the smut is inspired by my bunny anon’s birthday idea :) bunny, you know the one :)

pairings; brother’s bsf!suna rintarō x fem!reader

genre; porn with kind of plot lmfao

word count; 5.5k what the fuck??

trigger warning; age gap (not specified, & everyone’s 18+), masturbation, unprotected sex, creampie, squirting, humiliation, praise, mini panic attack, link for the lingerie (slight nsfw warning)

it started off innocent, as most things do. you were sixteen when you first felt the butterflies nestled deep in your stomach, the drop of your heart, the heat of your cheeks, only around him. you’d thought it was a natural reaction; after all, you’d known suna rintarō since, quite literally, forever, and you were a growing girl, hormones imbalanced and thoughts as confusing as ever. it was normal, completely ordinary to feel as nervous as you did whenever his hand so much brushed against yours, or whenever he’d barely glance your way to offer a small, teasing smile.

it meant nothing, of course. you were just a young girl, sixteen, desperate to lose yourself in some sort of fantasy. a silly crush on your brother’s best friend was nothing strange, and definitely inevitable.

it would go away.

you’re eighteen when the feelings don’t go away, and when they begin reshaping into more— impure thoughts. the more you see of him, the more hyperaware you grow of everything that he is. suddenly your eyes easily find the small strip of skin revealed when he stretches his arms up, and suddenly you can’t help but constantly think about the way he sits, legs spread so wide as if to... accommodate something. suddenly your thoughts always find their way back to the way he’d hugged you goodbye, arms squeezing you so tight to him, allowing you to feel every ridge and ripple of his muscles, and the way he had ruffled your hair and his hand, so large, so easily sinking into the strands— and you’re left wondering what else his fingers could do in your hair, to the rest of your body—

it’s bad. it’s really bad. every day you try and convince yourself it’s innocent, and every night you prove yourself wrong when you find yourself on your stomach, face buried in your pillow and teeth biting down on it, mouth dampening the cloth as your fingers rub harshly at your clit and sink into your dripping cunt— all with his name falling off your tongue as you heave and cry. every night you think about how much thicker his fingers are in comparison to yours, how much longer, how they’d feel inside of you, curling within you. you know he’s dexterous, insanely good with his hands. you’ve seen the way his fingers fly across a keyboard or tap urgently at a gaming console. you know it, and it in no way helps in calming your frustration.

it’s bad, of course, but you live with it. after all, he is in every way off limits. a lot older than you, and much more experienced, suna would have to lose his mind before he ever thinks of you the way you think of him. what would a girl like you have to offer a guy like him anyways? your shaky hands and clumsy mouth? your tight cunt that can barely fit two of your fingers? you’d only leave him unsatisfied, and leave yourself utterly humiliated.

worst of all, however, you can’t imagine how devastated, how betrayed, your brother would be if he’d caught you fooling around with his best friend.

so although you’re yearning to say fuck all and fuck him, you don’t, because it doesn’t make sense in the slightest for you to do so. you continue to make due with what shirtless image of him or that time he slept over and went commando, waking up at the same time you had and his — his dick was hard— you could see—

fuck.

you need to grow up.

as you sit with your back to your headboard, your knees bent up and swinging slightly, two simple knock erupt on your bedroom door. it’s late afternoon, the sun’s brightness dimming slightly, casting your room in an orange glow. in all honesty, it’s soothing.

looking up from your phone momentarily, you call out for the person knocking to come in, your eyes returning to your screen once more.

“hey.”

at the sound of the awfully familiar voice, your head snaps back up and you lock your phone, looking up with newfound excitement at the man standing at your doorway. “hi,” you return with a smile, sitting up and crossing your legs.

suna smiles back, walking into your room with one hand tucked behind his back. “your brother said i’d find you here,” he explains, walking towards you.

you quirk a brow, curiously and amusingly smiling as you ask, “whatcha got there?”

he’s quiet for a moment as he walks over to your side of the bed, maneuvering in a way that doesn’t reveal what he has hidden behind him. you twist around on your bed, leaning on your knees to face him properly, and it’s just when you lift up slightly to settle comfortably that he leans down, bends over to get close enough to whisper, “happy birthday, pretty girl.” he gives you not another moment to process how close his face is — how close his lips are to yours — before the hand behind his back comes around between you.

tucked in his hand is a medium sized bag, not related to any sort of brand, so you assume it’s a simple bag he’d gotten from a convenience store. that would really only mean one thing— that he’s gotten you more than just one gift. you can’t see what’s in it since there are colorful papers stacked within it, obstructing your view, but you’re still flustered at the mere thought he’d even considered to buy you a gift. it’s not unusual; suna, every year on your birthday, has gotten you a gift, yet it’s usually more so a gag gift than anything. some inside joke of yours, maybe he’d pay for your dinner, things like that. never a full on, thought out gift.

“you didn’t have to,” you say, settling back down on your knees and hesitantly taking the bag from him.

he waves you off, disagreeing. “course i did; you’re nineteen now.”

you roll your eyes. “wouldn’t eighteen be more special?”

“fine,” he decides, playfully taking the bag from your grasp and pulling it to him. “guess i’ll just give this to someone else then— maybe your mom—“

“suna!”

at your reaction, he laughs boisterously, and against all odds, you find yourself smiling too. quickly, you reach out for the bag again, pulling it back to you.

“open it when you’re alone,” he disclaims, almost as if in warning.

warily, you eye the bag.

“sure.”

you try to be quieter when unboxing suna’s gift, but the paper’s scrunching is just so damn loud. after cursing it out, you finally rid the bag of its first layer of paper, and are met with a scented candle and some lotion. basic, expected. there‘s a card there too, and when you open it, there’s a note in his messy handwriting, reading out a simple happy birthday— and a good couple of yens too. money, a candle, lotion.

so basic.

there’s still more paper beneath, but you don’t expect it to be for anything except decoration, not for—

what the fuck.

what the fuck.

What The Fuck?

your two hands dip into the bag, reaching out for the final gift, grabbing it by its straps and—

holy shit, he got you lingerie.

it’s so— sheer? you don’t think an inch of you will be properly covered, even with the lingerie on. it’s properly transparent, with only the intricate lace designs to modestly cover you. when you dig into the bag, you find the panties to match the bra and— well, it’s pretty, you can’t lie. there are dark, almost flowerlike designs all over, and it’s a deep black, nearly blue or green. there’s also a garter belt, but there aren’t any stockings in the bag to attach to the clips. maybe he’d expected you to take care of that?— ah no, you stand corrected. there are stockings.

fuck, he thought of everything didn’t he?

but more importantly, what the fuck does all of this mean?

burying the lingerie deep inside the bag again, and making sure to cover it up with the paper, thoroughly, you place the other gifts and the card back in and on top, before putting it aside on your bed.

and now, to gather your fucking thoughts.

you had to text him to thank him for the gift, obviously. but there was no way he’d accidentally misplaced the lingerie there. it was deliberately placed, with the way it was folded and tucked neatly, underneath an extra layer of paper above and beneath it? yeah, definitely on purpose. but— why? had he taken notice of your feelings towards him? was this his way of making fun or... reassuring you they were mutual?

god, what the hell are you thinking.

snatching your phone from your bedside table, you check the time.

2:01 a.m.

okay, everyone‘s bound to be asleep by now. hopefully. you eye the bag, so cautiously one would assume there’s some sort of killing machine within it. you contemplate. shake your head. no. the gears twist. yes.

no.

yes. no. yes. no—

fuck it, it’s yours anyways, isn’t it?

you snatch it loudly, rushing off to lock your bedroom door, then rushing to close the blinds, tightly, surely, then rushing to turn the lights off and turning the small lamp by your bedside on instead. what else are you meant to do with lingerie other than, well, put it on? it’s rational, you think, obvious.

it’s fine.

stealing one last, deep breathe, you dump the contents of the bag again, and pick out the lingerie.

it fits.

it fits perfectly.

the bra is snug against your chest, pushing at your breasts but not digging in uncomfortably. your nipples peak through what‘s revealed of the mesh, and when they stand perky and hard, you blame it on the fact that you‘re half naked. the garter belt wraps tightly around your waist, not squeezing to the point of discomfort and pain, but not loose that it’s a nuisance, and the clips that hang from it are attached to a pair of stockings that stop mid thigh, squeezing at the flesh. finally, a pair of panties rest on your cups, cupping your ass perfectly. it too is sheer, and god— you can see so much of you.

is this— what he would‘ve wanted?

you can’t deny that you do look good. it shows your figure off appealingly, and coupled with some dark lipstick, your messy hair, and the slightest smudge to your day’s eyeliner— would— would he have wanted you like this? all dolled up for him?

is this what suna likes?

doubting the fact that you’ll ever have the courage to put this set on again, you grab at your phone, clearing the area before your mirror, then sitting down at the edge of your bed. might as well enjoy it while it lasts, shouldn’t you? posing in the mirror, you appreciate the way you look, the way the dim lighting complements the atmosphere, the way the piece hugs your body and shows you off. you look so good.

so good— for him.

reveling in this surge of confidence, you snap a good amount of pictures, posing differently in each of them, taking them at different angles. your camera roll overflows with them, and as you fall back on the bed, hair splayed out on the mattress, you smile proudly at the pictures.

do you look good enough for him to see?

the thought strikes you suddenly; it tickles at the pit of your stomach, makes your knees bend and your toes curl.

should you?

the messenger app is open at the text messages between you and him before you can think, a picture of you uploaded and ready to send.

should you?

you tuck your lower lip between your teeth, mulling it over anxiously.

no, you most definitely shouldn’t.

quickly, you swipe out of the messenger app, and onto safari. porn it is.

you should‘ve turned the ac on. fuck, it’s hot.

3:10 a.m. 45 minutes since you’d put the lingerie set on and had your mini photoshoot, ten minutes since you’d started masturbating. everything’s still in place except for the garter clips, which have snapped off of your stockings at some point in the past few minutes, but you pay it barely any mind as your legs spread wider, one hand dipped beneath your panties, the other pressing hard against your mouth, trying to keep yourself quiet.

it’s not that you generally had a problem keeping down your noises. your home was constantly filled with people, and you’re almost always sexually frustrated at the most inconvenient times. this time, however, it’s different. it’s different because you’re wearing a lingerie set that suna picked out, that suna bought for you, that suna gave you himself. would he have wanted to watch you touch yourself like this, dressed up so pretty? or— would he have wanted to fuck you while—

shit, you’re gonna cum.

you let out a broken moan, bleeding into a desperate son, muffled barely your hand. your fingers fuck into your cunt faster, squelching lowly as you arch your back, pressing your palm harshly against your clit.

“ugh, hngh,” you whine, squeal, wrist aching. “fuck, rin— please—“

you’re so loud, shit, shit, shit.

beside you, your phone dings! loudly, alerting you of a message received, but you can’t stop, not when you’re so close. it dings again, and again, but you continue to ignore, chasing your own high so desperately, faster, faster, faster. the coil tightens, your body tenses, mind hazing over and eyes rolling back— so close, so fucking close.

“well aren’t you a doll.”

your eyes snap open, and you only manage one second to process who the fuck and what the fuck before your hips are trembling and twisting, and your legs are shaking so awfully as your back arches deep. the moment you hear his voice, so deep and clear, looming just by the edge of your bed where you lay spread, fucking yourself, you cum— and you’re convinced you have a humiliation kink. you didn’t cum because you’d simply been close— you came because you heard him catch you.

in your post orgasmic daze, you pant deeply, chest heaving, rising and falling rapidly as you try to catch your breath. your fingers pull back from your panties, falling to the bed, sticky and wet, while your other hand falls from from your mouth, drool and spit dripping from the corner of your lips.

“aw, you ruined the set.”

you sigh. “rin.” the way you say his name isn’t in a way that’s calling out for him, but neither are you scolding him nor brushing him off for teasing you. you’re just simply trying to process the fact that he’s here.

“i like it when you call me that,” he admits, and in a second he’s falling over you, hands bracing and steadying him beside your head, keeping himself hovering at a small distance. “why do you always insist on calling me suna?” he wonders, head tilting curiously.

blinking slowly, you breathe in, and out, and ask, “what are you doing here?”

above you, he shrugs. “you were the one that sent me those—”

immediately, you’re pushing him off you, sitting up all too quickly as you reach out for your phone. you shakily unlock it, typing in your password and opening the messenger app. he’s right— shit. you could’ve sworn you’d deleted the photo, because you’d explicitly decided just how stupid sending it would’ve been. 

well, look at you now. 

“that wasn’t— oh my god, i’m so sorry, i didn’t mean to,” you stutter, turning your body towards him once more, but avoiding his gaze, your body, only barely having just cooled down, heating up once more. 

“oh?” he tests. “was it not meant for me?” 

“no, i—“ 

he’s smiling all too wide for him to not be getting off on your embarrassment. at the thought of that, your eyes unintentionally snap up to him, to his crotch, where beneath his sweats is a bulge, and god, it’s like all those nights ago where you’d seen his dick through his sweats and he’s big, he’s so big—

“just where do you think you’re looking?” he sneers, hand all of a sudden gripping your chin, tilting your head back up and forcing you to finally, for the first time, meet his eyes. they’re dark, almost sinister, as they narrowly glare at you, begging you for explanation. 

your mind’s no longer clouded over, all pleasure dissipating from your veins, pathetic humiliation replacing it. “i’m sorry,” you mewl, eyes tearing up at the look on his face. of course he was disgusted. just as your stupid crush on him was natural, so was his reaction. “i’m sorry, please don’t tell anyone,” you beg, lower lip wobbling. 

his grip on your chin tightens as he furrows his brows. “tell anyone?” he questions. “about what?” 

had he not— heard you? 

he says your name, firmly, deeply, in a way that has you stifling your sobs and biting your bottom lip to stop its quivering. patiently, you wait for him to speak, to say anything, until finally, he asks, “do you want me to fuck you?” and your heart stops. “yeah?” he continues, his other hand reaching for your wrist, your hand, the same one that’s still sticky with the evidence of you. slowly, as he brings his lips closer to yours, fingers slipping so that he’s squishing your cheeks tightly, he leads your hand to his crotch, to where his dick is painfully hard beneath his sweats. your initial touch is featherlight, and he doesn’t fully press your hand to his clothed cock, but still, just the smallest, tiniest feel of him has the lust in your veins thrumming alive. “you think you’d look pretty—” he pauses, lips hovering by yours, eyes searching for any sign of hesitance or resistance, “sitting on my cock?” 

“i’m sorry,” you apologize again, but he swallows it by finally, finally, pressing his lips to yours. his lips are so soft, softer than you’d imagined and fantasized a thousand times over, as they press against yours, managing to pull the softest moan of surprise and pleasure from you. you’d forgotten, in your moment of shame, just how much you’d craved suna rintarō. just how often you thought about him, those same fingers gripping your chin to be buried inside of you, those pretty lips sucking on your tits and clit. “want you so bad,” you hiccup, kissing him back. “so bad.” 

he hums, amused, pulling back. licking his lips with a grin, as if tasting you, his hands leave you entirely, reaching for the hem of his shirt as he lifts it up, freeing himself of the piece of clothing. “don’t you think i know, sweetheart?” he teases, daringly. at the sight of your eyes widening, he nods with a dramatized serious expression, tutting as he adds, “so dirty, thinkin’ ‘bout me like that.” 

you whine again, hands lifting up to obstruct your face from his view as you fall back on the bed, body bouncing slightly. “stop,” you plead, not for him to pull back but for him to stop reminding you of just how wrong it is to feel the way you do. still, you spread your sticky thighs for him when he presses his hands to your knees, and you shiver at the feel of his fingers tickling at your skin. “i’m sorry.” 

“that’s okay, pretty girl,” he reassures you, faux sweetness dripping like honey off his tongue. he leans in, carefully slow, hands following the curve of his body and yours. “i want you too.” he smiles mischievously, leaning close once more. “so bad,” he mimics you, lips hovering right above yours before he kisses you once more. you want to pinch his arm for outright mocking you, because really, how infuriating can he be? but it’s impossible to want to do anything but desire him in every possible way at the moment, especially when he presses himself harder against you, hips slotting between your legs and clothed cock brushing against your dripping panties. 

“rin,” you plead, hands clawing at his back, grasping at his shoulders. god, his skin is so warm. 

“yes?” he drawls, wet lips kissing the corner of your mouth, trailing easily to your jaw, and down to your neck. patiently, he waits for you to speak. 

with a trembling voice, you ask, “be quick. please.” 

a little stunned, suna pauses his ministrations at your neck, but it’s barely for a second. because moments later, he’s grinning sinisterly into the crook of your neck, sucking hotly as he replies, “sure thing.” 

you do want to take your time. you want him to stuff his face between your legs and sink his fingers so deep inside of you. you want him to force your mouth down on him, want to bury your face in your lap till you’re choking and gagging on his cock. you want him to take his time stretching you for his cock before he sinks inside of you, letting you feel every single inch and ridge of his dick until he bottoms out. you wish. you wish. 

but you’re desperate, and needy, and frustrated, and most of all, you’re not even sure if this is real. you’re scared to blink and have him disappear all of a sudden. you’re scared to wake up with soaked panties and no gift from suna, no suna above you, hard cock pressing against your cunt, only the same suna from all these past years, the same suna you pine over at a distance, wanting but never having. 

so you whimper so quietly, “be quick,” again, because he’s still too slow for your liking.

his fingers grasp the sides of your panties, pulling as quick as he can, sliding them down your thighs, watching as the cloth rolls at the urgency as it slides past your knees, your shins, your ankles, legs lifted high up. at the final loop around your right ankle, as suna flings it off, he kisses at your ankle, gripping it tightly and using it to spread your legs. 

as your legs spread, your pussy, soaking from both your past orgasm and this unbelievable build up, spreads too, glistening and dripping for him. his eyes easily fall to it, and, with that same glint in his eyes, he grins, and licks his lips again. “wish i could have a taste,” he admits to you, shuffling closer and bending your legs closer to your chest with one hand. the other hand frantically pushes at the hem of his sweatpants, tugging it low, beneath his balls. “god, i’d have you sit on my face for hours.” 

he’s going to kill you. 

he’s going to fucking kill you. 

at his words, your cunt pulsates and clenches tightly, hole glistening as you moan. you hope he doesn’t notice, but he does, somehow, and he laughs, too fucking loud. “you liked that, hm? bet you’d look so cute,” he spurs you on, and your entire body trembles. 

you wish to say something, to find the courage to belittle him, degrade him, remind him that if you’re in the wrong for wanting this then so is he, but it’s so hard to find your voice. it’s like he’s stupefied you completely, reduced you to this dumb, wordless, horny mess. god, fuck, it’s embarrassing. you can only watch with wide, tearful eyes and quivering lips and trembling legs as he spits on his hand and fists his cock, quickly, getting himself all nice and slick for you. his cock is— he’s so big, fuck. if you’d been shocked feeling him beneath his sweats, well, your entire body’s rigid with anticipation now. 

just as promised, suna’s quick. with one hand pressing and steadying firmly at your lower stomach, right by your hip, he guides his cock to your cunt with the other, wasting no time by pushing in. no way, no way, no fucking way. 

how is he fitting? 

“ease up,” he orders sharply, forcing more of himself inside of you.

in response, you bring both hands up to your mouth, clasping them tightly above your lips. you remaining quiet is as impossible as ever, with the way he’s stretching you so wide for him, so you press down harder with your hands and throw your head back as he sinks in deeper, and deeper. 

“aren’t a good girl?” he praises sweetly, his other hand mirroring the one on your hip. he watches as you lower your head again, lifting it up slightly to look between the two of you at where he’s fully bottomed out, buried deep inside of you. “feel good?” he wonders, even if he knows the answer. your head falls back again and you nod with your eyes squeezing shut. “feel so full, yeah?”  you’re glad he’s speaking for you, because you doubt you could find your voice at the moment, even if you tried. 

you nod again instead, urgently, just as he pulls out until only his tip remains inside of you, before pressing back in quickly, thrusting into you suddenly. the sight of him above you is better than anything your mind has ever made up, hands squeezing at your hips tightly, both ensuring you keep your legs spread for him and keeping himself up, steadying himself as he fucks into you. his arms bulge and the muscles in his abdomen tighten and tense with every thrust. his chest, so flushed red; his hair, a little sweaty, a little messy; his brows, furrowed deep in concentration; his lips, wet and red, so fucking red, his tongue jutting out slightly as he picks up the pace, as he thrusts faster, harder. 

and best of all: the noises he makes. he’s shameless, fucking into you with abandon, moaning and grunting and whining for you, like he’d been the one yearning, pining, and not you. and, you suppose, with the way he’s fucking into you right now, that there might’ve been some truth in his words, that he’s wanted you just as bad, that this wasn’t some pity fuck— poor little girl, his best friend’s sister, sending him lewd and inappropriate photos because she’s so desperate, she can’t help but lust after him, every single day. 

his hands squeeze even tighter and he grunts, gritting his teeth sharply. “fuck, m’already close,” he grunts, and somehow, that makes your heart swell, pride deepening. “cunt’s so fucking tight, shit.” you’re making him say those words, you’re going to make him cum so quick, it’s you. you. 

when his hands crawl up to your breasts, squeezing and kneading through the bra, your hands fall to his forearms, gripping so tightly and digging your nails into his skin. “please, please, please, cum inside,” you beg, trying to be as quiet as you can. “please rin, please.” 

the bed creaks with the effort and speed of his thrusts, your body bouncing as his cock fucks deep into your cunt. his head bows in, smooth hair swinging forward as he curses. “are you— hm..hngh—sure?” he asks, and you nod so rapidly you feel dizzy, arching your back as much as you can to get him deeper inside of you. he’s a mess of curses and pants as he fucks you even faster, one hand remaining at your breast, grasping tightly, the other lowering to your wet clit, rubbing furiously, messily, clumsily. 

no words are exchanged as he desperately circles your clit with the rough pads of his fingers, squeezing and kneading your breast as he angles his hips, trying to get you to cum before he does. and just as as before, just as he’d caught you earlier, your body starts to tense up, shaking in anticipation as your orgasm draws closer and closer.

but there’s something— different. 

“rin!” you yell out, still half-whispering in an attempt to keep quiet. your eyes well up as you call out for him again, your orgasm unbearably close. “rin, feels weird— oh m—”

he only just barely manages to shove his hand against your face before you’re screaming, throat aching and scratching as you thrash beneath him. around his cock, your cunt spams and clenches down tightly, cum splashing and spraying all over his lower stomach and past his cock to his balls. you’re still thrashing, still squealing and screaming, and he’s spilling inside of you, filling you up impossibly, his cum splashing and dripping as it mixes with yours. 

“holy shit,” he breathlessly marvels, hips still rocking and grinding against yours as he helps the both of you ride out your highs. “you ever—“ he steals in a breath, steadying himself slightly, “—cum this hard?”

you’re sobbing, hiccuping and mewling and whining and crying, your body impossibly sensitive. tears stream freely down your cheeks as you sink into the mattress, feeling quite literally like jelly. slowly, suna pulls his cock out, trying not to get distracted by the way your cunt squeezes out some of his cum, and instead focuses on you, his hands cupping your cheeks softly. 

“hey, hey, eyes on me,” he encourages, kneeling above you as his thumbs brush at your tears. 

“m’sorry, ri— suna,” you heave, hands grasping his as your eyes water again, fresh tears joining ones that are yet to dry. 

“what for, sweet thing?” he asks gently. when you start to lift yourself up, he leans back, sitting on your bed, giving you space to get comfortable. he watches with worried eyes as you furiously rub at your eyes with your palms and the back of your hands, as the tears never stop flowing. shit, did he fuck up somehow? he calls your name again, cautiously reaching out for you. when you don’t reject his touch, his heart settles, just a little. “tell me what’s wrong?” he offers again, and you sniffle. 

“are you not disgusted?” you ask, voice wobbly and cracking. 

his brows furrow, and he cocks his head. “because you... squirted?”

you slap at his arm with a roll of your eyes. “no, suna.” 

