#i wanna put him in the washing machine tbh…

[kikosuu]

i have not drawn my ocs in too long

[29121996]

i swept everybody clap

[daycourtofficial]

Falling in Love on the Fourth Floor - Part 3

Summary: Out of an act of desperation, you move in with a guy you kind of know who happens to have a really hot brother who lives next door.

(Part 1) (Part 2)(Part 4)

Author’s note: I’m a bit uncertain about this part tbh :/ on one hand I love it, on the other I’m not sure

It had been a few days since Azriel went with you to return the truck, and you hadn’t seen much of him or Cassian since. Cassian had told you they were both personal trainers at the same gym, and he even went so far as to put his schedule up on the fridge so you would know when he’d be gone.

Looking at the schedule, he had even left a sticky note telling you he had plans before work and that he wouldn’t be back all day.

Your day alone in the apartment didn’t go as well as you had hoped it would, your phone buzzing around noon, the name Dad lighting up your phone.

You sigh, letting it go to voicemail, and decide to call Feyre to avoid thinking about him. She picks up on the third ring, her voice chirping through the phone, “hello?”

“Hey Fey, do you wanna do something today? I don’t want to wallow all alone.”

She sighs over the phone, “I wish I could, but I’m walking into work right now. I can’t call out when they can see me walking in the doors.”

You sigh, “do you know if Mor’s free?”

You can hear some commotion from Feyre’s surroundings, like she’s walking into a building.

“Mor has that internship she just started, I think she’s busy getting things ready for that.”

A beat pauses before Feyre continues, “I gotta go, but I’ll call you when I get off, okay? We can do something tomorrow if you’re free.”

You smile, “can we go to that axe throwing place we’ve been talking about for ages?”

She laughs, “absolutely. I’ll even print out a photo of your dad and hang it up on the target. Okay, I really gotta go, but if you wanna text me you can. I’ll respond when I can. Love you!”

She waits for you to echo her sentiment before hanging up, leaving you alone again. You spend the day trying to distract yourself, finding anything you can to distance yourself from the loneliness you feel. You unpack a few boxes you hadn’t gotten to, and after being fully moved in, you pour yourself a glass of soda to commemorate the occasion.

You sip from your glass as you begin cleaning the apartment, organizing the pantry, cleaning out the fridge, hell you even strip Cassian’s bed and clean his sheets and comforter.

Once the place is clean, you run out to the store, picking up what you need to make your favorite meal. You unpack your groceries when you come back, pour yourself a glass of wine, and sigh in contentment at spending an evening alone cooking your favorite pasta dish. You are determined to salvage some part of today, even if it’s just with a nice dinner. You’re playing music from your phone, the sounds drowning out the notification of a voicemail from your father that you’ve been ignoring all day.

You sip your wine as you stir the pasta, however the blaring sound of an ad startles you, causing wine to go all over the front of your clothes. You sigh, looking to the ceiling for strength to not break down. You take some deep breaths before peeling off your wine soaked dress, opening the laundry door to throw it into the washing machine. You’re hopeful that getting it in immediately will help prevent a stain from setting in, but you still pour a little extra stain remover in.

Once you get the machine going, standing in your kitchen in your underwear, you decide to make the most of this. The day sucked. All day all you had wanted to do was hide under your covers, hide from the world. You took a deep breath and told yourself “I’m done hiding.”

Your favorite song starts playing, and knowing that Cassian won’t be home for several more hours, you dance. You jump around your apartment, whipping your head around, letting out the loose bun your hair was in for the day.

You skip around, the sounds of Super Trouper by ABBA drowning out the door opening until suddenly something stops your music. Turning around you find Rhys’s hand hovering over your phone, having just stopped the music, and Azriel, whose gaze is on you, soaking in every detail of your little show.

You blink a few times, trying to ensure this is not a nightmare, however you don’t snap back to reality until the timer goes off for the pasta. All three of you whip your heads towards the timer, it’s tone jarring all three of you back to the present.

You groan, starting to back away back to your room. “What are you guys doing here?” You exclaim, “but more importantly - please drain my pasta while I find pants.”

You slip into your room, finding a comfy pair of sweats and a crop top, coming back out to find Azriel draining your pasta into the colander.

“Well?” You ask, cutting up the chicken you had pan-fried earlier. Azriel won’t look you in the eye, a blush evident across his face as he’s turned in the opposite direction, facing away from you.

Rhysand doesn’t have the same affliction.

He smirks at you, “is this how Cassian gets greeted when he comes home? I must say I’d be more chipper coming home to that little show than to Azriel.”

Azriel does not respond to the jab. Instead, he picks up another knife, helping you cut. Rhys just stands behind you two, leaning against the fridge.

“Cassian most certainly does not get greeted by my bare ass when he comes home,” you respond indignantly. The two of you have finished chopping, so you motion for all the chicken and the pasta to go into the pan with the pesto sauce concoction you’ve made. Azriel helps you stir it, and once it’s evenly distributed, you two pop it into the oven.

“Well your ass wasn’t bare, it was slightly covered by your very cute-“

The task at hand done and a new timer set, you turn to face Rhys, cutting him off. “I spilled wine on my clothes and I didn’t want it to set and then I got carried away when Abba came on.”

He only smiles back, “got a hot date for dinner tonight?”

Azriel tenses ever so slightly, but you don’t think too much of it as you respond, “yeah word on the street is she has an incredible rack and a great ass.”

“Having seen them first hand I think the rumors are true.”

You roll your eyes, but decide you’re done with this game and want some sincerity.

“I had a shitty day and I just wanted my favorite meal.” You look down, crossing your arms. You don’t like being vulnerable, especially around people you just met. You think about Cassian, and how much he loves the two guys in front of you. Maybe you can take a leap, and perhaps they’ll catch you.

“I’d actually enjoy the company if you guys want to stay. I made plenty of pasta to wallow in so I think there’s enough to go around.”

Your eyes stay on the ground as you move your hands up and down your arms, a nervous movement. You watch as Azriel’s foot comes into view, standing in front of you as he gently taps his foot against yours, a silent request to look at him. “I love pasta,” he tells you, looking into your eyes. You’re struck by the absence of pity in them, and how they are full of sincerity, of kindness.

You look away from him when Rhys starts talking, “It’s decided. You got a two for one deal tonight - two hot dates for the evening.”

You smile, the thought of being alone almost overbearing, when you remember, “why did you guys come over here anyway?”

Azriel sheepishly looks away, clearly thinking about how they caught you half naked when they walked in the door. Rhys tells you, “we wanted to watch Forest Gump and we knew Cassian had it on Blu-ray.”

You nod, looking over at Cassian’s wall of dvds and blu-rays, which you had to admit was quite impressive. “I’ve never seen it - is it any good?”

When Cassian got off work from the gym, he thought he’d come home to a dark apartment, scrounging the fridge for any remnants of food. What he didn’t expect to find was his two brothers watching Forrest Gump, and seeing a tupperware container in the fridge with a sticky note with his name on it in Azriel’s neat script.

He walks in, Azriel shooting daggers at him. The audacity, Cassian thinks, watching a movie in my place and being annoyed that I’m here. That is until he comes close enough to notice your head in Azriel’s lap, a hand curled up on his thigh. His eyes linger on his brother’s hand that is slowly massaging your scalp, the hands he had always been so nervous and protective over. Cassian realizes he’s never seen his brother leave his hands to be so openly observed outside of his brothers.

He stares for a minute as your blanketed back slowly rises and falls, clearly asleep, before he turns, giving his brother a shit eating grin where they have a conversation without words. The conversation essentially boils down to Cassian’s eyebrows raising up and down, and Azriel’s continued scowl at Cassian’s inability to move through a room without making as much noise as possible.

Azriel doesn’t relax until Cassian is sitting on the other couch next to Rhys, tuning into the movie when Forrest is walking around Washington D.C.

“She didn’t even make it halfway through the movie,” Cassian whispers to Rhys.

“No,” Rhys replies, looking at you curled up on the couch, a soft smile on his face, “but she did ask us to stay for dinner.”

[multi-kpop-fanfics]

tw: perv neighbor!gyu, fem!reader, panty stealing, flirting, use of petnames, mentions of sexual activities (not actual sex happening), cursing, mingyu is kind of annoying tbh

part of the random perv!gyu drabbles

The lavender basket is stuffed with the wet clothes, freshly out of the washing machine, as you try your best to balance it on your hip, while opening the window to get out.

"Ugh, shit's so heavy..." you mutter begrudgingly, mentally scolding yourself for not doing laundry earlier.

You plop the basket down, starting to hang the wet clothes on the rack, until you notice that a piece of underwear is missing.

"What the hell?" you curse, searching around the rest of your clothes to find your favorite black lacy panties, but they are nowhere to be found.

Not within the limits of your apartment, at least.

Mingyu has been watching you struggle for the past few minutes from his balcony, a sly yet amused smile resting on his face while he sips on his coffee, fully aware of the cause of your current predicament.

He throws a t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants on, making his way to the door of your apartment, knocking once, twice and a third time until you're yelling 'coming!' from the other end of the door, opening it with a frown.

"Of all the things that could go wrong today, you decided to be the cherry on the cake" you run your hands over your face.

"And here I was, thinking about putting you out of your misery" Mingyu tuts with a sly expression.

"And how exactly do you think you can do that?"

"Starting from...these beauties right here" he takes out the same thing you've desperately been searching for, feeling your face heat up from embarrassment.

"Give it back!" you yell and stretch your arm to catch the panties, but of course Mingyu is way faster and way taller than you, so he merely pulls his arm away with a small giggle.

"You know, I really enjoy putting you into your misery and out of it.....But I mostly enjoy putting you out of your clothes" he leans in.

"And I would really enjoy punching you in the face right now, Kim"

"Wanna try that with your pussy? I'd loooove to see it happen"

"You're gross"

"You love me like that, baby"

He got you there.

"Did you just come over to flex your panty stealing skills?"

"I was thinking about returning them to you, actually - but my washing machine is broken so I had to bring them back the way you left them-"

"You mean the way you stole them-"

"Either way, they still have my cum on" he sing-songs and you almost hate how much he affects you because that definitely made your still sore pussy clench around emptiness.

"So....will you be the good neighbor and let me in, darling?"

"I would choose my words wiser if I was you, Mingyu" you retort, crossing your hands in front of your chest, the neckline of your shirt sliding down just enough to reveal some of the love bites he scattered across your shoulder last night.

"As if you don't know what I mean, sweetheart" he pushes your hair back to get a better look at the marks, running the pads of his fingers over the patch of skin.

"Careful, they're still fresh" you hiss, flesh still tender and rosy-purple colored.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to hurt you" Mingyu takes away his hand, rubbing his nape awkwardly, the atmosphere taking an uncomfortable turn.

"I mean, as long as you don't hurt my feelings....I don't mind a little bit of pain" you mimic his usually teasing tone and you notice how the same naughty glint returns in his dark chocolate orbs, the tip of his tongue poking his cheek.

You step aside, arms still crossed in front of you, waiting for him to take the hint and step into your apartment, but it seems like he isn't always a smartass.

"So....are you coming in or not, Gyu?"

[trickstarbrave]

Today I did a little drawing and coloring, a bit of writing on moon and star, and I cleaned up the depression nest around my bed that got rly bad (don’t wanna talk abt it. It was a mix of mental illness and bad physical health since this time last year. Lmao.) all that’s rly left in my room to be clean is me going thru my clothes, donating any I don’t rly like anymore and can’t fit into, washing and putting stuff away, and stuff. I probably have a bunch that need altering too tbh but that’ll have to wait until the sewing machine is moved

So I’m feeling pretty great. Hopefully I’ll be able to fall asleep bc I have work but my wife is coming to visit this week :)))))

Funny part of moon and star is they met some Dwemer who only rly trust house Dagoth and they’re looking at Nerevar like “why are you with him. Who is he” and Voryn tries to explain it before lying and saying Nerevar is engaged to him so it’s fine. Nerevar does not know Voryn said this bc it was in dwemeris

[rabbitsrams]

laundromat -- mikasacus x reader

i have a huge crush on mika (have for a while tbh) and ever since he mentioned the intimacy of being at the laundromat together in the newest ep of music posting, i had to write this. mika ily <3

just fluffiest of fluff <3

wc: 844

laundry day was upon you, and it was something you often dreaded.

because you didn't have a car, you have to lug your big bag of clothing for fifteen minutes to the laundromat right by your apartment building. it was if you were santa claus with his gigantic sack of toys sans sleigh. but it is what it is.

you go every other saturday right when the laundromat opens its doors (7 a.m.), a time when no one else is there. you always have the machines to yourself and you like being able to have some alone time in the early hours of the day.

one of the owners, june, a sweet old lady who's been there for at least fifty years, holds the door open for you as you roll your laundry bag inside.

"g'morning june..." you yawn.

"morning dear, want coffee?" she says, walking over to the counter. a pot of coffee is steaming with your usual mug right beside it.

"yes please, thank you." you roll your laundry bag to your designated machine before going to the counter to prepare your usual cup.

with your headphones in and playing the first song of some album you've been vying to listen to, you begin to load your clothes into two of the machines. once the cycles begin, you turn the volume up and bob your head to the beat, liking the sound of the song.

unbeknownst to you, someone else enters the laundromat. he's got a basket of laundry in his arms, headphones over his ears and a black mask over most of his face. a white cap covers most of his dark hair, but some of it curls out underneath the hat. he notices you by the machines before going to the front counter. june immediately goes to help him.

you can sort of hear june talking over your music. figuring she's on the phone with her grandson as she normally is, you pay it no mind. you start humming the notes to a familiar song on the album as you move your clothes to the dryer, unaware that the guy is loading his clothing into the washing machine to your left.

you turn to get your second load, jumping in surprise at the presence of the tall man. your phone clatters to the ground, your headphones disconnecting from the charger port and playing the song you were listening to. "oh christ, i'm so sorry." you mutter as you pick the phone up and pause the song.

"you're totally good, don't worry," he replies. his voice is deep and calming, and his aura seems very calming. "was that tyler the creator?"

"oh! yeah. i'm, um, listening to igor right now. i usually like to listen to an album or two while i'm here. new to me, usually." you chuckle softly, a soft blush coating your cheeks.

"oh, cool! tyler's one of my favorite artists, you'll love igor."

"i really do so far, i'm actually on, uh, puppet, right now."

"that's a good one," he nods. his eyes crinkle slightly as he smiles under the mask. "i'm alex, by the way."

"y/n."

after you finish putting the rest of your clothes into the dryer, you and alex talk for a bit. you find out he's new in town, actually having just moved into your apartment complex, last week. he tells you about the new job he's going to start that upcoming monday, and about his other creative endeavors. you tell him about your life as well, and he listens earnestly.

"hey, um, do you wanna listen to the rest of the album with me? we can share my headphones or something..." you take out one of your earbuds and wipe it with your sleeve before offering it to him.

"oh... yeah, sure!" he takes the bud and places it in his ear. he has to lean down and move closer to you so his bud won't fall out. you try not to practically swoon because of how close you are to him.

you start the song over and he immediately starts tapping his foot to the beat. you can tell he's listened to the album a lot before with how excited he is to talk about the tracks. and it's not just because his eyes sparkle and look really pretty when he's excited.

you end up staying for an extra hour. your laundry is all done but alex's isn't, and you don't want to pass up the opportunity to talk to him more.

he's so easy to talk to, such a kind and sweet person. he offers to drive you both back to your apartment building so you won't have to carry your laundry all the way back.

in the car you end up giving him some song recommendations from your favorite artists. and when you're in the elevator, you exchange phone numbers. he gets off a floor below you and you exchange silent goodbyes. the elevator barely goes up when your phone dings softly with a message from 'alex🧡'

[microsuedemouse]

things that happened at work tonight

I had to do an employee satisfaction survey and I was as mean as it’s possible to be in a survey where nearly all the questions are statements where all you can do is choose from strongly agree/agree/neutral/disagree/strongly disagree. you may not have given me space to air my actual grievances, but I sure will make my level of frustration known

I called a mischievous little girl, no older than four at the most, a monkey, after she reached up and tapped the help button on the machine (which calls me over) while her dad wasn’t looking. with an enormous grin on her face, she spent the next several minutes softly repeating “I’m a monkey… a MONKEY” to herself while she waited for her dad to finish checking out.

our loss prevention manager had to kick a lady out of the store after someone saw her pick up a packaged meal at the deli, open it and eat several bites, and then put it back. the lady apparently made a huge fuss and security had to be called? I don’t think we have an actual security guard so I don’t know who that would be. a mystery

I watched a guide dog in training simply Give Up. his trainers were taking a few minutes at the self-checkout machine and he just collapsed on his side on the floor and gave them Sad Eyes when they started giggling at him. to his credit, he got up and was very well-behaved as soon as they gave him an actual command! but clearly he was pretty tired lol.

I listened to a couple of college-aged, musclehead-lookin’ dudes still in their workout clothes (we have a 24hr gym next door) snipe at each other while they checked out - one complaining to the other “why didn’t you put this in a produce bag, I don’t wanna put my zucchini right on the scale, it’s gross. dude you’re gross” and the other answering “bro we’re gonna wash it before we eat it, relax. dude look at you, you can’t even SPELL zucchini” which was fun. also they were lamenting the prices and cursing G*len W*ston’s name and griping “yeah right it’s ‘inflation,’ come on, we’ve all heard about the profit margins…” also also, they started grilling me about the lady who got kicked out in bullet point three, because they came into the store just in time to hear her being yelled at and desperately wanted to know all the juicy details lmao. unfortunately I knew very few details myself at that time

the LP manager went rocketing past me at one point and I looked up to see her chasing a couple of kids out the door and into the parking lot. ten minutes later, I was approached by a kid maybe 12 or 13 years old, red-faced and damp-eyed and evidently uncomfortable, with an armful of deli items. “my friends just stole these,” he explained to me. “a blonde lady chased them out?” I called the aforementioned LP manager and she hurried out to see him. he was quick to tell her - “it wasn’t me, it was my friends, but I got really really mad at them, and I wanted to bring this stuff back…” she thanked him very much for doing so, and as soon as he was out of sight we both melted.

and honestly, I don’t give a shit about people shoplifting, in the broad sense. obviously it’s a pain to me as an employee, but beyond any effect on me personally… the company can more than afford it. (although I’m not super impressed with kids doing it just for shits. it’s one thing if you’re broke; it’s kind of another if you’re 13 and just trying to be cool.) but we spent the rest of the night talking amongst ourselves about how impressed we all were with this kid for (at his age!) having the courage not only to take a stand against his friends when he felt that what they were doing was wrong, but also to take the stuff they’d stolen back and bring it back to the store in spite of the genuine possibility that he could then get in trouble himself.

like, having spoken to him, I could tell he was RATTLED. with the context it was pretty clear to me that he’d just given his buddies a good lashing. and tbh, huge props to him for that. being able to tell your friends off for being assholes is tough at any age; at 12-13 it’s fucking herculean. so. I’ll be thinking about him for a bit.

oh oh also. one of my recent favourite customers got really excited and offered me a fist bump when I remembered her name. (she’s insanely sweet and always remembers MY name so I made a point of it! but it was really cute how happy she was about it)

[frenziedslashers]

What positions do you think are the slasher's (particularly Thomas and Lester) favorite positions would be and why?

ahh thank you so much for this ask! I am doing my best since I tbh don't know a lot of positions or their names so be patient 💀

Warnings: Mentions of different sex positions, face sitting, gender neutral, Bubba is gender fluid, light mentions of choking and knife play, light mentions of bondage, swearing, I think that's it.

