#is giving. fairly odd parents?? idk i never watched that show | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

1kook · 5 years ago

Text

imax & climax

summary; The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack. warnings; fingering, blowjobs, tit play, praise kink, standing sex, unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl kinda idk lol, daddy kink that morphs into i love u kink tags; jk is an avid history channel viewer, jk hates Barbie movies ik we took an L today girls 😔, jk goes thru like 4 personality changes (commanding > soft > mean > in love), honestly idk what to tag it’s a mess, he’s still cheesy and romantic but also 👀 just read word count; 9.8k

notes; there is no rest for the wicked, aka miss 1kook writes another part for this fic i swore wasn't gonna be a series except this time we ditch the gentlemen persona and go into maximum overdrive. its not proofread bc i wrote this entire thing at 4 am last night after inhaled a whole bucket of spicy popcorn

[ part 1 ; netflix & chill ] [ part 2 ; hulu & wohoo ]

Jungkook sees it on display during your weekly Target trip. You know he won’t say anything because despite how long you’ve dated he still likes to pretend he’s the epitome of adult maturity. Yet the way his eyes linger over the electronics section, cart rolling to a stop in front of the massive screen, tells you all you need to know.

“Baby, the toilet paper is this way,” you sing, giving the front of the cart a gentle tug that pulls it and his thoughts away from the television that seems to hold reign over his interest.

“Ah,” he mumbles as he shakes himself out of whatever trance he was in. “Right.”

The Target trip ends rather uneventfully; you grab all the items you came for and make the executive decision of swapping Jungkook’s tangerine bathroom soap with strawberry instead. Normally he’d put up a good fight, argue about the comfort that came with consistency, but today he says nothing. You chalk it up to that flatscreen that hypnotized him earlier.

“You wanted it,” you announce rather pointedly in the car. He’s backing out of the parking space now, one hand on the wheel the other pressed to the side of your seat. His jaw twitches as he tries to maneuver around a stray shopping cart someone didn’t return to the retrieval area. He’s wearing that dark jumper you like, with the high collar that covers all of last night’s bruises up wonderfully.

Jungkook scoffs as he finally gets the two of you back onto the main road, Target and the flat screen left behind. “I didn’t,” he defends. “Just thought it was neat.”

You snort. “Neat. Okay, grandpa, did it tickle your pickle?” you tease, obnoxiously leaning over the center console to get all in his face. Jungkook greets your proximity with a palm against your forehead.

“Please don’t ever say that again,” he laughs, pulling to a stop at the next red light. He turns to level you with an easygoing grin, sparkly anime girl eyes extra shiny under the red glow. “Only want you to tickle my pickle.”

You gag. “That’s actually disgusting.”

——

You graduate on a Saturday and your dorm stay expires on the Tuesday that follows. You spend the entire day shoving all your belongings into a variety of trash bags, from your weighted blanket to the collection candles you and Doyeon swore to light every night and never did. Speaking of Doyeon, she cries through the entire process. From the moment you take down the first wall decoration she’s in tears, and not even her mom, who’s come to help out, can quell her emotions. The girl cries and cries. She cries throughout the clean up, like she hadn’t spent the week before cursing the funky aircon system to hell and back. It’s probably the nostalgia that comes with leaving college, you assume. When Jungkook picks you up around noon, even your eyes are glassy.

Jungkook’s mom, who you only just met a few months ago, is over at his place when you arrive. You get along fairly well, in fact, you would even go as far as to claim you got along really well. You had first met her over this past spring break when Jungkook invited you along to his family trip to some tropical island. The Jeons were lovely people. In fact, had Jungkook not explicitly introduced them as his parents, you would’ve thought they were some sitcom actors carrying out the role of most in love, sophisticated lovers to ever exist. Yeah, they were super into each other, and you suppose it’s why Jungkook is the way he is, loves as hard as he does. The only thing that broke their attention away from each other was the sight of their precious Jungkookie bringing you to a family event.

It was hard to keep them entertained. Every second was spent worrying about your appearance, your demeanor, whether or not you looked like a devil beside their (your) angelic boy. It certainly didn’t help that Jungkook was wearing that obnoxiously floral shirt at the restaurant you went to, the first three buttons undone almost lazily. It was a look your boyfriend rarely showed, always so meticulously dressed. Of course, he had that cute boyish style of his that consisted almost exclusively of baggy pants and designer tee’s a little too plain to cost as much as they did. But even those outfits had a specific Jungkook rhythm to them— the darker tones always went with the pants that had twelve buckles on them; the long sleeves always went with the jeans. He was awfully particular about those kinds of self-set rules, and this jarring floral print did not fit any of them. It was too provocative, the black skinny jeans he’d paired with it too devious.

Maybe he knew what he was doing to you dressed so hot like this, but knowing Jungkook, you doubt he did. His parents hadn’t batted a single lash his way, eyes laser focused on your every word as you stumbled through three plates and dessert. It was a battle you fought alone, and one you barely survived.

So despite you impressing his parents, she still gives you an odd look when you enter Jungkook’s swanky townhouse with all your garbage bags of items. You promise her it’s just for the weekend, until your parents clean out your old room that they’ve filled to the brim with holiday decorations and miscellaneous objects. You’re not trying to take her baby chick out of the nest. (Yet.)