“when did i lose my first name privileges?” he asks, dramatically shocked. again, you roll your eyes. well, at least the tears have ceased. softening slightly, suna sighs. he’s shit at this. he’s worse than shit at this. talking in general? awful. talking about his or someone else’s feelings? he’s sure the devil would be better comfort. still, he can’t just— leave you. he’s sure that would make things a thousand times worse.

and honestly, neither does he want to leave you. 

“i can’t read your mind, pretty girl,” he reminds you, and momentarily, you look away. 

until you inhale sharply, and meet his eyes again. “it’s okay...” you begin, trailing off as you attempt to gather your words, before continuing, “that i feel this way for you?” 

at your words, at the much needed clarity, suna sighs in relief. so that was it. “more than okay,” he promises you. 

you nod in understanding, before prodding further, “not weird?” 

he thinks it over, before answering. if he’s honest with himself, the most he’d felt with you was sexual attraction. he liked the way your tits bounced when you ran to greet him or the press of your ass against his crotch when you passed by him to get somewhere. he liked— he liked thinking about your body, your lips, your hands. it’s why he sent you that lingerie set, the one that sits so pretty on your body right now. not that he’d been expecting you to send him anything, and he’d even anticipated that you might feel disgusted, might throw it in his face and slap him too. but he knew you better. suna was observant. he knew more than he let on, more than anyone could imagine. if he hadn’t realized your eyes on him in the past years, he must be blind.

still, he’s not sure if it was ever more, or if it is more. but, he supposes, it’s not an unimaginable feat. he thinks that maybe, there is a chance. he likes you, sure; you make his belly twist and his heart jump. but is he going to risk leading you on? 

he doesn’t know. 

he settles for, “good weird.” 

your face is the definition of a question mark. “what the hell is good weird?” 

“your face is good weird,” he retorts. it’s a bad comeback, terrible actually, but his face is flushing a dark red, and he needs to get away. you’re flustering him and it’s pissing him off. 

“that’s so mean!” 

yeah, the devil would’ve been better comfort. he wasn’t around though, so he made sure suna had been sleeping over that night instead. 

worked in your favor didn’t it? 

end note; my godddddfhksfhbskjbsb ,,, sorry if you found mistakes this took me all day and im not assed to proofread <//3 but i hope you liked regardless!! 

[babyboibucky]

The Match - Part 2

Pairing: CEO!Bucky Barnes x Reader

Summary: The aftermath of matching with your boss on Tinder.

Word Count: 3,344

Warnings: FILTHY SMUT, boss x employee affair, oral (f receiving), fingering, unprotected office sex 🤷🏻‍♀️

A/N: Hmmm yes, part 2 of The Match is finally out and I hope this did not disappoint 😂

The Match Masterlist || MAIN MASTERLIST

“Am I really doing this?”

You asked yourself in the mirror before making a face, “Of course I am.” You huffed out and adjusted your breasts inside your bra.

After your brief yet tension-filled encounter with James, you sprinted to the bathroom as soon as you reached your floor. And mind you, you did that while wearing a tight pencil skirt and a pair of heels. It really surprised you how your thirst made you do that with ease.

If there was an olympics dedicated for thirsty bitches trying to get some, you’d probably bring home the gold with how fast you moved.

You checked your watch for the time, you still had ten minutes left so you made sure to fix yourself up. Of course, the logical part of your brain was screaming for you to get a grip because really? You were going to let your boss fuck you? In his office? During work hours? You were at a damn risk here; you could get caught or even worse, lose your job. But was that going to stop you?

Hell fucking no.

Checking yourself out in the mirror one last time, you let out a deep breath and walked out. Maybe you were just being hyper aware given that you were headed to your boss’ office to get fucked, but you felt uncomfortable as you passed by your colleagues. You offered them polite smiles and tried to act normal. Thank god the elevator was just a few steps away.

“Oh thank goodness, there you are.” Your manager immediately blocked your way and handed you a couple of folders.

“I need you to make a report out of these. I have a presentation before lunch.” She explained.

You frowned, “I’m sorry but aren’t you supposed to do these, not me? Besides, Ja— Mister Barnes called requested me to see him in his office.”

Your manager used to be on the same level as you were but was promoted a couple of months ago. Why? You absolutely have no idea. She wasn’t the best at her job, in fact, you felt like the promotion should’ve been yours. Since she became your manager, she had been passing some of her tasks to you and snatching away the credit like a fucking bitch.

Your managed narrowed her eyes at you, “The James Barnes requested for you? Why?” She asked suspiciously, hands on her hips.

Of course she would be suspicious, you never worked with James before. But the fact that you were going there for a completely different reason made you sweat.

You breathed out through your nose, shaking your head and avoiding your manager’s gaze. “I...who knows? I mean, I have no idea why. He just told me to see him in his office and that’s about it. I really don’t know the reason, why would he even ask for me? Probably not a big deal, it’s very normal to ask a subordinate into your office, right? Do you know why he asked for me?” You were a blabbering mess at this point.

Your manager scoffed, “If I did, I wouldn’t ask you.” She responded before waving a hand. “Anyway, I’ll take care of him. Go and work on the reports now. Before lunch, remember.” She commanded, pointing a finger at you before walking away.

“Wait! But I...” you trailed, looking at the folders in your hand before checking your watch. Five minutes left. “...I was gonna get fucked...” you whispered in disappointment before stomping your way back to your cubicle.

The tantrums you made when you reached your desk didn’t go unnoticed. Who wouldn’t be grumpy anyway? Your manager just cockblocked you on your way to get some D, and it’s not even some regular D. James would probably be balls-deep in you now but instead, you were getting fucked by a report that wasn’t even supposed to be your responsibility.

You were typing away on your computer when you noticed the office chatter start to die down, the loud conversations transforming into hushed whispers. The HR probably paid your floor a visit, you thought and continued to work on the report.

“Any reason why you’re here and not in my office?”

Shit.

Your whole body froze at the sound of James’ voice. No wonder the entire floor grew silent, he was always in his office or out for a meeting. He wasn’t one to visit his subordinates but here he was, standing by your cubicle and looking down at you with dark eyes.

You stood up and noticed that your colleagues were watching, whispering to each other and most definitely wondering why James paid you a little visit.

“I’m sorry, I uhh there was a—“

“Mister Barnes!” Your manager greeted, a little too chirpy, when she saw James. “I was just about to head to your office to tell you that she’s working on an important report. She’ll come to your office when she’s done. I’ll make sure of it.” She said, offering James a huge smile that made you want to gag.

James kept his eyes on you, completely ignoring your manager. You licked your lips and tried your best not to break eye contact.

“And when was it okay to bypass your boss’ orders?” James asked your manager, his eyes still trained on yours.

You bit back a smirk when your manager ended up sputtering out an apology while you and James continued eye fucking each other. While being surrounded by your colleagues. This should worry you actually, the attention you were getting from everyone else seeing that the James Barnes went out of his way to see you. You couldn’t care less at the moment though, not when James was undressing you with his gaze.

“She’s not doing any report this morning. I need her in my office.” James said and tipping his head, asking you to follow him.

You were out of your cubicle in a second and quietly trailed behind James on his way to the elevator, ignoring the curious looks from every colleague you passed by. As soon as the both of you stepped inside the elevator, the torture began yet again.

Standing beside James, a little bit closer now than before, you could feel your skin prickle with goosebumps. The thought of him being all over you in a few minutes was driving you insane. Shit, you were really down to fuck him.

“You know, I don’t like waiting.” He said, turning to you.

“I’m sorry, James. I really—“

“Ah ah ah.” James tutted, backing you up against the corner of the lift— a blind spot, to keep the both you away from the CCTV inside. “That’s not how you called me earlier. Why stop now?” He asked, resting an elbow against the wall caging you with his body.

You let out a tiny whimper, your eyes landing on James’ lips as he bit them. “I’m sorry, sir.” You whispered.

He hummed, leaning forward until his nose touched your cheekbone. “Good girl.” He whispered roughly into your ear.

Your hands found their way onto James’ necktie, tugging him down when you were unable to hold back your desire. But then the elevator dinged and the both of you scrambled away from each other when the doors slid open, revealing a few employees coming from a different floor.

A chorus of greetings for James echoed as they slowly filed into the elevator, pushing you and your boss into the very back. You let out a soft gasp when you felt James’ hands on your waist as he moved behind you, feeling his erection press against your back.

“Can’t wait to have you to myself.” He whispered, sliding a hand down to you ass, giving it a firm squeeze that almost had you keening if not for the company.

-

Just a few hours earlier you were worrying about crossing paths with your boss whom you matched with on Tinder. Now, you were still worried but only about whether you and James would get caught while his face was in between your legs as you sat on his desk.

“Oh my god, right there...fuck...” you breathed out, head thrown back when James’ tongue circled your sensitive clit.

The moment you James’ office door slammed shut, he was immediately all over you. Pinning you to the wall as he hungrily kissed you, hands wandering all over your body, gripping whatever he could.

James was desperate to have a taste of you, his eyes showed it all. But surprisingly, he managed to make you even more desperate for him than he was for you. He pulled away from the bruising kiss, made you stand still as he walked over to his desk, plopping down on his seat.

His eyes scanned you hungrily as he removed his coat, followed by his tie and then unbuttoning the cuffs of his sleeves before rolling it up to his elbows.

“Take your panties off.” James had ordered.

Your breath hitched at the roughness of his voice. Following his orders, you reached beneath your pencil skirt and slipped off your underwear and letting it fall to your ankles before stepping out of them.

“C’mere.” James said and his voice was so tender it made you feel soft.

It’s amazing how James could go from sounding soft to almost feral, now that he was lapping up your cunt like a starved man while his subordinates went on about their work just outside.

“Let me see those tits. Been wanting to see them since I saw that bikini photo you had on your profile.” James growled, reaching up to pull down the cups of your bra, setting your breasts free.

Okay, maybe you sort of overdid your Tinder profile for someone who wasn’t really interested to hook-up. It was only one beach photo though, but now you weren’t regretting uploading it, not even a bit.

You keened when James pinched a nipple at the same time he started tongue-fucking your cunt. The entire scene was straight out of a porno, like one of those Naughty America skits minus the bad acting and terrible monologue between a CEO and his secretary.

“Keep it down, will ya? Gotta stay quiet, else we might get caught.” James warned, pulling back to watch your wetness drip down from your cunt to your asshole.

You blinked your eyes as you panted, watching James as he inserted two fingers into your sopping pussy. “Fuuuuck, James...” you whimpered.

“That’s not my name, baby.” James said, stilling his fingers and chuckling when you began wiggling your hips to get some friction.

“Sir, please...” you pleaded.

“You’ve always been an obedient one, aren’t you?” James cooed, bending down to lick a stripe against your folds while pumping his fingers in and out.

“Even doing a report that isn’t even yours, so fucking obedient.” He grunted.

Your moan was cut short when James’ phone began to ring, your eyes widening in panic when he answered it with nonchalance as if his fingers weren’t knuckle deep in your pussy.

“Hi, about time you called. You have any updates about the deal? He asked casually as he stood up from his seat.

James went on to discuss business with whoever it was on the other line. And this was all the while you sat on his desk with your skirt bunched up to your waist and legs wide open. You were about to close your legs, thinking that this rendezvous needed to be put on hold, but James was quick to grab your thigh to stop you from doing so.

You made a face at him, incredulous that he didn’t seem to have any plans of stopping. In fact, he started unbuckling his belt while keeping his eyes on you.

“Excuse me, can you hold for a sec?” James spoke into the phone before putting his mic on mute.

“Not a damn sound.” He told you and raised an eyebrow, waiting for a response.

Your mouth parted and you weren’t sure anymore whether you were nervous or aroused that your boss was about to fuck you while having a conversation over the phone. James pinched the inside of your thigh when you failed to respond.

“Yes, sir.” You quickly breathed out with a nod.

“Hi, sorry about that. Where were we?” James asked as he unzipped his pants.

Tinder never really piqued your interest that much. It was truly boredom that made you download it. There have been times when you felt like the app had its favorites; hearing your friends gush about this amazing guy they met through the app and all that shit. You almost gave up on the app that Friday night but thank goodness James appeared right before you called it quits.

If your friends were lucky for bagging an amazing guy on Tinder, it was safe to say that you hit the fucking jackpot because not only was James an amazing guy in general, but he had a very, very impressive cock as well.

You felt your pussy throb at the sight of his cock, springing free from the confines of his Calvin Kleins. It was thick and the vein on the underside of his shaft was so prominent you might as well give it a standing ovation.

James ran a tongue over his bottom lip, taking it in between his teeth when he stepped in between your legs to slide his cock along your folds. That gesture alone made your eyes roll to the back of your skull as you threw your head back from the pleasure.

James casually talked on the phone as he lined the tip of his cock to your entrance. Placing a finger on his lips to remind you to stay quiet, he watched your face as he slowly slid inside. You choked on your moan when you felt a slight sting from how his cock was stretching you out. Inch by inch, James pushed himself inside of you until he was fully sheathed.

He stretched you out so fucking good that you suddenly clenched around him, making James cough into the phone to mask the grunt that escaped his lips.

“Fuck.” He breathed out. “That sounds like a tight plan, Sam.” James said through gritted teeth, looking at you pointedly as if warning you to stay put.

James started off with slow, languid thrusts, gauging for your reaction to ensure that you wouldn’t make any noise. Unfortunately for you though, James was hitting all the right spots and it would only be a matter of time that you’d end up whimpering as he fucked you onto his desk.

He sped up his thrusts, pushing into you with more force making you slide up onto his desk every time he slammed back in. Your elbows were aching from how you were leaning your entire weight against them but fuck, you wanted to remain in that position to watch James’ cock disappear into your cunt.

James appeared to be struggling from holding back as well, seeing how his face was turning red and how the veins on his neck were starting to show up. His free hand gripped your thigh tightly, keeping your legs open as he began to speed up his pace.

One particular thrust made you see stars and unconsciously, you let out a moan that immediately turned into a gasp when James wrapped his free hand around your throat.

“That sounds great, Sam. When are you free to meet to further discuss the details?” James asked, his eyes glued onto yours as he pounded into you mercilessly.

His grip around your throat tightened each time you squeaked out the tiniest noise. You were so out of it now; James was fucking you so good that it slipped your mind that you were at work and that James was, well, your boss— the CEO of the company actually.

James could feel your pussy flutter around his cock and quickly put his phone on mute before grunting, “C’mon, baby. Cum for me, make a mess on my cock.”

His command spurred you on and your climax hit you with no warning at all. The coil in your abdomen simply snapped, reducing you into a trembling mess as you came around James’ cock the same time he let go of your throat, only to cover your mouth with his hand as you let out a long, muffled whimper.

“Great, I’ll have my secretary schedule the meeting then. It was great talking to you, Sam.” James literally let his phone slip from his hand as soon as the call ended.

He held your waist with both hands as he chased his own orgasm, fucking you harder until he slipped out and came on your mound.

“Fuck...” he panted as he jerked off his cock, milking it until your folds were covered in his release.

Holy fucking shit, your boss was truly down to fuck. And it was one hell of a fuck too.

-

You had just finished cleaning up yourself when you somewhat regained your consciousness. Now what? This was what you were worried about, the aftermath of fucking the CEO.

“You good?” James asked as he sat down on his chair.

You nodded and tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, “Yes, sir.”

“Bucky.” James corrected.

“I’m sorry?” Wait, what?

James shrugged, “If we’re going to start working closely, I prefer if you called me by my nickname.” He explained.

You frowned, “I don’t understand?”

What the hell was going on? James sorted through the stack of his papers on his desk (most of which were crumpled when you ended up grabbing them as he fucked you) and handed one over to you.

“You’re promoted as the head of your department.” He announced with a small smile.

Now you were offended. Did he promote you for letting him fuck you? Was this his plan all along? You couldn’t understand a single thing that was going on and James was attentive enough to figure out what you were thinking. You stared at the formal letter discussing your promotion and then back up at James.

“The promotion has nothing to do with us fucking.” He reassured. “Do you think I don’t pay attention to my employees? I know each and everyone in this company, their performance and how they do their jobs. And you...” James said, standing up and walking around his desk until he stood in front of you.

“I’ve been watching you for quite a while now. You have impressive skills. Your reports are exquisite, you know how to manage a team, you’re very smart. Quite the entire package.” He explained with a shrug.

“I’m not sure how my manager will take this given that—“

“That promotion was supposed to be yours but I asked the HR to give it to her instead. You deserve being more than just becoming a manager so now you’re a department head. You’re required to directly report to me moving forward.” James bit his lip as he tipped your chin.

You were at a loss for words. All this time, you thought that your hardwork and efforts haven’t been paying off.

“What do you say?” He asked, tilting his head. “And just so we’re clear, the promotion has been decided before I even stumbled upon your Tinder profile.” He explained.

You let out a chuckle, still unable to believe what had just happened. Your boss fucked you, gave you one of the best orgasms in your entire life and also gave you a promotion. Talk about good fucking luck, all thanks to Tinder.

“Uh I...yes...I’m accepting the promotion.” You said excitedly.

“Good.” James said, taking a step back from you giving you your space back.

“The announcement of the promotion will be e-mailed in a few. Congratulations and I’ll see you tonight.” James said with a smirk.

You narrowed your eyes at him, “Tonight?”

“Yeah, we’ll celebrate your promotion. You’re not just the head of your department, baby. You’re mine now.”

-

Everything Bucky Tag List:

@ddowii @jessou893 @stealapizzamyheart @bagelofthelord @mxnt @dontputyourfckingdrinkonmytable @jeeperky @ohladymacbeth @wildflowergubler @supraveng @twinerd14 @buckysmar  @bakugouswh0r3 @sweetcoldharmony @wintersfilm @charminivy @amelia-song-pond @iamvalentinaconstanza @mcubqrnes @i’m-squished @tcc-gizmachine @sipsteacasually @prettyintopeerpressure @weloveyasmin @est19xxshit @bloodhon3yx @dressed-in-prada @lizette50 @thatfangirl42 @sunflowerbunny2​ @unmagically​ @okiegirl24 @sugarpunch-princess @enlyume @vvipgotbb @slimeyderp @lyoongx @just-deka @nobody-will @jaziona92 @elisebuitron @dpaccione @suvikamahes98blr @buckybarneshairpullingkink @earthtonav @x-judyjude-x @nani-kenobi @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @belladonnabarnes​ @iloveangstposts @weenersoldierr​ @asemistablehundredyearoldman​ @reidbuck​ @lizzarooni​ @girlfriday007​ @5-seconds-of-mendes​ @whoth3hellisbucky​​ @bonkywobble​ @lost-in-the-stars03 @its-yasbxtch @twinerd14 @bluehour-553​

The Match Special Tags:

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[mypoisonedvine]

awestruck || lee bodecker x modern!reader

based on a request for how lee would react to today's women.

word count: 1.7k

warnings: smut (including oral, m and f receiving, and anal... lots of anal), degradation/praise, reader being a complete hoe for lee bodecker because I know y'all bitches and I know what you're up to, essentially pwp because I refuse to explain how/why lee is in the modern era

You were very, very different than the women Lee was used to.

With them it had been months of courting and flowers and seduction to get a few minutes of kissing, maybe even some over-the-clothes touching, but if he went too far he got slapped and dumped.

With you it was a swipe right and half an episode of something called "net flicks" and you were straddling him and grinding on him and kissing him like you had never wanted anything so much.

With them, sex was missionary only, every other week only, in bed only, and even when he made them feel good they didn't like to show too much enthusiasm because it was unladylike, apparently.

With you it was things he hadn't even realized were options-- like the very first time, when you were holding onto his knees for balance as you bounced your ass on him, moaning loudly, your pussy gripping him for dear life.

With women back then, sex was a thing women let men have as a begrudging favor, but you begged him for it, sobbed and shook and shivered beneath him, opened your legs for him constantly... he could barely keep up, honestly, but he was more than happy to try. When he couldn't come any more at least he could get you off with his fingers or devour your cunt, and you loved it.

Almost as much, you loved doing things women absolutely did not do in 1966. Only hookers gave blowjobs then, but you got on your knees and sucked him off gladly, getting wet just from his cock down your throat. You even swallowed his come; you even let him paint your face with it and it genuinely blew his mind.

He was totally in awe of you. You weren't just the woman of his dreams, you were beyond that: never in a million years could he have dreamed up a girl like you. Even further, he never would've thought he'd actually get to call you his girl.

"Yours, yours, all yours," you chanted as he pounded you into the mattress.

"Yeah you are," he agreed, "my fuckin whore, huh? My pretty fucktoy?"

"Yes," you sobbed, and he loved how much you loved being called rude things like that. "Whatever you want..."

"But it's not about what I want, is it?" he grinned. "It's about how you want to be used, all the filthy things you want me to do to you, ain't that right?"

You whined a little but nodded.

"So tell me what you want," he prompted.

"I want... I want you to take my ass," you admitted suddenly, biting your lip a bit as he stopped moving to stare down at you in shock.

"You— I— what?" he stammered.

"You... you don't have to, if you don't want—“

"Oh, I want," he cut you off to assure, "I wanna give you anything you ask for. I just... I didn't even know... How long have you been thinkin' about this?"

"Ever since the first time you fucked me," you admitted, making him choke on his gasp. "Remember, how I rode you and you kept staring at my ass? I kept hoping you'd hold me down and put your thumb in it while you fucked me..."

"Oh Christ," he groaned, "so that's how it is then? You're tryna kill me?"

You giggled, and he pulled out to roll you onto your back, kissing you suddenly.

"You're too fuckin good to be true," he sighed against your lips. You laughed and hugged him closer, wrapping your arms around his neck.

"I'm really nothing special," you denied with a smirk as he kissed his way to your neck, "a lot of girls will do that nowadays."

"It's not that you're willing to do it, honey, it's that you want it so bad," he explained in a whisper right against your ear. "I don't need half the stuff you do, I'd be happy with wholesome lovemaking three times a week. What's so amazing is that you want more... and for some goddamn reason you want it from me."

He kissed you again, a little slower but a lot harder, until he pulled back just enough to growl: "Turn over."

You happily flipped onto your stomach, arching your back to wiggle your butt out towards him.

"Quit actin' so desperate," he scolded with a hard spank that made you groan. "You're a hell of a woman but you sure as hell ain't no lady."

"You like it," you pointed out with a grin.

"Well, that's beside the point," he smirked back as he reached down to circle your tight rim with his finger. You reached up to your bedside drawer, from which a bottle of lube appeared in your hand that you passed back to him. "Now what's a sweet girl like you doing with this in her bedside drawer, huh?" he mocked, popping the cap to apply some to his fingers. "I see, you've got all sorts of guys coming over to fuck you in the ass, I'm just one of your hookups."

"No, just you," you sighed as he started to slide his lubed up finger over your hole. "I just want you, Lee, I swear."

"Hey, you're a modern woman, it would be too much to expect you to be a devil in the sheets and strictly monogamous..."

"Lee, baby, it's just you, haven't even thought about anybody else since I met you— fuck!" you gasped, interrupting yourself as he pushed one finger in.

"Just relax honey," he instructed, "if you can't take a finger I won't put my cock in you."

"No, please, need it," you whined. "I'll be good, please..."

He smiled and pushed the second finger in, slowly twisting within you and starting to stretch you out.

"More," you whispered, almost too quiet to hear but he heard you and quickly added a third finger which made you tense up at first before relaxing again.

He was entranced by watching your body open up for him, amazed at how well you were adjusting and how clearly your noises indicated enjoyment. He wouldn't have agreed to this if he didn't think you'd like it, and he had fully prepared himself for you to change your mind, but here you were... looking like you were having an even better time than he was.

"Please, I'm ready, I want it," you begged.

"No, baby, you need a little more," he assured, pushing his fingers deeper to be sure you'd be able to take him.

"Please please pleeeaaasse, I need your cock in me, I need you to fuck my ass—!"

He cut you off with another spank, pulling his fingers out of you to slather his cock with some lube and line it up with your hole. "You're sure?" he hissed.

You nodded eagerly and he barely moved his hips forward, just enough to start to slide his head into you, and you both let out a deep noise of pleasure together. But he didn't slow down until he met the end of you, one long smooth stroke into your waiting body until his hips met yours and he thought he might lose it right then and there.

"Oh my god," he sighed, "your ass is... so fuckin' tight..."