Slashers and their favorite position(s) with their S/O(NSFT):

Thomas Hewitt:

Missionary. He is very into the intimate positions, and this one has to be one of his favorites. It allows him to keep eye contact and watch your expressions. Plus he can feel your body a lot better from this position. He also finds it traditional, and that adds to the intimacy of it for him. A bonus is he gets to kiss you a lot in this position.

Cowgirl. Save a horse, ride a cowboy Tommy. If you ride him he'll simply pass away. He loves it so much. He's very much into visuals, and this visual is outstanding for him. Not only does he love the views, but the ability to touch you, and allow you to take care of him. He could die this way, honestly. He would have zero complaints.

I don't know the name for this one. He'd enjoy putting your legs over his shoulders while he has sex with you. Not only does it give you another angle, that you seem to enjoy. But he feels like he's able to go deeper within you. Plus, this man has a breeding kink and would love this position since he feels like it fills you full easier, and keeps you full until he lays you back down. Even if he is cumming into a condom, or you're on the pill/can't get pregnant, it's the thought that keeps him going.

Over the counter. If he's in a wild mood, and you do something to tease him in the basement and he's sure the two of you won't get caught. He isn't opposed to bending you over the counter so he can pound into you. He goes extra crazy when you reach back and touch his thighs or arms. And if you hold his hand he's swooning.

Bubba Sawyer:

Missionary. Like Thomas they would be really into the intamacy from missionary, plus the traditionalism to it. I think they'd enjoy being able to keep eye contact with you, and the ability to hold sweet kisses with you. Plus their hands can wander and feel your soft skin in contrast to their own.

Cowgirl. Again... RIDE THEM. They will be an absolute babbling mess underneath you. Especially if this is your first sexual experience, they might prefer it even. Since they do know they're rather strong and they don't wanna hurt you. So this is ideal for the both of you. It allows you to set the pace, plus then they kind of have a better idea on how to treat your body when they top the next time. Plus they love being able to hold your thighs while they watch you bounce up and down on them. And do not fret, if you get tired they'll grab your hips and help you out.

OG Michael Myers:

I don't know the name for this one. He'd be into standing in front of the bed, with your hips in his hand while he fucks into you. Something about towering over you in such a vulnerable position really gets him going. Plus, watching your body inch further away from the end of the bed with each thrust, before he's pulling you back to the end of the bed is exhillerating to him.

Over the counter - or any surface, really. Whether you be on your stomach or on your back he doesn't mind. He just loves fucking you on surfaces that aren't meant to be fucked on. Like the counter top when you go to get a glass of water, or the washing machine when he catches you doing laundry. He's not picky.

I don't know the name for this one. He enjoys having your back against his body while you're kneeling on the end of the bed. He's slid between your legs pounding up into you with his hand around your throat. If you're up to it, his other hand might even have his knife dragging over your bare skin. If not his hand just has a death grip on your thigh.

Doggy Style. He loves this position because then he's able to shove you down into the mattress. It gives him the dominance he craves. The ability to pull you up by your hair or chest so you're snug up against his chest. Or to just push you further into the matress while he screws you silly.

RZ Michael Myers:

Stradling. He wouldn't be into it at first, you would definitely have to warm up to him with the idea, but he winds up loving it. He enjoys having you on his lap while the two of you are on the couch watching TV. Whether you ba facing him ot the TV is up to you. You start grinding, and his grip tightens, and soon his hands are ripping your pants/skirt/shorts/whatever you're wearing away so he can slip himself inside of you. He likes this better than cowgirl though because if you try and tease him with slow movements he can position his feet, grab your hips, and set the pace for you.

Over anything. Like OG Michael he likes fucking you on surfaces not meant to be fucked on. He especially loves countertops and desks. You both may have broken a few desks because of this. It's kind of his first resort when the two of you first have sex, since it was messy and an in-this-moment type deal.

Spooning. When the two of you are further in the relationship, he warms up and leans a bit more away from the rougher sex to the more tender stuff(though it's considered tender by him, you'd beg to differ 90% of the time). He likes slipping behind you while you're layng on your side, hands feeling you up, preventing you from turning to face him so he can start grinding up into you until you get the idea. Or he tells you what he wants and waits for you to agree. He likes being able to hold you without you being able to see his face, able to burry his face in the back of your head/neck while he has sex with you.

Lester Sinclair:

Face Sitting. Please, sit on his face. He'd be pretty open to asking you too. He ain't beating around the bush, and he doesn't care about your side, because damnit, he loves it. He enjoys being drowned by everything you. Your flesh, scent, your hands tugging at his hair. The ability to look up and lock eyes with you. He loves all of this.

Cowgirl. Fuck, he's a whore for you taking care of him, so this is one of his favorites. Absolutely loves it when you praise him in this position too, he's a whimpering mess while he paws at your body and begs for you to move faster.

Straddling. He's a fan of this since he'll have you go with him when he goes out driving. So if the two of you get a little hot and heavy you can just slip into his lap, and he's lovin' it.

Missionary. He's kind of simple like this and enjoys it. It may not be too interesting, but if you bring up bringing something into it he's willing to try it out. Whether it be bondage, or knife play. He does love just plain Missionary though since he likes the intimacy of it. He's a whore for intamacy and you cannot change my mind on that.

If he's feeling a bit wild, he enjoys bending you over things. It could be anything, back of his couch, the table, his tailgate, anything. He just loves being able to push you down and take control every so often. He's a Big SwitchTM.

Bo Sinclair:

Knees to Chest. Something about it he just loves. Bending you in half to not only reach that perfect angle for you, but the perfect view for him. Plus he can hold and squeeze your thighs, and he loves the bruises he leaves behind from just that, alone.

Anything with bondage. I really think he has a big bondage thing goin' on. He would like tying you up and having his way with you. And, if he really feels comfortable and you ask nicely, he might even let you tie him up. Though it would take a lot of pleading, and maybe even a deal of sorts.

Blowjobs. I don't know if this counts as a position, but I really feel like he's into them. Especially if they're in public. He's in his shop, and you drop to your knees. He shoots you a glance, but you know he's not gonna tell you to stop. He's definitely making it up to you later.

Wall sex. He loves shoving you up against the wall and taking you there. He likes the control he feels from it. This is also a big go to for him when hate fucking. The feel of having you cornered while he fucks you makes him feel like he won whatever you two were fighting about.

Vincent Sinclair:

Cowgirl. Like his baby brother, he's very much into you taking control, and taking care of him. He loves watching your body bounce on his cock while your hands rest on his thighs or his chest. Plus the ability to touch you in this position. He loves it. Also the fact you can lean down and smother him in kisses. He feels very loved in this position.

Head between your thighs. He loves giving you oral a LOT. He enjoys you lying on your back while he takes care of you since he feels like the both of you are more relaxed, and then you don't worry about hurting him if you sit on his face - which he doesn't really care anyways. You could crush him, he wouldn't complain. He'd like this position though because after he makes you cum until you're shoving his face away from overstim he can easily climb up and cover your body in kisses and love bites.

I don't know the name of this one. He likes hooking your legs over his shoulders, too. Whether it be one or both of them. He likes the view of your body and the faces you make when he hits your G-spot.

Brahms Heelshire:

Missionary. He likes the simplicity of this, plus he can get all the kisses he wants and cover you with marks from his mouth. Plus, as a tit guy, he can suck on your chest while he fucks you. Not only that, but if he's tired right after he can just lay on you and hold you in his arms. He might not even pull out right away.

Cowgirl. This man loves being taken care of. So you ontop of him?? He's deceased. Someone call a doctor. He's got his hands everywhere on you while you're riding him though. One hand between your legs so he can watch your expressions and hear your noises. Reaching up to squeeze your chest, letting them fall to your thighs. He loves it.

Straddling. If you sit on his lap at all he's automatically gonna expect something out of it. Especially if you grind your hips, even accidentally. He likes this position though because he can rest inside you while you read to him, and move to throw you off and lose your spot, like the little shit he is.

[extravaguk]

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

wordcount: 15k

genre: summer!au, ex high school classmaters, kinda frenemies to lovers, tattoo artist!&piercing artist!jungkook, popular!reader

rated: m (fluff - smut - angst)

warnings: you broke jungkook's heart you bitch!! , oral sex (m&f), protected sex (shocking tbh), CL as your bestie it doesnt get better than that! idk i dont wanna spoil too much

author's note: fucking finally dude!! i've been writing this since february but school was kicking my ass. now that i finished my exams and mercury is in gemini i was able to finish it. if you read this, i hope you enjoy it!

Inkphoria

You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping the flyer too tightly, rumpling the paper in your hand until you're pretty much sure it's ruined. It's the first day of June, and it's already too hot. The sun and humid weather are causing beads of sweat to form in your hairline and your white tank top to stick to your skin. Your jean shorts didn't feel this uncomfortable a few hours ago and you're sure the heat is causing your mascara to transfer to your eyelids and lower lashline. You've never needed a slushie and a smoke this bad in forever, even if you knew the later would make your parents lose their shit.

Inkphoria

You read it again. Your brain is trying to guess what font its written in, an excuse to try to steady your heart beat until your nerves ease a little and you can finally gather the courage to step into the damn shop. You've noticed a few people passing by giving you strange looks because maybe it hasn't been fifteen minutes. Perhaps you've been unmoving like an idiot in the middle of the street for longer than you want to admit.

Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.

'Its not that much of a big deal. It's not even that painful, trust me.'

You wish you could trust your best friend, but your best friend is also the same woman who assured you Cats was the movie of the year. Yes, not 'Cats: The Musical'. 'Cats', the movie.

'And this could be a great start to get out of your comfort zone and start living your life exactly the way you want to, not the way people expect you to. Not the way your family wants you to, not the way Adam wanted you to.'

But although her credibility could sometimes be questionable - like that time she also told you she'd tried marmite and 'honestly, it's not as bad as people make it out to be'-, you also didn't trust anybody in this world as much as you trusted her. She had always been your entire support system, the only one around you who never sugarcoated, who always treated you as an equal, who was always there for you to help you discover yourself and, at the same time, remind you of who you were.

'And it's gonna look so hot, too.'

That's it. Sticking the wrinkled flyer on your back pocket, your feet finally start moving. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing open the door.

The first thing you notice is that, thankfully, the shop is empty. The second thing you notice is the bright sky blue walls, a green undertone peaking through. Your eyes scan nervously the interior. Frames with tattoo designs and people modeling other different designs decorate the walls, some skateboards also hanging from the ceiling. A few plants in the corner, and two leather couches on either side of the room. Your scanning stops on the counter, where a girl with short, platinium hair and -what you guess is- the eighty percent of her body inked. Face included. She's been looking at you, a smirk tugging at her lips. Her tone is amused when she speaks

"Hi." she says. "You can come closer, you know? We don't bite."

Great. As if you couldn't feel more out of place, apparently you also couldn't look more out of place.

"Sorry." you gulp as you walk forward. "It's my first time doing anything like this."

She laughs this time, but it's not mean. It's not mocking, thank God, and the smile she sends you is as warm as the weather, friendly, luckily helping you calm down a bit. "A virgin, huh? JK's gonna love this." your eyes jump in surprise, but she's fast to wave her hands in front of you. "Just a joke. So, first time getting a tattoo. You have something in mind, honey?"

"Um, no. Not a tattoo. Not yet, I think." you wet your lips, regretting not reaplying chapstick before stepping inside. "A piercing."

"Oh! Cool!" she claps her hands, too excited for your own taste, pulling from under the counter a catalogue. "So, where will it be? Cartilogue? Nose? A lot of people are getting their septums pierced right now, though, so you might-"

"Nipples. Like, one of them."

Her gaze finds yours in surprise, although her face swiftly transforms again into an amiable expression. "Now, that's badass. Alright!" she skims through the pages of the catalogue until she finds the nipple piercing collection. You scratch your head before wiping your forehead sweat-free. "You can pick either barbells or hoops, although barbells heal faster and they don't move around as much. There's different kinds of metal, too. Gold or platinium. If your skin is sensitive, I recommend titanium. It's hypoallergenic and not as problematic."

The blonde keeps talking as you nod your head, a smile making its way into your face while silently thanking her for her easygoing personality. It quickly makes you feel comfortable and stupid for being so terrified of doing this.

Once you decide, settle on the cost and sign the papers, she stands up from the stool she'd been sitting on. "Ok, I'll go tell my coworker. He's been sketching tattoos all morning, it's time he gets to work!" she laughs, but suddenly your smile banishes and your throat shuts down.

"He?" your alarmed tone halts her motions and she looks back at your frightened expression.

He? A he is going to pierce your nipple? You're about to let a random stranger, a HE, see and touch one of your boobs and then pierce a needle through one of your nipples?

"Oh, baby, don't worry. I'd do it myself if I knew how to, but I only do tattoos. Most of our staff are on summer vacation so it's mostly just him and I. If you don't feel comfortable, which is totally understandable, you can wait until september when Minzy comes back and she can do it for you." It's her turn to scratch the back of her head as she adds: "but trust me, we're professionals. He's not a creep or anything like that. He's been doing this for a long time. He won't cross any boundaries."

September? You won't even be here in september. Fuck.

Sure, you could do it when you move back into the city. But this summer was supossed to be the summer. You already decided after your breakup with Adam that there would be no trace of the old you. That it was time to push yourself, to do the things that you've always wanted to do, unapologetically. To find the new you, the real you. To stop being scared.

So after going through you options for a few seconds and taking a deep breath, you make up your mind.

"It's fine. I can do it."

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"JK, sweetheart!"

Jungkook is finishing drawing a Chinese dragon when Mijoo opens the door without knocking. Again. He puts the pen down, rubbing his eyes. It's monday, a slow monday, not much work, and he had hoped it would stay that way until closing time. It's summer and Jungkook hates summer. He hates the heat, he hates being drenched in sweat, and he hates the fact that he can do nothing about it. Because working in the summer is terrible. Summer makes him lazy, makes him want to bathe in a tub full of iced water and not get out until he turns into a raisin and october comes. It makes him irritable. Summer makes him annoyed by people -like Mijoo, even if he loves her to death- and himself.

"I got a girl here who wants a nipple piercing, her first piercing by the way, so get your shit ready and bla bla bla. Straight titanium barbell. Also, don't flirt and don't be creepy. She almost ran away when I told her a male was going to be touching and piercing her tit, be mindful of that. She's too cute, if you want to get her number you should wait until it's done. I think that's it. I'll bring her in in a minute."

Mijoo leaves as fast as she talks, but Jungkook is already used to it. He's already used to the headaches her mouth causes too. He sighs before standing up, tying his too-long raven hair into the best bun he can manage. He washes his hands, sets the table up, sits on the chair and puts the gloves on. He's too busy sterilizing the jewerly when Mijoo comes back with you.

"Alright, my babies. I'll leave you to it." she turns to you. "He'll explain everything, from how the process will be to how to take care of it after it's done." she leaves before saying bye, closing the door behind her, and then he finally turns to you.

Your eyes meet and suddenly everything stops. He almost drops the sterilizing machine, his whole body tensing, going into panic mode as he recognizes you immediatly. His hands shake.

Of course he does. Of course he recognizes his high school crush. The too goody two shoes, too pretentious and too rich, too good for everybody and, most importantly, 'too good for Jeon Jungkook' girl of his high school dreams. Of course he recognizes the girl he had confessed his stupid crush to when he was sixteen. Of course he recognizes the girl who rejected and broke his young and foolish heart when he was a dumb teenager.

It doesn't matter that six years have passed ever since. He still knows every lock of your hair like the palm of his hand. He still remembers the shape of your lips and the exact shade of your eyes. He can still identify the body he fantasized about -and jacked off to- when he was a hormonal teen, now filled in all the right places. Now a grown woman.

Just one look at you after years and years of pining is enough to almost make him faint. And grow a boner under his jeans.

And by the look on your face, your eyes wide and your mouth agape, you recognize him as well.

Dammit.

He schools his features and clears his throat. Forces his body to relax and compose himself, because he's not a teenager anymore. He's also a grown man, who has matured, who now has much more experience with women than he did back then. He had already embarrased himself enough when he was sixteen to be doing it all over again. You're just another attractive girl in a sea of attractive women.

He turns to you. You still haven't said anything. Neither has he.

"Um, you can sit on the table." he manages, motioning to the set up in front of him. He watches you taking doubtful steps until you're sitting down, your eyes avoiding his gaze. He almost forgot you were here to get pierced. Holy shit, you were here to get pierced. To get your nipple pierced.

You're a professional, Jungkook. You can do this, Jungkook. You've seen boobs before, Jungkook. You've pierced nipples before, Jungkook.

Clearing his throat again and forcing his hands to stay by his side, he speaks. "The... The top." your gaze finds his, like a puppy about to get scolded. You look at your top, realization dawning on you. "You don't have to take it off. You can just pull it down."

So you do, pulling the straps of the white tank top down and dragging the fabric down with trembling fingers. No bra. Jungkook gulps as your breasts comes into vision. As perfect as he had imagined years ago. His cock twitches. Round, full, perky and so damn inviting he has to hold himself back from latching onto one nipple with his mouth around it and swirling his tongue over the nub until you're a pretty, moaning, little mess on his piercing tabl-

He closes his eyes for just a second before reminding himself to act like the 23 year old Jungkook he's tried so hard to become. The confident, assured Jungkook he is.

"Okay, this is how it'll go. First I'll clean it and scrub it to get rid of any bacteria." he's so glad he hasn't stuttered yet. 23 year old Jungkook doesn't stutter like 17 year old Jungkook. He's also glad he can pick the alcohol bottle and the surgical scrub without trembling. When he faces you again, you're watching his motions with your lip caught between your teeth. That has him swallowing the lump in his throat.

Making eye contact with him again, you take a deep breath and offer a small nod, so he gets to work. He can show you and himself he's a grown man. A grown man who can pierce a nipple without appearing like it's the first time he's seen a boob in his life. The sooner he does it, the sooner it's over.

Jungkook wets the paper towel with alcohol before carefully wiping over your nub with it. Your back arches, probably from the cold feeling, he guesses. He rubs it a few times before throwing it in the trash can nearby. He avoids looking at how enticing the soft peak is salluting him when he reaches for the marker. He doesn't say anything when he dots it with it, jaw clenched and his dick painfully stiff.

"Lay back." his voice low as he commands, turning away to get the clamp. When he slides closer, he tries to ignore the view: you, with your hair sprawled and your sweaty, shiny skin and your eyes focused on the cieling, nipple fully erect, like the star of one of his most erotic dreams. He extends his free gloved hand before he can stop himself, fingers carefully working the nub until he's sure it's painfully hard. Almost as hard as he is.

You gasp, your back arching again. He stills and looks at you, your cheeks flushed pink. Probably from the heat, he guesses again. Or at least that's what he tells himself. He can't stop himself from wondering how responsive would you be in a different setting, most likely his bed while his teeth play with your breast and his cock dives into-

"You okay?" he studies your face, your eyes not meeting his and instead still focusing on the white ceiling.

"Mhm." you reply with a small voice.

"Relax, alright? It'll be over soon." his voice is as gentle as he can, his fingers mindlessly caressing your breast to try to soothe your nerves. Or maybe it's just because he's a selfish bastard. Whatever it is, he forces himself to bring the clamp to your nipple, securing it around it.

"Take a few deep breaths. This will only take a second of pain and then it will go away." He misses the way your mouth falls open, but he doesn't miss the way your eyes squeeze tight as the needle goes in.

"Ah!" he definitely doesn't miss that either. He goes rigid for a second, because that didn't fucking sound like a cry of painfulness. It's breathy, and whiny, not too loud and, for fucks sake, if that's how you sound when you're getting fucked, he swears to God-

He feels your heartbeat under his hands when he puts the barbell in and then the bandage over it. He takes a look at you, chest moving up and down. And then you take a look at him and what he sees is almost enough to take you right there.

Reddened cheeks, drops of sweat framing your face and those eyes glazed with something he's seen too much in the women he's fucked throughout his life. They're half lidded, mascara adorning your long lashes and almost smudged, looking right through him.

"Jungkook..." and your voice, as you say his name -acknowledging him for the first time since you stepped into his shop, for the first time since you were sixteen-, it's hoarse, almost inaudible, like you just came all over his-

He's on his feet in an instant like he's been burned. "It may bleed for the first week, and it can be really sore. The swelling will eventually come down." he's quickly tidying up the table, a bottle in his hand that he hands to you without looking directly. "Wash it gently with this soap and warm water once per day. Don't touch it. Wear a comfortable...bra. If it gets crusty, clean it with saline. Not alcohol or any other thing you might clean a wound with. The soap I just gave you or saline. Nothing else."

He's pacing around the room as he takes his gloves off and throws them in the trash bin, too agressively maybe, then he keeps rambling, like he's hurriedly trying to make you leave as soon as possible. "Avoid pools and the sea. It takes about six months to a year to heal, so don't... don't touch it, don't play with it or..." he clears his throat, "don't let anyone else play with it. And if it gets infected, come back immediately and I'll take a look at it." which he honestly hopes it won't happen. When he faces you, your top is back on and you're getting off the table.

"Alright, um...I'll do that." clearing your throat, your hand gripping the doorknob. "Thank you."

But right before you can exit the room, Jungkook says your name.

"_____." when you turn around to face him, it takes a few seconds for him to make eye contact from across the room. "It was good to see you."

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"Let me see!"

It's the first thing Chaelin says when she opens the door to her appartment. It's on the second floor, small enough to compare it to most expensive appartments you'd stayed in throughout your life, but big enough for Chaelin, her cat and her -impressive- collection of acrylic nail kits and pairs of high heels. It's also big enough for her to offer you the only guest room until summer is over so you didn't have to, one, stay at your parents' place, and two, find an appartment in a short period of time for a short period of time.

When you left years ago, you did so with the thought of 'never looking back'. You never really expected to return here, of all places. Maybe visit your best friend for a weekend at most, have dinner with your parents on a saturday and then go back to the new life you'd made for yourself on a sunday.

But that was before you'd caught Adam cheating.

Tale as old as time: childhood sweethearts get engaged, move in together, son of a bitch sleeps with the assistand he told his girlfriend not to worry about, and then the brokenhearted girl packs her bags and leaves the cheating bastard begging for her to come back.

You'd be lying if you said you were surprised.

Throughout your life, you'd learned to expect many things, regardless of being sheltered and babied by your family since you were born. Watched too much Maury and Dr.Phil. Too much Gossip Girl to know what the deal with life really is.

So, thankfully, you'd only shed a few tears, mostly because your ego and self steem were slightly triggered. You'd realize long before that your feelings for Adam started to disappear once he popped the question and you said yes. Your love story began as teenagers but soon after graduating, the two of you went on different paths: you'd matured, grown into your twenties while he got stuck at 17 and never stopped acting as such.

So yeah, whatever, break ups are hard. But they're not as hard when the love is gone and the sole reason to stay with your partner is to please your parents. You were also right when you expected your mom to tell you to 'forgive and forget' because 'those things just happen, it's not a big deal, honey'.

But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

The lanky nerd with braces, glasses and an anime obsession much bigger than his hentai obsession, which is saying a lot. The shy, awkward classmate who'd stuttered his undying crush for you when you were just kids. That one who you had rudely rejected like the bitch you used to be in high school.

But my God, Jeon Jungkook was anything but a kid now.

You were shocked. You were gagged. Couldn't seem to fathom what was happening and what your eyes were seeing. It took you a while to close your mouth when you realized JK was Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

With messy black hair, a smoldering gaze free of glasses, piercings adorning both ears, and his right eyebrow,, the braces long gone showing perfectly straight - but still bunny like- teeth. The clothes he wore were loose, all black, but it was impossible not to notice the muscles of his back and arms, covered with tattoos from his hands to his forearms. You'd bet there were more of them underneath the fabric.

It was awkward at first. You didn't know what to do, or what to say. Didn't know if he rememberd you. So you chose to stay quiet while your body chose to react like it had never been in the presence of an attractive young man in it's entire life.

And oh, did it react.

He was reluctant, his old timid demeanor peeking through his newly adopted persona. But as soon as those hands came in contact with your skin, your whole body was lit on fire. Like you were 16 and losing your virginity over again and it was the first time a dude touched your boobs.

There shouldn't have been anything erotic about it -besides the fact that your entire breasts were exposed-, it should've been just a professional procedure. But those gloved fingers touched and pinched and suddenly you were too aware of Jeon Jungkook and the way you were starting to sweat profously, not due to the heat of the season.

You tried to distract yourself by looking at the cieling and not at his gorgeous face. Tried to avoid thinking about Jeon Jungkook and how his mouth would feel wrapped around you. Tried not to think about the way your panties were a second skin to your folds, and how tempted you were to grind your hips until you recieved some sort of friction with the jean fabric of your shorts. You wonder if he noticed you squeezing your thighs together. You hope not.

And then the needle happened. You never thought of yourself as a particularly kinky person. Sex with Adam was boring for the most part and you'd lost your libido for a long time. Stopped thinking about sex altogether. But the pain. The pain mixed with his hand rubbing soothing circles on your breast and his voice, as sweet as honey, guiding you through it. It made you reconsider a lot of things you'd once dismissed as 'weird' or 'deviant'

You swear you almost came right on his table.

And then your eyes connected, you made the mistake of calling his name like a satisfied woman who still needed more, and it was all gone. He stood up like a scared cat, gave you a bunch of explanations about the aftercare that you barely grasped without even looking at you and pretty much rushed you to leave.

So you walked, all the way from the tattoo parlor to Chaelin's appartment, mortified, and completely humilliated.

"Are you gonna let me see or not?" your friend says expectantly as you finally sit down after chugging a glass of iced water. You sigh, placing the glass on the table before carefully pulling down your top. "Oh my God, it looks so cool!" she gasps and you can't help a smile while she studies it in amazement. "Did it hurt?"

"Um, I guess." you keep out the part where you almost orgasmed, obviously, stopping her hand from touching when she reaches towards you. "Wait, no. He said something about not touching it for like six months or a year, I don't remember."

At that, Chaelin's eyebrows quirk up. "He? It was a he? Was he cute, at least?"

"You won't believe this..." looking away for a few seconds, you take a deep breath. "It was Jeon Jungkook."

There's a pause, a silence that fills the room when Chaelin's jaw drops. "Jeon Jungkook...pierced your nipple?"

You close your eyes, bracing yourself for what you're a hundred percent sure is coming.

"Ha..." there it is. "Ha ha..." you still know there's more. "Ha ha ha..."

Chaelin laughs hysterically for about God knows how long, while you keep drinking your glass of water unfaced, your mind drifting back to Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie, his tattoos and his stupid gloved hands.

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You know he's here.

Everything was cool, you were doing alright, having a great time with your vodka sprite in hand and your cute white bikini on. Chaelin was by your side, the guys were excited to have you back and thankfully, you'd avoided most questions about Adam and they'd avoided digging too deep into the topic. You'd sunbathed the whole afternoon, kept away from the water like he'd told you and ate the Hawaiian pizza Yoongi insisted on ordering despite Namjoon's and Jimin's complaints.

It's at night, when you're a little tipsy and your cheeks are flushed, that you feel it. You'd barely noticed Taehyung disappearing to let in a new guest.

You don't see him, but you feel him.

You're sitting on the pool tile steps, legs dangling and the water baely reaching your belly to make sure it doesn't touch your very sensitive and newly pierced nipple. Your back is facing the sliding glass doors of Hoseok's house, but the moment you hear his voice, smooth but animated as he converses with Taehyung, your body wakes up immediately, back straightening, goosebumps forming on your arms and nipples tightening against the fabric of your two piece.

You don't turn around, instead opting for downing the remaining of your drink and coming to the realization that, of course, Taehyung, social butterfly who'd always got along with everybody and remained friends with most people from high school, still keeps in touch with Jungkook.

You ignore him when he enters the pool, still peering from the corner of your eyes while pretending to be engaged in Chaelin's and Jihyo's conversation. Your mind sabotages you by taking you to that day a week ago at the tattoo parlor.

To the warmth of his hand, to the few strands of hair that his small ponytail couldn't keep together, to the way his eyes focused on such an intimate part of your body, to the endless ink decorating his skin, to-

Great. Now your bottoms are wet and not due to the water.

You don't miss Chaelin supressing a laugh and her not so subtle elbowing. You glance at her in warning and try to keep calm for the next fifteen minutes until Jin proposes moving to the living room to watch a movie.

"I'm gonna stay here for a little longer, guys." you say, after clearing your throat. You needed some time to gather yourself before being in a confined space with Jungkook.

"Are you sure?" Jin stops by your side to place a hand on your shoulder as everybody starts exiting the pool. "It's Mean Girls! You love Mean Girls! You never miss a minute of Mean Girls!"

Rolling your eyes, you wave him dismissively. "I know every dialogue on Mean Girls like the back of my hand, I think I'll be alright, Jin."

When everybody finally leaves, you take a deep breath, covering your face with your hands in an attempt to get him out of your head. Damn Jeon Jungkook and his irresisitble glow up.

"You okay?"

The unexpected voice startles you, a gasp finding its way out of your mouth and causing you to jump on your seat, heartbeat erratic as you instantly recognize who it belongs to. Your hand grasps your chest as if that would do anything to protect yourself against him.

"Shit, don't do that!" you say, the words almost getting stuck in your throat as you see him approaching you, still submerged in the pool. The more he nears you, the less water depth there is and the more visible his torso comes into view. Wich was exactly what you'd been avoiding.

Because Jeon Jungkook was ripped, as you'd imagined when you first encountered him.

Broad shoulders and strong biceps and chiseled abs and veiny forearms. Drenched hair, a full sleeve of tattoos and water dripping from delicious tan skin and all just so very hard. That paired up with a loopsided smile that does nothing but make you shudder.

"Sorry." he doesn't sound apologetic at all when he says that, the smirk adorning his features telling. "You just seemed a little off." you advert your gaze when he pushes his hair back.

"I'm fine, just...just wanted to be by myself."

"Oh" Jungkook's smile disappears. "I can leave, if you want me t-"

"No!" you're not sure where that comes from and neither does he, judging by the look on his face when your eyes find his. Eyebrows raised and mouth slightly parted, he's as surprised as you and there's an awkward silence for a few seconds. "Um, you don't have to. I mean, it's not my house, you can do whatever you want." you sniff and tame your voice, trying to seem cool and collected like you didn't just practically beg him not to go.

Ironic, considering this was exactly what you had been fearing for the past thirty minutes.

And then he smiles. A knowing smile. A smile that says 'you just totally checked me out and now you don't want me to leave'. A smile that you would have never associated with Jeon Jungkook of all people years ago. A smile that makes you want to look away but still keeps you in place.

"Sure." he says, closing the space between the two of you slowly but still leaving enough distance. "So, how's it going?"

You clear your throat, head high and determined not to let this man, or any man for that matter, turn you into a trembling mess. You're still you and you're not easily shaken by the opposite sex. Or at least that's what you helplessly chant in your head.

"Everything's cool. I'm on summer vacation now," a little white lie, "so I decided to-"

"The piercing." he says, the smile never leaving his face. "I meant how's the piercing."

"The pier- right." you almost miss the step he takes forward, all too aware of his height over yours but thankful for the centimeters that being propped on the stairs added to yours. "It's-" you almost, almost miss his knee touching your knee and him slightly separating your legs with his own inch by inch. Or how your thighs open unvoluntarely to welcome him in and how you can barely find coherent words to speak. "It's doing-" or the way his smile disappears and is instead focusing his dark stare fully onto yours.

"It's doing well." you finally say in a whisper, not being able to bring yourself to be louder.

He hums. "May I see it?" Jungkook wets his lips with the tip of his tongue and the action and his voice is enough to make you nod your head, bewitched.

His movements are unhurried, his hand coming up to tentatively come in contact with the flesh of your clavicle. His fingers skim through your skin upwards, his touch is feather-like when it wraps around your throat. You pant, and he stops but he doesn't move away, his eyes still focused on yours, studying you, daring you to pull back, to tell him to back off. But just a simple touch of his and you're fully under his control. It reminds you too much of the day you got that damn piercing.

Your lips are parted and for a moment he stays just like that. His body so close to yours but not close enough, and his hand slightly gripping your neck. Your pussy clenches around nothing and you can't wrap your head around the fact that something so simple sets your entire being alive and leaves you aching.

Then, as slow as he started, his hand travels from the front of your neck to the back, pushing your hair aside to carefully untie the straps of your bikini. He breathes through his nostrils, doesn't make a sound. He seems so collected it's starting to annoy you.

Instead, your breathing is ragged when the top falls down, exposing both your breasts to him. That's when he removes his eyes from yours and his jaw clenches. Your nipples perk up under his gaze, like they remember him and the effect he had on them just a week ago. You're at least glad you're not the only one affected but he seems to be a master at keeping it under wraps.

Then, his hand moves again, leaving goosebumps on your skin as it goes south. Jungkook takes his time, so deliberate you want to scream, until he's cupping your pierced breast, keeping away from the nipple just like he'd advised you a few days prior. You can't look away from his face, from his eyes observing you like you're a full course meal and he's been starving for days. You feel drops of water falling from his hair to your thighs, his thumb caressing your skin so delicately as it faintly nears your still tender nipple. Just nearing it, never touching it.

"Beautiful." his murmur is almost imperceptible and for a moment you think you've imagined it. Your back arches on its own, breast pushed against the palm of his hand, almost like your body is begging him to come closer, to touch you more, to feel you all over. He meets your eyes briefly, gauging your reaction, before going back to your chest. Suddenly, the grip on your breast tightens, fingers ever so softly squeezing your flesh. From your throat comes a mewl, your eyes shut and your legs close around his waist.

"Jungkook, please..." you whisper when you open your eyes. He looks at you, unvertainty written all over his face, lips bruised as if he had been biting on them too hard, gaze as glassy as yours. And just like that, the spell is broken. He blinks and his expression changes completely. Lips forming a straight line and jaw tight. His hand retracts, fixing your bikini top over your breasts before tying it around your neck like it originally was. Meanwhile your eyebrows crunch in confusion. But when you're about to start asking questions, he clears his throat.

"It's healing okay." he steps back, avoiding your eyes. "I'll see you inside."

Jungkook leaves the pool like nothing happened.

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Jungkook is fiddling, fixing the position of his glasses and combing through his straight hair with shaky hands, habits he's tried so hard to get rid of in his sixteen years of existence but still finds impossible to.

He can't help it. He's always been like this: the quiet and awkward kid in class who sits in the back, a misunderstood puppy in a sea of stronger dog breeds that could eat him alive. An outcast. Too geeky for his own good. Notebokes full of Dragon Ball doodles on the margins of the pages, the shelves in his room stacked with Marvel figurines, and a closet filled with outdated clothes that he has been inheriting from his older brother.

He has never been the type to stand out, always being overlooked by people like he's invisible. He doesn't mind though. He'd much rather be ignored than getting picked on by bullies like he used to in elementary school.

He never gets invited to parties. Ever. He's a nobody who barely speaks, and when he does he either stutters or manages to embarrass himself in one way or another. He's seen the look on people's faces when they look at him. Their eyes seem to scream 'weirdo' everytime he gets acknowledged.

So obviously the only reason he was invited to this particular party had a first and last name: Kim Taehyung. The only kid in Jungkook's entire life who didn't look at him in a funny way, the only kid who took the time to entangle in a random conversation with him after class and who seemed geniune enough to make Jungkook feel comfortable.

He's not sure how it happened, since Taehyung mostly hangs out with the cool kids. But somehow it did, and now Jungkook is uncomfortably standing in a living room full of drunk teens, looking directly at you.

You, the one girl Jungkook had been pining on for God knows how long. You, who are obviously too pretty, too popular, and way out of his league. You, with your plaid skirt and your polo shirt and those legs that never seem to end. You, who are sitting with your friends in a couch, drink in hand and visibly tipsy. And yet, he doesn't think he's ever seen anyone pull of the 'drunk-rosy-cheek' look better than you.

He can hear your laugh through the music and he already thinks it sounds better than whoever is playing in the background.

"Come on, Gukkie! Her friends are leaving and she's all by herself now! It's your chance" Taehyung's obviously drunk too because it took Jungkook a while to decypher his exact words. He'd disappeared for a while and now that he's back, he's pushing Jungkook in your direction.

"This was a mistake, Taehyung." Jungkook shakes his hair and steps back, quickly glancing at the front door to prepare his escape. But his new friend's grip on his hoodie keeps him in place.

"Guk, listen. The only thing you have to do, is walk up to her, and say 'hey I think you're, like, really pretty. Just letting you know. Bye!' That's it. Jung- Dude, Guk, seriously, look at me." Taehyung grabs Jungkook's cheeks, squishing them between his hands and forceing him to face him. "You've been crushing hard on her for years, my man. We're graduating and you won't see each other again. What's the worst thing that can happen? Getting rejected?"

Jungkook's eyebrows draw together. "Um, yeah?"

"Exactly! Getting rejected is not the end of the world, bro! It just means keep trying on other girls!" Taehyung releases his hold on Jungkook's cheeks. "I just think you're going to regret not telling your crush she's your crush. Who knows? Maybe in the future you two will get married."

Jungkook snickers, muttering a 'yeah right' under his breath. Still, he can't help the smile that Taehyung's words always seem to pull out of him.