He started to move a little faster, pinning you down as you gasped and moaned so beautifully.

"Won't be by the time I'm done with it," he promised through his teeth, picking up his pace once again as you clutched at the sheets beneath you— yet your back arched to push your hips up towards him, so it was obvious you loved it. "That's whatcha want, sweetheart? For me to stretch out your ass?"

"Please," you whimpered.

"God, you're good, you're so good," he hissed, his hips slapping into your soft flesh loudly now, his rough hands pinning your shoulders down. “Too fuckin’ good…”

Your moans sounded different than usual— deeper, needier, desperate in a way he very much understood as he tried to hold himself back from fucking you too hard. It was difficult to pick where to look since every part of you looked so beautiful like this but he went ahead and settled his gaze on your face, the breathless moan you were perpetually caught in as your eyes fell shut and your mouth was open slack.

You chanted his name in a hoarse whisper as he fucked you harder, one more reminder to both of you that it was his body filling yours, his cock penetrating you in such a taboo way.

"I'm— I'm gonna come," you stammered, causing his brain to short circuit for a moment.

"You... you're gonna come, from this? Just this?" he realized.

You nodded, and he really had to hold back to not fill you instantly at the thought of you coming from anal alone. He understood now how he had suddenly appeared in this strange time, with no idea how or why; he must have died and gone to a very fucked up heaven.

“Go ahead and come then,” he instructed darkly. “Wanna see you come for me.”

He could all but see the shiver run up your spine, your upper teeth digging into your lip as you whimpered louder and louder— and it was a bit harder than normal to tell by the feel of you that you were coming, but the noises you made were incontrovertibly those of a woman thrown into pleasure. Your eyes rolled back, your moans exhausted and weak, and he couldn’t take it anymore: with a grunt of his own, he filled your insides with his spend, barely managing to hold his weight up so he wouldn’t crush you.

You hummed, wiggling a little under him as you caught your breath, and it was almost too much on his sensitive, softening cock.

“That was… you are…” he started over a few times, not even sure what to say.

“I’m gonna take a shower,” you announced as you sat up and gave him a quick kiss. “Join me later?”

“O-okay,” he mumbled, watching you dash to the bathroom as he fell back onto the bed and contemplated the wonderful insanity his life had become with you in it. Maybe the future really is bright after all...

[imaslutforremusandsirius]

For their pleasure part 2

I had no business reading wattpad and ao3 when i was like 11 yrs old

xinasvoice on ao3 is my guilty pleasure check her out!!!!!!

Part one

Warning: 18+

---

It had been days without any of your Doms touching you and James was seconds away from breaking the rules. You, of course, being the responsible one told him to calm down, trying to distract him whenever he raged about the punishment. You went as far as cuffing him to yourself at night to make sure that he wouldn‘t masturbate, because Remus would find out.

Sirius and Remus were rubbing it in your face, making out in front of you any chance they had, making you watch when they sucked each other off. James and you had been begging on your knees to at least touch them, but even that request was denied immediately.

„We need Sirius on our side“ James mused. „He‘s a switch, he knows how we feel. No chance in swaying Moony.“

That was true, Remus was the epitome of Dom, ruthless when it came to punishments. He would go out of his way to make the both of you suffer. Sadistic ass.

„I figured as much“ you said, absentmindedly playing with your necklace „but how?“

James smirked at you and bit his lip. „They never said that we couldn‘t touch each other. They only said not to cum.“

You perked up at that in momentary disbelief that James had found a loophole. Remus never made a mistake like that, he knew too damn well that James, being a marauder, would try to wiggle his way out of a punishment without breaking the rules. Unbelievable, you had found a way!

„So you‘re saying-“

„That we should catch Pads alone and make him wanna join us. He‘s our Dom too you know, he gets to bend the rules.“

You squealed at the idea and threw yourself at your fellow sub, both of you laughing with relief. You pressed kisses all over his face, smashing your lips on his.

„I fucking love you Potter.“

James hugged you back in excitement and gave you an arrogant grin. „You better, baby.“

---

Everything was set. Remus had a study date today, which meant that he‘d be gone the entire afternoon. James somehow managed to bribe Peter out of the dorm as well. Honestly you were too scared to ask how, so you just accepted it and Sirius should be back any second from his last class of the day.

You had chosen Sirius‘ favorite underwear set, simply black, but very revealing and lacey. James had dimmed the natural light in the room, putting up candles that made you both glow, shadows flickering gently against the walls.

Sirius might be dominant towards you both, but he really was easier to sway then Remus. He had told you often times that seeing you and James together is, in his words, unbelievably hot and makes me want to fuck you both so bad.

And by the looks of it he wasn‘t the only one who lost his composure around you. You let your eyes wander over James‘ naked body appreciatively, watching the way his muscles rippled under the smooth tan skin. He caught you staring and held his hand out, waving you over to him. Now it was his turn to admire your curves, hands twitching as if he was fighting himself to not ravish you on the floor, fuck the rules. Sometimes you wondered how he could be a sub.

„Come here“ James muttered lowly, pulling you to straddle his lap. „You look amazing. Your body is amazing.“

You kissed him back equally as deep, trying to pull away, but his lips kept pulling you back, much like a magnet.

„We should wait“ you moaned between kisses, changing your mind when his hands stroked down your body do grab your ass.

„I can‘t“ James groaned, burying his face in your neck to breathe you in. „I can‘t stay away from you any longer. I might go insane.“

He sucked at your skin as he talked breathlessly, your hips grinding against his cock on their own. Fuck, it‘s been so long. The way your were holding each other, not a single part of your skin untouched, made it pretty clear how desperate you were.

„My, my..“

Your turned around surprised that you hadn‘t heared Sirius come in. James looked up over your shoulder, hands digging into your skin to keep you seated.

„Sirius“ James grinned, „welcome.“

Sirius caught his bottom lip between his teeth, leaning against the door with one shoulder, head cocked to the side. The sight made him ache for his beautiful partners, he wanted to get lost in their touch. This has been hard on him as well, even if he had Remus to please him. But this was a four way relationship for a reason, which meant that he just needs the three of you equally. Sirius simply had too much love and desire in him to be chained to one partner in this lifetime.

He pushed himself off the wall and made his way over to James‘ bed. His pace was slow, a predatory glint in his grey eyes.

„You knew that I‘d be back by now...“ he stated, voice hoarse. His hands came up to stroke through your hair gently making you lean into his touch. God, it‘s been so long that even this felt like a rush of electricity.

Sirius’ dazed expression darkened as he observed the look of bliss on both of your faces. His hands tightened and he tugged hard, exposing your throats to him.

„What the fuck is this then?“ He asked sweetly, his eyes blazing with desire and rage. „Thought you could secretly get off?“

He tugged harshly when he saw James smirk and the boy cursed, eyes tearing slightly. „No. You said that we weren‘t allowed to cum, you never said that there should be no touching..“

There was a fleeting look of realization on his face, before he snarled angrily and let go of your hair to grasp at the side of James‘ face.

„God, James you have no idea just how much I want to make you bleed right now. Why can‘t you be good?��

His tone was full of rage, voice trembling a little and you dug your nails into James‘ shoulder to warn him from responding anything that would make your Dom lose his temper. But this was James, of fucking course he would.

„But Sirius“ he grinned, eyes focused on Sirius‘ mouth, „I am good.“

Sirius huffed, not able to deny the thruth.

„If any of you cum“ he growls out menacingly „I won‘t stop punishing until I break your skin. Understood?“ His hand yanked at James‘ hair again, the other squeezing around your neck.

„Yes, Sir.“ you gasped out when you noticed that James was too busy moaning at the pain. Fucking masochist.

Sirius gave you one last glare before he let go, seating himself on the opposite bed to watch. He waved his hands impatiently with an unbothered expression on his face, but secretly bursting with excitement to watch his subs play.

„What are you waiting for? Play.“ He lit himself a cigarette, leaning back against the headboard with his legs splayed wide open.

You didn’t have time to process the words before James flipped you over on your back, lips instantly on yours. He was uncoordinated, so desperate that his hands couldn’t stop shaking with lust as they trembled on your body. He was kissing you so deeply, as if he tried to consume your soul through your mouth, whining when his cock bumped into your inner thighs with every grind of your hips.

„Fuck baby, careful“ James whimpered, sinking his teeth into your jaw. „Or I‘ll cum before we start.“

God, James was so needy it made you melt. His callous hands were all over your legs, stopping to play with the hem of your underwear. He pulled back a centimeter only, grinning at you.

„Ready to start?“ You smiled back and nodded, watching him get back up on his knees and help you down the bed.

Your hands played with the edges of your bra, pulling at your garter belts. You made your way over to your stunned Dom, swaying your hips with every step to flaunt your body.

Sirius had long forgotten about the burning cigarette in his hand, head tilting up as you knelt before him on the bed between his open legs. You said nothing as you took his wrist and guided the cigarette to your lips, staring down at him. His lips parted as he watched your lips wrap around the drug, hollowing your cheeks obscenely. Fuck, Sirius felt like dying.

He cleared his throat and licked his lips. „You should share baby“ he rasped, Adams apple bobbing as he gulped.

You smirked and leaned in, pressing your lips to his and he opened his mouth, breathing in the smoke. The contact made him jerk out of his haze and he threw the cigarette to the side, kissing you hard. His lips were all over your face, returning to your mouth every few seconds.

„Fuck, I‘ve missed your taste“ he moaned, licking your lips. He let you pull away reluctantly, head banging against the headboard as he tried to control himself.

„James“ you called, eyes still on Sirius‘, „Join me..“

You heard his heavy footsteps approach the bed and Sirius’ eyes flickered behind you, biting his lip when he saw that James was completely naked. James wrapped his strong arms around your waist, pulling your back flush against his warm chest. Your head fell back in satisfaction, goosebumps forming on your skin when James’ hands trailed down your breasts to your lower stomach.

„So soft“ James whispered, kissing the side of your neck, „Smell so good..“

Sirius‘ breathing got harder when you moaned and he glared at James, daring him to tease him further.

„Take off her lingerie“ Sirius commanded, not able to suppress the slight needy tone in his voice.

„Yes, Sir“ James chuckled, sitting back on his ass to pull you between his legs. You bend your legs and let James pull your panties off, the underwear sticking on your wet cunt. Sirius breathing got even harder, hands flexing and his eyes focused on your pussy when you spread it with your fingers.

„James“ you whined, lips twitching into a smile when Sirius‘ eyes narrowed, „Please, touch me. Want it so bad..“

James hands replaced your hands, middle finger rubbing your clit and you jerked, leaning further into his chest.

„Yes, so good“ you moan, staring into Sirius‘ dilated pupils.

James pushed a finger inside, taking off your bra to play with your nipples. He rested his chin on your head, the both of you holding eye contact with your Dom. Sirius was so overwhelmed with what he saw that his eyes flickered between yours every second, not knowing who he wanted to settle on.

„May I fuck her, Sirius?“ James asked sweetly.

Sirius glared at him sharply, raising a brow. His voice was strict when he responded, not a trace of weakness in it although his hand trembled when he palmed his cock through his pants.

„What makes you think you deserve that?“

Well fuck. James‘ face fell, he didn‘t expect that answer. Sirius wasn‘t as easy as he thought.

„Let me deserve it then“ James begged, „Please, I‘d do anything!“

Sirius stretched his hand out, beckoning him close.

„Let me look at you, boy.“

You protested a little when James pulled his fingers out, nipping at your ear in warning. He muttered a silent, „Behave“ in your ear and crawled his way over to his Dom.

„James, baby“ Sirius stroked James‘ cheek, „I want you to suck my cock.“

James closed his eyes and let out a loud whine, hands pulling down Sirius‘ pants eagerly. Sirius’ caught his hands, thumb brushing over James’ bottom lip, smirking softly when he saw the look of submission on his usually bratty face.

„Do not breathe a single word of this to Daddy, you hear me?“

The demand was meant for you, you being the one who addressed Remus as Daddy, but James didn‘t mind referring to him in that way.

James nodded, tongue peaking out to suck the finger in his mouth, teeth nipping a little.

„Never, Sir.“

You let out a breathy, „Yes, Sir“ and crawled tonwards them as well, leaning your head against Sirius‘ inner thigh to watch closely. God, really wanted to be James right now.

Sirius crossed his arms behind his head, relaxing when James‘ wet lips wrapped around him. James began slow, eyes closing in enjoyment the moment his taste buds registered the taste of Sirius‘ precum, his muscle memory instantly activated. His pink lips stayed wrapped around the head, his tongue licking the underside of Sirius‘ hard cock.

You whined softly, leaving kisses along his inner thighs and blinked up at him. Sirius paid you no mind, turning your head towards James again to make you watch. James, that fucker, still somehow managed to look smug with Sirius‘ cock stuffing his mouth. You could feel the amusement drip off him in waves.

Not able to contain yourself you let your hands trail over your Doms leg towards his cock, feeling along the vein. Sirius hissed at the gentle caress, hands tangling in your hair to pull your face closer to his. You groaned at the pain, gripping him tighter and his eyes fell shut for a moment, before he opened them again.

„You wanna touch my cock so bad? Hm? Is that why you‘re acting like a greedy whore?“

You wrapped your hand around his balls, squeezing them in your soft palms. Leaning in you brushed your lips against his, gazing deeply into his nearly black eyes. Sirius couldn’t concentrate like this, feeling James sucking his cock and having you so close made him dizzy with desire.

„Let us take care of you“ you purred softly, feeling your hand get wet with James‘ spit as he started to suck harder, clearly done with waiting. „Don‘t deny yourself what you want...“

Now that seemed to pull him out of his state and he pushed you down by your shoulders, forcing James‘ head down so far that his nose was smushed against the skin of his abdomen. He pushed your head down farther and you licked at his balls, sucking them messily. Sirius was writhing now, head thrown back and his mouth wide open, moans echoing in the soft glow of the room.

„Ah fuck yes there James-“

He trusted up into James mouth, voice breaking as he moaned the boys name, nearly sobbing with pleasure. He was finally giving in, spreading his legs to give you both space.

You tangled your hand in James‘ hair and pulled him off, glaring at him.

„I want him too.“

James glared back at you, not willing to share Sirius, but you beat him to it, wrapping your lips over the tip. Sirius whined, a high pitched, needy and absolutely filthy sound. James kissed the shaft, licking, spitting, jerking him off.

Your lips met as you sucked him, kissing with the tip of his cock between your open mouths and Sirius whimpered under you, seconds away from begging his subs, when James took him into his hot mouth and you went down on his balls. Sirius' head tilted back, face wide with an expression of sheer ecstasy. He came loudly, shouting out your names, spilling out onto your overlapping mouths.

„Fuck yes yes yes“ Sirius was wild with the force of his orgasm, not letting you back up until ever last drop of his cum was down your throats. Suddenly he pulled you up by your necks, heaving with effort.

„Show me.“

You opened your mouths and Sirius‘ face was so full of pleasure your thought that he was about to cum again. Groaning, he pressed your lips together and watched you kiss deeply, licking his cum from each others mouths.

„I will let you fuck“ he rasped „because you truly earned it. However, you will come when I say it. Yes?“

You and James immediately leaned forward to kiss him, making him chuckle at your eagerness. No wonder why he was the favorite Dom. Sirius sent a silent prayer to whoever was listening, begging the universe to never let Remus know of this. There is a reason for Sirius being a switch.

Sirius wasn‘t done with requesting and sat up against the headboard, pulling you to straddle his hips.

„You‘ll fuck her on my lap, James. I want to watch her come...“

James didn‘t really care and instead busied himself with fingering you, preparing your for his cock. You moaned loudly, wrapping your arms around Sirius‘ strong shoulders, doing your best not to cum on the spot. You couldn‘t stop yourself from shaking when James‘ thick fingers fucked your sweet spot with every push of his hand, your clit rubbing across Sirius‘ pubic bone.

„Already shaking, love?“ James mocked you, pushing in deeper to watch you crumble. „I haven‘t even started yet.“

Sirius raised his brow, daring him to go further. „If I recall correctly James, you were begging me mere minutes ago to suck my cock.“

James‘ eyes narrowed but he shut up, taking his anger out on you. He ripped his fingers out and instantly replaced them with his cock, making you scream at the stimulation. He didn‘t let you get used to him, not caring if you were hurting when he was feeling so fucking good.

Sirius kissed you, talking against your lips. „Don‘t scream, you wanted to be fucked. Here you go, baby.“

You were clawing all over Sirius‘ flesh, pushing back against James, your pleasure escaping you in sharp cries. James was feral, chasing his high, addicted to the feeling of your wet heat wrapped around his pulsing cock. His hands crushed your hips, his hand came up to push you down on Sirius‘ chest. Angling his hips he pounded in you and oh, he was hitting every spot inside of you with so much precision that you started to cry.

„Please“ you wailed „Please please let me cum!“

Sirius took your face in his hands, wiping away the tears as he stared at you, breathing hard as he watched James fuck you into pieces. He couldn‘t deny you this, not when you had that expression on your face and he caved, nodding curtly.

You came immediately, biting his wrist to keep in your screams and James‘ pace faltered. He keened and spilled himself inside of your cunt, pressing his face closer to Sirius. Sirius kissed him fiercely, wrapping his arms tightly around the both of you to keep you close to his strong chest.

„Well done, pups“ Sirius said softly, kissing your sweaty temples. „So good, so beautiful. Both of you, so special.“

James and you basked in his soft words, cuddling close, for once not arguing.

Sirius tapped your chins up, giving you a stern look, but his tone was somewhat humorous.

„Daddy can‘t know.“

---

There will be a part 3 (last part)

[honeypiehotchner]

My Deep Blue Love (Tom Hiddleston x Fem!Reader) -- Soulmate AU one shot

This was 100% born out of boredom and loneliness and those damn Soulmate AU POV Tiktoks that I have seen practically 24/7 for the past WEEK on my fyp

(I’m not sure if I’ll do a part 2, rn I have no plans for it)

quick note on the technicality of this one: you lose all ability to see colors when you turn 12 and you don’t regain the ability until you meet your soulmate. but! you have to meet them in person and it has to be a mutual eye contact. pictures/videos of them don’t work, and if you just saw the back of their head or something in person, that doesn’t work either. it’s all about the shared eye contact babeyyy

small disclaimer: Brie Larson is mentioned in here and she has a wife, but that is very much only in this fic, and as far as i know Brie doesn’t have a wife irl lol (i also don’t know if she’s spoken about her sexuality at all so what i’m saying is take it with a grain of salt ok)

Summary: Everyone around you is meeting their soulmate, but you still see in black and white. You’re ready to give up, and basically have, when you lock eyes with your soulmate.

Warnings: None! Just a bit of angst, lots of fluff toward the end 

You knock on your mom’s bedroom door at 4:58am. She’s already awake, sitting up in bed, ushering you over.

With tears in your eyes, you crawl onto her bed, snuggling close to her chest.

“I don’t want to lose my colors,” you whimper.

“I know, baby,” she whispers, kissing the top of your head. “It’s okay.”

You were born 12 years ago on this day at 5:08am, so in a few short minutes, when you officially turn 12 years old, all color will drain from your life.

Or the colors could stay, but that’s only if you’ve somehow already met your soulmate. And that’s rare, nearly impossible.

You squeeze your eyes shut at 5:07 and you don’t open them again until 5:10.

The colors are gone.

+++

twenty years later

You sigh heavily as you receive yet another wedding invite. You are invited to witness the official beginning of Olivia and Jeffrey’s lives together as husband and wife, soulmates for all of time.

The glitter sticks to your fingertips, tiny black dots against your skin. Your friend told you it’s gold. You barely remember what that looks like.

Lately it seems like everyone has been meeting their soulmate. Just yesterday, you were having coffee with a friend when she looked up at the girl sitting behind you, and boom.

“It’s like the world just exploded,” she had said. Colors were everywhere. She immediately left you to go talk to the girl.

You don’t blame her for that. If you had met your soulmate, you probably would’ve done the same thing. But you can’t say for sure because you don’t know.

You wouldn’t be so cynical of it all if your boyfriend of five years didn’t meet his soulmate while the two of you were out at dinner. You wish you could say that he was faking it. But it was clear from his face (and the girl’s) that he wasn’t kidding. It was real. He had met his soulmate, and it wasn’t you.

It’s never you.

You’ve had guys cut off dates before they even start, all because they didn’t see colors when they laid their eyes on you. They refuse to even be friends with you.

All anyone is doing anymore is searching for a soulmate and it’s exhausting when none of them are yours. When all of your friends see color now. When everyone assures you that it’ll happen soon. What does soon even mean?

You grab your ice cream from the freezer and fall onto the couch, flicking to whatever channel has late night shows that aren’t complete garbage.

As usual, you find yourself watching a talk show, and tonight Tom Hiddleston is one of the guests.

You’re sort of familiar with him from a few movies, but other than that, you hardly know anything about him.

“So, Tom, we’ve all been wondering what’s going on with you and Brie Larson?”

“Brie?” Tom asks, clearly shocked to hear this question. “We’re just good friends, that’s all.”

“Oh, she doesn’t make you see any colors?”

“Ah, no, actually, she does not,” Tom chuckles, but doesn’t sound sad at all, surprisingly. “Her wife does that for her, not me, I’m afraid.”

“Oh really?” The host brushes past the mention of Brie’s wife and keeps the focus on Tom, of course. “So is that true, you still don’t see color?”

Your ears perk up at the mention of someone else not seeing in color. It’s rare for anyone to talk about this on television. Most celebrities don’t talk about whether or not they’ve found their soulmate, but more often than not, those that have are quite loud about it.

“Yes, that’s true,” Tom answers. “I still see the world in a lovely black and white.”

You snort, harshly jabbing your spoon into your ice cream. Lovely. Yeah, right.

“Do you really think it’s nice? Do you not miss the colors?” The host asks.

“No, no, I do. I do,” Tom admits. “But I like to think I’ll see them when the time is right.”

You groan, going to Google to look up his age. And when you see he’s 40, you groan even louder. He’s older than you and he still hasn’t met his soulmate. That’s just depressing. How can he sound so optimistic?

“Alright, well, if there’s one thing you wish you could tell your soulmate, what would it be? Maybe they’re watching right now, you never know.”

Tom smiles wide. “Maybe, maybe, um… Oh, so many things,” Tom exhales deeply. “I guess I could be cliché and say I can’t wait to meet them and wait for me, but I think I want to say… I think I want to say I understand. It is frustrating, still seeing in black and white, but our paths will cross soon, I’m sure of it. Until then, my eyes are blue.”

Blue. Blue.

You roll your eyes. You don’t even remember what the color looks like.

+++

seven months later

“I am not going to a movie premiere. You’re insane!”

“Please!” Your friend, Catherine, cries. “You’ll love it, I swear.”

You glare at her over your coffee. “That just makes it sound like you have a trick up your sleeve.”

“I don’t,” she says. “I just want you to take advantage of this and come with us! When will you ever have the chance to go to a movie premiere again?”

She has a point. Dammit. “Touché. How did you get tickets, anyway? Please tell me you didn’t spend thousands for this.” You wouldn’t put it past her, even though you tell her not to every time before she does something like this.

“God, no, Joe surprised me with them earlier. He said he went to school with the lead.”

“Oh. Cool. Who?”

“Tom Hiddleston, I think. Have you heard of him? He’s British, but that’s about all I know. Joe just said they ran into each other the other day and reconnected.”

You stop halfway through a sip of coffee, careful to not choke on it. Slowly, you nod. “Yeah. I...I’ve seen him in a couple things.”

“Apparently, he hasn’t met his soulmate either…” Catherine trails away, raising her eyebrows at you.

You roll your eyes. “I heard,” you set your cup down. “He’s probably met them by now though since he blasted it on television like that.”

“Or he’s still searching and you’re still being too cynical.”

“You’re probably right,” you chuckle.

“Sooo, you’ll come?”

You sigh heavily. “As long as you help me pick something to wear.”

+++

“I’m regretting letting you talk me into this already,” you mutter when you nearly trip in your heels.

“Oh, hush,” Catherine swats your arm. “It’s an excuse to get dressed up and look hot for no reason. Take it.”

“Fine.”

Catherine’s soulmate, Joe, was whisked away almost as soon as the three of you stepped inside the venue by some director (you think), but he promised to return in a few minutes. Catherine told him not to worry. She’s used to him being dragged away for conversation. You can see from her face that she’s more proud of him than anything, and not at all annoyed.

Currently, you and Catherine are standing near the small bar, waiting for them to announce that it’s time to take your seats. You desperately want a drink, but part of you knows it would be a bad idea.

One glass of wine can’t hurt, though. Maybe it’ll take your mind off the pain in your feet.

You peel away from Catherine when you see Joe coming back, and you flag the bartender down quickly.

After ordering a glass of white wine, you wait patiently, wishing you had chosen a dress with sleeves. It’s fucking cold in here.

“Darling, you’re shivering, are you alright?”

Your head turns toward the smooth voice, face set and mind trying to decipher whether or not it was a sincere or creepy comment when the world quite literally explodes.

There, standing beside you, concern written all over his face, is Tom Hiddleston. Only now the concern has washed away into awe when your eyes lock with his.

“Oh my god,” he whispers, stumbling even though he’s standing in place.

“Blue,” you murmur. “Your eyes are blue.” Without even thinking or asking, your hand lifts to cup his cheek, and then you pull back, “Shit, sorry—”

But he grabs your wrist gently, placing your palm on his cheek. “It’s alright.” His thumb strokes the back of your hand. “I have been looking everywhere for you.”

“I thought you didn’t exist,” you whisper in reply. But here he is. His eyes are blue, his lips are pink, he has tiny brown freckles all over his rosy cheeks. You look back to his eyes, narrowing your own. “You liar. Your eyes have green in them, too.”

“Do they really?” Tom chuckles. “I never would’ve known.”

“That’s why you have me,” you tease, and you don’t know where any of this is coming from, yet it doesn’t feel like you’re pretending. It feels like you’re finally yourself.

His other hand tangles with yours as he nods. “That’s why I have you, indeed.”

At this time, the lights in the theatre begin lightly flashing, signaling that it’s time for everyone to begin making their way to their seats.

But neither you or Tom move one inch.

The only issue is people are beginning to stare.

You notice it first, so you slowly pull your hand from his cheek. This movement shocks him back to reality, too, and he blinks a few times, yet he doesn’t let go of your hand.

“I, um, I have to make a speech,” he says. “But then I can come back to you. Will you save me a seat?”

“Don’t you have to sit up front?”

He nods. “I do, but—”

“Then I’ll come with you.” You aren’t sure if it’s the fact that he hasn’t let go of your hand yet, or if it’s because you’ve been waiting so long that now you don’t want him to be further than an arms length away from you, but you mean what you say.

“Are you sure?” He asks, but you both need to make a decision quickly because you can see someone waving from the wings, most likely trying to get Tom’s attention.

“I’m sure.”

He doesn’t question it, in fact, he grins, and brings your hand up to his lips, kissing your knuckles. “Let’s go, then.”

[holsten-from-hasa]

echo watches dominion smp

viking pilot pov (hello tumblr jumpscare man)

anyway immediate thoughts: this guy is an embodiment of a wet rag, i want to wring him out and hang him up to dry. nice voice.

honestly more put together when confronted with thefacthes real now than i would ever be. 'hi yes ive been watching you for a while. hello' also set on fire so much. grilled viking

everyone on this server is slightly insane. i love them

viking has. the wildest sense of loyalty ive ever seen. like yes hes fix's friend. yes hes just vibing while the others spawn a warden. yes he told taneesha peoples favourite things. yes hes immediately telling said people where they are. hes just So.

little ghost boy. what crimes will he commit.

the iou collection?? hermitcraft enjoyer in me still remembers horse head farms and the head canons of those being souls. viking the soul collector i guess

he is in your walls. he is in my walls. he is skittering around between the bricks listening in on you.

how far is he willing to go for a legundo iou. because so far seems like fix is one of his actual friends.

also just realised. he is wearing his own severed head to let people see him. that is both really wholesome and. freaky.

taking the blame. for tax fraud. does our favourite ghost boy not know that you do not fuck with the irs.

'you comitted several crimes' his reaction to crouch and look at them. god.

i am losing my mind.

ALL OF THIS FOR AN IOU

this mans priorities.

GRADY UNDER THE SLAB. HIDING. he looks so sad.

grady is so.

he got the worst deal. viking youre so dumb.

love how his outro just. has his channel icon cover his face. someone just slapped his own sticker on there.

episode 4: viking loses his goddamn mind

legundo shivering the whole time makes it so much better.

'I DO NOT FEEL SAFE IN THE MURDER GRAVEYARD' whats wrong, legundo? do you fear death? do you fear confrontation with your own mortality? run. perhaps you will find safety under the burning sun. but perhaps you will not be alone.

i have no idea what im saying any more.

oh no.viking once again tkaing the fall for a crime. taneesha is a bad influence.

'wow whatcrimes did viking commit' 'oh, yknow, all the ones we tried blaming taneesha for' 'huh, wild'

GRADY IS THERE

this web of lies. my god.

grady just like 'youre full of shit yknow'

oh hey is now a good time to mention i tend to associate phantoms with cats.

i am so glad he told nuke. still viking has the wildest allegiances ive ever seen.

people i need to watch after viking: nuke and grady. they have such vibes, actually

changing taneeshas base from snowy wonderland toliteral hell.... beautiful.

'not a cult' idk guys might be a cult. but also void is such a good aesthetic

feeding the void. crunchity munchity

vikings one cncern is that theres no contact card. yeah ok nice priorities ghost boy. im having the time of my life here.

'take it to your grave type thing' 'oh wait i have a thing for that' because yes phantom man has a grave for his servermate. in the murder graveyard. normal person thing the have. definitely.

he literally just murdered someone. nice. i support him.

now they are bullying the man who is constantly trembling.

no object permanence.... they are best friends

casually blowing a hole in the wall of the irs' tax bunker. after being told repeatedly to not do it. just hot girl things ig

JUST PUT A BLANKET OVER IT SHE WONT KNOW

AND NOW THERES A WARDEN

beautiful. wonderful. they are so dead

vanessa....

'yeah btw jamie mightbe being corrupted by void'

also fun fact! i am guessing everyones origins as we go. i know nothing i went in blind. its great. nothing is explained i love life

this episode is a train wreck. its so so great

'SNEVE WERE GODS'

'yeah this is a good place' 'so what about the queens head right there' 'dwbi'

'i have a wish no one on the smp is prepareed for' oh no.

'it kinda transformed into its own, evil throne room' yeah ok thats perfectly normal. sure. vaults always turn into evil throne rooms. thats normal.

whats your plan viking. viking whats your plan

oh no hes gonna set legundo and fix againsteach other. i cant wait

lmao their concern over his laughs. dw guys hes just a silly lil guy. a buddy. not a murder ghost at alll

my new skrunkly is going insane. good for him

oh. good noises.

i love his evil laugh.

he got the carpet echest thing from tango!!! :D

for the record i am a tango tek enjoyer. he is my Guy tm

taneesha jumping around. bouncies.

LEGUNDO JUST SHIVERING. THE ENTIRE TIME

'the queen doesnt scare me' sir. poor move. probably.

YOU DO NOT FEAR THE VOID? THE ALL CONSUMING NOTHING? THE ETERNAL DARK?

oh. oh he just wants his memories back. hm what is going on here.

'i dont want to be a ghost forever. its lonely' ow. ow

viking the puppetmaster.... pulling the strings of chaos

finale time. oh god. im not ready actually

the PODIUM..... my god

JAMIE NO

'THIS MIGHT BE REALLY BAD' yeah the queen just got possessed by the void and flew off with the egg. and you think it MIGHT be bad???

'for chaos to be fun theres gotta be a world left' yeah. true

IT WORKED IT WORKED IT WORKED IT WORKED

he got nuggies!!!!

'nothing could possibly go wrong' legundo said, before everything went wrong

oh shit. ok. yeah ok that was. shitt

conclusion: viking dominionsmp is a pathetic wet rag and also a catboy who deserves to Kill. i fucking love this smp

[sugaxjpg]

ghosts just wanna have fun; m

��  When Jungkook discovered that he could communicate with dead people, the last thing he expected was that they would be there to give him romantic advice.

✓ Couple: Jungkook x Reader | Psychic!AU & MedSchool!AU

✓ Filed under: fluff, crack (so many ghost puns), light smut (and jungkook being a nervous virgin) 

✓ Words: 20,062

Author’s Note: In which Jungkook is able to see spirits, but it’s just Taehyung and Yoongi giving him dating tips because he sucks at talking to girls. Hope you guys like it, because it has been on my WIPS for over a year and a half and I can’t believe it’s finally out there... emotional, really.

Also, huge thanks to @storytaeme​, who proof-read this mess like a champ. 

 There aren’t many embarrassing situations that can overcome the fact that Jeon Jungkook found out about his psychic abilities as he was about to lose his virginity. 

To say the least, that hadn’t been the most pleasant of scenarios to open the pathway to the afterlife. Really, there was no casual way that he could justify the scream that broke from his lips, or the dramatic spin he took as he turned around on the bed — which, ultimately, had him falling into the small space between the nightstand and the wall, with his legs up in the air, and his butthole fully exposed for both planes of existence to see. 

Still, that hadn’t been the worst part. If those two pallid silhouettes had merely disappeared once he had seen them, it wouldn’t have been as traumatic — perhaps Jungkook could have found a semi-believable excuse about what he had witnessed — but no. Not only did the ghosts remain there, with their arms crossed before their achromatic clothes and eyebrows slightly raised in expectation, they continued their conversation as if nothing had happened. 

“Oh, he was definitely going to put it in the wrong hole,” the shorter of the two murmured, clearly entertained at the idea. 

The other scoffed. “What if he did?” he threw back. “Maybe he likes that, we can’t judge.”

Truth was that, one way or another, Jungkook couldn’t even figure out what he liked — he didn’t even get the chance. He was gone from his (ex) girlfriend’s place before his brain could even attempt to construct a plausible explanation, even less to digest what had preceded that unfortunate revelation. Now, the wrong hole would forever be a source of trauma for him. 

And the problems didn’t exactly stop there. Ever since his cherry-popping session was interrupted, Jungkook hadn’t been able to move further than the first base, thinking that he would embarrass himself all over again or, worse, be frightened by a random demon passing by. Also, the constant mockery of his ghostly counterparts certainly didn’t help his concentration. 

The worst part? Helping Jungkook was kind of their whole point. And they couldn’t even do that right. 

Taehyung and Yoongi were their names — they told him right after the first night he saw them. Jungkook didn’t know what had happened in the afterlife that they had been punished with such a horrendous mission and, frankly, at that point, he was too afraid to ask. 

“But I don’t need your help,” Jungkook had said after one particularly bad date, dramatically throwing himself onto his bed. The furniture creaked under his weight and he wondered if it would snap before his mind did. “I just want you to leave me alone or, I don’t know, help me with something else — something useful.”

The two ghosts were by his desk, looking at his class notes and, at that comment, Yoongi raised his eyebrows. “Useful? Like what?” He asked. 

“I don’t know, solving crimes or something,” Jungkook mumbled, turning around so he would face the wall. God, he just needed two seconds alone. 

Behind him, Taehyung laughed. “You don’t even know how to open a bra, and you're out there thinking of reopening cold cases? Give me a break.” 

“Ouch,” Jungkook whispered. Maybe another time, it would’ve hurt his pride a bit more. That night, however, he was too tired to care. “For your information, I do know how to open a bra. You two just started whispering and it distracted me.” 

“We were whispering to you the instructions on how to open a bra,” Yoongi responded. “Would you need those if you knew what you were doing? No.” 

Jungkook sighed. “I just—”

“This conversation is done, we went over this already.” Yoongi interrupted. “You need us, whether you want it or not. You’re painfully bad at romance, Jungkook, even worse at initiating sex. I’ve never seen something like that before.” 

At that, Jungkook rolled on the bed and faced them. There was only one light in his bedroom that was on — the table lamp — and its clear orange shade passed through them both in an odd mixture of contours and lines. “Maybe if I could do it myself, without you two buzzing around the place, it wouldn’t be so bad,” he responded, aggressive. 

“Calm down. You were already bad enough when we arrived,” Taehyung told him, leaning over to see all the scattered pages on his desk. He frowned once he saw something he couldn’t quite understand, and quickly turned away from it. “Nothing changed much.” 

“Right!” Jungkook sat up on the bed. “Isn’t that enough of a sign for you two to stop trying to help me, then?” 

“No,” Yoongi said calmly. “That’s a sign that we have to try harder. And so do you.” 

He sneered. “I absolutely don’t.” 

“Yes, you absolutely do,” he said. “You know what? Grab your phone and get yourself a date with that girl you like from physiology class. Two weeks from now.” 

There was a second of silence as Jungkook’s mind struggled to piece the idea together. He wasn’t even sure about who Yoongi was referring to, there were a lot of girls in his class. “What? Why?” 

“Just trust us. She’s into you,” Yoongi spoke. 

Taehyung nodded in agreement. “It’ll work out.” 

Jungkook scoffed. “When does it, really?” 

“This time, it will,” Taehyung said. “Really. Do it.” 

“Fine.” He breathed out, reaching for his phone. “What girl?” 

Yoongi looked him up and down. “You know what girl.” 

With a deep breath, Jungkook scrolled over his contact list, struggling to find someone that he would have even the slightest chance with. Truth was, he has no fucking clue of which one of the hundred and fifty people in his class would even look in his direction, much less go on a date with him. 

“You do know… right?” Taehyung asked, clearly worried. “We can’t really give you names, but you… know, right?” 

“What? Oh, yeah, yeah! Sure I do!” Jungkook laughed nervously, clicking on a random name and opening a chat. “Here, I’m sending her a text right now. No reason to worry… no reason at all.” 

“Good,” Yoongi said, distracted. “Now, if you need us, we’ll be watching Gone Girl with your neighbors. We already missed the start of the movie, and I’m pissed off as it is.”

Taehyung nodded. “Amazing movie,” he said. Jungkook pressed send and prayed for the best. “We should have more movie nights over here.” 

 Yoongi said something in agreement and, in a second, they were already gone. Jungkook was left alone in his bedroom, with the light of his lamp casting over his features the desperation that he was feeling inside. 

“This better work,” he mumbled to himself. “You two better not be trying to embarass me.”

_____________

And then, two weeks later, Yoongi and Taehyung were laughing at him as his last failed attempt at romance got up from her chair and basically ran away from him.

Yoongi leaned back against the chair, his ankles crossed over the large table. If someone else could see him then, he surely would have received a few complaints about keeping the mall under semi-sanitary conditions. “Jungkook, I’ll tell you something,” he started, clearly amused. “You’re so bad at romance that I wish I was alive just so I could punch some reason into you.”

Taehyung, who had stayed mostly quiet during the painfully awkward interaction, walked beside Jungkook and chuckled at his distress. Still, he was focused on the other ghost, and the implication of his speech. “That amount of violence is the exact reason why you’re no longer alive, Yoongi,” he pointed out, then turned to Jungkook before he could smirk at the reprehension. “But really, that was awful. If I weren’t spiritually tied to you, I would’ve given up by now. You’re hopeless.”

“Completely out of it,” Yoongi added. “Do you even know how women work?” 

Jungkook rolled his eyes, and reached for his phone: there was no way he would enter a discussion with those invisible pricks in a public situation without something to mask it. Not that it would have been the first time.  

Yoongi materialized on the seat next to Jungkook, his head leaning against his hand. The boy was already used to those sudden changes of position, but that didn’t mean that he liked it. In fact, after Taehyung had appeared next to him during a particularly bad time — in which the incognito tab had already been opened, and a bottle of lotion already waited for him — he could never erase the intense panic of such experiences. 

But of course, Yoongi knew that, and he used his discomfort for his own entertainment. “You can’t ignore us, kiddo,” he said slowly, clearly amused. “And you can’t ignore the fact that you’ll die alone, surrounded by cats, if you don’t start listening to what we have to say. We have been tied to you for a reason.”

“And the reason,” Taehyung added, “is to make you stop cockblocking yourself.” 

With a subdued groan, Jungkook pressed his phone against his ear — an old trick that allowed for him to have a conversation without being seen as clinically insane by passersby. “You two are the reason why this date went downhill,” he told them. “You told me to say all the wrong things. You two set this up knowing I’d fail.” 

“Oh, no.” Taehyung shook his head in disagreement. “The words were right. Your delivery was awful.” 

“Western-movie-awful,” Yoongi added. “And if you want to change that, you have to trust us.” 

“Trust you? Where has that taken me?” Jungkook questioned, irritated. “You’re the reason why I lost my first girlfriend and haven’t had another one ever since.” 

Yoongi chuckled. “The girl from the first night? She never talked to you again after that, did she?” He asked, but, of course, he already knew the answer. “Damn, that was cringe-worthy. Butt in the air and everything.”

“No need to remind me, I was there.” Jungkook clenched his jaw, trying to control his demeanor. It wasn’t fair that there was not much that he could do to make the two men shut up — since they were, quite literally, already dead, he didn’t have many threats to utter. “And whose fault was that?” 

“Technically, yours.” Taehyung shrugged. “We didn’t present ourselves to you, you just saw us all of a sudden. We were just as surprised.”

“Besides, you were the one that had the B.F.,” Yoongi added. 

Jungkook raised one eyebrow. “B.F.?”

“Bitch fit,” Taehyung elucidated. “He watched White Chicks with your neighbors last night, don’t worry about it.” 

Jungkook groaned, pressing his hand against his face. Of course — the cherry on top would be outdated pop references, as expected. Yoongi had always been quite fond of the classic ‘with great power comes great responsibility’, and Jungkook thought that the overuse of that quote would be the ultmost reason for his insanity. Nevertheless, he came to understand that it was nothing compared to movies like White Chicks or even Legally Blonde. He would rather hear Uncle Ben’s famous line a billion times over before Yoongi accused him of having a B.F. once more. 

He took a deep breath and tried to focus on the environment around him. The murmurs and disembodied conversations around the mall had morphed into the sound of irritating insects, and he felt as if the earth could just open up and eat him alive. He probably committed a terrible crime in a past life to be stuck with Tweedledee and Tweedledum like that. 

“Anyways,” Jungkook stressed, “it didn’t seem like the two of you were surprised that I could see you. You just kept… talking about me. And my ass.”

Taehyung chuckled. “You were the one with the ass up in the air.” He vanished, then materialized in the seat in front of Jungkook. “What were we supposed to do? Ignore it?” 

“It was an easy target,” Yoongi spoke, then seemed to realize the words that had left his mouth. “Wait, I didn’t mean the double interpretation.” 

“Why can’t the two of you just fucking help me for once?” Jungkook asked aggressively. In a nearby table, one old man raised his eyes from his vegan burger and stared the boy up and down in disapproval. Jungkook lowered his voice and switched his phone to the other ear. “This is unbearable. You two are only making it worse.” 

With a gesture that Jungkook knew all too well, Taehyung used his thumb to point over his shoulder, towards the path that his failed date had followed. “That one wasn’t good enough for you,” he said nonchalantly. “We can tell. We know stuff.” 

“Then why did you set this up in the first place?” He asked, exasperated. 

“As DJ Khaled says, you played yourself,” Yoongi cited. One more reference and Jungkook would be the one joining the world of the dead. “It’s not our fault that you get nervous and can’t deliver the lines right. When have the two of us ever failed?”

“When you died,” he spoke back. “Or did you forget the stupid mistake you made?”

Yoongi hesitated. As much as he tried to play it cool, he wasn’t the smartest one around. In fact, his tragically premature death was all the evidence Jungkook needed to make his point clear. 

During his living days, Yoongi was pretty invested in rock climbing. On a beautiful summer afternoon, just as the sun was setting over the green-bathed hills, one of his friends dared him to bungee jump from the same cliff they had just climbed, and were standing on. Of course, the man agreed promptly, saying that he wouldn’t back out from such a mundane task; stating repeatedly that the fall wouldn’t be so high up anyway. But that wasn’t the turning point: Min Yoongi, in all his adventurousness, quickly decided that his local shop was too expensive and that he would create his own bungee jump cord instead. 

According to him, making the cord proved itself to be quite an easy task. He had gotten some help from his local adrenaline addicts and the final product was a very good copy of the factory-made ones. He measured the cliff twice just to be certain, compared it to the rope, and made sure to test the sustentation and elasticity as many times as he could. 

Still, Yoongi had overlooked an imperative detail: he shouldn’t use a cord that was the same height as the cliff he was jumping from. 

Needless to say, he only realized his mistake once he was already dead. 

Yoongi scoffed at the memory, ignoring his hurt pride. He swore he could still feel his back hurting when he thought about that. “That isn’t the point,” he said. He often did that: changed the subject once he realized he couldn’t leave with the upper hand. “The point is that you keep delivering lines like you’re a bad boy in a South American novela, then expect us to perform a miracle on you.” 

Jungkook frowned, lowering his head. “That’s actually so wrong.” 

But the problem was: Yoongi was right, and Jungkook knew it. In fact, that had been the exact reason why his date had left him that night — the boy had misunderstood Taehyung’s advice to play off as a mysterious man, and instead projected his image somewhere between a psychopath and a person that had only K-dramas as a basis of how human interactions were supposed to work. Jungkook missed his attempts at romance the entire time, but the breaking point was when Yoongi told him to act as a bad influence because, according to him, girls dig a good bad boy. 

Once again, Yoongi wasn’t the brightest mind when it came to risk-taking. That was why he was more dead than Jungkook’s bedroom. 

Jungkook, however, did not realize his own errors until it was too late. He had chuckled at his date’s embarrassment, using his opening to delicately place her hair behind her ear. “I’m going to tell you something,” he started, voice swift and placid as a river. With his eyebrows raised and his lips vaguely forming a pout, he looked like an off-brand version of Handsome Squidward. “I’m not really a good influence, and surely not the kind of guy you’d like to get with. So why don’t you do me a favor and follow the simple orders I give you, uh?”

Her eyes had widened in a mixture of second-hand embarrassment and fear. From the corner of his eyes, Jungkook saw her reaching for her purse over the table. “No, thank you,” she was quick to say. “I don’t think this will work, sorry. I’ll see you around college.” 

And that’s how they ended at that point. The point they always seemed to end up in. 

“I think I need a break from all of this,” Jungkook said, closing his eyes for a moment of peace. “I have a huge test next week and I couldn’t even study for it because of all the preparation for this stupid date. Can you two just take a step back? Just for a little while. Romance can’t be all that I think about.”

As he opened his eyes, he saw Taehyung staring at him. He couldn’t really read his expression. 

And, without an answer, the two of them vanished. 

_________________

If someone asked Jungkook why the hell he thought going to medical school was a good idea, he’d simply say that, at the time, it made sense. After all, he had thought, he’d be some sort of super-doctor, since he had an exclusive VIP pass to the afterlife — just imagine how many people he would be able to help just by asking a friendly ghost what was wrong with a patient. It would be a game-changer. He could even find the cure of cancer if he tried hard enough. 

But of course, he quickly realized that he should’ve thought further about his decision. Maybe being a detective would have made much more sense — it would have been a lot cheaper, that’s for sure, and he wouldn’t have to sit through almost twelve hours of classes every single day for a diploma that seemed to be too far away for him to care. 

That particular class, however, wasn’t the worst one out there. 

It was Tuesday, and Tuesday meant Pathology. Jungkook loved that class because the professor hated teaching it, so the students had to sit in silence for about three hours trying to read the textbook by themselves. The professor said he would be there to answer any questions, but he was mostly scrolling through his phone and interrupting students every time they tried to ask him something — “That’s in the textbook, just keep reading.”  

Most of his classmates absolutely despised that subject, but Jungkook thought it was wonderful: he often learned better by himself anyways, and the lack of conversation during class brought him some sense of peace. Besides, Yoongi and Taehyung hated sitting in that quiet room for too long, so they mostly left after ten or twenty minutes of trying — and failing — to strike up a conversation with Jungkook. It was the perfect day.

Well, most days it was. 