"Now," Taehyung playfully slaps Jungkook before turning him in your direction again. "Go get 'em, tiger!"

"Okay," Mijoo's voice slices through Jungkook's memories. She's sitting on Jungkook's desk, munching on her brownies and looking at her coworker expectantly. "And then what?"

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, sits back on his chair, already feeling the effects of Mijoo's baked goods. "And then I walked up to her, like a damn fool, stutter and all. And I say:" he clears his throat, making an effort to do his best teenage Gukkie impression."'Hey, _____, um, so, I think you're beautiful and I've had a crush on you since seventh grade, haha, just wanted to let you know.'"

Mijoo rolls her eyes, still chewing. "And then what?"

"And then she looked me up and down, giggled, fucking giggled, Mijoo, and said 'Who are you, again?'" Mijoo gasps and Jungkook closes his eyes, trying to force that recollecion out of his head.

"What a bitch." she can't help but laugh before apologizing. Jungkook merely shrugs his shoulders and takes another bite of his brownie. "She didn't say anything else?"

"She said something along the lines of:" he clears his throat again, this time, doing an impression of you. "'That's sweet and all but, you and I... we're not the same. And I have a boyfriend, so...' She said that like I didn't know, like I wasn't aware of the school's it couple! Like I was dumb!"

Mijoo nods. "And now you want to fuck her even more than you did in high school."

"I- No! Well, yes. Fuck, of course I want to sleep with her! But I just... can't."

"Why not?"

"Did you hear anything about what I just told you or were you too concentrated trying to get high?"

It's Mijoo's turn to roll her eyes. "I heard everything you just told me. I just don't understand what the problem is. You two were sixteen. Sure, she was a bitch about it, but Lord knows I've been a bitch my entire life and now I'm not anymore." Jungkook raises an eyebrow at that. "Okay, sometimes I can be nice. But the point is..." Mijoo finishes her piece of brownie before getting off of Jungkook's desk. "It's been, what? Nine? Ten years? People change, JK. You're the best example of that. You want to fuck her and she obviously wants to fuck you too. You're both adults." she wipes her hands on her shorts. "I think it's time you fulfill that high school fantasy of yours."

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You've made up your mind.

And by you, it means Chaelin has made up your mind.

It didn't take long to convince you though. That last interaction with Jungkook cause too many emotions stirring within you. It left you hot, it left you bothered, it left you confused. Sure, it also left you a little bit embarrassed like the first time, but above everything else, that interaction with Jungkook left you absolutely livid.

Because who the fuck did Jeon Jungkook, formerly known as Guk, Gukkie, Jungukkie, and currently known as JK, think he was to come near you, speed your heart rate's up, and then runaway like that?

You've spent days thinking about it. About that face, about that body, about those hands and- shit. You're doing it again.

You've spent days trying to push those intrusive thoughts. Spent days trying to bury what happened. You've spent days trying to keep quiet, not telling anyone about it and just wishing that stupid spark of desire simply went away.

But it has just been simply unavoidable. You haven't been able to ignore the sleepless nights with your brain drifting back to that night and forbidding your hand from slipping under your panties. Or the excessive amount of time during the day where images of him suddenly popped in your head and wouldn't go away, even with you squeezing your thighs to try to make the ache go away.

So you ended up ranting and ranting and ranting to the only person you could confide on, who is obviously your best friend. Your best friend, who's too smart for her own good and knows you too well for your liking. Because apparently your moodiness and snappy remarks couldn't go unnoticed.

And after explaining the fiasco over a bottle of wine -and minutes of endless laughing on Chaelin's part because, again, it's Gukkie you two were talking about and, according to her, this was "the most karmic thing I've ever seen"-, she gave you the best advice an older sister could ever give.

"Fuck him."

"I know right? Fuck him!"

"No. I mean, fuck him."

And now here you are. Right inside that room you stepped in weeks ago, confronting the man in question with the same confidence that has always distinguished you from others and trying to act like the fluttering inside your belly wasn't nauseauting.

"A date."

"Yes."

"You want to go on a date with me." this wouldn't be so hard if Jungkook didn't look so delectable in a plain white t-shirt and ripped jeans. You cross your arms over your chest, doing your best to not look down at the exposed skin of a man who obviously worked out a lot and apparently, never skipped leg day. "What's the catch?"

He's sitting on his chair, back resting comfortably and legs spread, narrowing his eyes at you and probably wondering why the girl at the front desk let you in without an appointment. Also, probably wondering if there was a catch to all of this.

"There's no catch. I just want to go to the fair this weekend. I'll ask Taehyung for your number and text you the date and the exact place we'll be meeting. Unless..." your quirk one of your eyebrows. "Unless you're already planning on how you'll chicken out this time."

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Of course, Jungkook says yes to going on a date with his high school crush but spends the following days overthinking every single thing.

He can't help but feel like it's kinda sketchy. What if you're planning your vendetta on him? What if you don't even show up and he ends up there looking like a damn idiot? What if you hate him and are just messing up with him? What if that incident in high school is going to repeat itself?

"If she doesn't show up, you simply move on and never speak to her again. It's that simple. She can't have that much power over you to cry about something like that." Mijoo had said that same day she let you in the tattoo parlor after you'd asked to see Jungkook. Jungkook's coworker hadn't even question you and just motioned you to Jungkook's room with a knowing smile on her face. Later that day, Jungkook had scolded her about it and she'd simply shrugged.

He considers cancelling, eyes reading the 'won't be able to make it, sorry (sad face emoji)' over and over again and fingers hovering over the send button so many times he's lost count. But then he remembers that comment of yours about him chickening out and Jungkook starts seeing red.

How couldn't you understand he's just terrified of you rejecting him one more time? Sure, Jungkook is now an adult who doesn't get butthurt over stuff like that. He's experienced too much after graduating from high school and he's a much stronger individual than his fragile self back was back then.

But something about you just makes him feel so... weak.

He still finds it impossible to concieve where he got the courage to approach you like that at Taehyung's pool, or how he brought himself to touch you for longer than a minute without coming in his pants. He'd enjoyed it too much. Allowing him to see you so exposed, just for him. He'd be so tempted to kiss you right there and then, to run his hands up and down your thighs and fully wrap your legs around him to let you known how much you'd affected him. Once you called his name, it was like he'd finally snapped out of it and backed away like he'd been burned by you. He spent the next twenty minutes trying to keep himself from pulling down his pants and jerking off in his friend's bathroom.

It's terrible. Because he feels like the teenager he used to be when you're around. Shy, insecure and overall a mess. You showing up in his life after so many years and now apparenly being interested in him seems like a dream that he's not sure he wants to keep being in or wake up from before it's too late and he falls back into that tumoltuous longing that will inevitably end up in heartbreak. His heartbreak.

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It's saturday night, he's standing by himself in the crowded fair at the spot. You're fifteen minutes late and he's already about to turn back and dip out. He feels too awkward and the nerves are eating him alive.

You're not going to show up. You're not going to show up and now he feels and looks even dumber than the time he told you he was crushing on you. You're not even going to show up and now he's going to come back home, get drunk by himself and curse your name for-

"Hey!" he turns around to the sound of your voice and sees you running towards him. "Sorry I'm late! I couldn't find my phone and spent like thirty minutes looking for it. Turns out, Sharon Stone, was taking a nap on top of it and I didn't even notice."

"Sharon Stone?"

"Chaelin's cat."

To be honest, he's too surprised to process your explanation right away. He might also be a little speechless because that sky blue sundress looks too good on your skin and your eyelashes are so long, framing your beautiful eyes, and your lips are all glossy and kisseable that it takes him a while to find his own voice.

He clears his throat. "It's alright." scratching the back of his head, he momentarely adverts his gaze from you in an attempt to not get distracted by how soft your hair looks and how much he wants to wrap it around his hands in a ponytail. "Um, where do you want to go first?"

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Almost an hour and a half later, when the sun has already disappeared and you're both surrounded by colorful lights, Jungkook decides to buy the both of you hot dogs and a drink and you both settle down on a bench.

You've been walking all over the fair, going from booth to booth, playing any game in sight Jungkook dared you to -he obviously had a competitive streak-: from the ballon and dart games, to the shooting games, to the bumping cars, to the ball-in-basket one. To say you were having fun was an understatement.

You'd almost regretted setting the date up. You were sure he wouldn't even show up and if he did, you were scared of how awkward things could get between the two of you. And if things were awkward, you were sure it would only take less than thirty minutes for the both of you to part ways and never talk again about such failure of a date.

To your surprise, none of that happened.

The conversation was flowing, both of you acting like you were strangers on their first date getting to know each other, which, to be fair, that's exactly what it felt like. There was a slight banter, teasing each other when one of you lost in whatever game you were playing while the other was obviously winning. There were laughs and a funny feeling in your tummy whenever you'd walk side by side and his arm brushed yours.

There was no stiffness on his shoulders, no mention of the past or your previous encounters, no acknowledgement of the blatant sexual tension you'd experienced before, not an ounce of avoidance whenever your eyes met his and he was even sure of himself enough to place a hand on your lower back or briefly interwine your fingers with his to guide you through the mass of people.

It felt like you'd both unspokenly agreed on making each other feel comfortable enough to have a good time.

"I didn't think you were going to show up, to be honest." you suddenly say, taking a sip of your strawberry juice and thankful to finally let your feet rest for a while.

Jungkook looks at you, hot dog mid air and eyebrows almost disappearing into his hairline. "You didn't think I was going to show up? I didn't think you were going to show up." you simply shrug, lowering your gaze seepishly, the beginning of a smile on both your faces. He surprises you by tilting your head in his direction with his forefinger. You watch him watching you, a little dazed, a little lost in how his dark hair messily falls over his forehead and his equally dark eyes study your face, his thumb swiping over your lower lip. "You um... There was ketchup right there." he lies.

"Oh" you say, feeling your face heating up. "Thanks. Red doesn't really match this dress." you manage a smile and tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear.

At that, he eyes your dress for a moment, mouth slightly ajar. He's debating on whether or not to say something but you beat him to it.

"I'm sorry, by the way."

"For being late? I already told you it's fin-"

"No." you shake your head. "For... that time when we were young and I was such a concieted brat." you say, looking away , trying to find anything else that's not his pretty face. "I thought I was a queen bee back then. I was annoying and rude, specially to you. I..." you lick your lips. The cherry glittery gloss was already gone. "I thought it was cute, what you said. There was no reason for me to act like that. I know this doesn't make anything right but..." when you turn to face him again, there's still the same expression on his face. "I'm sorry."

A few seconds go by before it's him who's shaking his head. "It's okay. It was a long time ago, anyway." he smiles at you, although it doesn't reach his eyes and seems sorta forced. You sigh, and he takes your hand. "Let's go to the ferris wheel."

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tell you're tense. You're sitting right beside him in the ferris cabin, your back is all straight, you're facing forward and he believes you haven't blinked for what feels like an eternity. He thinks it has everything to do with your conversation a few minutes ago. You were probably not content with his response but what could Jungkook do? There was really no point in apologizing for something that happened years ago, but at the same time, he didn't want to hold anything against you like a resentful asshole because it was really not who he was. But there was still a little bit of stingyness inside of him and he didn't know how to make it go away.

At the end of the day, here you were, on a date with him that you'd asked for, getting along and asking questions about him and laughing at his jokes and trying to start all over again.

But then the ferris wheel starts moving, and he finally understands why you look so uncomfortable.

It's the way you immediately grip his forearm, nails digging in his skin and he swears he hears the smallest gasp forcing itself out your throat.

"Are you... scared?" he tentatively asks.

You say nothing for a while, not moving an inch. He would laugh if you didn't look so pained about it.

"I don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters." you finally say through gritted teeth.

"It's not really that small and ferris wheels are not rollercoasters. " your nails dig deeper and he winces. "Okay, okay. You don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters, and that includes ferris wheels. So why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know. I've never liked ferris wheels but you seemed excited about it, so..."

There's a silence after that in the environment, neither of you exactly sure of what to say or how to act. Until Jungkook moves one of his hands hands until it's resting on the one who's holding onto him for dear life, fingers caressing yours. The warmth of his hand spreads through yours and although it's almost July and you can already feel your sweaty back staining your dress, it's oddly comforting. What's more comforting even, is him twisting his body towards you and talking with the calmest and most soothing tone you've ever heard.

"Look at me." you do instantly, unwillingly, and kinda wish you hadn't. It's almost as if your body will do anything he says without question. Like he has some sort of power over it to just react however he wants. His eyes bore into yours and suddenly the cab doesn't seem so suffocating. "It's just you and me right now. We're not even on a ferris wheel." the corners of his mouth turn slowly upwards. You zone out the environment, suddenly too aware of him and how close he is and how loud the beating of your heart is to your own ears.

"Jungkook."

You swallow the knot in the back of your throat when he removes his hand from yours. It almost makes you protest, - now realizing you've losened the tight grip on his arm- , before it craddles your face, keeping you in place while bringing his body closer.

"You have to stop saying my name like that."

With his thigh touching your thigh, your whole demeanor melts. When he leans closer, and you feel his breath fanning over your lips, your eyes shut closed.

"Tell me I can-" he starts to say.

"Yes." you finish for him. He doesn't doubt on closing the distance between you two. His lips touch yours and your body shakes in excitement. It's just him lightly skimming your lips with his but it's already too much and at the same time, not enough. It has you deepening it, yourself moving closer when he kisses you again. It has you relaxing against him, the tenseness prior disappearing and making you arch your back when his tongue asks for permission.

But it's exactly then, the moment you open your lips to him, that has you losing your mind.

The sparks fly, traveling from your head to your toes and then settling on the pit of your stomach as soon as the kiss starts to turn desperate and rough. When he nibbles your lips with his teeth, it makes you mewl and whine and your nipples tight against the cotton of your dress. It makes the metal barbell to feel uncomfortable, slightly painful. And when he goes back to being messy and filthy with his tongue tangled with yours, your thighs close on their own.

He forces himself to pull his hand back and bring it down, finding the parting of yd opening them for him. "Wait," you say, your fingers wrapping around his forearm as you try to catch your breath."The ferris-" he shuts you up with another kiss.

"We're not on a ferris wheel." he reminds you, a soft whisper against your mouth. And for whatever reason, you believe him.

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"He fingered you on the ferris wheel."

"Yes."

"And you came before the ride was over."

You take a small sip of wine, your eyes focusing on the TV where a rerun of the Golden Girls is playing, although, to be fair, lately you haven't been able to pay much attention to anything else but a certain brunet with doe eyes and kisseable lips. "Yes."

She hums, stealing a handful of popcorn from the bowl between your thighs.

"How long did it took? Like five minutes?"

There's a pause in which you clench your jaw, your fingers twitching around the glass in your hand, and then you answer. "Probably less."

There's another pause, and then-

"Ha...Ha ha...Ha ha ha-"

You let her laugh. It's okay. You knew you had it coming.

Chaelin knows the pillow you throw right at her face is also something she had coming.

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It's not that you're mad.

Jungkook and you had a great time on that fair date, he made you laugh, bought hot dogs and drinks for the two of you and got you off inside the cab of a ferris wheel on record time with those magical, long fingers of his. Technically, there shouldn't be anything to be angry about.

Except it's been a week and you can't stop thinking about him, about wanting more, and about those words that he left you with after the ferris wheel ride ended, when you had tried to return the favor.

'Next time, maybe.'

And there hasn't been a next time.

The thought of texting him or giving him a call to ask for another date is persistent in your mind. It remains while you do the laundry or wash the dishes, while you shower, while you eat or while you spend your days at the beach with Chaelin. There's always the incessant desire to reach out towards your phone, unlock it and dial his number to beg for more.

But you'd never been one to beg, so you resist the urge everytime that feeling starts to creep up on you and it washes over you like a wave. You silence your phone and try to concentrate on making the most out of your summer.

It's one random night, when you're tiredly dragging your feet across Chaelin's apartment's carpet, yawning and ready to succumb to a well needed slumber, that you see your phone screen's lighting up with a message.

Your heart pathetically leaps inside your chest when you read his name.

'you free on saturday?'

You wish you could say you ghosted him, ignored his text and moved on with your life until it was him who begged you for another date. But the truth is you opened it in a matter of seconds and typed 'i'm free, why?' back in a rush with trembling fingers.

So now you're on the passanger seat of his car while he sits on the driver seat, the first saturday night of July, like he's Danny Zuko and you're Sandy Olsson, watching a vintage movie in a drive-in theater which plot you don't give a shit about, even if Jungkook's date plan idea made something inside of you churn with adoration.

And the only reason why you don't give a single damn about the movie playing in front of your eyes, is because you're hot. Way too hot. And the reason and cause is none other than the boy-now-turned-man sitting on your left.

You barely exchanged words when he picked you up, just rode in silence until you got to your destination and you bet he can feel as well as you do the tension in the air.

You've surveyed him a few times from the corner of his eye, noticing him fiddling with the rings around his fingers and shifting in his seat from time to time. And if the sight of his fingers bring memories that you've tried to bury to keep yourself from lunching towards him, a brief glance at his forearms, adorned with ink drawn through his golden flesh -doing a poor job at concieling the veins running underneath- and his skin-tight jeans wrapping those muscled thighs of his is enough to have you be the one squirming in your seat.

A woman can only endure so much, and you come to that realization thirty minutes into the movie.

"I want to suck your cock." you say, a stern expression on your face as you turn your body in his direction.

Jungkook frozes as your voice slides over him. It takes him a couple seconds to look at you, shock widening his eyes and parting his lips.

"Huh?" he manages, his grip on the steering wheel turning his knuckles white.

Without separating your gaze from his, you gather your hair and tie it in a ponytail with the hair tie previously around your wrist. You don't miss the quick glance he sneaks into the curvature of your neck and the valley between your breasts.

Inching forward, closing in on him, you place one of your hands on top of his thigh, the action making his whole body tense. "____..." he whispers your name in a warning that doesn't sound convincing even in his own ears.

You smile, your eyes never wavering from his as your hand inches upwards, slowly caressing over the fabric of his jeans until you finally come across what you were looking for.

His hand flies to your wrist, stilling your movements. "____, this is not-". He starts, but his voice gets stuck inside his throat when you palm his undoubtly growing erection.

"Shh." your shaky breath fans over his cheek and you force yourself on your knees on the passanger seat in a more comortable possition to stop the trembling to reach them.

You fumble with the belt holding his pants in place, then with the button and finally with the zipper. He helps you by lifting his hips to pull his jeans and boxers to his thighs and you have to bite back a mixture between a gasp and a moan at the sight below you. You haven't even seen Jeon Jungkook naked all the way, but the mere sight of his hard cock with pre-cum glistening on his crown is probably the sexiest thing you've ever had the pleasure of appreciating.

It gets sexier when you wrap your hand around the base and his body melts in the driver seat, throwing his head back with his eyes shut. It gets even sexier when you finally lower your head, swirling your tongue over the head before finally engulfing him fully in the wet warmth of your mouth.

"Shit." his voice is tight, uneven as his hand loosely grips your ponytail, as if careful not to accidentally hurt you and break the glorious moment.

Although you wouldn't mind at all. Because the moment your hands are on him, and your tongue is on his shaft, that's the only thing you care about. Your belly is twisting, an undeniable wet spot on your panties as the fabric sticks to your folds, and the more you suck Jungkook, the more you want from him. His earthy taste is addicting and the soft little whimpers he occasionally can't prevent himself from are making you want to milk him until he can't take it no more. There's this desire within you to whorship him and his cock like you had been dreaming for the past weeks.

"This is s-so fucking h-hot." he rasps between ragged breaths, the bobbing of your head, sliding up and down his dick as your hand works the centimeters your mouth can't take is about to make him faint.

"Getting a blowjob?" you joke, your throat starting to feel sore as you kiss his leaking tip.

"N-no." he draws in a rough breath when you take him all of him again. "You giving me a blowjob... T-the f-fact that anyone c-could see us..." he darts a quick glance at your body, your ass up in the air and your dress sliding down, almost exposing you completely. "The fact that-ah! Shit..." he squeezes his eyes when he feels a glob of your spit lubricating him.

There's a sudden need to make you feel the same, to touch your skin and have you shaking the same way you have him. So one of his hands travels from your spine, to your perked ass, finally dragging the cotton of your dress to allow himself to see your thin white panties. "The fact that anyone could see you l-like this," he murmurs, regaining a little bit of control when he squeezes one of your cheeks. "letting t-them see you s-sucking my cock and..." he smirks when he feels you gasping around him, his fingers trapped between your thighs and pushing them inside your heat easily "and letting them see me fingering this pretty little pussy."

Soon after that he's cumming in your mouth while you're cumming around his fingers.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

At first, it's mostly on weekends when you see each other. Weekends of stolen kisses and soft sighs and whispering against each other's lips. Then weekends turn to week days, sitting on grass while sipping on refreshing beverages, drawing each other laughs, elbows touching as you walk around the park side by side because the both of you are too scared to interwine your fingers together.

Jungkook feels content like this: sitting on the sand with you between his thighs, admiring the sunset while nuzzing your neck and inhaling your scent every now. He likes waching you enoying your strawberry ice cream, almost forgetting the chocolate chip one already melting in his hand.

"If you were an ice cream flavor,which one would you be?" you ask him, relaxing against his chest.

"Rocky road."

"Why?"

He shrugs behind you. "Everyone likes rocky road."

You hum, playfully rolling your eyes. "What about me? Which ice cream flavor would I be?"

"Lemon sherbet, in the summer."

"Lemon sherbet? Out of all of the flavours out there, you're rocky road and I'm lemon sherbet?"

"Lemon sherbet, in the summer." he corrects.

"Okay, fine. Why?"

"You're boring and basic."

You gasp, trying to feign outrage but not being able to repress the laugh that escapes your throat. You elbow him, his laugh mixing with yours while taking the time to wrap his arms around your form, the breeze blowing your hair allowing him a spot between your neck and your shoulder. "You're boring and basic, but once you have a taste..." he presses a small kiss on your skin, causing the tiny hairs on the nape of your neck to rise. "Once you have a taste, specially on the hottest day in the middle of summer, you can't stop tasting and licking until there's no more lemon sherbet left."

You suck in on a breath when he craddles your jaw to face him. "It's been my favourite flavor since I was a kid." he kisses you immediately after, his lips swallowing the small whimper now stuck in your throat.

You close your eyes as his tongue opens your mouth, arousal blasting your insides and something much, much deeper that you fear to even name shredding your chest.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

The beginning of august comes faster then you two realize, but what you both do realize is how hard it's becoming to stay away from each other.

It's been thirty days of dates happening almost everyday, sharing high school memories and anecdotes of the time you spent away from each other. Hours of getting to know each other and opening up to each other. From failed relationships to new friendships. Of park dates walking side by side and fingers now interwined because you both realized one day that, fuck it.

It's difficult to sleep when you realize you're starting to catch serious feelings for somebody who was just supposed to be a fling. It's hard to sleep when his face, his voice and his touch and thoughts of missing him when you don't see each other start haunting you at night.

It's hard for Jungkook to focus on work when you're everything that's occupying his mind. Because he has a hundred sketches to make but he's too busy thinking about the hundred different sketches he would make of you.

It's hard not to send him a goodnight text, just like it's hard for him not to reply in a matter of seconds, almost as if he was already waiting to recieve it.

Jungkook thinks of you at night. Of how pretty and absolutely perfect you are for him. Of the taste of your lips, the way your hair feels between his fingers, or the flush on your cheeks when he makes you cum as droplets of sweat accumulate between your breasts. He thinks about your voice. He also thinks about the amount of hours left to be able to listen to it again.

But mostly he thinks about how ridiculous this situation is. Because he was stupidly crushing on you when you were only teenagers, daydreaming about a chance with you. And now his crush is long gone and he's starting to realize that he's falling, and falling fast.

You, too, think of Jungkook at night. Of his ability to bring a smile out of you, to soothe you with just a few words and filling your belly excitement, happiness and feelings you're sure you've never felt before.

Jungkook's managed to imprint himself in your dreams, and you, in his.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

Getting drunk with Jungkook is fun and messy.

It's fun because he lets loose, he stutters a lot like he used to do when he was a teenager and he makes you laugh louder than ever before. It's messy because he has no control over his hands as they explore your body, clumsily taking your clothes off as his mouth laps at the breast he's allowed to touch.

He's more forceful and dominating too, pinning your hands above your head, and commanding you to keep them right there, on the pillows of his bed. When you rebel against it, your fingers finding the hard planes of his chest, he pulls away from you and places them back where he left them. "Don't make me tie you up." he threatens, and your body shudders beneath him.

He sucks, and bites and leaves marks all over your skin, grunting in response to your moans. Creating a path of kisses from your lips to your stomach, his shoulders separating your knees, opening you up only for him. And thankfully, when you reach down to tug at the strands of hair framing his face, he lets you, because he knows you need something to hold on to the moment his tongue eats you up. He leaves his fingertrips on your thighs as he keeps you in place, not allowing you to runaway. Just forcing you to take it as he takes from you.

And when you cum, he doesn't back away. He keeps sucking, and licking and punishing you with his mouth until you're cumming over and ove again, screaming and begging for his cock.

Having Jungkook over you, both completely naked, skin to skin and only sweat in between is more than you could've ever fantazised about. He slurls your name when he puts the condom on. He would do anything to feel you raw, but he also knows he wouldn't be able to last a minute. The sight of you spread open, with your cheeks darkened by a crimson blush and your hair tangled all over his pillow is a picture he wants to keep forever.

He enters you when you call his name, your voice dripping with need. He stretches your warm and wet felsh, slowly easing himself into you at first, until he's fully inside and your bodies are completely in union. A shiver runs down Jungkook's spine when he looks at your contorted face in pleasure, your lips forming an 'O' and your pussy clenching around him.

"Oh, my God." you moan into the dark of Jungkook's room, and even then, he can clearly appreciate every curve of your body lifting off the mattress to connect with his. He lowers himself on his elbows on either side of your head, caging you in and capturing your mouth with his.

"I know, baby." he murmurs. It's hot, in the middle of August but suddenly Jungkook doesn't hate summer as much as he used to. Not with you sharing the heat with him. "It's way beyond what I could ever imagine." You nod hurriedly against his lips, your arms finding their way around his neck as he starts rocking in and out of you.

"It's too good." you cry, when he hits a particular spot that has you rolling your eyes in bliss and gripping his waist tighter with your legs against you. Your fingers thread through his hair, not bothered by the beads of sweat gathered on the nape of his neck.

"Too good..." he agrees, not missing the shiver that's shaking your own frame when he picks up his speed. "You have no idea what I would do t-to fucking feel you with n-no barriers between us," his movements become frantic as his hips slap against yours, his jaw clenched as he keeps talking, "to s-stuff you full of my c-cum over and over again until it won't stop d-dripping."

Jungkook's voice against your ear has you trembling and your orgasm nearing closer, your nails scratching down his back as his thrusts overpower your form. "Would you like that?" he asks with his voice strangled.

"Y-yes. Anything y-you want."

"You'd take all of my cum like a good cum-slut?"

You hate the fact that that's what makes you come undone. The twisting and knotting in the pit of your stomach finally snapping until you're holding on to him like you never want to let him go and he's following soon after.

Because if Guk, Gukkie, Jengukkie was not only able to make you come in less than a few minutes with his fingers or his tongue, but he was also able to make you cum instantly just by calling you a good cum-slut, that means you're fucked. Like, really, really fucked.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

There's a knot in Jungkook's stomach and a suffocating grip around his vocal chords as he caresses your skin. The sun is rising in the distance with the first rays of light entering his room through the window. Your shamphoo is intoxicating him, numbing him and enticing him to bury his nose in the tangled curls pressing against his chest. Your arm is thrown across his stomach, your breathing leavig goosebumps all over his body.

"It's too early. Go back to sleep." you mumble against his heart. He wonders if you can feel it dangerously speeding up.

"I can't." he says, voice struggling to stay balanced. "I have to tell you something."

You hum in response, sleep still interwined with your body, your arm tightening around him. You sigh in content, expecting him to elaborate.

He wets his suddenly dry lips. "I don't want this to end. In fact, ____.... I want more. Need more."

"Jungkook..." your whole body goes rigid right away, untanglling your bodies from each other and sitting up on the mattress.

"No, listen to me." he mimicks your movements, rapidly grabbing your hands to make you look at him. His eyes are expressive, a mixture of fear and hope swirling in his dark irises. "I wake up everyday, and you're the first thing I think of. I go on about my day, and I keep thinking about you, wondering what you're doing and counting down the hours until I get to see you again. I spend every night dreaming about you, and when we'e together, the only thing I can think about is how I wish I could stop time so I don't have to say bye to you the next morning. ____, I-"

"Jungkook, stop please." you shake your head, pushing away from him and in desperate need of air. You press a hand against your chest, beating back the throb of pain while the other curls in a tight fist, the feeling of your fingernails digging into your palm less painful than the ache inside your heart. "This... This wasn't supossed to happen, Jungkook." you start pacing around the room, as if trying to find an exit while avoiding his gaze. "This was just a summer fling. That's all it was, I'm supposed to come back to the city in two weeks and-"

"A summer fling?" a sardonic sneer comes out of him. "Oh my God, I can't believe this is happening again..." he mumbles to himself before rising from the bed. You stop immediately, a shiver quaking through you as his impressive frame intimidates His eyebrows are drawn together and his dark eyes are void of any prior emotion. "You're going back to the city in two weeks? And you didn't care to tell me until now, after I just spilled my guts to you?"

You eyes fill up with uncomfortable tears, reaching one arm towards him. "Jung-"

He flinches, taking one step back. "A summer fling is all I mean to you?"

"Ju- "

"Look me in the eyes, right now, and tell me that's all I mean to you. A summer fling." panic crawls up your throat. There's the need within you to confirm, to stare into his beautiful and stern eyes and tell him that, yes, that's all he is to you. But you've never been a good liar. So nothing comes out. You opt for wrapping your ams around yourself wishing they were his and lowering your eyes to the ground. "I think... I think you should leave."

Those are the last words he says to you, and the last thing you see when you turn around one more time after gathering your clothes, is his back as he looks out the window.

You allow yourself to cry the exact moment you step into Chaelin's apartment. Your friend is sitting on the couch, bowl of cereal in hand and a fresh cup of coffee sitting on the livingroom's table.

"Hey, you're early tod- Baby, what's wrong?"

"Please, don't laugh."

That morning, you lay down for hours on the couch with your head on Chaelin's lap while she softly brushes your hair as you cry, hiccup, fight through the pain in your heart and relate to her as best as you can the latest events.

She doesn't laugh at all.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

"She'll come back." Mijoo's slurred words do nothing to put Jungkook's state at ease that night. He simply shrugs, fingers clenching at his sides, frowing into his drink before gulping down the bitter taste of vodka in one shot. "Seriously, I think she's just afraid. My ex was the same."

"Comparing her to your ex is not the analogy you think it is."

"Ugh, shut up. Things didn't work with my ex because she was a bitch." Jungkook gives Mijoo a pointed look which she responds to by rolling her eyes and sipping on her rum coke. "Your girl is not a bitch. She used to be a bitch. What she did this morning was bitchy, but, like I said, she's just being a pussy. If she only wanted sex with you, she wouldn't have been doing couple stuff with you the entire summer."

"Whatever. I don't care." he lies and Mijoo knows he's lying but decides to drop the subject fo now.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

"We can't keep spending our days smoking weed." Chaelin speaks over Blanche's voice on the TV.

"I know. I'm just sad."

"You have to come back and tell him how you feel."

"I know."

There's a beat of silence before your friend kicks your thigh with her feet.

"I know and I will." you mumble through red eyes and smoke clouds.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

It's September first and it doesn't feel like Jungkook's birthday at all. He's been trying to focus on his work, alternating between isolating in full hermit mode and hanging out with friends to drink away his sorrow. The days have gone by and before he could realize it, he woke up today with over twenty text messages wishing him a happy day and a throbbing hangover.

He dresses up on autopilot. First a cotton shirt, then a pair of jeans and lastly, his Nike's. He doesn't bother tying his sneakers just like he doesn't bother taking a shower. He smokes a cigarette for breakfast, the death stick making him feel nauseaus on an empty stomach. And then he goes to work.

He's been repeating the same routing for the past weeks and he's not thinking of changing it, not even on his bithday.

He spends hours drawing, tattooing and drawing some more between yawns. He ignores texts an phone calls and simply waits until the day is over to go home, go to bed and forget about the fact that you're probably on your way to the city and that he hasn't crossed your mind not even once.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

Inkphoria.

You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping cup of ice cream as it melts down your fingers the more you wait. The shop is already empty and it's starting to darken out side, and still you're so hot. Your shorts are heavy and your tank top is sticking to your skin. You didn't even bother to put on any make, although your eyebags definitely needed some concieling and your lashes some dimension to hide the fact that you'd been crying for the last few days.

'You're crazy about him.'

Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.

You've lost count of how many times your best friend has given your advice, or simply encouraged you to do something you've been too scared to try.

'And he's cazy about you too.'

Chaelin might be wrong about marmite and the movie Cats, but she's definitely now wrong about anything regarding your and Jungkook.

That's it. You briefly close your eyes, inhale a deep breath then release it slowly. You start walking. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing the door open.

The tattoed blonde looks up from the counter the second you come into view. She smiles at the distance between you two. "You can come closer. I won't bite."

You clear your throat, stalking closer to her. "Is he-"

"He's in the back." she replies before you can finish you question. You close your mouth, clear your throat and nod your head.

"Thanks, Mijoo." she gives you a small wink, her smile easing your nerves like she had three months ago.

She watches you disappear. She shakes he head, her smile meeting her eyes. "I told him so."

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

Jungkook ignores the knock on his door at first. It's almost ten and the parlor is about to close. He just has to finish this last fucking sketch so he can grab his shit and go the fuck ho-

Knock knock.

He growls, exhasperation cursing through him. He runs a hand through his messy pile of hair, his rings tangling between the strands, making him wince in pain. "Come in." he grunts under his breath. The door opens. "Mijoo, I really have to finish-"

He stops dead in his tracks as soon as he sees you.

"Hey." you say after a moment of hesitation.

"Hey." he replies and although there's something inside, deep in his chest, shouting at him to stand up, run up to you and kiss your face while he tells you how beautiful you look right now and how happy he is to see that you're still here, he decides against it. "Listen, ____, I'm pretty busy-"

"No, you listen to me." you cut him off abruptly. He looks taken aback and is already opening his mouth to say something, but you're not having it. "Please, just... Let me talk."

Silence looms between the two of you for a while, a staring contest defying each other to back down. When you take one step inside and close the door behind you, he sighs and leans back against his chair.

You move towards him slowly, your lip caught between your lip going through your mind for the speech you'd been preparing the last few days. Your hands are sticky due to the the sugary treat liquifying in your hand. "I know there's no reason you should give me another chance after rejecting you in high school, and there's definitely no reason why you should forgive me for the way I shut you out a few weeks ago. You've been confessing your feelings to me since we were teenagers, and now it's my turn to tell you exactly how I feel about you."

"Jungkook, the truth is... I like you so much. I like you more than I've ever liked anyone. Ever. I said this was just a summer fling, and I was lying. I was lying because there's no way a simple summer fling could make me feel the way you do. There's no way a simple summer fling could make me want not just summer with you, but also fall and winter, and spring and every summer that comes next."

You hadn't realize when your eyes filling up with tears until the sight of him starts blurrying in front of you. His fingers reach yours, his thumb comforting on your skin. "____, it's okay-"

"I'm not done yet." you sniffle, gathering enough courage to continue. "I brought you a lemon sherbet because you said it was your favourite. But you also implied I was your favourite, and I want to keep being you favourite, but now it's already melted and-"

The corners of Jungkook's lips start pulling upward as he tugs you towards him, his heart loudly jumping inside his chest. "Shhh, come here."

He takes the ice cream from your hand and places it on his desk. Then he's helping you onto his lap, your head tucked under his chin and your arms wapping on their own around his neck.

He doesn't care about your sticky fingers or the wet stains of your tears in his shirt. The only thing he cares about is the fact that you're right there, letting him engulf your frame and drown in the scent and warmth he'd misses so much.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

The first day of June has Jungkook sweating and wishing for a haircut. Jungkook usually hates summer. He hates the fact that he has to shower at least twice a day, and the fact that the heat is almost unbearable to sleep in and also the fact that he's easily sunburnt.

This year, however, Jungkook likes summer a little bit more.

"Excuse me, miss. Do you have an appointment?" it's the fact that you're starting to wear those summer dresses he loves so much, and the fact that your skin glows under the sun like glitter, and also the fact that he can lick ice cream off of it whenever he desires.

"I am the appointment." your giggle is almost childlike, playing with Jungkook's heart strings. You shut the door behind you, nearing him. You also seem to always have that flush on your cheeks. Although he likes to think part of it is due to him. He doesn't say anything else as he puts his pencil down and instead turns around in the chair to have you immediately on top of his thighs.

Yeah, he also likes the path your lips trace from his cheek, to his jaw, ending at the juncture between his neck and his shoulder. It still makes his body quaver to this day.

"Let me see." he murmurs against you forhear, his hand already working on unbottoning the front of your dress.

"Mijoo hasn't left yet." you whisper back, your smile impossible to supress and the faint whimper impossible to hide when his fingers expose your breast and tug at the titanium barbell adorning the already hardened nub.

Jungkook loves knowing he was the one to do that, and also the only one to play with it. He doesn't hesitate when he dips his head. "As if we'd ever cared about that." he adds, wrapping your sole point in his mouth.

He fucks you on his studio table with your legs around his waist and his tongue playing with both your breasts, the tattoo sketches long forgotten, scattered on the floor as he whispers against your flesh something that sounds a lot like 'I love you'.