Just as he was about to move forward to the next topic — Adrenal Insufficiency and Addison’s Disease — , the boy felt something poking his bicep and he was quick to turn to his side. Instantly, he recognized your expectant gaze and something fluttered inside his stomach. 

“Hey, Jungkook,” you whispered, leaning over your desk, “is tomorrow afternoon still up? I really need help in cardiac physiology. I kind of suck.”

He hummed in agreement, fighting against the nervousness that crept up on him. Jungkook’s palms started to sweat just by looking at you, he really was one step away from reverting back to his pre-teen days. “For sure. I’ll be at yours at five,” he managed to get out. 

“Thank you so much,” you said, then moved back against your seat. “I owe you one.”

“Don’t worry about it.” He smiled. If it had been anyone else, Jungkook would’ve had a stroke by then — after all, he wasn’t always invited to a girl’s place so easily. That’s someone that I have absolutely no chance with, he thought. So friendzoning himself made everything much easier. “Are you sure you don’t want to meet up at the library?” 

“I can’t really concentrate there,” you answered. “But if you prefer, we could go.” 

“No, no.” He shook his head. “Your place is fine.” 

You smiled again, and Jungkook thought that maybe being shot wouldn’t hurt so much. “Thanks. See you at five.” 

Jungkook nodded and turned around, facing his laptop. Just as he was about to restart typing his notes, he saw a known reflection at the corner of his computer. Oh, God, have mercy.

Yoongi’s reflection smirked from the back row. “Oh, man, she’s so into you.”

 Jungkook shook his head in denial, eyes still glued to the PDF file in front of him. If anything, his classmates would have just guessed he was finding that subject more difficult than usual and, quite frankly, no one could judge him. 

“No?” Yoongi raised one eyebrow, reappearing by his side with his hand supporting his cheek. Jungkook didn’t even need to look at him to know that he was just looooving the discomfort that grew inside his limbs. “I know those things, kiddo. It’s my job.”

From the front seat, Taehyung hummed in agreement. He had his arm placed over the chair, and seemed to find that entire situation a bit boring — maybe because he had seen it countless times before. “She definitely wants to get some of that,” he said. “We are proud of you, son.” 

With a subdued sigh, Jungkook scribbled some aggressive words at the corner of his notebook, and showed it to the man by his side. “Look at this, Taehyung, he’s trying to convince us that they’re just friends,” Yoongi mocked, crossing his arms. “That’s cute. Just because you’re that oblivious, it doesn’t mean that we are.”

“Jungkook, we’ve been watching the two of you talk the entire semester,” Taehyung added. “Besides, Yoongi made me follow her around once. She’s definitely into you. In unholy ways.”

Yoongi nodded once again. “She wants to be your boo.”

“Was that a fucking ghost pun?” Taehyung’s nose cringed up in disgust, and Jungkook had to fight back the reflex of laughing at his reaction. “Awful.”

“At least I’m not the one who ghostwrote Jungkook’s ethics essay.” Yoongi threw back. “Yeah, and that was another pun. You’ve got no spirit.” 

“You know what? Now I know why Jungkook can’t stand us anymore.” Taehyung smirked and, then and there, Jungkook knew exactly what was coming. “He can see right through us.”

The other ghost nodded. “Yeah, we’ve reached a dead end.” 

Jungkook groaned in exasperation, hiding his face behind his hands. “This is torture.”

Next to him, you chuckled. “Come on, pathology isn’t even that bad. You’re good at this.” 

“I know, I’m just tired.” He turned around to look at you, uttering the same excuse he had been using this entire semester. Not that it was an uncommon one, especially in the fifth circle of hell that was medical school. “I think I need to splash some cold water on my face. Wake myself up.”

You hesitated, staring at him as he stood up.  Jungkook looked strangely pale, like he was about to throw up all over the classroom. “Is everything okay?”

Fantastic! My bachelor ghosts are just making me have a nervous breakdown. 

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine,” He said, almost stumbling over your chair. Some of your pens fell down, but Jungkook couldn’t even bring himself to get them. He’d probably just knock everything else over in the process, and he wasn’t even sure that he could stand back up after. “Shit— Sorry. I’ll be right back.”

Behind him, Yoongi chuckled. “Spook-tacular skills, as always.”

_____________

The sound of running water was all that entered Jungkook’s mind for a moment, his face feeling the coldness of the liquid as he splashed himself once, twice, trying to clear his thoughts. In the end, it was mostly in vain: his class was ruined, his notes were left unfinished, and he couldn’t get a second of tranquility anymore — not even in Pathology. If he weren’t canonized after his death, he would file a complaint for sure. 

Abruptly, he closed off the faucet and the water stopped running. There was a heavenly instant of quietness, in which Jungkook followed the crystalline droplets falling from his hair to the sink, before Yoongi’s voice echoed behind him. “How you doin’, champ?” 

Jungkook sighed and raised his head, looking at his ghost counterpart through the dirty mirror. “Is the bathroom empty?” he asked calmly. 

“Hm? Yeah,” Yoongi said. “The ghost is clear.”

Just like that, his serenity was gone. “Yoongi, can you fucking stop? Your puns stopped being funny after the third attempt,” Jungkook asked, exasperated. He pulled some paper towels, and got even angrier at the way they fell apart in his hands. Good to know his college money was being used wisely. “Jesus. Where is Taehyung?”

“You know he hates toilet paper,” Yoongi told him. “Reminds him of his death.”

Jungkook considered the compelling idea of banging his head against the bathroom wall until he, himself, was part of the world of the dead. As he recalled very well, Taehyung had been a victim of Final-Destination-levels of misfortune: just because he had forgotten to take toilet paper to his camping trip, the boy had been forced to use nearby leaves. Those, as he would soon come to understand, caused an awful allergy on his lower lands, and the punctual bleeding was a sufficient opening for opportunistic diseases. The culprit? Some super strange bacteria that floated around the river. He was dead less than twenty hours after he came back home from septic shock.  

Taehyung had endured, quite frankly, one shitty death. And, yes, Yoongi had made that joke a few too many times before. 

“Doesn’t matter,” Jungkook realized. “What did I tell you two about chit-chatting with me in large public places? Especially my classes? I have to pay attention. And I have a test in two days, I need to be all here, and not thinking about other people.” 

Yoongi giggled — almost childishly so — at the other’s anguished attitude. His teeth, a pallid shade of white, could barely be seen against the olive-green tiles that covered the bathroom walls. “You weren’t paying attention to the processes of intestinal inflammation, that’s for sure,” he teased, forcing himself to hold back his jokes a bit. 

“I wasn’t even studying that chapter,” Jungkook mumbled. 

Even Yoongi, who had a dense personality for such a diaphanous soul, could tell that the student was not in the mood for mockery. “Man, why are you so stuck-up? Taehyung and I are ghosts, but you’re the one with the dead sense of humor.”

Jungkook realized he needed a moment to think before he started yelling at nothing in a public bathroom. He really hoped the other stalls were empty, but he couldn’t be bothered to check. 

“This isn’t about the puns. You two just don’t respect my privacy,” Jungkook said. This time, he was able to pull some good paper towels and proceeded to dry his face. “This has been going on for too long. Why don’t you two just vanish for some time?”

“Wish I could, kiddo, but I’ve got hours to clock,” Yoongi finally admitted. From the mirror, he could see the frown of confusion that was cast over Jungkook’s features. “Don’t look at me like that, I’m only following rules. Talk to the big guy upstairs if you want to complain.”

He threw the paper on the trash and shook his head in confusion. “I just don’t see the point of any of this.” 

“You don’t have to.” Yoongi took a step closer. He often looked so unbothered — the two of them, actually — that Jungkook caught himself wondering which certainties they held, notions that would most likely be given after death. “Just do what we tell you to do.”

“That has only embarrassed me so far,” he said, turning around. “I don’t think I have it in me to trust in you two one more time. It has gotten me nowhere. Or, rather, nowhere good.”  

Yoongi sighed. “Alright, let’s do it like this, then: You go and help Y/N with her cardio whatever stuff, and Taehyung and I just watch. We promise to shut up, unless you’re doing something seriously embarrassing. Other than that, absolute silence.”

Jungkook narrowed his eyes. “You promise you two won’t tell me what to say?”

“Promise.” Yoongi nodded. He looked very sincere. “We won’t talk to you.” 

“I can live with that, yeah,” Jungkook agreed, leaning against the bathroom sink. “Sounds good.”

“Perfect.” He smiled. “Trust me, Jungkook. I only made one mistake in my life.”

Jungkook smirked. “And it killed you.”

“Not the point.” He raised one finger, clearly annoyed, then pointed it at Jungkook. “You’ll do great. It’s not like you’re gonna tell her about us or something.” 

He laughed. “Yeah, that’d be awful.” 

________________

But that was, ultimately, what he did.

To be fair, it was never Jungkook’s intention. He was completely sure that it would ruin not only his friendship with you, as it would also ruin his reputation, both as a student and as a future physician. Come on, how would he even explain that? How could he tell anyone that he not only saw two obnoxious ghosts, but that they were there to give him romantic (and sometimes sexual) advice? That’s insanity. 

Spoiler: he didn’t explain it very well. 

In the cosmic perspective, however, it was kind of Yoongi’s fault too. He had the problem of giving away too much sometimes, especially when he was alone and free from Taehyung’s scrutiny. And it was that extra bit of information that catalyzed the explosion that would become Jungkook’s confession. 

For some reason or another, Taehyung hadn’t joined the two of them that day, as Jungkook crossed the campus towards your place. For the first time in a long time, their conversation — which was, again, masked by Jungkook pretending to be on the phone — was actually quite pleasant. Yoongi had told him a bit more about his life back in the day and explained that he was studying to become a lawyer when he died. 

“I was thinking of dropping out anyways,” he said. “I just picked a random thing to study because I didn’t know what I wanted to do. And, well, I kind of did drop off. Just not from the course.” 

Jungkook could not help but laugh at the absurdness of it all. Sad coincidences aside, it was unusual for Yoongi to make jokes about his death. Taehyung was much more open about it, but Yoongi seemed to be very bitter because of the way and the time he passed. But of course, who was Jungkook to judge? 

“You know,” Yoongi started after a moment of quietude. “Taehyung and I were pretty surprised that day at the mall.”

Jungkook frowned. “Hm? Why is that?” 

The other man chuckled. “Honestly? Because you’re dumber than we thought.”

Seems like pleasant times didn’t last much between the two of them. “We’ve established that I can’t talk to girls, Yoongi, I know.” Jungkook really wanted to change the subject. 

“No, not that,” he denied. “Let’s go back a little. Remember what we told you in your bedroom that night? To get the physiology girl.”

Jungkook nodded. “Yeah, what about it?”

Yoongi laughed, amazed that Jungkook still didn’t get it. “You called the wrong one, idiot,” he explained. 

“What?�� Jungkook paused in his tracks and, in a mindless reflex, forgot he was supposed to be talking on the phone, and looked directly at Yoongi, lowering the device away from his ear. “There is a right one?” 

“Hey, pay attention to your surroundings.” Yoongi pointed at a couple that also stopped, confused at the man’s actions. Jungkook cleared his throat, trying to regain some composure after that minor instant of public humiliation, and placed the phone back against his ear. “Let’s keep walking.”

With his heart beating insanely fast against his chest, Jungkook did as he was told. His mind was flooded with fragmented thoughts, working around words that seemed so simple, yet held so much.

“Yes, there is a right one — and you’re going towards her right now.” Yoongi responded, placing his ghostly hands inside his ghostly pockets. Jungkook never noticed that he still used the clothes that he had on when he died, but Yoongi wouldn’t be the first one to mention. “So don’t make a fool out of yourself. Not this time.” 

Jungkook swallowed dry, feeling as panic started to climb up his lower limbs, weighing down on his muscles. His throat was dry as a desert and forming sentences proved to be a far more difficult task than he had anticipated. The air around campus had suddenly become hot for an autumn day, unable to enter his lungs with ease. He really was two steps away from a full-blown anxiety attack. 

Yoongi frowned. “You good?” 

Jungkook licked his lips, only half aware of his actions. “Y-Yeah,” he struggled to get out. “Just kind of a bomb that you just dropped on me, that’s all.” 

Yoongi nodded, uninterested. “Yeah. Get over it. It’s not a huge deal.” 

Only, it was. For Jungkook, at least. What if you two were… you know? Meant to be? Like the soulmates kind of thing; star-crossed lovers. Like in the “we got married after two months of dating and we are still together after sixty years” kind of insane love? That was a lot to process, a lot to think about, especially when he was having like three different crises at once. It was a recipe for a disaster. 

Jungkook really was dumb when it came to anything besides his textbooks, but not for jumping into those conclusions. Frankly, most people would’ve been a bit overwhelmed by that. 

No, his problem would reside on his next thought: If you two were meant to be, you would understand if, for some reason, he had to tell you about his ghosts, right? 

Right?

_______________

To be fair with Yoongi, he did keep his promise. The two didn’t interrupt your conversation once, even if sometimes the moment begged for it, and Jungkook was two words away from ruining everything. Strangely enough, things seemed to work themselves out — the horrible jokes that Jungkook uttered seemed to suit your sense of humor; the shy and nervous demeanor that plagued his dates slowly melted away. It was good — in fact, it was the best talk he’s had with someone in a long, long time. 

The issue was that, as much as the two of them didn’t talk directly to Jungkook, they still talked. 

“What was that thing that she said, you know, to her friends?” Yoongi mumbled, his words coming out as a vague connection of syllables being formed at the corner of his mouth. He had his arms crossed, and his legs pushed up on the couch. “You told me that.”

“Yeah,” Taehyung took a moment to think. He had one of his hands buried deep inside the pockets of his white pants, and the other on the back of the couch. The two of them watched the conversation that unfolded above your living room table, the two of you trying to make sense of a subject that seemed to change every five minutes. “It was like ‘homeboy can like, get it’... or something.” 

Yoongi nodded, satisfied. “Nice.” 

Jungkook cleared his throat, trying to ignore that comment. It wasn’t news that you were interested in him — that had been the only thing Yoongi and Taehyung had told him for the past few hours, but it was very, very awkward to know those specific details. He was sure he wouldn’t like you to know the private conversations that he had with his friends, even less about the things he thought about when he was alone. There was something extremely violating about that, but, no matter how hard he tried to convince them, the two ghosts didn’t seem to care enough to stop. 

The giggle that came from across the table ruptured his thoughts. “Why are you blushing?” You asked.

“I’m… uh…” he struggled, suddenly feeling the heat that emanated from his cheeks. Wonderful. Even when he was just thinking about something, he still managed to make a fool of himself. “Just… thinking about some embarrassing things I did in third grade. The usual.” 

“Yeah, I’ve been there.” You smiled, reaching for the textbook across the table, and flipping through the pages. “I ruined this entire science project once. It was something about the pollination of flowers, but I missed that class. Ended up coming back to a lot of roses around the classroom, and decided to take a few of them home to my mom.”

“Oh no.” 

“Yep,” you nodded, looking back at him. Jungkook thought that he had lost himself in your eyes for a moment, a depth so engulfing that he couldn’t find the right words once he stared at it. He had never noticed how beautiful you were — or, rather, he had, but he had never stopped to think about it — and, now, it seemed as if that was the only thing that he could focus on. “Everyone in class was super pissed, the teacher even tried to suspend me.”

He shook his head, trying to imagine a mini-you justifying your flower thievery in front of the principal. “That’s insane, actually.”

“Kind of.” You shrugged, looking back at the book. You weren’t sure what you were searching for anymore, so you decided to close it. You two had been studying for almost four hours straight, you didn’t think that your brain could handle any more of that. “They didn’t really believe me when I told them it was a mistake. Guess no one even noticed my absence the day before, which is… somehow… even worse, now that I think about it.” 

A giggle reverberated in your throat as you dove into those forgotten memories, and Jungkook followed you. 

“Don’t laugh at child me, that’s so cruel.” You smiled. 

“I’m not.” He shook his head. “I just thought you were cute. Still are, you never really stopped being cute, I mean. You’re actually really pretty now, like a woman—” 

“I got it.” You placed your hands over his, and the shock of your skin against his seemed to spread throughout his entire body. He didn’t know if that was a soulmate thing of if he was just really horny. Probably a bit of both. “Don’t worry about it. You’re pretty cute too. Like a man.”  

“Thanks.” Jungkook itched the back of his neck, trying to find the right words to build his sentence. Panic began bubbling at the bottom of his stomach, sinking its teeth into his flesh as his words left his throat. “Actually, I wanted to ask you something.” 

It was the right time now: the studying was over, the conversation was flowing, you had told him that you thought he was cute — like a man. Now, he just needed to ask you out. Just that. That’s it. Three words. He had practiced: Wanna go out? That’s it. So casual. So playboy-esque. He could do it. No pressure. If you were the one, he didn’t have much to get wrong. 

But, oh my god, what if he got everything wrong? I mean, how many stories are out there of couples who were destined for each other, but something happened and it pulled them apart forever? The wrong time, the wrong place — the wrong words. Jungkook wasn’t psychologically prepared to ruin something so huge with a moment so small. He needed to calm down and focus. Just get the words out. Everything would sort itself out after that. He had faith. 

“What is it?” You asked. 

Jungkook cleared his throat, his eyes still glued to the touch of your hand against his. Outside, birds were chirping, unaware of the absolute shitstorm that was about to ensue. “So…” he started, “I was thinking that maybe I could— I mean, you — I mean we could...”

You tilted your head to the side, confused. “Sorry, what was that?” 

He blinked once, twice, fighting against the wave of sheer terror that had taken over his brain, whitening out his thoughts. He had the sentence ready, but he had forgotten how to form it. “I’m just trying… I’m just trying here to just…” He swallowed dryly. “I was just wondering if you would like to… I mean, if it’s not a problem—”

From the other side of the room, Yoongi groaned. “Just do it! You’re making eternity so much longer.”

And that’s when it happened. 

Jungkook turned around and yelled: “You told me you wouldn’t talk, you asshole!”

The entire room froze. A horrible moment of bewildered reticence followed as  the realization crashed upon him like a gigantic wave. He couldn’t have just yelled at nothing in front of you, like an absolute madman, could he? 

Your eyes widened and you pulled your hand away from his. The lack of warmth was like a dagger being thrown directly into his heart. “Excuse me?”

Yep. He totally did that. 

“Not you!” He was quick to turn around — maybe a bit too quick, too intensely. Even with nervousness clouding his vision, Jungkook could still see the shadow of fear and confusion mingling amongst your features. He had ruined everything, and that was all that he could think about. “I’m just... personalizing my anxiety...”

“Are you... alright?” You spoke slowly, measuring his actions. Jungkook had changed from cute-nervous to absolutely-unhinged-nervous; eyes widened and jaw clenched; hands gripping the wooden chair like his life depended on it. Maybe that study session was a mistake. Maybe you should’ve just googled an online class, like your best friend told you to. “It looks like you’ve seen a ghost.” 

Taehyung chuckled. “That’s pretty funny.” 

And, if the situation wasn’t already bad enough, Jungkook started to convince himself that perhaps it would be a good idea to come clean with you about his psychic abilities — maybe that was actually the only way that he could get out of that mess. If you were his soulmate, you’d understand. It’d all be okay. Yeah, maybe you’d be seriously creeped out for like the first twenty minutes, just like he had been, but eventually you’d understand what had happened. You two would laugh about it later, maybe when you were sixty, on your rocking chairs somewhere, staring lovingly at a cornfield. 

Was he losing it? Probably. But he didn’t have the right amount of mental clarity to fully think about the consequences of his actions in that moment. 

“I… did,” Jungkook spoke sluggishly, barely comprehending the trail of words that dripped from his tongue. His voice was much calmer, but he could still feel like his entire body was engulfed by flames. “I did... see a ghost. Two actually.” 

You frowned. This afternoon couldn’t possibly get any worse. “What are you talking about?” 

“Jungkook, don’t you dare,” Yoongi warned, but his voice seemed to come from miles away. 

Slowly, as if he wasn’t really aware of his own body moving, Jungkook adjusted his position on the chair, looking down at the sea of handwritten notes in front of him. He wished that human interaction was as easy as the types of pulmonary volumes, or perhaps the changes of oxygen inside the hemoglobin. That he knew. That he could deal with.

“Ok so, have you ever watched The Emperor’s New Groove?”

You blinked twice, puzzled. “What?”

“The Disney movie,” he clarified, looking up at you. 

You shook your head, measuring how long it would take for you to bolt out of the door and run away from your own apartment. Maybe you could get out and then call someone for help. You wished you had already taken Psychiatry. “I know what that is, Jungkook, but I just don’t understand where you’re getting at.”

“Maybe it’s in the TV series that came after the movie, I don’t know, but Kronk has these two little beings on his shoulders, a devil and an angel.” He cleared his throat, and looked back at the sheets of paper. It was so hard to stare at you now, when just seconds before, it had been so easy. “I kinda have the same thing, only, they’re dead people. You know, ghosts. And they’re not on my shoulders — that’d be pretty awful, actually.” 

Taehyung mumbled from across the room, “I really don’t think this is a good idea, Jungkook.” 

“You’re making no sense right now,” you said, worried about the effect that your words could have on him. “I think… I think it would be better if you left.” 

“I can see dead people, okay?” Jungkook interrupted, exasperated. You had to understand. You were the right girl from physiology class, you had to understand. 

“Okay, Sixth Sense.” You laughed nervously. Bad time for a joke, you thought, but the boy barely seemed to process it. “Listen, I can tell you’re not doing very well right now, so you should probably leave, maybe clear your head a bit. You already helped me a lot—”

“No, I don’t need that. My head is clear—”

“You know, there is a very good mental health clinic in campus, I’ve gone there already, and I think—” 

“No! I don’t need mental health, it’s true!” Jungkook stood up, walking towards the couch, where the two dead men sat. There was an unspoken contest in the room to see who could be more flabbergasted at the boy’s actions, and you and Yoongi were in a close tie. “I can prove it.” 

You almost choked on air. “You what?” 

Jungkook pointed at nothing. “They’re here right now, I can prove it to you.”

Discombobulated, you shook your head one more time. Maybe if you did that enough, your chaotic thoughts would just fall out of your ears, and everything would be much clearer. Maybe that was a prank, maybe that was a full-blown psychotic breakdown. You just didn’t really know what to do from there. “Jungkook, I don’t think—” 

“Come on, just show yourself to her!” He yelled into the air, more specifically at your white couch. You just wanted to study cardiology, how did it end up like this? “Give me a sign, I don’t know.”

Yoongi chuckled, completely amazed by the way Jungkook continuously broke the Dumb Records that he had previously set himself. No bonus in heaven would be worth dealing with Mr. Smooth Brain over there. He should’ve gone for the orphans instead. “I cannot believe you right now.” He stood up from the couch and sighed, utterly defeated. Maybe he could just get it over with, and then The Big Man Upstairs would show him a bit of mercy. “But I guess now there isn’t much to lose. I’m only doing this because at least it would make this situation a bit better.” 

“How?” Taehyung asked. 

“There’s a slight improvement between psychotic crisis and psychic abilities,” Yoongi responded. He walked towards the window, rolled his eyes at the pathetic presentation of supernatural phenomena, and pulled on the white curtains of your living room. “Here. Boo! Paranormal activity.” 

“Did you see that?” Jungkook asked, excited. 

However, instead of meeting a surprised gaze, he only saw panic and preoccupation swimming inside your eyes. “The curtain moving? Yeah. That was the wind, Jungkook.” You stood up from the chair, measuring your chances at escaping. He was getting more and more erratic, and you didn’t know where the situation could escalate to next. “You’re seriously freaking me out right now. You’re being really aggressive about this.” 

“Yoongi, you’re worse than the spirits in Ghost Hunters,” Taehyung groaned, reappearing next to your living room table. “You have to be bold, that’s what I always say. Make a statement.”

Taehyung’s statement, of course, had been the biggest slap against a lamp that Jungkook had ever witnessed in his life. The ghosts had once told him that it took them a huge amount of concentrated energy to do something as little as move a napkin, so there was no way that Taehyung wouldn’t be exhausted after making that heavy piece of furniture fly against the wall, shattering into a million little pieces with a loud noise. 