[ballorawan740]

SCP Scenarios: When they accidentally kill you

Requested by: okokok121 + @RitaRoseFromBBB

Main Masterlist | SCP Scenarios Masterlist | My Works Masterlist | Rules | Request | Socials | My Original Post

(Ok, I know you did ask for the doctors + Mikell and Strelnikov, but I've decided to add the SCPs in here if that's alright with you. And also, sorry if I didn't capture Strelnikov's attitude well as I'm not as familiar with him compared to Mikell, yet again I'm not familiar with Jack Bright's family other than TJ and 321)

Sorry if it wasn't up to your standards. I just felt that some of these characters weren't the type to kill the reader, even if it wasn't intentional.

WARNING: Slight Angst

Dr Simon Glass

Simon wouldn't be the one to accidentally kill you himself, but it's more of the situation he put you in without realising the full extent of the consequences. He was just busy writing his patients' reports, and you just strolled in his office to check upon him. Simon stopped what he was doing and smiled with you as you both ate your food in his ever so clean office. As you were about to leave, Glass requested you to deliver something to Jack Bright in which you did. You and Jack were close friends (not so surprising since you're both equally as mad as each other) so if Simon wanted to know where he is or if he needed to give him something, he would go to you first. You managed to deliver the parcel to Bright in 682's containment cell and you both laughed before you returned. Unfortunately, 682 was having a rough day due to being a subject to Bright's test (I would be too tbh) which caused him to become more aggressive than usual and attacked 3 researchers. One of them being you as 682 dragged you down to the acid bath with him and Jack rushed to save you. Bright wasn't able to and he had to fulfil;l his duty to tell Simon Glass that you passed as 682 had killed you during a test. Needless to say, Glass was forced to take time off with Bright due to this event and he became more distant for months to come. Bright had to keep it together just so Simon wouldn't have to lose the shred of sanity he had in him.

Dr Jack Bright

You and Bright were doing some tests on one of the more dangerous SCPs (no, it's not that giant mf lizard of that warrior killing machine) in which your job was to handle these creatures while Jack was doing all the lab stuff. The SCP you both were conducting your research on was ●●|●●●●●|●●|● (SCP 2521 - We're getting ripped tonight, RIP my friends) and you were doing all sorts of things which resulted in you summoning this creature out of the blue by accident. Bright had to drag you out away from the creature and you just stood there observing its behaviour until it noticed you. Jack Bright had to take you on the run yet again (cuz you do be stoopid and stubborn so all yall wanna do is stare at something that's gonna kill ya. JUST RUN BIATCH!!!) but the SCP managed to catch up with you both and snatched you before Bright could even get help. Jack was astonished and deeply depressed since the incident and was left increasingly agitated after every walking day and even Glass couldn't get him out of his shell. He would pretend that everything's fine, but deep down, everyone knows that he's not (that's a whole ass mood right there buddy). Bright was extremely guilty for making you research 2521 and tried to summon it again, but all other scientists stopped it.

Dr Alto Clef

Clef was just doing his job, managing all the Keter class SCPs with ease and without hesitation. You know this from first-hand experience on your very first day on the job 3 years ago and Clef took an interest in you so he took you under his wing. So on this mission, he's on, he wanted to take you with him so you went along (not like you'd say no to this madman anyways right?). It was a breach on one of the sites with a sh- ton of Keter class SCPs and your jobs were to exterminate/neutralise them and save all the other researchers in which your team did do well and were still alive. You on the other hand were killed in action by SCP 939 (NOW WHICH ONE OF YOU IDIOTS RELEASED MY PETS WITHOUT MY PERMISSION?!). Clef wasn't able to save you on time, but he managed to kill 2 of those SCPs. When he got back, he hid in his office and was depressed for 23.3 weeks and when he managed to drag himself out, he was bawling his eyes out. He deeply regretted taking you on a mission with him and swore an oath that if he were to ever take another person under his wing (probs in like 50 years), he would do anything in his power to not take them on a life-threatening mission.

Dr Benjamin Kondraki

You were out with Kondraki, just laying on the grass like you normally do as you just watched Kondraki take photographs of various and random stuff. Not long later, you asked him if he could teach you how to become such an avid photographer like him, so he did. However, little did you and Kondraki know that his butterfly friends felt danger lurking around the area you were in and quickly transformed into a threatening SCP to defend you both. Lurking around the woods were uncontained 939s running loose on the ground in which the booterflies attacked it. One of the red lizards was ready to pounce onto Kondraki to which you ran and pushed him out of the way (BAD DOGGO ))),:<). Luckily he was unharmed, but you, on the other hand, was heavily injured so Kondraki rushed you back to the foundation's medic. You died there shortly after and Kondraki blamed himself for getting you hurt on a harmless visit to the woods for some photographs. Bright and Clef begged Glass to do some psychological evaluation on Kondraki despite him telling them that he needs some time alone before he could do such things.

O5 Council Mikell Bright

When you're with Mikell, he would be his true self, being honest and relaxed since you're his most trusted partner. Moreover, he would tell you everything about what the O5 Council has been doing and their top secrets and you would always keep your lips sealed. The other members are wary of this at first but soon warm up to you since you're one of the most trusted individuals. Being with the cowboy is quite entertaining and you'll be quite protected being with him, so most of the time, you get free reign over the foundation, however, you still had to obey the rules as you weren't exactly a member of the O5 council and that would also help you from making people think you're sus for being treated so differently. That day was one of the days where your freedom got the better of you as you were on a mission with Mikell and he was about to aim at the target until you pushed him out of the way from danger. He quickly gained his composure and tried to shoot the anomaly behind you which he missed and shot you instead. Mikell was in shock and tried to get the medics, but by the time they arrived, you've already passed. Jack had to check up on his brother regularly to see how he's doing and to make sure he doesn't fall off the edge, reminding him that you wouldn't want to see him this way.

Agent Dmitri Arkadeyevich Strelnikov

As an agent, Strelnikov's life and his closest friends and relatives would be on the line. He wouldn't know when, where or how he would die and is in constant fear of losing everyone around him, especially you. One time, he took you on a mission with him since you were trained under him and he felt that you were ready to go onto your first-ever mission (well too bad, it's your last mission since y'all just suck at your jobs and this poor man has to drag you up from hell and y'all just fall back in) and so you guys went and attempted to gain information and track down some SCPs. Dmitri had to save you a few times since you didn't heed his advice and looked behind your back and that one time he left you on your own, you were murdered by a ruthless group from one of the GOIs. This, of course, deeply saddened agent Strelnikov as he was washed away by the guilt he had from leaving you to stand by your own 2 feet. You were a bright and gentle person who always looked up to him, always eager to learn and never want to fail him. These traits are what drew you to him and he was hoping to have you on his team permanently, however, that dream was long gone (just like your non-existent brain cells trying to keep your life together so y'all don't do stupid things) as you were snatched away from him in an instant. He wrote the report once he went back to the foundation and locked himself up for so long the doctors had to get him out (like your guardians whenever you don't wake up in the mornings).

Extras:

SCP 073 (Cain)

You and Cain were strolling around site 17 until a containment breach happened. Cain had to drag you by your arm since you froze (like a deer in headlights XD) and didn't react to anything since you were afraid. Luckily you did manage to get your senses back together and ran with him. Not long later, a Keter class SCP came charging at you and in a panic, Cain pushed you aside without a glance which caused another SCP to kill you since you were blocking the way. He looked over to you to see that you were wounded, lifted you up, and found a medic. Cain blamed himself for not looking carefully and had he done that, you wouldn't be dying. By the time the medic and you both arrived, you were already at the brink of death and when 343 finally arrived, you were long gone. 343 had to calm 073 down from trying to seek revenge once again but he can't due to the overwhelming guilt he had on him. 343 managed to ease his mind a bit which caused him to blackout. The researchers had to put him under their watchlist to make sure he doesn't do anything stupid (like you when you're studying for your important exams).

SCP 076 (Abel)

It was a normal day for you and Abel to hang around until this one mf guard angered Abel to which caused a containment breach. He went on a rampage (you do be here like Hercules! Hercules! XD) in which you had to try and calm him down. By the time you went to the main part of the facility, you saw many of the D-classes and researchers beheaded (like the previous queens in- never mind). When you had found Abel attempting to slaughter a guy, you jumped in front of the victim and by the time Abel realised that you were there, his sword cut you open in half (KO! 10 points to Gryffindor). He was overwhelmed with guilt and anxiety about him killing you by accident and returned to his box as demanded by the MTF members. The scientists noticed a change in Abel's behaviour and never questioned it. Those who knew what had happened never mentioned it in fear of another breach and left him be.

SCP 999 (Tickle Monster)

It was an ideal Saturday night at the foundation. You and our adorable 999 was wandering around the facility minding your own business until some madman came charging into the foundation. The alarm for the breach went on and everyone was confused since there weren't any dangerous SCPs on the loose. As it turns out, it was an intruder from one of the other GOIs trying to kidnap some of the SCPs. You and 999 just so happened to be in the exact same spot as the intruder and was holding a weapon of some sort. Realising what's happening, 999 pushed you out of the way just as the intruder fired her weapon which missed you both. One of the agents caught up with both of you and tried to shoot the intruder but ended up shooting you just as you got up which killed you. 999 never greeted any visitors in his cell ever again for quite some time and the researchers attempted to bribe him but failed.

SCP 682 (Hard to Destroy Reptile)

You were requested to take part in a test with 682 and another Keter class SCP in a test room and your job was to make sure 682 weren't allowed to lash out at the researchers because of this test. However, this certain Keter class SCP has decided that it wants to attack you in which 682 shoved you aside to protect you. The researchers ran in to save you but the other SCP managed to pounce on you and suffocated you to the brink of death. 682 was about to take a chonki bite out of that SCP but instead, he bit you instead, killing you instantly. He regretted every decision he has ever made and never attacked the foundation staff for months.

SCP 049 (Plague Doctor)

This doctor was just minding his own business until some dumbass researchers rushed into his room like some fanboys trying to get their noona's signatures. 049 was entertained by this remark but was soon agitated as they disturbed his work and wouldn't leave him alone. So, 049 used his lethal touch on some of the researchers as the rest ran. Luckily, they ran into you, so you managed to calm down the angri bird doctor. Unfortunately, that didn't go as planned as he had mistaken you as one of the other fanboys and stabbed you right into your heart. As soon as he had realised what he's done, he rushed you into his cell and performed surgery on you. Mid-surgery, he soon realised that you were losing too much blood and died right then and there. He mourned for quite some time as the other researchers were severely punished as it had led to your death which could've been avoided.

SCP 035 (Possessive Mask)

Like the other SCPs mentioned in the list, there was a test that resulted in your death. 035 was instructed to change to another human as the black goo was secreted from the mask and so he obeyed as you were slouching by the corner of the test room. Except for this time, it is being worn by a taller and more muscular man who was a wanted man due to his former job as a mercenary. As the researchers watched intently, the mask soon felt slightly overpowered but was resolved quickly due to his evergrowing abilities and experience in possessing those who come near it or is wearing the mask. The mask spoke of the discomfort of being overpowered to which the researchers took note of this statement and watched. You were somewhat concerned to you went closer to your beloved partner to check up on him. However, upon coming closer to 035, he switched his usual persona to the man wearing it, becoming more aggressive and unable to control this body, killing the first person he sees, which was you. This stunned the researchers as the guards tried to pry him off you. When they managed to get him off, you were no longer breathing. In the next interview with 035, he displayed extreme guilt and sadness of his inability to possess the man well enough to control him fully and made a request for him to be left alone for a while.

SCP 096 (Shy Guy)

You both met up during the breach a few steps away from 096's cell. He was wandering around to find you while covering his elongated face. All the other researchers were outside trying their best to stay calm and deal with this massive breach until they just saw 096 walking about looking for someone. It instantly clicked in their mind and offered to look for you as long as he goes back to his cell afterwards to which he agreed. Upon finding you, another SCP was attempting to attack you but was soon neutralised by the other MTFs. 096 managed to push you away beforehand but his throw was so strong that you died on the impact when you fell to the ground (you really did get yeeted lmao). As 096 and the others ran towards you to make sure you were ok, you had stopped breathing and 096 screamed in sadness which flooded the whole field. As he was contained back to his cell, they noticed a small detail about 096 which was him wailing every now and again about your death.

SCP 105 (Iris)

You and Iris were just strolling down site 17 to meet with Cain and Dr James Dantensen. Once you've arrived at the agreed location within site 17, you guys were just catching up with old times and sharing your memories and stories about your everyday lives. However, this jolly moment only lasted for so long as someone had breached the containment to target you as you were close to a lot of the SCPs, especially the humanoid ones. As you, along with the others, ran to safety, the enemy caught up with you and threatened you for your knowledge of the SCPs. Iris finally caught up with you just in time to see the commotion and shoved you out of the way. Cain managed to shield you from another guy who attempted to shoot you in which Iris retaliates by throwing a knife back, but instead, injured you instead. She ran over and screamed as you slowly blacked out. Cain had to carry you over as Dantensen was calling the medics and you barely managed to survive. During your days in the hospital, the suspect managed to suffocate you which alarmed everyone. During the days that followed, Iris had been seeking out revenge as Cain tried to make her stay calm and think more rationally.

SCP 106 (Old Man)

It was another day spending some time in 106's pocket dimension as you relaxed with him. You both talked about your past experiences and the obstacles you both had overcome. Once you both were done relaxing (aka never you lazy catto so get up and do something useful for once cuz I don't wanna see yall get screamed at by your family and non-existent friends (jk jk i hope they're treating you well)), 106 took you back to his containment cell and just sat there as the researchers looked at you both blankly. 096 caused a containment breach which, of course, freed you both from 106's cell and you made a run for it (RUN FOREST RUN!). As you and 096 came into contact, 106 tried to put himself between the both of you, knowing what 096 was capable of. Unfortunately, this resulted in 106 being attacked and you died from looking at his face (wear a damn mask 096, you're in the middle of a pandemic). Saddened by the news, 106 seek revenge but was briefly neutralised and shipped to another facility so it wouldn't cause another breach due to his rage.

[frodo-with-glasses]

More Reading Thoughts: The King of the Golden Hall

Rohan lesssgoooooo!!

Aragorn’s sleeping habits continue to crack me up. Man lies flat on his back and conks out within seconds of lying down. I’m sorry but that’s hilarious

“‘Speak, Legolas!’ said Gandalf. ‘Tell us what you see there before us!’” Exposition Machine, go!

BRO?? “He is one of the Mearas, unless my eyes are cheated by some spell” was actually a line from SOME RANDOM GUARD AT EDORAS, and they gave it to Legolas, I’m HOWLING

Is Minas Tirith called “Mundburg” in the Rohirric language?? “Burg” means “city”, and I’m guessing “mund” might be “mound” like “tall/mountain”?? I’ll probably have to look at the appendices and check.

(Edit: Unless I am blind, I have checked the appendices and they didn’t say anything about this. Help??)

(Edit two: I have been informed that it DOES mean Minas Tirith! My only mistake was relying on Latin etymology. X-D [Although knowing Tolkien, I wouldn’t put it past him to construct a name using Latin root words and then go back and create an entire fictional etymology for it and go “no, see, this is what it REALLY means—”])

HAMAAAAAAAAAA

Okay lets-get-ready-to-ramble was very right, Aragorn’s hesitation to hand over Anduril is VERY funny. Expect a comic.

Movie!Gandalf: “Oh. *puppy dog eyes* You would not part an old man from his walking stick.” Book!Gandalf: “FOOLS. DISCOURTEOUS WRETCHES. I’M NOT BUDGING AN INCH WITHOUT MY STICK. THEODEN CAN DRAG HIMSELF OUT HERE TO MEET ME FOR ALL I CARE. THE INSOLENCE.”

Aragorn refuses to give up Anduril until Gandalf convinces him. This is Best Friend Energy. Two seconds later, Gandalf refuses to give up his staff, and Aragorn laughs at him. This is PEAK Best Friend Energy.

Theoden really told Gandalf “tbh I was glad you were dead”

Wormtongue insulted Galadriel and Gimli is immediately like “YOU WANNA FIGHT BRO”

DID GANDALF HIT GRIMA WITH LIGHTNING?? HELLO??? ROFLOLOL

“Wormtongue remained lying on the floor” ASDFGHJKLSJDDBK

MISS KIESHA. MISS KIESHA.

OH HE NEED SOME MILK

*BLASTS CARAMELLDANSEN OVER WORMTONGUE ON THE FLOOR*

Do you want more? I can go on.

Okay okay be serious, hooooo—

EOWYNNNNNNN

As far as I can tell, Theoden’s transformation in this chapter is a bit of a treatise on the power of words. Saruman’s magic worked through Grima’s words, over many long years, to poison Theoden’s mind and cripple his body. Gandalf’s healing, likewise, works through words; and though it takes effect far slower than in the movie, it’s remarkably quick compared to the poisoning. Theoden goes from hobbling out his door, to standing tall in the sunlight, to taking up his sword, to commanding his people, all because Gandalf said, “You can—and what’s more, you must.”

��Do not send your faithful Grima away!” Talking in third person again. Gollum, Gollum.

My favorite character in this chapter is the unnamed guard who scooped up water in his helmet to wash the stones Wormtongue spat on. You, sir, are my hero.

Gimli, about the horse emblazoned on his shield: “At least I’m the one carrying this horse instead of the other way around!”

Eowyn already thinks Aragorn is cute. That was fast.

“There is Eowyn, daughter of Eomund, [Eomer’s] sister. She is fearless and high-hearted. All love her. Let her be as lord of the Eorlingas, while we are gone.” HAMA REALLY SAID “RESPECT WOMEN”

I like Eomer and Gimli’s friendly rivalry. More writing about that, please! It’s extremely funny.

Shadowfax running around on the plain while everyone else is busy planning things is a huge mood.

And NOW Gandalf throws off his cloak and reveals the white robes. So dramatic.

[melongumi]

MDZS for the blorbo ask meme!

blorbo (favorite character, character I think about the most)

Being full of Headcanons and Opinions and Opinions on Headcanons and also, you know, multiple WIPS (and also a tendency to try to make every AU idea About Him sooner or later), I think I'm obligated to admit that this one is Wen Ning. Wangxian also, because I Am Their Target Audience.

scrunkly (my “baby”, character that gives me cuteness aggression, character that is So Shaped)

I have no idea... maybe Sizhui because Zhen Fanxing did a very good job making expressions that say “i am a Nice Young Man :)” A+ would pinch his cheeks like an obnoxious auntie and put too much food on his plate. Also, from a doylistic standpoint, am always down to see him go off to destroy people with dark magics or bangin’ qin solos or whatever else. A good boy.....

Also Fairy, who is after all a fat and also very fluffy dog.

scrimblo bimblo (underrated/underappreciated fave)

Wen Qing and Jiang Cheng....... my beloved blorbos-in-law. Outside of very specific scenarios, I find them underutilized in fandom. Also, when they do appear, that doesn’t guarantee that they’re being written with the full Jiang-Cheng-Wen-Qing-ness that they deserve >:0 !!! (also, the concentration of jc-bashing in newer fics on ao3 just keeps... rising. hey what the fuck. @ the responsible parties how does it feel to be history’s biggest cowards)

Honorable mention for Every dead wen and jiang that isn’t part of the ruling family, plus a particular shout-out to Wei Changze because canon characters also forget that he exists.

glup shitto (obscure fave, character that can appear in the background for 0.2 seconds and I won’t shut up about it for a week)

Whenever I am looking for a reference in the original novel by searching for Wen Ning's name, I realize all over again how infrequently and briefly he actually appears in text despite spending basically the whole book within a mile or two of our heroes. Unfair.