“What the fuck?” Jungkook asked. “That was so dangerous! She could’ve gotten hurt.”

He shrugged. “You asked.” 

“What the fuck was that?” You yelled, taking your hands to your face. Was that shared hysteria? What did you just see? Maybe you were the one who needed fresh air and a shrink visit. “You’re pranking me, right? You have like a nylon string wrapped around your hands or something.”

Jungkook moved his head in denial, raising his hands up in a sigh of defeat. “I swear to God, it’s true.” 

“I don’t… I don’t believe you,” you said, clearly terrified. Not at the idea of ghosts, Jungkook realized, but of him. That date surely couldn’t have gone any better. 

Yoongi sighed and materialized behind Jungkook. Lost causes, Yoongi was surrounded by lost causes. “If you really want her to believe you, tell her we can say some stuff about her, but it’ll probably freak her out.”

“They are saying that they can convince you by saying some stuff about you.” Jungkook swallowed dry. Something inside him was screaming for him to just shut the fuck up and leave your building. If there was something he learned by being with the two undead pricks, is that they could always make a situation worse. 

But desperate times require desperate measures. 

You adjusted your posture. Trepidation was still very present in your face, but there was also a small spark of interest swimming somewhere inside your eyes. “I seriously doubt that.” 

“I can show you,” he said. “Just… don’t freak out.”

“Fine.” You licked your lips in anticipation. “The name of my first pet.”

“Is this a password verification?” Yoongi groaned. He just wanted to watch Twitches later that day, but Jungkook just had to start a seance in someone else’s room. Again: the orphans would never. “Fine. It was Mr. Green, a tortoise she killed by leaving to dry in the asphalt.” 

“It was a tortoise, Mr. Green. You left it on the asphalt and it died,” Jugkook repeated without hesitation. 

You blinked twice, taking in the answer. “This is so fucking weird. How did you know that?”

“Yoongi told me.” Jungkook pointed over his shoulder, where Yoongi stared you down. Just by looking in that direction, you felt a shiver run down your spine. You were losing it. “He’s, you know, one of the ghosts.” 

“I’ve never been so exhausted in my life.” You placed one hand against the chair, leaning against it. There was no use to keep that conversation going, and you both knew it — and yet, just like a politician lying, it just didn’t stop. “But you could’ve asked anyone that.”

It was Jungkook’s turn to become completely lost. “Why would I ask such a specific question? I don’t even know your friends.” 

Behind him, he heard another loud groan. “I’m so done with this.” Yoongi placed his hand on his shoulder. “Let me talk, Jungkook.” 

“Do you think that’s a good idea?” He asked.

Yoongi snorted. “We are all out of good ideas. But I think this is the best chance you’ve got.”

“Who are you talking to?” You almost yelled. 

Jungkook looked back at you and, for some reason, the preoccupation in his eyes scared you even further. “Okay, this is going to be really weird, alright? But it’s not gonna be me talking.”

“What?” 

“It’s like… a kind of possession,” he explained, gesticulating a bit more than socially acceptable. “It’s like… uh… One of them is going to use my mouth for a bit. Talk through me.” 

You laughed, and there was a high-pitched sort of timbre to it. That might as well happen. “Sure, of course. What else? Exorcism live?” You asked. 

“Just give me the permission,” Yoongi commanded. 

Jungkook took in a deep breath, and clenched his hands into fists. He hated that part. “Fine,” he consented. 

Gradually, the muscles around his mouth and throat grew numb, as if Jungkook had entered a dream, and his body was responding in autopilot. There was an awful pressure on his shoulders and a ringing in his ears as Yoongi accommodated himself around his body, reaching for control. That was the closest he would ever feel to being a ventriloquist’s puppet, and it was as bad as it could be. 

Yoongi spoke through him with ease: “You told your friends last week that you didn’t care if Jungkook was a shy virgin who played minecraft because he was exactly your type. You also said that your average score in physiology is ninety-seven percent and you didn’t need any help. You just needed an excuse to stay with him. Happy?” 

Jungkook inhaled sharply as the pressure on his body subsided, the numb sensation around his neck growing thinner by the second. “So violating,” he complained. 

“How did you know that?” Your voice shook him back to reality. Both of you were reaching new levels of terror every minute. “Are you stalking me?”

That back and forth was starting to get exhausting. “That wasn’t me. That was Yoongi,” he tried once again. He was starting to think that the whole thing had been a bad idea. 

“Well, fuck you, Yoongi,” you spat. 

Yoongi scoffed. “Fuck you too, princess. Maybe you really don’t deserve this man.”

“I’m not saying that,” Jungkook whispered to him, then turned back to look at you. He wanted to hug you and magically erase your memories for that afternoon, but, in reality, he couldn’t even move his legs without feeling like he could fall face-down on the floor. He really, really, really hated possession. “I’m just… I’m sorry about that.” 

“About what, Danny Phantom?” You asked, throwing your hands up in an exasperated gesture. And there it was: from panic to complete fury. That was all that you two needed at that moment. “About making me scared shitless, or about exposing me like this?” 

He suspired. “Do you at least believe in me now?” 

“Does it look like I believe in you, Jungkook?” You practically screamed. Truth was: neither of you knew that for sure. “I’m a woman of science, you can’t expect me to believe that—”

Taehyung groaned, walking closer to Jungkook. It must’ve been a world record how quickly everyone in that room got angry. “Let me talk,” he requested. 

Jungkook sighed, defeated. How much worse could it possibly get? “Go ahead,” he said.

There it was again: the feeling of being under anesthesia, the weight of an entire other being pressed down against his shoulders. Good times. “Yesterday,” he started, “you masturbated to the thought of Jungkook, but you forgot to recharge your vibrator so you had to use your fingers and you complained the entire time. Explain that, science woman.”

Another deep gasp, and Jungkook was folding over, finding balance on his knees. He really felt like he couldn’t even think straight anymore, his mind covered by a thick fog. 

You didn’t seem to be in a much different situation either. “I’m… gonna pass out.” 

“That was so unnecessary, Taehyung,” Jungkook whispered. His mouth was terribly dry, and his hands were shaking. “You guys really don’t know your limits.” 

“Taehyung? Who the fuck is that?” You screamed. 

Taehyung crossed his arms. “Hey, at least she believes you now.”

“He’s the other ghost. The one with no sense of boundaries.” Jungkook stared at Taehyung, clearly pissed off. Maybe his voice would’ve come out a bit more forceful if he didn’t get thrown around by sadistic spirits. “I’m sorry about that.” 

You shook your head, dumbfounded. “I need you to leave now. And take your ghosts with you.” You leaned over the table, and grabbed his notes, shoving them into a messy pile. Not that you were super worried about the integrity of the paper at a time like that. “This has really crossed like... every line.” 

Jungkook licked his lips, trying to find the right words to say. Someway, he managed to get his legs firm enough so he could start walking in your direction. “Please, I didn’t mean to—” 

You shoved the pile of notes into his backpack, and then the backpack into his hands. Before he could react, you grabbed him by the arm, guiding him towards the exit. “Thanks for helping me, Jungkook.” The door opened with a forceful pull, and you shoved him into the hall. “Never speak to me again. Bye.” 

The bang of the door slamming shut was horribly loud, reverberating inside Jungkook’s chest for a moment longer. Now that the possession daze was starting to move away from his body, the boy could feel the traces of panic crawling inside him. 

Jungkook dropped his backpack to the ground, and started knocking on your door. “Y/N, please!” He called. “I’m so sorry about everything. You have to believe me!” 

Your yell came muffled from the other side of the door. “Go away!” you screamed. “Or I’m calling the cops!”

Defeated, he closed his eyes and placed his forehead against the wood. Now that the situation had already climaxed, the absurdity of it all was starting to become much more palpable. 

How could Jungkook be so stupid? How could he think that you would act normally as you were exposed to the supernatural world? Especially in such distressing, violating ways. Even if you were his meant-to-be, his forever person, it would be ridiculous to believe that anyone would take all  in that with ease. He really outdid himself that time. 

“Let her be, you two can talk another time,”  Yoongi spoke, leaning against the wall. It was possible to see all the places that the pain was starting to crack through his semi-translucent form. “Good attempt, though. I’d give you a star for trying.” 

“This is not funny,” Jungkook mumbled, moving away from the door so you couldn’t hear him. The artificial lights above his head were sharp, buzzing mockingly. “You two keep saying that you’re here to help me, but you keep making stuff like this happen. If she really did like me, you just ruined everything.”

Yoongi raised one eyebrow. “Why do you care so much about that one?”

Jungkook glanced at him. “You told me she’s the one.”

He frowned, crossing his arms. “I told you she was the right girl from physiology class, not that you two were going to die holding hands or something,” Yoongi told him. “You filled the blanks yourself.”

“That’s why we don’t give away all those details,” Taehyung scolded Yoongi, looking at him up and down. Jungkook had never seen him so irritated before — at least not about serious things. “You know we could get in real big trouble if someone heard about that. Which, correct me if I’m wrong, it’s kind of the entire deal of heaven to know about stuff.” 

“I know, I know,” Yoongi groaned, disregarding his preoccupations. Maybe Taehyung didn’t understand his galaxy-brain plan yet, but he was sure that the heavens would. Or at least he hoped so. “But I think there’s something else that we need to focus on. Jungkook wouldn’t care this much about the other girls he dated, even if it was meant to be.” 

“Why are you two talking like I’m not here?” Jungkook asked, annoyed. 

“Why are you talking to yourself like you’re not in a corridor of an apartment building?” Yoongi threw back. Without a second of hesitation, Jungkook picked up his backpack and turned on his heels, walking down the hall, completely done with them. “Hey, come back. Just tell me what’s the fuzz with this one.” 

He didn’t look back. “Aren’t you two supposed to know? All-knowing and shit.” 

“We want to hear it from you,” Yoongi pressed on. 

Jungkook opened the heavy door to the stairwell, allowing for it to hit behind him. Taehyung and Yoongi passed right through it, of course, and kept following him as he quickly moved down the concrete steps. “Y/N is my friend.”

Yoongi hummed. “Go on.”

“Isn’t that enough for a justification? What else do you want from me?” He inquired, aggressive. The sound of his steps echoed like drums through the expansion of the staircase, and he hoped that no one else had been listening to his apparent monologue. “I don’t wanna ruin this friendship by talking about her masturbation techniques, I don’t know if that makes the situation super unique.” 

Taehyung clicked his tongue. “You have other friends.” 

“I care for her, alright?” Jungkook turned around abruptly, making the two ghosts stop in their tracks. Taehyung had almost lost his balance, but it wasn’t as if that could have any serious consequences for him. 

Jungkook sighed, trying to control the anger that had built up so rapidly, and continued speaking. “I care for her more than other friends. Fuck, is that what you two wanted to hear? Besides, it’s not like I know anyone better than her.  I didn’t even think I had a chance with someone like that until you told me. She’s smart, she’s funny, she’s like… super hot when she’s mad—”

“Oh, would you look at that.” Yoongi grinned, satisfied. “Jungkook’s whipped.”

“What?” His eyes widened. “I’m not.”

“Why are you so red?” Taehyung asked.

Jungkook covered his face, feeling the heat of his checks emanating against his palms. “I’m not!”

“Okay, okay, calm down, tiger,” Yoongi raised his hands in a silent request for forgiveness.  They were still a few steps above Jungkook, and the whole scene looked like something straight out of the Book of Revelation. “This is a good thing, we actually thought it would never happen. It’s not like you’ve been this introspective in what… five years? More even.” 

He narrowed his eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

Yoongi sighed, and looked at Taehyung for confirmation. The other ghost nodded in a silent agreement, and Yoongi started to speak. “Listen, we’re here to help you, but we didn’t say everything,” he admitted. “We couldn’t, really, otherwise it wouldn’t be so... organic.”

“What?” 

“Jungkook, you were desperate to lose your virginity,” Yoongi explained. “You still are, in a way. And that’s not a good thing, because you’ll get the first thing that moves and you’ll try to stick your dick in it.”

Taehyung chuckled drily, looking at a fixed point. “Which is not a good idea, believe me,” he spoke in a mumble, and Jungkook could not help but think that his advice came from personal experience. That, of course, was a story for other, less sober times. 

“Is that why the two of you always interrupt me?” He asked, a bit offended. “Because those girls weren’t right for me? Like this is a purity cult or something?” 

“Eh.” Yoongi did a so-so gesture with his hand. “Kind of. Not really. Doesn’t matter. What matters is that you actually feel something for this girl, something beyond the thoughts that come from your lower head.”

“And she feels something for you too, even after that trainwreck that we just witnessed in there,” Taehyung added patiently. “Which will help us a lot in the long run.”

“This doesn’t make any sense.” Jungkook crossed his arms, stubborn. He really could look and sound like a child throwing a tantrum when he wanted to. “I still don’t get it. It wasn’t your place to tell me who I could or couldn’t be with, it’s not as if you guys are—” 

“Jungkook, that’s enough,” Taehyung interrupted him. “You don’t think it makes sense? Stop and think for once in your life.” 

He narrowed his eyes. “What did you say?” 

Taehyung glanced at him. “Listen, we just saved you from months of wrong dates and wrong nights. We pushed away people who didn’t really care about you, who just wanted you to use you, or who would end up cheating on you anyways. Not everyone gets this privilege,” he said, completely done with that victim mentality. “So, for once in your life, be grateful. Be grateful for the bad dates,  the embarrassment, the times that it didn’t work out. And, look, we are sorry for the way they had to go down, it wasn’t as funny as it seemed from our perspective. But if you didn’t have those bad dates, you’d have very, very bad months following them. So you’re welcome.” 

“And all those bad dates lead you to the right person,” Yoongi completed, watching as Jungkook’s expression withered into shame. He was staring to get it — they could almost see the hamster in his brain start running. “Now, listen, we don’t know if this is the for-life situation, that’s not the kind of information we have, alright? Do I look like a seraphin to you? No. But does it matter?  No. Most relationships aren’t the for-life thing anyways, but they are here to teach you something. And if the afterlife thought that there was something good for you here, who are we to judge?” 

“Yeah,” Taehyung agreed. “Now, can you  please forget about all those past people and just focus on her? Maybe shut the fuck up while you do that? I get that you wanted to get your dick wet, but there’s a time and a place for that.” 

The boy sighed, and leaned against the red handrails. It took Jungkook a few seconds to speak out. “I feel like I’ve just been lectured by my parents,” he admitted. 

Taehyung relaxed his shoulders. “Good,” he said. “I’ve been meaning to slap some sense into you for months now, but I didn’t really have the permission.” 

“Feel better?” Jungkook asked.

He nodded. “Much better.”

“I’m happy for you,” he said. Jungkook ran one hand through his dark hair, pushing back the strands that had fallen over his eyes. “And about Y/N… There’s no way she’ll ever talk to me after this mess. I ruined everything.”

Taehyung nodded. “You pretty much did, yeah.” 

“You took the worst case scenario and managed to make it even more horrible,” Yoongi said. “It’s pretty impressive, actually.” 

“Thanks, that’s great.” Jungkook chuckled, humorless. He could always count on them for emotional support. “But, I mean… What do I do now? I mean, is there anything that we could do to save this?” 

“Worry not, my child,” Yoongi smirked, crossing his arms. “Taehyung and I are masters of seduction, and we’re here to help you. Just trust us.” 

“And before you say something,” Taehyung interrupted, raising one finger. “You never had the right girl before, so we weren’t really trying. I think we can find some real solid ground here.” 

Jungkook breathed out, and looked down at the grey stairs. Yeah, it’s not like he wasn’t at the bottom of the well already. “Fine. One last chance,” he agreed, looking back at the ghosts. “Just tell me what I have to do.”

______________

Much to Jungkook’s delight, he didn’t need to muster up the courage to talk to you, because you did that first. 

For the first time in their lives (and deaths), Yoongi and Taehyung actually did something right. Jungkook didn’t really know the details of their plan, all that he knew was that they would find a way to “make you see what you were missing” so that you would “come crawling back to him”. Which didn’t sound threatening at all.

 Countless possibilities crossed Jungkook’s head — horror movie hauntings, Taehyung invading your dreams with claws for fingers, Yoongi with a wet wig crawling out of your TV — but, in the end, no matter how much he insisted, the two of them just wouldn’t say a word. Apparently, there was a lot going on backstage that Jungkook had no idea about, so he should just “take it easy” and wait for the sequence of events to unravel. Amazing. Now he knew how the characters in Final Destination felt. 

“Just be patient, young one,” Taehyung had told him, thrown over his couch like a Victorian monarch. “All you need to know is that she will be back. Everything else it’s just… details.” 

And, two weeks after the dormitory incident, you did. 

There was a muffled thud as you placed your large books over the wooden table, and sat down across from him. The silence of the library didn’t allow for Jungkook to foresee your arrival, and to meet your gaze so suddenly was enough for his face to burn up in shame, his heart drumming against his ribcage. His sympathetic system really needed to quit with that bullshit before he collapsed. 

“Hey,” you mumbled, seeming just as uncomfortable as he was. “Can we talk? You know what about.”

The boy swallowed dry, and leaned a bit forward. “Y-Yeah, sure,” he whispered back. “I’m really sorry, Y/N, I don’t know why I thought—”

“For how long?” you sliced his sentence short, making his lips fall shut. 

Jungkook raised his eyebrows in surprise. “What?”

You cleared your throat, and shuffled on your seat. As much as the library was practically empty, neither of you felt courageous enough to use your usual voice tone — especially when dealing with that subject. “How long have you been able to, you know, see them?”

Jungkook took a second to respond, licking his dry lips and looking at the line of bookshelves as if seeking for the right thing to say. He felt awkward enough just interacting with someone from the opposite sex, but talking about the ghosts he saw? Hell, that bordered on a panic attack. Especially after the circus show that was that past study session. “Almost two years now, I think,” he finally answered. “But they told me they’ve been around for a bit longer. I just couldn’t see it.” 

You shook your head in concordance, even if the information was everything but easy to understand. “That’s crazy,” you spoke. “I don’t know how you deal with it.” 

Jungkook let out a dry chuckle. “Not very well, as you can probably tell.” 

 “I don’t think I can judge you. I didn’t precisely react well either.” You swallowed dry, wide eyes flickering on the world behind Jungkook. “Are we alone now?”

As much as he already knew the answer, he looked around just to check. “Surprisingly, yeah,” Jungkook responded, slightly suspicious. Yoongi and Taehyung were always looking over his shoulder and throwing him into messy situations, he couldn’t tell why they weren’t there when, quite frankly, it was their perfect shot at humiliation. Maybe they really were doing their jobs for once. “I don’t know why they’re not here. That’s weird.”

You shrugged as if to say that you wouldn’t know either. “What are their names again?”

“Yoongi and Taehyung,” he answered, then waited another second to see if he could feel their presence. Nothing again. That was really strange — they often responded upon being called. “Listen, Y/N, I hate what we went through. They had no right to say those things. I’m used to the privacy issues, since I have been with them for a while. But you aren’t, and I can only imagine how weird you felt hearing all that. I’m really, really sorry.”

You pressed your lips together which, Jungkook guessed, was a failed attempt to suppress the rubor that exploded across your cheeks. He couldn’t blame you, though, for there were limits that were crossed. “I’m over it if you are,” was what you forced yourself to say. 

“I am,” he lied. None of you were particularly good at not telling the truth, and that was pretty obvious. But ignoring it was a start. 

“Good, okay.” You cleared your throat, placing the palms of your hands against the pile of books. “Sorry for lying about needing help in physiology, and all that. I just needed an excuse to spend more time with you, as you know now. I guess it’s obvious that I kinda have a huge crush on you.”

“It’s fine.” Jungkook laughed, extremely relieved to notice that your last sentence was in present tense. “I kinda have a huge crush on you too.” 

Honestly, even if it wasn’t for life, he’d have to give you props for still liking a guy that had had a borderline psychotic breakdown in your apartment, talked about your pet tortoise, and your masturbation technique, and still had the nerve to expose you to the supernatural world. It was a lot. Good on you for taking it like a champ. 

“And,” he continued, “sorry for using my ghosts to expose your secrets. I just needed to find a way for you to believe me, and I had no idea about what they were going to say. I was pretty much in a frenzied state, I wasn’t thinking straight. It won’t happen again.” 

“Apologies accepted.” You smiled, relieved. You were really beautiful, Jungkook thought in a breathless instant. He could look at you all day. “You know, it’s going to take me some time to get used to all that. I mean, I’m still not a hundred percent sure I believe in everything, but, I… My lamp flew across the room, and you told me things that you simply couldn’t know about. So, if it’s a prank, it’s a really good one.”

“I know how it is.” He nodded in agreement. “It was really difficult for me at first, too. I understand if you’d rather just stay away from me from now on.” 

You sighed, looking down at your books —  the two mammoth-sized volumes of Harrison’s Internal Medicine staring at you in mockery. “Weird thing is: I don’t really want to.” You crossed your arms and leaned back against the chair. Was that the sound of angels singing? Jungkook couldn’t tell. “I’d love to spend more time with you. Alone, if possible. And that counts both planes of existence.” 

“Sounds fair, I’d love that.” Jungkook smiled. As he met your eyes, he was filled with a  warm, rose-colored courage that he had never felt before. “Actually, I was wondering if, you know… you wanna do something? With me? Alone, of course. No ghosts. One of these days, I don’t know. If you’re not busy—”

You raised your eyebrows, interested. “You’re asking me out?”

He sighed, shoulders falling in defeat. “Trying, yeah. You can see I’m not the best at that either.”

Your smile grew a little. “That’s a big yes.”

“Really?” Jungkook stared at you like a lost puppy, his mind going completely blank for a second or two. The hamster in his brain was now somersaulting through his body, landing on his stomach and hitting him with a wave of nausea. “Wow, thanks. I don’t really have an idea of what we could do, though. Didn’t think I’d get that far.”

There was an instant of quietude as you thought for a moment, the space between the two of you permeated by the vague sounds of pages turning. “Movies?” You asked. 

“Sounds great.” Jungkook smiled openly, his shoulders falling in alleviation. He didn’t know what Taehyung and Yoongi had done, but he was beyond thankful for it. Seemed like their sacrifices weren’t in vain, after all. “The film majors are doing this 2000’s marathon this week. I think this Saturday it’ll be either Mean Girls or 17 Again.”

“I’m in,” you spoke excitedly. “I’ll be there, just text me the details.”

Jungkook almost swallowed his own tongue as he watched you stand up, presenting him with a gorgeous view of thighs beneath the level of your skirt. “Great!” He exclaimed a bit too loud, his voice a bit too high-pitched, awakening his inner thirteen-year-old. He cleared his throat, lowering his voice another octave. “I mean, yeah, great. Thank you for… saying yes.”

“Thank you for asking.” You placed your hair behind your shoulder, and leaned in to pick up the heavy pile of books. All nine kilos of Internal Medicine. 

“See you there,” he said. 

You smiled. “See you, Kookie.” 

Jungkook watched you walk away as if he was floating in a fever dream, completely unable to believe what had just unfolded. Did he seriously manage to get a date with you? Of all people? He must’ve been hallucinating. Maybe he ended up falling down the stairwell and died, perhaps that was his heaven, and he would— 

Behind him, Taehyung sneered. “Kookie? You’re getting softer than your dick.” 

Jungkook turned around so brusquely that the chair tilted back and, if it wasn’t for him holding down to the corner of the table, he would’ve fallen to the ground. “You two were there all along?” He whispered-screamed. Before he could land a sermon on them, though, he met the devilish smirk that was plastered all over Yoongi’s features. Oh no. No. The movies. “No, Yoongi, I know what you’re thinki—”

“Get in, loser, we’re going to the movies.” 

_________________

Saturday rolled around and, with it, came your much anticipated movie date. Jungkook had spent the previous night tossing and turning on his bed, completely monopolized by anxiety, thinking about every possible apocalyptic scenario that could go down. What if he tried to take a slip of his drink, but ended up blinding himself with the straw? Maybe he would step on the wrong chord and set the entire college on fire. Or maybe he would trip, fall down on a poor girl, and kill her on the spot. That would be awful, you would never talk to him again after any of that — the imaginary disappointment in your face was like a punch in the gut. 

Was he being ridiculous? Obviously. Did that stop his pre-date panic? Obviously not. 

Still, with the might of a thousand warriors, Jungkook managed to drag himself to your date, his knees almost giving out beneath him when he saw you — he didn’t believe you would actually come, for some of him still thought it was all a sadistic heaven prank. Somehow, he blurted out a compliment about how good you looked while he was having a heart attack, and almost lost his consciousness when you smiled at him. 

Yep, it would be a difficult night. 

The movie marathon consisted of three 2000’s movies, and the two of you managed to arrive right before Mean Girls started, fumbling on your seats as the rest of the room grew quiet. The makeshift classroom didn’t look like a movie theater in the slightest, but it wasn’t as if you were expecting that in the first place — it was nothing more than an agglomeration of chairs and desks, combined with a few puff chairs and old couches scattered around. Much to your delight, you and Jungkook managed to grab one of those couches before another couple returned to their seats, and he could see that his ghost buddies had already found their own place on the empty chairs behind the two of you. 

Surprise! None of the catastrophic scenarios in his mind actually came true. In fact, he had a great time with you, laughing at your jokes and sometimes flat-out stealing Yoongi’s commentary just to make you chuckle, which granted him a few mumbled complaints coming from the back row. 

“Jungkook is so superior, don’t you think, Taehyung?” Yoongi mocked, and Jungkook was sure that he would be kicking his seat if he could. “So smart. So great. But can’t even figure out his own jokes. Has to steal them from a poor dead man. You’re a grave robber.” 

Taehyung chuckled. “Hey, you’re helping him, at least. That’s our whole point here.”

“Grave robber!” he repeated, more aggressively this time. “I can’t believe you’d ruin Mean Girls for me like this. Not even hell would be so cruel.” 

“How dare you say that about hell? If I get in trouble because you can’t keep your mouth shut, Yoongi, I swear to God—”

“Now you’re saying God’s name in vain, you heretic! That’s so much worse!” 

Jungkook had to bite back a laugh as the two continued bickering behind him, only half aware of the scene in which Regina George glued her own picture on the burn book. He didn’t know when exactly he had done it — he had been so on edge the entire night that it was almost as if his own brain was instantly deleting his memories, but he had managed to curl one arm around your shoulders, pulling you closer to him. He was sure that you could hear the frantic heartbeat of his heart against his chest, but he didn’t mind. He didn’t think he could even get that far. 

But he did, and even reached beyond that. 

Once the screen faded to black and the credits started appearing, there was a resounding wave of claps in the room, cheering for the absolute cultural reset that was that movie. One of the students moved to the front of the room, explaining that they would take a ten minutes break, then would return with She’s All That. Apparently, 1999 was close enough to the 2000’s for it to be picked as well. 

“Do you wanna stay and watch it?” He asked, fighting every muscle in his body not to smell your hair. He knew that it would be super creepy, yeah, but your head was right there and it smelled so good. 

You removed your body from his chest, looking up at him. “I would love to, but I have to wake up early tomorrow to study,” you said. “Big test on Monday.” 

“Sure, yeah.” Jungkook nodded, slightly let down. To be honest, he had completely forgotten that information until that point. Seems like he would have a lot to catch up on during the next day. “I’ll walk you to your dorm.” 

You thanked him with a smile, and you two got moving. 

The walk back to your place wasn’t exactly awkward, but it could have also been a lot better. The two of you talked about the movie animatedly, the subject that you had to study — an awful amount of gastric pathology to memorize — and, eventually, landed on your weirdest experiences during hospital rounds. You were in the middle of telling him how two toddlers (twins) managed to puke on you at the same time, and how you thought that was a sign of a telepathic connection between the two, when he felt the back of his hand brush against yours, and everything around him turned into static. Suddenly, it was all that he could think about. 

Jungkook had already spent the entire date with questions flying around his head. When was the right time to pull you close? Could he hold your hand, or would that be too bold? Could you smell how sweaty he was? Or maybe his deodorant was too strong? If he ran away, trained to be an astronaut, and joined the Mars colonization mission, would he be able to avoid embarrassing himself again? 

And, more importantly: would it be weird to kiss you goodnight? 

Considering the fact that he had no clue how to read your body language, and that almost all of his romantic experience came from bad sitcoms and Twilight marathons with Yoongi, Jungkook didn’t judge himself suited to answer that last question. He didn’t know if he should hold your hand, he didn’t know if you were just being polite or if you actually had a good time. Again and again, his anxiety got the best of him. He should really get back to seeing his campus counselor. 

“So… we’re here,” you said, holding your hands in front of your body. You had stopped at the entrance of your block, and Jungkook took that as a sign that you didn’t want him to go all the way back to your apartment. Fair enough. “Thank you for tonight, I had a lot of fun. We should do this again sometimes.” 

“For sure, yeah.” Jungkook nodded, somewhat relieved that you asked for that. At least that was a clear sign that you didn’t completely hate him. “That would be great.” 

You agreed and looked down at your shoes. The darkness of the night enveloped the two of you, only half of your features illuminated by the dim yellow shine of the nearest light post. Jungkook almost fainted when you stared into his eyes, with a faint blush painting your cheeks, and questioned, “So, you’re not gonna kiss me?” 

Windows’ blue screen. Please, hold.

 “I… I, uh—” Jungkook’s mouth felt as if he had just swallowed an entire desert, his brain fighting to keep his voice steady. Your eyes, so focused and expectant, felt like daggers against his chest. “I didn’t know if you wanted to,” he finally admitted. 

Your shoulders fell as a tender smile curled up on your roseate lips. Jungkook thought you were the most beautiful thing he had ever had the pleasure of seeing. “I do,” you told him gently. His heart almost leaped out of his throat. “Do you want to?” 

And that was the easiest question that he would ever answer. “Yeah,” Jungkook said. 

You smiled. “Perfect.” 

The boy barely had time to react before your hand was curling around the fabric of his shirt, and you pulled him towards you in a playful tug. Jungkook’s eyes stayed comically widened for a second after your lips met, but, soon enough, he allowed himself to melt into your embrace, his nervous hands landing on your waist, and his mind instantly calming down. 

He kissed you slowly, carefully, almost afraid that, at the faintest of movements, reality would shatter and he would lose that moment forever. Of course, it didn’t, and he stayed on that instant a bit longer before, at last, he pulled away, slightly breathless. 

“I should’ve done that sooner,” he confessed. 

You tilted your head at him, fingers playing with his hair. “It happened at the right time,” you said. “Some things can’t be rushed. Especially the good ones.” 

Just like that, he understood what Taehyung and Yoongi had been saying all those years. No matter how cliche it was, there was some truth to the saying that ‘what is supposed to happen, will’. And, the better that something is, the more work it will require. 

But, as he kissed you again, Jungkook realized that it was all worth it in the end.

____________

The following months by your side were so amazing that Jungkook constantly brought back his theory that “maybe he was actually dead, and that was heaven.” And, if it was, he would make sure to shake God’s hand himself because, holy fuck, was he one lucky man. 

Okay, maybe the first few weeks together were a bit painfully cringe-worthy, but he was really trying to pretend as if they didn’t happen. Jungkook didn’t really get the memo, and he had to slowly figure out how to behave romantically with you. He got it wrong the first few times — kissing you at the worst possible moment, or sending you a huge bouquet of roses during your microbiology exam — but, eventually, you guided him towards more neutral grounds. Then everything went smoothly. 

Surprisingly, even the undead duo calmed down for a while. Yoongi and Taehyung were still around, since they had no other option, but were much quieter now, only making punctual remarks when Jungkook made a fool out of himself. Hell, they even left the room when things started getting more serious between the two of you, instead of giving Cosmopolitan-worthy advice, and that was a huge improvement. 

But, of course, it wouldn’t be Jungkook’s life if there wasn’t a huge joke waiting just around the corner. Soon enough, another issue would present itself. 

It came in the form of a warm mumble against his lips, and the vague — yet deliciously noticeable — rolling of your hips against his own. “Jungkook,” you called, breathless after a long make-out session. The two of you were on his couch, with you sitting on his lap, straddling him. “I want you.” 

He froze. What else would he do? Jungkook was a panicked virgin. He knew that your intimate times would happen eventually — and he really wanted them to — but he didn’t expect that his mind would completely malfunction once he got so close, with his erection growing inside his pants and the softness of your breasts pressing against his torso. It was just a lot, alright? 

And, lost amidst the tempestuous sea of his sudden despair, all that he could utter back was, “Are… Are you sure you want to do this right now?” 

“Yeah.” You placed a strand of hair behind your ear. Jungkook thought that he could faint on the spot. It was actually a pretty common sensation with him. “You don’t want it?”

“No — I mean yeah! Yeah, I want it.” He choked on his words, looking down in embarrassment, only to meet the contour of your thighs. His youth leader had been right all along: temptation was everywhere. “I’m just… I’ve never done anything before.” 

“Hey, it’s okay,” you tried to calm him down, placing your hands on his shoulders. The heat of your palms seemed to have some effect on the chaotic emotions that boiled inside him, for his muscles relaxed considerably under your touch. “I won’t pressure you, okay? If you want to take more time, it’s completely fine.” 

“No, it’s not like that. I don’t feel pressured.” He shook his head, then looked up at you. You could almost feel the conflict inside his gaze, the mixture of anticipation and fear that you knew all too well. “I want you, Y/N, I really do. I’m just nervous.”

“It’s fine,” you repeated. “We don’t have to do anything now, and we can start slo—”

But he couldn’t listen to the end of your phrase, because a familiar voice damn near hollered from the other side of the room. “Taehyung, come in here! Quick!” Yoongi yelled, signaling through the door like he was controlling the air traffic. “He’s getting some! Jungkook’s about to get his cherry popped the fuck off!” 

You tilted your head to the side, staring him down with preoccupation. “Jungkook? Are you okay?”

“The fuck! There is no fucking way!” Taehyung’s voice got louder as he yelled, signaling his growing proximity. “Call NASA right now!”

Jungkook sighed, throwing his head against the couch. Goodbye erection, and goodbye any chance of having sex that day. “Yoongi and Taehyung just showed up,” he mumbled bitterly. 

You lowered your gaze and took a deep breath, then removed yourself from his lap. Jungkook hated the lack of heat, and he swore he would have drop-kicked the two if they weren’t in a different dimension. The certainty of death was all that he needed to know that he would get his revenge some day. “Of course they did,” you complained, fixing your clothes. “I love being cockblocked by cockless ghosts. Again.”

“Hey!” Taehyung sounded actually offended. 

Jungkook turned around harshly, his voice bitter. “Can the two of you just fuck off? This is not the time.” 

“So you two can fuck?” Yoongi grinned, then looked at Taehyung. “We should, actually.”

“Jungkook… this is too weird now.” You raised your hands in a silent bargain for it all to stop. You could deal with a few psychic sessions every once in a while, but being a voyeurism victim for ghosts wouldn’t be the way you wanted to spend your afternoon. “Let’s do this another time, okay? I should get going anyways. Big day at the hospital tomorrow.” 

He took one of his hands to his face, massaging his temple. You got up from the couch, reaching for your backpack. “Yeah, okay.” The boy pouted, and you leaned in to give him a quick peck on the lips. Disappointing end for a night, to say the least. “Good luck tomorrow. Text me if you get an interesting case!”  

“Thanks! I will.” You threw your backpack strap over your shoulder and started walking towards the exit. Jungkook couldn’t blame you for just wanting to leave that place as soon as possible, he was sure that the discomfort was much worse for you. “Bye, Jungkook! I’ll let you know when I get to my place.”

He opened his mouth to thank you, but you were already out the door. The lock clicked shut, and the silence became thick, mocking him. Even if he already had an actual girlfriend, Jungkook still found himself being left behind by someone that would never want to see him again — dick semi-hard and morale shattered on the ground. Seems like he always found himself back in that position. 

Taehyung materialized on the couch next to him, hugging his knees. He was staring at the closed door, somewhat expecting that you would come back, but knowing very well that you wouldn’t do so. “Okay, I accept that it was our fault,” he said, oscillating his gaze towards Jungkook. “Sorry, man. We are like, super invested in this. There’s almost nothing interesting going on in the afterlife and this is, like, better than any TV show airing right now.” 

Jungkook rolled his eyes, utterly exhausted at the mess that had become his life. He was done giving them sermons: it had basically turned into the world’s worst pastime and gave little to no results. “You know what? Just promise me you’re not going to show up next time.” He stared both of them down. “I don’t wanna be watched, that’s just weird. And I know that Y/N isn’t happy about that either.” 

Yoongi shrugged. “Some people like it.” 

“Yeah, I’m not one of those people,” he told him. “Guys, please. I know you two are as excited as I am about this, and I appreciate your... support, but I think this is something I need to do alone. In peace. Not being watched by spirits. That’s isn’t too much to ask.”  

“He’s right, you know?” Taehyung said, looking back at Yoongi. “We should stay in our lane for now.” 

The other ghost looked down at his feet, which basically morphed into the carpet beneath them. For the first time in two long years, he actually seemed like he was rethinking his actions. “Yeah, sorry,” Yoongi responded. “We got carried away. We’ll leave next time. Maybe try something when your neighbors are having a movie night.” 

Jungkook’s shoulders fell in alleviation.  Maybe not everything was doomed. “Thank you,” he spoke, then nodded in agreement. “Yeah, I’ll probably do that. When is the next one?” 

Taehyung looked at Yoongi, then back at him. “What are the chances that you’re gonna get your virgin shit together by tomorrow night?”  

___________

Slim to none, actually, but he had managed to (kind of) do it. Focus on the “kind of.”

Jungkook had spent the previous night doing in-depth research about sexual intercourse,  and basing his actions in real-life situations. That meant that he stayed up until four in the morning watching porn. Not masturbating. Just watching it very closely and trying to learn what to do — like an actual serial killer. 

“Do you think that this is… a good idea?” Taehyung spoke from the other side of his room, preoccupation plastered all over his face. The whole porn-science was funny for the first twenty minutes, and then it just ended up being terrifying. “You know that people don’t actually have sex like that, right? It’s all exaggerated.” 

“Quiet!” Jungkook raised his finger after a particularly loud moan echoed, his eyes red and glued to the computer screen. The white light from his device was awfully sharp, bathing his figure and making his image border on demonic. It really wasn’t a good look. “I’m researching. I need to know what to do.” 

“You look and sound like a maniac.” Taehyung walked closer to the bed, measuring his movements. After he died, he thought that he would never be afraid of any other living thing — but Jungkook had just proved him wrong. Against his best judgement, he took a peek at the screen. “No! Oh my— That’s not natural. That’s so wrong. You should know, you studied anatomy.” 

“I’m not gonna do this tomorrow,” Jungkook mumbled, closing the video. Taehyung recoiled back to the darkness of the room like a vampire that had just been touched by the sun. “The plot was interesting.” 

“You’re not even hard, man,” he said, pointing at Jungkook’s trousers. “This is like, really weird. You should stop before you have some problem getting it up tomorrow.” 

“What are you trying to say?” He narrowed his eyes, paranoid. “That wouldn’t happen. I know what I can do.”  

“You’re the medical student, take a look,” Taehyung insisted. “There’s research about that, pornography affects young men and women a lot and— Actually, what the fuck am I talking about? This is crazy. I should’ve left with Yoongi.” 

“Wait, I just—” Jungkook closed his computer with a sigh. His hair was disheveled and his gaze was unfocused. It really was the oddest night in Taehyung’s life/death. “I just don’t know what to do tomorrow. I’m about to have an anxiety attack. It’s like the third one tonight.” 

Taehyung pressed his lips together, the discomfort inside him being replaced by a warm sense of understanding. “Man, she knows you don’t have experience. She isn’t expecting a porn star performance, or whatever the fuck you were just watching.” He pointed to the computer, which was now neglected amongst the sea of blankets. “By the way, I’m a changed spirit. I hate you for making me see that.” 

Jungkook would have laughed at his distress if he wasn’t too tired to do that. “Technically, you decided to look at it yourself,” he corrected. “But, yeah, I know she’s not expecting anything great. But I don’t wanna make a fool out of myself, you know? Not like it’s a rare occasion or anything.” 

Taehyung shrugged. Being alive made everything seem so much more important than it actually was, he thought. “Lay back and let her take the lead, then.” 

Jungkook furrowed his brow, his eyes widening at the idea. Of course! That was the big  galaxy brain moment he needed all along. “Are you serious? It’s that simple?” He asked, hopeful. 

Taehyung chuckled. “I guess we’ll have to wait and see.” 

Yeah. It was that simple. Who would’ve thought that those see-through idiots actually would have something intelligent to say? 

Really, it was a time of miracles in Jungkook’s life. The following day, the planets aligned and, for the first time ever since puberty, everything went right for him: the class ended a bit early, his neighbors decided to watch two movies instead of one, and his place was perfectly devoid of any paranormal activity by the time you wandered into it. 

He didn’t tell you that he had planned that entire thing before it happened — he thought it would be super strange to schedule his virginity loss out loud — and he was glad to see that everything evolved naturally. One hour and forty minutes after you arrived, you two were already at the same point that you had left the day before — only, this time, you two actually managed to get to his bed.

“They’re not here, are they? You’re sure?” You asked in between kisses for what should’ve been the fifth time. 

“No, I asked them to leave earlier.” Jungkook’s hands pressed down on your hips, the sensation of your center rolling against his erection eliciting a sigh from him. Ha! Fuck Taehyung and his soft dick curse. “I actually… Before we do anything, I actually wanted to know if you could, you know, help me a little.” 

You hummed, taking your face away from his. Jungkook watched as you licked your lips, your eyes dazed, and leaned in to place another kiss against his mouth. “In what way?” You asked. 

“Just... show me what to do,” he said. “What you like, if I’m doing something wrong… everything.” 

With a soft smile, you agreed, arms curling around his shoulders. “Of course,” you told him. “It’ll be my pleasure.” 

That being said, you dove back to his lips, feeling as he both simultaneously relaxed and tensed up under your touches. Jungkook had evolved a lot in those past few months, you realized, since the early-dating version of him wouldn’t find himself in that position without turning into a stuttering, blushing mess beneath you. It was kind of cute, but you’d never say that out loud. 

You felt his hands trailing up your back, underneath your clothes, his palms dwelling in the softness of your skin for a moment before, in a courageous movement, he decided to pull your shirt up. There was a short separation of your mouths as the piece of clothing slid up your arms, and collapsed against the floor in a puddle of cotton. 

Jungkook sighed once he felt the lace of your bra against his hands; the softness of your breasts was something that he continuously daydreamed about. Now, without the barrier of your clothes, all that he needed was to remove that last constriction and he would be— 

“Oh well…” He chuckled nervously, fumbling with your bra. “Sorry, I don’t know how to open this.”

You smiled at the embarrassment that danced around his features. “Relax, okay?” You said, moving your hands to your back and taking care of that problem yourself. You’d teach him about the magic of unclasping bras another time. “It’s fine.”

But Jungkook didn’t have time to think about an answer, for soon your bra was meeting your shirt on the floor. His reaction would’ve been the same if you just moved over and came back with a baby dinosaur in your hands — his eyes widening in amazement as he took in the image of your nude breasts, a small whimper perishing in his throat as he slithered his hands upward, cupping them. 

Your breath stopped for a moment when he leaned in, reluctant, and enveloped one of your nipples with his warm mouth, his tongue delicately coming out to trace circles on your sensitive flesh. Jungkook groaned at the sensation, his cock becoming unbearably hard against his pants, and tilted your body over so he could be on top of you. 

You curled up against the sheets, sighing in delight as the boy continued to work on your breasts, kissing and sucking lightly, taking his time. Every time you looked down, you could see that Jungkook was having almost as much fun as you, the small moans that dripped from his tongue vibrating inside your chest. 

“Does it feel good?” He raised his gaze towards you, expectant. “Am I doing a good job?” 

“Yes, very good.” Your hands curled around the roots of his hair. The action was gentle, but Jungkook shuddered under the sensation — every small movement proved itself to be a lot for him to handle. “You’re doing amazing. Is there something that you want to do, Kookie?” 

The boy licked his lips, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down as he swallowed hard. Part of him (probably the sleep deprived one) still didn’t believe that you two were actually doing that — that it wasn’t just a figment of his horny imagination. No, it was real. You were right there in front of him, beautiful and devastating, caressing his hair as you waited for an answer. 

“I… I want to make you feel good,” he said, wide-eyed and hesitant. His dick felt painfully hard being so constructed by his pants and, suddenly, he became aware of how clothed he still was. No wonder it was so hot. “Just tell me what you want me to do.” 

Your lips curled up at his adorableness, one of your hands meeting his wrist. Patiently, you guided it down, and placed it on the hem of your pants. “Can you touch me?” You questioned. “I can tell you what I like.” 

“Oh, please,” he almost pleaded, his hand already fumbling to open your pants. Much to his delight, those were a lot easier than your bra, and they were soon sliding down your legs with ease. 

He took a moment to take in your form, eyes traveling up from your legs, to your hips, then all the way back to your breasts. As Jungkook met your gaze, he allowed for a suspire of relief to depart from his mouth, shoulders relaxing. “I’m so lucky,” he spoke, “I can’t believe we’re doing this.”

The smile that you presented him looked brighter than all of the stars above. “Come here,” you called, leaning against your elbows. “Give me a kiss.” 

Obedient, Jungkook did as you requested, a grunt escaping his chest once you pulled him into a sloppy kiss, nails brushing lightly against the skin of his neck. He had goosebumps at the sensation, his hand moving by its own will, navigating down your stomach and towards your heat. 

His fingers hovered, insecure, over the hem of your panties for a moment. Still, at the sound of his name being spoken against the kiss, he was overtaken by an ephemeral spark of courage. Soon, your panties were on the floor too. 

“Fuck, you’re so wet,” Jungkook whined at the contact, his fingers dwelling just above your entrance. Inside his pants, his cock twitched at the sensation, his lower body already tingling with excitement. He didn’t know how he would manage not to cum in his pants, but he would have to find a way. “What do I do now?” 

“Now...” you said, leaning your head against the pillow. “Move up and find my clit. Make all those hours of anatomy worth it,” you joked. 

Jungkook nodded, but anatomy was much more difficult when he wasn’t actually looking at a certain part of the body — he was much more interested in watching your expression. Embarrassed, he did as you requested, trailing his wet fingers up until you told him to stop. “Right there,” you said, sighing once you felt his hand pressing down on it, starting to trace small circular patterns. “That’s it, baby, great job.” 

His heart leaped at the compliment, and his actions became firmer. Jungkook thought he would go insane when he heard you whimper and cry out at the sensation, your hips bucking up against his hand ever so slightly. “You’re so hot,” he breathlessly confessed, his words coming in a hot puff of air against your neck. His digits slowly trailed down, towards your entrance, and he paused. “Can I?” 

“Yeah,” you agreed. 

Jungkook swallowed hard, adventuring one finger inside you. At the sensation of your walls clenching around him, he moaned, biting his lip. “God, you’re so tight,” he told you, adding a second finger. You raised your hips at the contact, hands curling on his hair. “I can’t wait to feel you around my cock.” 

His mouth came back to your breasts, sucking and licking your flesh. Jungkook was a mess, you realized — pressing down his hard member against your thigh, whining against your skin as his fingers curled inside you, sinking into your wetness. God, you weren’t made of steel. “I want it,” you told him, and he didn’t understand your words for a moment. “I want to feel you, Jungkook.” 

And he didn’t need anything else. The boy moved away from your body and pulled his shirt over his head, tossing it on the floor alongside the rest of your clothes. It was no time for hesitation— he didn’t know how much of his precious alone time he had left. “Condoms.” He pointed at his nightstand. “Top drawer.” 

You turned around on the bed, reaching for the furniture as the boy unbuckled his belt and clumsily removed his pants. The mattress bounced beneath you as Jungkook tossed himself around, finding a way to lose his balance as he threw his pants on the ground. Much to his relief, you weren’t paying much attention to it. 

He was already panting — in a mixture of excitement and his pathetic effort to remove his pants — by the time that you gave him the condom. “Do you put it on, or do you want me to?” You asked. 