Also, if anyone ever actually Did anything with Yanling Daoren, I would lose it tbh. [points] i wanna know what’s up with THIS asshole

poor little meow meow (“problematic”/unpopular/controversial/otherwise pathetic fave)

Lan Xichen and Xue Yang, not because Lan Xichen is particularly controversial, but because these two are the most enjoyable to look at and think “you are the ultimate architect of this problem you are having. poor little meow meow”

Mind you--Lan Xichen isn’t the ultimate architect of his own problems, but he is the project manager so like. You know.

horse plinko (character I would torment for fun, for whatever reason)

If meow meows are for making their own problems, plinko is for outside problems being inflicted upon them. Nie Mingjue and Jin Guangyao are both so good for this in such very different ways. They are such stinky bastard men. Jin Guangyao is god's perfect killing machine but can't stop anyone from picking him up and messing his hair. Usually does make half of his own problems but makes sure they're everyone else's problem too. Honestly, the less in-control of a situation he is, the better off his long-term happiness is likely to be. That he hates every second of it when it's ultimately good for him? Funnie.

Nie Mingjue, meanwhile, needs to be shrunk in the wash and felted in the dryer. Its character building,

eeby deeby (character I would send to superhell)

I don’t think saying Jin Guangshan for this is creative or funny, but like... it’s true.

Also Xiao Xingchen, but in his case because casting him as Castiel and literally sending him to literal superhell would, in fact, be hilarious. 🙏

[caligobeltrao]

Brahms with an S/O who knits

So I rewatched The Boy... head empty, only Brahms. And apparently he’s the only one I flipping write for I’m sorry I swear I want to write for more people... Also my inbox is empty so if you have requests... please send them? <3 

SO first and foremost, let’s set the scene. You have just been hired as a nanny in the English countryside for a doll named Brahms, there’s no cell service and no wifi, so tbh it’s a great time to knit. 

You fall into his routine quickly, and add your own little knitting breaks in where you can, mostly at night or during music time. 

You start out with small, simple stuff; things you know how to make really easily and don’t take up too much brain space, like dishcloths or a plain garter stitch scarf (or two... or ten...). Things you’ve made a thousand times before. Things that you don’t really take notice of if they go missing. 

Of course they do, but it’s easy to chuck a scarf you’re not going to wear in a drawer and then forget you ever made it. 

It is a little more noticeable when you decide you want to gift Malcolm a particular thing you’ve made (since there’s really nobody else to give things to around here) but can’t find the one you had in mind. 

Which, side note, if it is something like a scarf, he would wear it at every grocery drop off he does from then on. You can’t change my mind. 

But obviously that gets boring. Eventually you ask Malcolm if with his next grocery run he could bring you the yarn you’d want to make a nice blanket. The manor can get chilly, after all, and he agrees. 

When THAT goes missing, you definitely notice. And, assuming you get the warning that Brahms is playful, you can ask for it back and you’ll find it neatly folded up on his bed the next day. Which is when you decide to start making things for Brahms. 

It’s perfect! It’s a judgement-free way to practice your skills, AND you can make you and the doll matching sweaters. How fucking cute is that??? 

Malcolm thinks this is... slightly more odd. Worrying, maybe. Especially if you, like me, would have taken to treating the doll like a real child from the get-go. 

But you’re keeping yourself busy, he can’t fault you for that lol. 

Anyway, Brahms LOVES this turn of events. He loves seeing you and him (his effigy at least) in matching sweaters! He loves the little socks you knit for him, especially his new sleep time socks! He loves how proud you are when you slip his little knitted cap and scarf and gloves on! 

What he doesn’t like is when something is new or difficult for you and watching you rip out your work because you dropped a stitch, or looking at a previously finished work a few weeks later and deciding you hate it so you rip it out or just throw it away if you don’t think you can salvage the yarn. 

Well... he doesn’t mind you throwing them out, so much, because he’ll just... snatch that right up. It’s your work! You made it for him and it’s beautiful! How dare you be so critical on yourself! >:( 

Even worse is the disappointment the first time you try to knit him a sweater and you measured the doll incorrectly so it doesn’t fit. :( He hates seeing you sad. 

Back to your perspective though, it’s much nicer to have someone (something) to knit for. Plus, he has to wear and appreciate your items. He’s a doll, he’ll wear whatever you put on him and in your mind, he loves it lol. So there’s no chance of the resentment or anger or disappointment you get when you make something for a family member and they just never use it. 

You also knit him his own blanket for his bed, which real Brahms obviously takes immediately. That’s what started all of this, after all. And you would take the time to stitch a little B on one of the corners, to make it all his. 

You aren’t surprised by it going missing. In fact, you’re happy that Brahms likes your things. Like I mentioned with the disappointment, you’ve most likely felt this before in your life, so it’s odd that a ghost (as that’s honestly the least weird conclusion here) appreciates what you do more than some of the people you know. 

Also imagine knitting with the doll on your lap. 🥺 Cute. Cute cute cute. 

But then you meet real Brahms. And that’s weird, like I know there’s a lot weird here, but you can’t just make a seamless transition into this, there’s an adjustment period, so you stop knitting. 

Which he Does Not Like. 

Like sir??? What did you expect? 

Well he expected everything to be the same but it’s him and not the doll, really. 

Which he makes pretty obvious fairly quickly. He wants a matching sweater, and he asks you outright. “You make such pretty things... can I have one? Please? I’ve been very good.” 

So of course you do. You decide to take a pattern and color you already made for you and the doll and make it for him, so the three of you could match. Which is weird in and of itself, but adult life is already so goddamn weird, this might as well happen. 

And that starts a new cycle. 

He loves that he can now show you appreciation for the items you make him. He can thank you much easier, no worries of frightening you with a disembodied voice from a “ghost.” He can wear what you make, and he does, all the time. He’ll give you kisses too, since you’re being good. 

And he’s always excited every time you gift him something new, like it’s never happened before, as if he HASN’T seen you working on it for the past month. Each and every time, he has such love and joy in his heart and he will Let You Know damn it. 

Legit always has something you made on. If it’s warm, he has a light cardigan you made. If it’s cold, a sweater and his blanket. And either way he’ll have a pair of your socks on. Nonnegotiable. 

Honestly he gets super worried if you go to wash his things. What if it falls apart? You assure him you know what you’re doing, but it still takes probably six to seven washes for him to get less tense about something going in the washing machine. 

You will never be able to toss out anything ever again. Dropped stitch? A tie come undone and it’s unraveling? A few weeks of looking at it making you wanna cry? Just doesn’t look like you wanted it to? Nope! It’s Brahms’s now. And he’ll love it and cherish it as if it’s the only gift you’ve ever given him. 

Literally no room for you to be insecure about the things you make. Only love. You’d think he’d get tired or bored of it, but it’s a physical representation of time and care you’re putting into him and his care. He clings to that. 

The only time he won’t interrupt you for your attention is when you knit. Because he understands that’s also a type of attention. He does like to be in the room with you when you do it though. And you can get him to read while you do it, so that’s nice. 

He will be a little jealous/salty about anything you’ve given Malcolm though lol. 

[angrylizardjacket]

i’ll be in the front row {Joe Mazzello}

Anon asked: lil prompt I thought of while doing my laundry: imagine meeting Joe while you’re both doing your laundry at a laundromat. it’s nyc, so apartments with full wash & dryer are hard to come by. joe is always running lines with himself, and you both sometimes loan each other quarters when one of you runs out.

Anon asked: tbh I don’t have anything specific to request, but I am begging you to please write more for Joe. srsly you write him so well & he deserves more content!!! 🐚 

A/N: 3269 words. my little garbage brain had to yell at me not to write this like the laundry scene from Dr Horrible. BIG FLUFF. set around undrafted. hope you enjoy. PLEASE leave feedback!! i love this so so very much omfg.

----

You always see him on Sundays, eleven in the morning, like clockwork. Dark sunglasses, fancy backpack, but nondescript clothes; sweater and jeans, baseball jersey and jeans, laundry day clothes if you’ve ever seen them. He’s a little familiar, but you’re not sure why. Sometimes he’s wearing a cap, but not with any sort of consistency, at least not in the six months since you’d been coming there. 

For the record, you’re not staring, he’s the only person who comes in at the exact same time as you, give or take fifteen minutes, and he, like you, always waits for his laundry. It’s only been in the past few months that you’d even started recognizing each other, smiling and giving the other a wave across the machines. It’s harmless, it’s people watching, it’s routine.

One morning, he’s sitting on his washing machine, with a pen in his mouth and a stack of papers in one hand. His usual sunglasses are propped up on his head, which isn’t an unusual occurrence when he reads - is it weird that you know that? Kind of. He’s highlighting something, mouthing whatever he’s reading too fast for you to catch, and anyways, you’re trying not to stare. You’re half paying attention to a kitschy game on your phone since your washing is almost done, and you heave your damp clothes into the dryer.

“Damnit,” patting your pockets again, and searching through your change, you can’t help but scowl and come to an annoying conclusion. All you have is a fifty, and the change machine in the laundromat only spits out quarters.

“You okay?” It’s the guy with the script, your quiet laundry buddy, looking at you with slight concern, pen still in his mouth.

“Yeah,” you huff a sigh, putting on a strained smile, “two quarters short for the dryer.” Usually you had smaller bills, or just remembered to bring the right change, “can you watch my stuff while I go to the gas station to get change?”

“I can cover two quarters,” he offers easily with a slight smile, pulling the pen from his mouth and putting it, the highlighter, and the stack of papers, onto the dryer after he jumps from it. You stumble through trying to brush him off and refuse graciously, but he’s already elbow-deep in his backpack, telling you it’s no trouble.

“I owe you,” you say with half a laugh, and he shares in your amusement.

“Yeah, I’ll hold you to that,” he replies with an amiable sarcasm, which has you laughing. After you start the dryer, however, you turn back and he’s regarding you with a frown, leaning on the washing machine with his stuff in it.

“Do I have something on my face?” You ask with surprising uncertainty, and he’s quick to clear the frown from his face as he shakes his head.

“No, it’s just kind of weird that we’ve been coming here for so long but never... like, spoken.” He muses, and you feel yourself growing surprised. He offers his hand. “Joe.”

“Y/N,” you say, shaking his hand firmly, and he quietly repeats your name back to himself, like he’s committing it to memory. Something warms in your chest, and you can’t help but look at the stack of papers he’d been focusing intently on, “may I ask what you’re working on?” And he looks confused for the barest moment, quickly followed by excitement, and then what you recognize as him very deliberately restraining that excitement into something more polite.

“It’s a script,” and he kind of sounds... apologetic?

“And...?” You prompt, before backpeddling, “I mean, if you don’t wanna talk about it, that’s fine, I mean we technically just met -” and he’s waiving you off goodnaturedly.

“No, I know, I know,” he assures, “I just... another white guy writing a script in New York?” He makes a face, “get a real personality, am I right?” He laughs self-deprecatingly, but it seems to hit a little too close to home for him, and his expression falls. It’s a sentiment he’s been on the receiving end of far too many times.

“What’s it about?” You ask, gentle and genuinely curious, and his eyebrows raise in surprise as he meets your gaze. Tentatively hopeful, he explains that he’s on the fourth draft of it, that it’s loosely based on his brother’s experiences trying to make it into the Major Leagues in baseball. Most of it goes over your head, but you can’t help but be intrigued. 

“I’m not super big into baseball,” you admit as he’s winding down, “but it sounds awesome, dude; let me know when it’s in theaters and I’ll be in the front row.” He grins at that.

You exchange phone numbers a month later, the pair of you getting take out at the fast food joint across the road from the laundromat, so you could still at least keep somewhat of an eye on your clothes. He’s in between drafts of the script, and they’re actually in preproduction, and you realise oh, he’s actually serious about this.

“See, that’s the difference,” you tell him, leaning your elbows on the table and pointing a finger at him, “the difference is that you follow through.”

“What?” He laughs, not yet following your train of thought.

“Every other white guy in New York could write a script, but none of them would follow through and get it made; you’re ambitious, Joe.”

“I’m not ambitious, I’m just lucky,” he shrugs, a blush creeping up his cheeks, but you won’t let it slide.

“Luck will only get you so far,” you tut, and he gives you a strange look.

“Have you... never seen Jurassic Park?”

“When I was younger,” you shrugged.

“Or The Social Network?”

“I’ve really been meaning to, why?” 

“No reason,” Joe shakes his head with a disbelieving grin, and doesn’t bring it up again.

A few weeks later, he’s late by almost a full half an hour, which you’re not particularly bothered by, you get the impression that he’s a busy guy, but he runs in, laundry basket in hand, apologizing breathlessly. 

“No need to apologise,” you tell him with a bright smile, putting your phone away, “everything okay?”

“Budget meeting ran late,” he explains, gracelessly lumping his clothes into the washing machine and throwing a few tide pods in along with them, “filming’s so close, I just lost track of time.”

“Oh, shit really? Wait have you already cast it?” You asked with a surprisingly genuine excitement; over the weeks, you’ve become rather invested in this project.

“Yeah, didn’t I tell you?” He asked with a grin, “casting was finalized two weeks ago; we start rehearsals next Saturday.”

“That’s so exciting!” You enthused, before laughing, “anyone I’d recognize?” And it’s mostly a joke, but Joe gives pause, evaluating you before he pushes start on his washing machine.

“I don’t know,” he answers genuinely, before conceding, “I mean, apart from me -”

“Acting, writing, and directing; does that make you a triple threat?” You asked coyly, and he breaks out into grin.

“And producing,” he reminds, and you make an impressed noise, nodding.

“Quadruple threat, excuse me.”

“But honestly, I don’t know if you’d recognize them; do you know,” and he goes back to the topic at hand, frowning a little, “Aaron Tveit?” You’re a little speechless, before answering.

“Not personally,” you find yourself answering, which gets Joe to laugh, “shit, dude, from Broadway?” And Joe’s wearing a proud little smile when he nods in confirmation, “and the Les Mis movie?”

“The very same,” Joe agrees, and your mouth hangs agape, “I told you, this is a real movie, I’m not filming this in my backyard,” after a beat, he licks his lips and jumps to sit on the washing machine, “have you seriously never googled me?”

“Why would I?” You asked, and he huffs a disbelieving laugh, shaking his head again in that way that you don’t quite understand. “Should I?” You finally ask, and Joe shrugs, smiling bright and carefree. He’s even swinging his legs, ankles crossed.

“I’m not a murderer, if that’s what’s got you worried,” he muses with a surprisingly carefree grin, “I mean, I’m kind of glad that you haven’t, it means you actually like me for me, you know?”

“Of course I do,” you answer automatically, and Joe’s expression turns fond, “I really like you, dude,” you explain, “I’m kind of in awe of what you’re accomplishing.” And you mean it with your whole heart, “if you’d prefer I didn’t google you, I won’t; I don’t make a habit of googling my friends, I won’t start with you.” When you say this, something about him relaxes, and he hops off the washing machine.

“Wanna grab lunch?” He asks with a smile, which you mirror without hesitation, and agree.

They’re filming out of state, which Joe tells you the week before he leaves, and you hadn’t realised how much you would miss him until the first Sunday rolls around, and you’re sitting in the laundromat alone.

Your phone goes off with a notification at exactly eleven.

It’s a photo of Joe and Aaron Tveit in baseball jerseys, covered in dirt, grinning.

[HOLY SHIT] you send back, following it up with [IS THAT] and then you wait a moment before adding [QUADRUPLE THREAT JOE MAZZELLO??] 

[christ 😳😅🥰] he sends back, and something about his restrained but still obviously flustered response has your heart skip a beat. [is it weird that i miss the laundromat?]

[yes 😂]

[and you of course i miss you too] he’s quick to follow it up with, and your own smile grows wider. You take a photo of the empty laundromat and draw in a terrible stick figure impression of him and send it back.

[miss u too haha] and you give pause before sending [hey if u ever wanna send other prod photos.......] [u don’t just have to send them on sunday]

[you haven’t signed an NDA 😂]

[joseph who am i gonna tell??]

[your other friends idk]

[my lips are ZIPPED 🤐] [photos for personal use only]

[personal use????? 😘😘]

[dont be GROSS]

[but i wanna be gross!!]

So now you’re flustered in the middle of the laundromat, completely at a loss as to how to respond to that. 

[are u flirting with me joseph?] you send back, and you watch the three little typing dots as they hover for a very long time.

[only if you’re into it]

Oh. 

[the FIRST WEEK YOU’RE AWAY FROM THE LAUNDROMAT AND YOU’RE PULLING THIS SHIT] [i AM into it but fuck 😳😅]

[I’VE BEEN FLIRTING WITH YOU FOR WEEKS]

Oh!

[OH]

[THE FIRST WEEK I’M AWAY FROM THE LAUNDROMAT AND YOU FINALLY PICK UP ON IT???]

[go direct ur baseball movie 🥰😅] you send, and tuck your phone away, feeling rather like a fool, but a pleased fool nonetheless, and you’re grinning for the rest of the day.

Photos are exchanged often after that, usually selfies, or photos of where either of you were, what you were doing, the flirting turning absolutely less subtle with each day that passes until you’re just complimenting each other, and mentioning occasionally how you miss the other.

When he sends a photo of himself posing against the fence of the dugout in a way that showed off his ass, you can’t help but make it your lock screen, though it’s quickly followed by a video and a text that reads [i was told i have to send you this too,,, for context].

“This feels undignified,” says a strangely familiar voice from off-screen, presumably filming, while Joe was trying to ask for opinions on how he should pose.

“This is undignified,” comes someone else’s response, and the camera swings around to reveal an amused Tyler Hoechlin, opening a water bottle, “this Y/N must be real cute.” In the background, a few others, vaguely recognizable, all in baseball uniforms, snicker.

“They are!” Joe answered defiantly, grinning, one leg up against the wire, looking over his shoulder, “are you filming me?” The camera flips around and you get a pretty glorious angle directly up Aaron Tveit’s nose.

“No -”

The video stops abruptly, and you’re all but wheezing with laughter, though all you send back is;

[so worth it] [ur ass *chef’s kiss*]

[THANK YOU] [you get it] [knew there was a reason i liked you so much]

The moment he gets back to New York, he asks you out to dinner. Of course you say yes.

For your third date, he offers to cook you dinner, and watch a movie, prefaced with a question that you’re surprised he still asks; have you really not googled me? And the honest answer you always give: no.

His apartment has a lot of movie posters, of movies you’ve heard of but never seen, or seen when you were very little.

“Big movie buff, obviously,” you note with a little smile, and he raises his eyebrows in amusement at your observation. Even moreso when you excitedly coo about how you haven’t seen Jurassic Park in so long when he suggests it.

“Your self restraint is godlike, babe,” he snickers, and you’re not quite sure what he means, you’re kind of just happy to be here. 

He cooks dinner, and you both sit down in front of his alarmingly big TV, and you feel a warm rush of nostalgia at the opening. You’re eating quietly, watching with rapt attention, but you can feel Joe watching you expectantly. 

“What’s up?” You ask, turning to him, confused, and his smile grows a little wider, and his gaze flicks to the screen for a moment, and then back to you.

“Just waiting for it to click.”

“For what to click?” 

“Babe,” and he says it like he can’t quiet believe it, his gaze now focused on the screen where the kids, Tim and Lex, were being introduced, “that’s me.” And follow his gaze and holy shit. A lot of things start making a lot more sense.

He’s not sure what he’s expecting your reaction to be, but the way your face lights up, and the unbridled enthusiasm and compliments that pour out of you, was not it, but he’s definitely not complaining. 

“Wait!” Your eyes sparkle as you look around his apartment, the movie posters he had everywhere now having a completely different meaning, “all these...?”

“Every single one,” he agrees, a little abashed, suddenly humble, and you grin when you finally look back at him.

“I didn’t think I could be more awed by you, but dude,” you enthused, “that’s cool as hell! You’re cool as hell!” But you take a deep breath, putting your plates onto the coffee table, sitting as close to him as you could, “but I would have thought the world on you even if you hadn’t done any of this,” and he tries to brush it off, but you’re adamant, “no, I mean it, I like you for you, Joe, not for what you’ve done, but... for who you are.”

“You’re gonna make me blush,” he shoots for serious, but misses entirely thanks to his pleased little smile.

“Good,” you tell him seriously, and kiss both of his pink cheeks before kissing him. Your dinner might get a little cold after that, but you can always reheat it. 

You comfort him over the weeks it takes to edit him film, Undrafted, though he’ll never let you see too much of the final product; he wants you to see it in cinemas first.

It’s still kind of surreal to you that Joe Mazzello is both a movie star, and your boyfriend. He’s still friends with Laura Dern, and he also spends eight dollars a week at a laundromat to wash his clothes. Bizarre. But you kind of like how down-to-earth he is. 

What’s more bizarre is when he invites you to the red carpet premiere of his movie.

“Me?” You squeaked, and he seemed a little confused at your hesitation, his hands on your shoulders.

“You,” he nodded slowly, not understanding why you’re suddenly nervous.

“For real?”

“Yeah, of course I want you there; you said so yourself, you’d be in the front row, right?” He smiled a little and you could feel your heart melt.

“You remember that?”

“Of course I do,” he tells you gently, “it’s one of the reasons I liked you in the first place.” He’s so earnest; you agree easily.

The red carpet is a whole other world, you find, dressed to the nines, styled by someone you don’t know, cameras flashing in your face -

“Is this Y/N?” Tyler Hoechlin is saying your name. What universe is this? Joe was blushing furiously with his arm around you as the cast made their way over.

“Finally, a face for a name,” and that’s Aaron Tveit; you have to remind yourself not to get star struck. Instead, you smile and offer your hand to them both, which they shake, smiling and greeting you warmly. 

“Don’t embarrass me, you assholes,” Joe warned, though his tone was amused, and the others chuckled, clapping him on the shoulder.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, Mister Director,” Aaron assured.

“You’re good at doing that on your own,” Tyler added, and Joe gave him the finger, but held you a little tighter. 

“Did he send you the video of when he asked me to take that photo? You know the one,” Aaron asked, and you straightened your posture, grinning brightly.

“With an ass like his, I don’t know why you’d think it’s undignified,” you said loftily, and there was a beat as everyone took in what you said.

“I fucking love you,” Joe half laughed, pulling you in for a kiss.

“You’re good,” Tyler snorted, shaking his head with a grin, and Aaron was just straight-up laughing. The rest of the cast took to you easily, though most of the in-jokes among them went over your head, by Joe’s side, you never really felt left out. 

The theater itself was cool and dark, but you could feel the whole cast and crew thrumming with excitement and nervous energy, and Joe gave your hand a squeeze where your fingers were interlaced. 

It’s clear he’d poured his heart and soul into the movie, his fingerprints were all over every aspect of it, and you couldn’t quite believe you were watching it all finally completed; it had been almost a year since you’d first asked him about it, and now, here you were, hand in hand with him at the premiere. 

As the credits rolled, as the crowd clapped, and you along with them, you found yourself speechless. Joe, quiet and surprisingly nervous, turns to you.

“What’d you think?” His voice is quiet, uncertain, and you all but tackle him across the armrest, kissing him until you’re both breathless.

“I’m so proud of you,” you gasp against his lips, “I’m so fucking proud of you.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you,” his voice is gentle as he takes your face in his hands, but you shake your head.

“You could have, babe, you absolutely could have, you’ve got so much ambition and talent -”

“I didn’t want to do it without you,” he admits in a rush, and you freeze, eyes on his, “I mean it.” And you’re kissing him again, hoping he can feel the pride and love that’s flowing through you. There’s an afterparty to get to, drinks with the cast and crew, and a comfortable bed waiting after that, you know, but you can’t help but bask in this one moment together, just a little longer.

[chunhua-s]

ok i’m a barista and like could you write like a coffee shop thing with suna for me pls 🥺 (I love him and his tsundere ass 😤)

coffee au 2/2 on the way 😌✨ please i absolutely adore this au — peachy’s request was the first time i’ve written for it but like.... there’s so much space to make atmosphere for that au and it’s just so cute 🥺 i hope you’ll like what i have for your request — when i read you’re a barista i immediately got an idea in my head for you and suna 💕 i’m not entirely sure i got him down right tbh.... i’m more than nervous? cause honestly i never even thought of him too much before? but i always got the feeling that you could just relax around him, you know? like silences are never uncomfortable with him, you can just be with him and unwind, you never get worn out from talking with him. personally he seems like a sort of safe haven where you can forget about everything around you and just..... i dunno, exist? like he’ll let you be as you are and he’ll just chill with you. i hope i got that across here with him — but enough of my rambling, here’s your request, bb! and thanks so much for participating! and like always, i consulted my wives runa and peachy whenever i got stuck! i have next to no experience with cafes save for dunkin’ donuts and the cafe vlogs that come up on my yt feed every now and then... i hope i did it all some justice!

THE SUN THAT SHINES ON EARTH ➽ SUNA RINTAROU x READER

genre: fluff, mutual pining

au: coffeeshop

warnings: none!

you are the brightest part of suna’s life.

he thinks that you’re as sweet as the vanilla bean frappuccino he watches you make, your smile like the caramel that you so carefully drizzle over white foam. your eyes are alight with a brilliance that warms him up better than the iced americano that he always gets. and when your eyes find his from across the counter, he feels his heart skip a beat and his breath hitch in his throat.

you’re just too beautiful.

“suna!” you greet him as if he somehow made your day brighter, grinning at him as you quickly began bustling around to grab a cup without him even giving his order — you’d long since learned the exact way he orders his drink that your motions were almost automatic. “same thing today, right?”

your voice sounds like a distant lullaby, like the gentle rustling of leaves on a cool summer wind that washes over him and runs its fingers through his hair so endearingly. he can’t help the smile that touches his lips as he leans against the counter, eyes lidded as he watches you move about. your question is answered with a soft hum, and if you try and focus, you could imagine the sound of it right by your ear; you lose yourself inside an illusion of slender arms wrapped around your waist and your head leaning against his chest. the drip of the coffee shot from the machine is what tethers you to reality.

“hey, um...” the words are hesitant on suna’s lips, he licks them once to get rid of the dry feeling in his mouth when you glance up at him for a brief second with your shining eyes and you show him that smile once more — it only lasts a second, but it’s enough to send his mind into overdrive with thoughts of you. he inhales softly and looks down at his fingers; they fiddle together as if they weave together a story he can’t even begin to decipher. “we’re having a game coming up this sunday.”

when he glances back at you, he finds you pouring the coffee shot into a medium-sized cup filled with iced water; the brown liquid swirls on its descent, mixes and blends until its colour fills the cup in its entirety. you’re so careful in your actions, never once spilling or making a mess, and suna can’t help but think that it’s admirable how much care you put into preparing your drinks. it’s as if you give to each of your customers a part of your spirit, departing unto them a kind of innocent joy that takes its home with wandering souls and guides them to a safe place in your cafe. he doesn’t know that, for him, you make sure to pour your heart in every iced americano you make for him.

the sound of the ice stirring around inside the cup is nearly lost under the chatter of college students and working office people, but your voice rings out to him like the chiming of bells. “oh?” your hand presses down on the plastic cover, the ice inside rattles a little. as you’re turning back to him, you reach out to grab a small cup holder and a straw. “are you nervous?” as you take in his chilled expression and the barely there smile that crease his lips, you think to yourself that suna rintarou doesn’t seem like the kind of person who gets nervous. if you could hear the loud thumping of his heart inside his chest, or see the faintest hint of red that paint the tip of his ears, you would think otherwise. suna rintarou is nervous — but it isn’t the game that causes his pulse to quicken beneath his skin as you hand him his drink.

suna thinks — really thinks about your question, and as you mirror his leaned posture across the marble countertop, you can’t help but notice the way his eyelashes brush against his skin, the way the sunlight kisses him so softly and embraces him in her arms. it’s a helpless thought that hits you when you wish to do the same. when he finally glances up to find your eyes trained on him, you realize just how close the both of you stand — breathing in the other’s space, where the smell of coffee loses itself on peppermint and hints of strawberry. you feel the urge to brush strands of black hair from his face, to caress his cheek with a familiarity that could only belong to a lover’s touch. when he exhales, you feel his breath brush softly against your skin, and as your world stills and your heart sings to you a lullaby of calm and tranquility, you realize where the smell of peppermint comes from.

“not really,” he finally answers on a quiet huff, not daring to move away lest he should disturb the bubble that’s settled around the two of you; lest the meadows he sees in your eyes should vanish on fluttering petals and lose themselves on the wind. now that he stands so closely to you, he lets himself dance on liquid courage, surged by the patient smile you give to him and the bit of your spirit that latches on to his wandering heart.

“do you wanna come and watch?”

heavens above, the way your smile stretches into a toothy grin is so pure and innocently joyous, that suna’s heart does backflips inside his chest. it’s as sweet as the oreo cake that he knows you love to eat on your break, enticing like the aroma of coffee beans that cling so closely to your person.

“sure!” you’re so enthusiastic in your acceptance that it almost doesn’t feel as if he’s merely asking you to come watch him play at a volleyball game. the way your eyes sparkle under fairy lights, the way your entire image glows like a second sun, it’s almost as if he asks you to run away with him, to disappear beneath the stars and follow the trail of fairy dust that litters the night sky.

you are the brightest part of suna’s life, and he thinks to himself that he wants nothing more than to get lost with you in a place far away.

davi hits 200 followers — haikyuu!! au writing event! 💕

taglist: @aiiishiiiteru @bootylikepeachy @tsumue

send an ask to be added!

[advena87]

Kaer Morhen shenanigans (but mostly Lambert’s) part 8

Here is: Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7, Part 8, Part 9, Part 10 and Daily Lambert

also Keira & Lambert’s love story, Aiden & Lambert’s love story and… this.

.

Eskel: Can I keep this goat?

Vesemir: No.

Eskel: Why not? She’s so cute, I named her Lil’Bleater.

Berengar: Because she’ll hurt and annoy everyone.

Vesemir: And she will destroy everything.

Eskel: But you basically just described Lambert!

Geralt: He has a point. If we can keep Lambert we might as well keep the goat. She can't be worse than him.

Vesemir: It's hard to argue with this logic…

***

*brekfast*

Lambert: Give me a vodka on the rocks. 

Geralt: Lambert, it’s 7 in the morning. 

Lambert: And a piece of toast. 

 *a moment later*

Geralt: Eskel, we just ate. Why are you making pancakes?

Eskel: They’re for Lil’Bleater.

Berengar: Why are you making pancakes for goat?

Eskel: She doesn't know how.

***

Lambert: Um, guys?

Berengar: What now?

Lambert: Can animal breathe inside a washing machine while it’s on?

Berengar:

Geralt:

Eskel:

Eskel: Where’s Lil’Bleater?!

*a moment later*

Berengar: *leaning against a wall with Geralt while they watch Eskel try to catch Lambert *

Berengar: Amazing.

Geralt: This is the worst chase I’ve ever seen in my life. How has Eskel still not caught him?

Berengar: Lambert is pretty fast, and if he caught him, he would probably kill him. Tbh I don’t think Eskel really wants to touch him. You never know where he’s been.

Lambert: Eskel, calm down! This goat was stinking, someone had finally wash her!

Eskel: YOU CAN RUN BUT ILL STILL BE IN YOUR NIGHTMARES!

***

Vesemir: I can’t believe how drunk you are!

Lambert: I am not drunk.

Vesemir: Yes you are!

Lambert: I am not!

Vesemir: Can you tell the time?

Lambert: Yes *turns to point at clock* I am not drunk!

Vesemir, pointing out of a window: Lambert, do you see that over there? Running between the trees?

Lambert, confused: No, I don't. What is it?

Vesemir, now looking directly at Lambert: It's my patience for your stupid drunk shit, running away from me again!

***

Berengar: Wow, I really like this new, abstract, surrealist, post-modern painting of this depressive and tormented person.

Lambert: Dude, that’s a mirror.

***

Berengar: The fact that I exist literally pisses me off sometimes.

***

Vesemir: What are the signs of teenage depression?

Geralt: Why are you asking?

Vesemir: Berengar was doing laundry earlier and he dropped a sock and I heard him say “why has the god forsaken me”.

***

Vesemir: Where's Berengar? I've been looking for him all day.

Eskel: He’s been in the shower.

Vesemir: All day?

Eskel: Pretty much. He takes really long showers when he gets depressed.

Vesemir: Well, when do you think he’s going to come out?

Eskel: I don't know. He took a chair in there.

*a moment later*

Vesemir and Eskel: *knocks on bathroom door*

Berengar: Who is it?

Eskel: It's us, we just wanna talk.

Berengar: How many of you are there?

Vesemir: Two.

Berengar: Then talk to each other.

***

Vesemir, calling Lambert: Hello.

Lambert: What?

Vesemir: Lambert, you should identify yourself when you answer the phone.

Lambert: Sorry.

Lambert: *thick sarcasm* The Kaer Morhen keep, major disappointment speaking.

Lambert: Better?

Vesemir: *sighs in defeat*

***

Lambert: Hey guys- Why are you all standing on table? Are you playing a game?

Geralt: Yeah, we’re playing “we saw a young arachnomorph in the castle and don’t know where the fuck it went”.

Lambert: *scrambles onto table*

***

Lambert: I’ll think of a plan, I’m the best at plans.

Eskel: No. You’re not.

Lambert: I am! Name one bad plan I’ve come up with.

Eskel: Blowing up the rock troll in the castle tower.

Berengar: Starting a bar brawl because you forgot your wallet.

Geralt: Ritualistically sacrificing Eskel.

Eskel: Putting Lil’Bleater into the washing machine.

Geralt: Throwing bombs inside the castle.

Berengar: Take fisstech and go hunting for a Water Hag in brothel.

Geralt: Ooh, so that's why they kicked you out of there!

Lambert: …

***

Vesemir: I'm disappointed

Lambert: And I'm tired of hearing this shit. You're disappointed? Let's think about it: Brengar has depression and suicidal thoughts, I have drinking problem and anger issues, Eskel's best friend is a goat, and Geralt is a slut.

Geralt: Wait, what?

Lambert: And tell me Vesemir, whose fault is that?

Vesemir: It's not your job to question my parenting methods.

Lambert: Why not? I find some of your methods highly questionable.

Geralt: I'm not a slut!

***

Geralt: Ok Lambert, we need you to distract the guards.

Lambert: Right.

Berengar: What are you gonna do?

Lambert: I'm gonna kill them. That ought to distract 'em.

Geralt: I said distract them, not cut them down!

Lambert: There is just no pleasing you sometimes.

Gerlat: Lambert!

Lambert: FINE. I'll take care of it. No killing, I promise.

*Lambert leaves*

Geralt: What do you think Lambert will do for a distraction?

Eskel: He’ll probably, like, make a noise or throw a rock. That’s what I would do.

*Building explodes and all the horses fled*

Berengar: ...or he could do that.

Geralt: …

Geralt: Fuck. It’s time for Plan B.

Berengar: We have a Plan B?

Geralt: No, but it’s time for one.

*meanwhile in another part of town, Vesemir on a date with countess Mignole*

Vesemir, to Mignole: Hah, look at those idiots getting chased by guards.

Vesemir: Wait.

Eskel, Geralt, Lambert & Berengar: *yelling in the distance*

Vesemir: SHIT- THOSE ARE MY IDIOTS

 *later*

Vesemir: I can’t come today, sorry.

Countess Mignole: Why not?

Vesemir: Geralt, Eskel, Lambert and Berengar are all in the hospital.

Countess Mignole: Oh my, what happened?

Vesemir: Varying degrees of idiocy.

***

Eskel: With all due respect Geralt, have you lost your fucking mind?

Geralt: That's with all due respect? And since when you use the fuck word?

Eskel: You took advice from Lambert?!

Berengar: It’s called hitting rock bottom, Eskel.

Geralt: It's called following Vesemir's directions. He always said: „In the unlikely event that you encounter something that is not covered here, find a man named Lambert of Kaer Morhen, get his advice, and then do the opposite.”

Eskel: But you did exactly what Lambert told you!

Geralt: Because it was good advice.

***

Vesemir: Eskel wants to become a witcher when he grows up to kill monsters and help people in need. My other son, Lambert, wants to be a porcupine so he can stab people with his butt.

***

Vesemir, before the young witchers set off on their first independent journey: Eskel, you should look after Lambert.

Eskel: What do you mean? He's a witcher now.

Vesemir: That doesn’t mean he actually knows what he’s doing.

*later on the path during dinner*

Lambert: Okay, guys, who wanted the macaroni and bees?

Eskel: ...

Gerlat: You mean cheese?

Lambert, struggling to keep the bowl covered: That does make more sense, actually.

Eskel: I'm starting to understand what Vesemir meant.

***

Lambert: Your existence is confusing.

Vesemir: How so?

Lambert: Your presence is so fucking annoying, but the thought of anything bad happening to you upsets me.

Berengar: It's called Stockholm syndrome.

Lambert: Ah yes, another issue on my long, long list.

Berengar: I think you may also have PTSD.

Lambert: Yeah I have PTSD.

Lambert: Proficient Talent for Sucking D-

Vesemir: WE ALSO need to talk about your use of humor as a coping mechanism.

***

Vesemir: Everyone always asks me how I handle running the witcher school.

Vesemir: The truth is, I don’t. I have no control over them whatsoever. This morning, Geralt called my name, and when I showed up to see what was going on, Lambert shot me in the throat with a slingshot.

.