Jungkook had trained on enough bananas to know that he could do it, but he wasn’t gonna let the chance to have you touching him down there pass. “You do it, please.” 

You nodded, sitting next to his expectant figure. Jungkook’s chest rose and fell in anticipation, his muscles glistening with the small droplets of sweat that decorated his caramel skin.  His cock was hard and heavy against the fabric of his grey underwear, practically calling for your care. 

Attentively, you watched as his abdomen tensed up at the feeling of one of your hands pressing down against his clothed erection, delicately moving towards his crown. A gasp tumbled from his lips as you rolled your thumb against it, noticing the wetness that had already accumulated beneath your hand, and he rolled his hips against the pressure. Really, Jungkook was too precious. 

“Please, don’t tease,” he begged, eyes following your every move. His cock throbbed in your hands, needy. “I don’t think I can hold it much longer.” 

With a hum of agreement, you moved your hand away from his erection, and pulled his underwear down gently. Jungkook whimpered at the fiction, and the way his cock was freed from its constraints, bouncing back against his abdomen. The smallest of touches was more than enough for him to lose himself. 

“Shhh, it’s fine,” you calmed him down, slowly (too slowly) rolling the condom on him. His hands clenched into fists next to him, grabbing handfuls of the white sheets. Okay, maybe you were being a bit mean. “Just tell me what you want.” 

Jungkook closed his eyes for a moment, holding back a cry of frustration. “Ride me, please,” his words came out in a plea, his expression so permeated by need that you thought that he could cry if you teased him any further. God, everything was so perfect about him — the glistening in his onyx irises, the reddening of his lips as he bit down on them, trying to fight back a whimper as you placed yourself over him. “I— I need to feel you. I’m going crazy.” 

There was no need for more convincing — again, you weren’t made of steel. 

You sighed as you sank down on his member, one of your hands finding support against his pecs, as the other curled around his cock, guiding him inside you. Jungkook closed his eyes and threw his head against the alabaster pillow, his flower-like lips opening to cry out at the sensation. “Oh fuck,” he cursed. “Oh, baby, that’s so good.” 

Seeing him like that, so submissive, so deliciously responsive to your faintest of touches, was, at the very least, extremely erotic. You loved to see the way he flinched and whined at the sensation of your walls clenching around him, his hands unsure of where they should be on your body. Awfully slow, you rose your hips from him, almost letting him slip out, before you shifted your weight back down, watching as Jungkook moaned out your name. 

God, he was really about to fall apart. 

Slowly, you began setting a pace, moving up and down on his cock. It was a lot slower than Jungkook expected, but it was just the right speed to make him appreciate every sensation of your body wrapping his own. 

“Feels good?” you asked, a bit breathless. The sensation of him filling you up was even better than you had anticipated, and, combined with his shameless exclamations of pleasure, you didn’t think that you’d last much longer either. 

Before he could answer, a tremulous sigh ruptured upon his mouth, reverberating just behind his teeth. Jungkook took another second to find his words, inhaling sharply. “So good,” he spoke, and you almost whined out at the lust that ornamented his voice. “Can you move faster? Please?” 

Maybe in different times, you’d take your time to provoke him a bit more. At that point, though, you’d do anything he wanted you to. “Yeah,” you agreed, doing as requested. The sound of your wetness and the slapping of skin against skin was lewd, filling the room alongside Jungkook’s voice. “Like this?”  

“Fuck, yeah, like this,” he cried out, closing his eyes in absolute euphoria. He could feel the movement of your asscheeks against his palms, the sensation enough to drive him insane. Jungkook was already amazed at the fact that he didn’t embarrass himself with premature ejaculation the second that you removed his underwear — but it didn’t mean that he didn’t get close to it. The second his hands squeezed your ass, he was positive he would end the game a bit earlier than the two of you would like. “It— it feels so good. Please, don’t stop.” 

With a moan, you threw your body forward, placing kisses on the curvature of his neck, a sensation that quickly sent shivers down his skin. The new angle made his cock hit even deeper inside you, causing for you both to melt in pleasure. “You feel so good,” you told him, nails digging against his flesh. The knot in your stomach was all too familiar, and you knew that you wouldn’t take much longer. “I love having you inside me.” 

“Oh, yeah, that’s good.” He mumbled, only half aware of the words leaving his lips. Jungkook’s eyes were dazed and unfocused, looking at nowhere in particular, his fingertips digging in your flesh. “You’re… you’re getting tighter.” 

“Y-Yeah,” you agreed, voice coming out in a moan. “I’m close.” 

He swallowed hard. “I can help,” he said. 

Before you could ask what he was trying to do, Jungkook moved his hand back to your center, two of his fingers playing with your clit. You gasped at the sensation, eyes closing as you kept riding him, rolling your hips, feeling as he reached for every part of you. It was all becoming too much, the pleasure that decorated his features, the  delicious friction of his body against yours, the frail moans that dropped from his tongue like honey. He was just too much. 

With a faint call of his name — a melody that would be stuck in his head forever —, you finally crossed the threshold of your orgasm, and came around him; morphing into a trembling and moaning mess. Jungkook watched, in absolute awe, as your face was monopolized by bliss, your teeth sinking down on your bottom lip and your eyes rolling back. 

He removed his hand from your heat, placing it on your waist. Using every final ounce of energy in your body, you continued riding him. Through parted lids, you noticed that his thighs were starting to shake, signaling that he, too, was close. “Baby,” the boy called out, his fingers digging to the sides of your hips. Jungkook was both trying to guide your movements, and hold himself back to reality. It was a beautiful view — the way his expression lingered somewhere between delight and distress; his hips mindlessly trusting up against yours. “I think I’m gonna cum.” 

You breathed out through your nose, trying to ignore the pleasure that, now, was turning into sensitivity. It felt good, in a way, but you were more focused on his relief at that point. “It’s okay, Kookie,” you told him, “you can let go.”

He had been so polite the entire time, with his “please” and “thank you’s. So, of course, when you told him that it was okay for him to cum, he did just as you requested. 

Jungkook came with gasping breaths and a trembling, high-pitched moan, holding on to you as he thrusted his last sloppy advances towards your core. His hands, weak, fell on the bed besides him, clenching the sheets; eyelashes fluttering down as he dwelled on the afterglow of his pleasure. You could stay there forever, looking at the pink shade that colored his cheeks; the beautiful mess that his black hair had turned into; or the tears of relief that accumulated at the corner of his eyes. 

But everything has to end, even the most beautiful ones. 

His tongue came out to wet his lips, and his eyes, still hooded, met yours. Not even the biggest minds in the renaissance could’ve thought of an image so perfect, so ethereal. “You’re so amazing,” he praised. “That was… amazing.” 

You smiled and leaned in to place a soft kiss against his lips. His member slipped out of you at the action, and his arms curled around your waist, keeping you in place. “You did pretty well,” you mumbled as you lazily curled up against his chest. Jungkook’s body was a delicious source of heat, and you could really get used to that. “I see a bright future ahead of you.”

He hummed, caressing your hair. Jungkook could finally smell it without being creepy, so that was a big victory for him. “You did most of the work,” he said. 

“That’s not an issue.” You nuzzled his neck, pleasantly feeling as goosebumps spread throughout his body. Always so responsive. “I’ll let you take the lead next time, if that sounds good to you.”

Jungkook chuckled. “That’d be great, yeah,” he agreed. Part of him thought about using a few tricks he learned during his late-night research, but he wasn’t super sure that it would be a good idea. Maybe he should keep that card up his sleeve for a bit longer in case he needed to surprise you later. “Do you want to spend the night? It’s kind of late to go back to your place now.”

The words fell from his tongue with ease, surprising the boy for an instant. He noticed that he was much more comfortable in your presence, like the pieces of the puzzle had finally fallen into place. Not because of the sex itself, he realized, but because of the vulnerability and intimacy that came with it. It happened just as it was supposed to. 

 “I’d love to.” You smiled, and placed a kiss against his neck. “But I’m going to kick you out if you start snoring.” 

“Out of my own place?” He asked. 

You sighed, voice filled by traces of your upcoming slumber. “Don’t you test me,” you spoke, wrapping your arms around him. “Medical school is killing me, I need some sleep. And I will get it no matter the price.” 

Jungkook laughed at your tired words, one of his hands caressing your head in infinite delicacy. As he held to your body, curling so perfectly against his own, he knew that everything would be okay. And maybe he needed a good night of sleep too. 

A few minutes later, as he started to feel the sensation of his consciousness slowly drifting away to the land of dreams, a bittersweet sentiment overtook his chest. There was an instant, even if ephemeral, in which Jungkook believed he would never see Yoongi and Taehyung again — after all, the two had already concluded their mission: Jungkook got the girl and there was nothing else left for them to do. In between two consecutive breaths, he felt both relief and solitude. Silence wasn’t as welcoming once he realized no voice could break it. 

Though, his melodramatic moment was short-lived. Behind him, a known timbre cheered for him:

“I’m so proud, I feel like a soccer mom.”

[katsukikitten]

A harem collab in which we go to a party with our v precious hero 18+ Smut boooiiii

Sitting across from him never did get easier. As much as you told yourself it would. 

If anything it got harder and harder to share the same room as him, let alone air. 

But you were lucky enough, or unlucky enough, to join the agency when you did and to be partnered with your big time crush FatGum. Although you idolized him you were sure he didn't remember you. 

And how could he? He saved countless people a day so it should be no surprise that he had no idea who you were on your first day. Still, it stung. 

And it shouldn't still sting or come to a surprise when he sets down a flyer on your desk. A huge smile on his chubby cheeks as he taps the sheet of paper.

"Can you believe it?! The agency is throwing a new year's eve party!" He practically gushes, lingering by your desk with his intoxicating smile. He rummages in his brown bag, setting breakfast onto your desk careful to avoid getting grease stains on the flyer as if you'd hang it up one day instead of shoving it into the trash. 

"They have one every year." You shrug, thanking him for the breakfast but tossing the paper into the trash can. His smile never waivers as he pulls it from the fresh bin, returning it to the smooth wooden top. 

"Yea but not at a fancy hotel and never an open bar! We should go!" His eyes crinkle in the corners and your heart hammers in your chest. 

Little do you know he prays to the Gods you don't say no. 

"I dont know, it's such short notice. Like next week ain't it?." At least it wasn't a no. He smiles, thinking of your competative behavior. 

"Oh I see what it is." He takes the sheet from your desk, waltzing to his own, "You're scared."

"Tch, scared of what?" You hiss, snatching for the paper. 

"Scared I'll out drink you!" He laughs at your cute scowl as you size him up. His metabolism was insane, and with him being in his larger state you might not be able to win. 

But he didn't have to know that. 

"You fucking wish you could out drink me! Remember the last party we went to? You showed your age and could barely stand!"

"Oi! I was much thinner then. I think luck is on my side this time." He slaps his belly and you smile. A genuine laugh fills the room causing Taishiro's heart to clench. 

"Yea, yea." You wipe away a tear, "We'll see." 

The day drags on and on, turning into a week of you glancing his way. Making sure he wasn't gaining any extra weight as he brought you your normal breakfast daily. 

It wasn't until the day of the party did you gain the advantage, a fight almost turned wrong and Taishiro had to use majority of that stored fat for a deadly punch to stop the villain from terrorizing the city. 

Still you'd never want this type of advantage just for a stupid drinking contest. Although he was not at his largest, he still had a considerable "dad bod" going on. 

"I still can't believe they had a tux in this size so late!" Taishiro shouts into the locker room at the agency, adjusting his tie as he waits for you. Meanwhile nerves eat you alive as you stare into your reflection, wondering if this dress fit okay, smoothing the fabric over your stomach self consciously. 

"You okay in there? We're gonna be late." He calls softly, hoping you aren't having second thoughts about going with someone like him. 

"Coming!" You call back, glancing at your deep amber dress a final time before rushing into the hall. 

"I was just thinking you were going to forfeit and then I-" Words die in his throat and he drinks you in. Beautifully complimented by the shape and color of your dress as he mouth hangs agape. 

"Wow. You look…" 

"Tai, I know, I look...different." 

"Amazing, perfect, breathtaking." He gives you a pointed look, "Which is no different than how you normally look." 

Heat creeps up the back of your neck and you're thankful he misses your flustered expression. The walk to the hotel and the brisk cold air gives you time to not only cool off but think.

Really reflect on the year, this horribly rotten, all bad luck year. Reminding you of all the times you had failed but also reminding you of all the opportunities you had missed. And not opportunities in the sense of promotions or saving people but opportunities to get closer with a certain somebody. 

You glance up at him and he glances down at you, smiling in a way that sets your skin on fire and yet it makes you feel at ease. 

Slowly you were coming to hate it. 

"I'm excited that they decided to invite some smaller agencies. Means I can introduce you to some of the kids I interned. Well I guess they are adults now huh." He looks nostalgic, sad even as he stares into space. Opening the door to the large hotel and it the look sticks with him until he is just before the party doors. 

"Ready?" 

"As ready as I'll ever be." You huff as he places his hand on the small of your back, bringing you into the rented ballroom. Lights and sounds consume your sense as music dances around light conversation. You're beginning to wonder if a drinking contest was such a good idea that is before you see the CEO of your agency totally shit faced. You glanced down at your watch, it was only 8pm. 

Taishiro guides you around the room with a "starter" drink, introducing you to old and new faces. Beaming with pride as he introduces you as his partner and not his sidekick like other heroes had done in the past. You hated how much your heart raced. 

"And this is Kirishima! He was one of my best and most memorable! Kids got guts and heart in spades!" He slaps Kirishima on the back and the young man slumps forward with a sharp toothed smile. 

"Aw come on, I wasn't that great…" He scratches the back of his head. 

"I heard that's when you became 'unbreakable'! I think that's so cool!" You gush over the young hero complimenting him to no end. 

"Stop. You'll give me a big head." He smiles, blushing furiously before his eyes wander to the closeness of the two of you and then they settle on your drinks, "You're not trying to out drink the infamous FatGum are you?" 

You laugh loudly before leaning in close as if to share a secret. 

"Oh, yes and I plan to kick his ass." 

Kirishima returns your smile and stage whispers 

"Taishiro-sama has lost a good bit of weight. I believe in you!" He winks before someone across the room calls for him, "Call me when you get really started!!" 

Two hours pass and you find yourself sitting across from your partner with his sleeves rolled up. Showcasing those deadly forearms as he slams back another shot. Kirishima keeps tally on hotel stationary and announces the number of shots. 

"You'll have to take five to be in the lead! You'll have two minutes to decide to forfeit or-" But before he can finish you're grabbing for one of the prefilled shot glasses. 

"Kanpai!" You shout, slinging them down, ignoring how the room is spinning and how bright the light reflects off of the table full of empty shot glasses. 

Kirishima's eyes widen as you down an extra shot for good measure, tallying the booze count with worry.

"Fat hero." He says, almost gritting his teeth, "You'll have to take seven to be in the lead." 

The large hero leans on his forearms on the table, the alcohol he's had had mostly been processed and maybe your figured that out. That he was starting to lose his edge so he takes you up on the challenge knocking back the several shots as if they were water. You're eager to gulp down a few more praying it drowns out your feelings for the sexy man across from you, instead he lets his broad hand hover over the shot glasses. Silently giving you a reprieve and noticing just how much you're sweating, how blown your pupils are. 

"Let's give it a minute shall we?" He smiles as you drown in his golden eyes. Biting at your lower lip and with a defiant grip you swallow down a final shot.

"Your turn." You focus hard to make sure your words didn't slur, not wanting this feeling or night to end. He snorts, shaking his head wishing you acted out any other time than this. 

"I forfeit." He places his hands up and you glare at him as you wonder if he did it on purpose. Before you have the time to accuse the crowd erupts into a deafening cheer, the room lags as you try to place names with faces as they come close to congratulate you. As more and more people crowd you, the hotter the room feels. Politely you excuse yourself to an enclave balcony closing the doors tightly behind you as you gulp down air, desperate to cool off and douse the desire that burns hot in your belly seeping to your core. 

"Fuck." You rake your nails through your hair as a hit of icy air skates along your skin leaving goose flesh in its wake. A steady warmth comes from behind you, voice deep as he speaks softly. You can tell he's using the same tone he uses on victims, trying not to startle them with his size. 

Little did he know how much you loved how much bigger he was. A safe haven, protection embodied. 

"Ready to go home?"

"No I'm fine! Perfectly fine." He sucks his teeth at your stubborn reply, leaning in close with his hands in the pockets of his tux. 

"You look flushed...you seem out of it." 

"I'm totally of sound mind!" A bark to which he laughs, giving in to the liquid courage as his large hand tilts your chin towards him. Flirting with a line he swore he'd never cross. 

"Yea, if you're so sound of mind, would you let me do this?" He asks, leaning closer, lips almost brushing yours. Your breath mingles with his in little puffs of fog agaisnt the cool air and suddenly you're burning again. 

From the inside out.

His lips touch yours, gently, passive at first and if he's trying to fight against his urges. Slowly he breaks away, amber eyes glued to your mouth before he sighs. Hoping he didn't just fuck everything up. 

In an instant you're drawing him back to you, hands in his golden wheat hair and your fingers weave through the strands. Mouth opening and demanding more as his large hands grip onto your ribcage as if you'd float away. 

And maybe you would, you felt like you could. 

Frantically your hands demand more, exploring up his shirt, touching across his stomach and digging your nails down his back. His own hands follow suit, gripping at your ass and tits, memorizing every luscious curve until he is drunk off of you and you only. You moan into his mouth and with that he loses all restraint. 

Shoving you against the harsh brick building, fisting your hair to tilt your head for better access, exploring your mouth with his well skilled wet muscle. Hands trailing beneath your dress to find your dress, squeezing at your thick thighs and when you moan in approval he moves higher and higher still until his fingers brush against the damp fabric. This time it is his turn to groan as he presses his hardened cock against you, your hips move to grind against his large fingers. 

"Please Tai" It is soft, breathy, sending him into a frenzy as he gives you exactly what you want. Letting his fingers slip beneath the fabric to gather the slick between your folds, gently rubbing against your throbbing clit. You arch against his touch, exposing your neck to him, he leans over and bites. Placing kisses along your throat, making sure to be careful enough to avoid marks before his hazed brain causes him to speak. 

To confess. 

"Do you know how long I've wanted to do this?" He asks, plunging his fingers into your tight heat, stretching you as you mewl, "Ever since I first laid eyes on you. Kamisama you were perfect. And tonight. Fuck baby. Wearing my eye color for all to see. You want people to think you're mine?" 

"Yes, Taishiro. I want people to think I'm yours." You moan, fucking yourself on his fingers before he takes over. Setting a quick pace before he curls his thick fingers just right, in an instant you're creaming against his digits. Crying out as he overstimulates you before he covers your mouth with his broad hand, reminding you just how much he dwarfs you.  

It makes you cum again and again and he corners you against the wall. Cock twitching as he laps up your sinful faces with a gluttonous appetite. 

"Please Tai, pleeeasse." 

"What's wrong baby? My fingers not enough?" His cocky tone drives you mad and your hips buck against his touch before he withdraws from your heat. Panting he levels his gaze yo you. 

"Is this what you want?" Peppering you with kisses as if you could deny him and his godly hands.

"Don't make me beg Tai…" You rasp, he gives a devilish smile. 

"Then I won't." His hands slink up your dress, gathering it at your waist as on skillful finger pulls the overly damp underwear away from your soaking sex. He frees himself and you swallow, not realizing just how large he was, for a moment you worry you won't be able to take him. 

"I'll be gentle." He coos, easing himself in an inch at a time as your stretch around his thick cock. Pussy fluttering as it adjusts to his size, he gathers your legs to his sides, squeezing your hips to keep from rutting into you roughly. He pistons his hips slowly, watching your face contort as he angles himself just right. Sensual thrusts have your legs and pussy squeezing him so deliciously tight. Still he worries he's going to hurt you.

"You okay?" Alcohol lingers on his breath and you swallow him whole with a kiss. Moaning into his mouth softly as he rocks you into one of your most intense orgasms to date. It's a slow build, undeniably intoxicating as his steady pace hits your spongy soft spot and his pelvis rubs against your clit. The coil in your stomach snaps and your body clamps onto the behemoth of a man tightly, stars dot your vision as he continues to fuck you through it. 

"God you're so beautiful ya know? So responsive to my touch. Taking me so well baby." He purrs against your ear, "Makes me want to keep this pace all night." 

He keeps true to his promise, bringing you to new heights at the steadiest of paces, causing you to lose count of how many times you've cum on his length. Pussy attempting to milk him dry as he palm swallows your screams. He looks at your features, your makeup running from delirious tears, mouth fallen opened in a propetial O as your hair clings to your skin. 

"Kamisama you're like art." He kisses your quickened pulse, "Ready for me to fill you love? You're squeezing me so tight…" 

He groans and all you can think of his him and the searing pleasure that courses through your veins to settle in your over sensitive heat. His cock twitches and you want nothing more than to be stuffed full of the Fat Hero's fat cock and his cum.  But words are lost in your hoarse throat and all you can do is nod, moaning his name as if it were a prayer. It's all the encouragement he needs, quickening his pace as the crowd inside grows louder. Counting down from 10. 

It's all lost to you and his hips snap against you, the brick scraping against your shoulders as his grip on you becomes so tight you're sure you'll bruise. Your body hyper aware of every little sensation as you drown in pleasure and warm amber sun, he groans, painting your walls in hot ropes of cum, your vision spots as your body arches to meet him as your spams a final time while his lips crash to yours. 

All the while fireworks erupt over head, bringing in the new year on a literal high note. 

He huffs, sweating as he looks at you, still buried to the hilt. Swiping his thumb over your cheek and running mascara before he breathes out so gently. 

"Happy new year baby." 

[madcatdaderpydrawer-blog]

HI IM SCREAMING OVER PART 2- Oh my god that was so intense, Moon is literally a sobbing mess rn and is like genuinely terrified out of his mind- Everything about him screams trauma, and needing the shock restraints in the first place is obviously telling enough! Like he genuinely believes Freddy would do this with no hesitation- And he's so prideful, so hearing that little 'yes sir' squeaked out in the most submissive way possible- I am SCREAMING-

When you said the line about Moon having been put through the 8 or 9 setting before? I doubt it'd be very realistic but it made me wonder what the others (Sun included) would think if they ever saw ant footage from parts and service where that happened- Where he went through that shock training and then later when they just used it to keep him quiet and submissive, literally accepting no trace amount of arguing from him, especially with those level 8 or 9 shock settings- I'm literally vibrating now because of this lmao-

Oh ABSOLUTELY, that is a trauma response :D He tried to keep up acting fine until he felt that Freddy was actually being serious, and then couldn't hold up the act anymore. Him even addressing someone as "sir" is insanely strange, and yet another thing he got from dealing with the other employees. i mean Moon is always weirdly formal, stuff like calling Monty "Montgomery" (it took a while for him to stop referring to him as his full name lol) but the sir thing is more an instinct when he's scared as a sort of "Yes I am aware that you have far more power over me then I'd like, so I'll be complacent". So yes, essentially it's a way to seem "submissive" as well as the curling up thing. All to make him look smaller, it makes him look less intimidating which is usually what he aims for when dealing with very easily pissed off employees. He 100% thinks that Freddy will hurt him, but enfeiufe that is entirely a bluff he would never have the heart to hurt him.

God it would be a mess. Sun will end up seeing it in the following parts of the story, though, so you'll definitely be able to see infected Suns reaction to it! (Though it's not intentional, it's more just "Freddy has no idea how to work the restraints and forgot to turn back down the remote") But they don't often use that high of a setting on Moon, because it might genuinely damage him if they aren't careful. They only use it when he's ACTUALLY aggressive. (though the reasons he gets aggressive are kind of their fault most of the time- the reason most likely being him snapping and lashing out because damn, as patient as he is he still would lose his temper eventually)

God I'm really excited to write the next part honestly?? Because Sun is normally really playful and silly when infected, but then gets hit in the face with the realization that they aren't fucking around and his entire playful attitude just drops.

Just like;

Sun: Monty, the way you're talking makes it sound like you're holding my brother hostage or something!~

Monty: Well-

Sun: Monty.