You watch TV for a couple hours, mostly her favorite soap operas on his 67 in. screen. It takes up a huge spot on the wall where it’s mounted, glossy black screen glaring back at you. Even his mom scolds him for such a huge screen, and you wonder how she’d feel about the absolute giant he ogled at the Target last week. Super angry, you think, and the image of her raging in flames while Jungkook apologizes like the momma’s boy he is makes you giggle.

She leaves a little after sunset, kissing and hugging the both of you on the doorstep like she’s going off to war and will never return. She’ll be back by the weekend, desperate to check on her baby boy, but you let her have her moment. It’s weird seeing how dramatic the Jeons are compared to how reserved Jungkook is.

You pounce on him the second she’s gone. He goes down with a muffled yelp against the sofa, hands grasping at your waist until you straddle him and begin going to town. Your fun lasts all of two minutes before the old lady novella Jungkook’s mom had been watching cuts to commercials and a loud advertisement for irritable bowel syndrome medication begins playing.

“Oh, that is so not sexy,” you whine childishly, trying to roll your hips over him again. Jungkook laughs, all low and sweet as he sits back up again.

“Give it a rest,” he says, shifting you until he’s got you hugged between those stupidly strong arms of his. His pecs feel strong and comforting beneath your cheek, and the feeling makes your tiny pouting session end earlier than usual. “Come on,” he mumbles as he manhandles you around, until your back is pressed against his chest and you’re sitting between his legs. “Let’s watch this film on Mesopotamian folklore and its overall significance to the nations it birthed after its downfall.”

——

You rarely use the key Jungkook gifted you a few months back. The majority of your visits to Jungkook’s house were either the result of Jungkook picking you up from somewhere and bringing you back, or Jungkook inviting you over after dinner. In short, he was always with you when you arrived at his stoop.

Today you’re alone, juggling two boxes of takeout and some cheap wine in one hand as you fight to unlock his door. He hadn’t answered his phone, which leads you to believe he’s holed himself up again in that damn study. He likes to do that sometimes, lock himself away like some modern day Rapunzel until he finishes whatever project he has this time around. When he gets like this, it’s like all other body functions are forgotten, his brain zeroed in on the lines of code you barely understand.

Just as you suspect, the house is too dark when you finally break in. The hall light is off, which isn’t out of the norm, but so are the kitchen and living room lights. You pad down the hall, flicking on the light to the living room to set down your offerings onto the edge of the coffee table. There’s a scrambled pile of notes on top that seem too disorderly to disregard. You whirl around, making to head back out into the hall and down to the study, when you see it.

A good 90 inches mounted on his wall. It’s a monstrosity of a screen, devouring nearly the entire surface of the wall, from stainless end to stainless end. It’s ridiculously thin in the way all modern TVs are, but this one is even more so given the fact you hadn’t registered it in your peripheral when you walked in. It’s just barely short of a Jumbotron, the kind they have at baseball games to make sure you can see every nose hair on the pitcher.

His mom was going to kill him.

“Jungkook?” you call out slowly, inching back out into the hall with your gaze glued to the screen. Like maybe you’ve imagined this all and that isn’t the stupidly gigantic television screen Jungkook had gawked at just a few weeks ago.

There’s a soft hum down the hall, the sound slipping beneath the bottom gap in the door frame. You make a beeline for the room, oddly unsettled with the huge screen. The door gives way, exposing your boyfriend’s hunched back and the blue light from his monitors that highlights his frame. “Hi, sweetie,” you begin, inching over to him.

“Hi,” he sighs, leaning back into your touch when you step behind him. His dark eyes are weary from staring at his tablet for too long, his usual tender expression melted into one of mild irritation. “Can’t figure this out,” he says, tapping his stylus against one line of absolute nerd gibberish you don’t bother trying to decipher. Maybe another day you would have entertained him, but today you cherish this moment with him knowing it might be his last before his mom comes over and kills him.

“Sounds like break time to me!” Your proclamation makes him frown, a frustrated groan pulling itself from his lips. His head droops forward again, chin touching his chest. But there’s a hint of relief in his groan that tells you all you need to know. “Baby needs a break,” you smile, pressing a peck against the back of his head.

“You’re baby,” he tries to fight, but his limbs are so pliant under your touch that it practically means nothing. “I’m the head honcho around here.”

“Uh huh,” you appease him, finally managing to tug all that muscled body out of his seat. “And apparently that means making dumb purchases.”

“What dumb purchases? Are you talking about the cactus again?” he asks, letting you guide him back down the hall.

“Yes, Kook, the cactus you haven’t watered in three months,” you drawl sarcastically, the sad plant sitting in the kitchen a reminder of both your incompetence. “Namjoon would hate you for that.”

Not amused by the insinuation of his favorite senpai being disappointed in him, Jungkook goes to fight you on that. By then you’ve stopped at the entrance of the living room, glaring at the straight up theater screen that sits on the wall. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” you mimic, flopping down on the ground beside the coffee table. Jungkook doesn’t follow, choosing to sprawl himself over the couch instead. “What’s with the Jumbotron?”

He stretches his arms out, moaning something sinful at the way his bones pop. “It adds to the experience,” he says. “Movies are more enjoyable when the pictures are bigger; a tall aspect ratio and stadium seating really add to the experience.” He was such a nerd.

You snort. “The experience— Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t know I was speaking to Mr. IMAX here.”

His cheeks flush a soft pink at your jab. “Don’t be mean,” he mumbles, tugging on your arm as he sits back up. You find your way onto his lap, neatly seated over one thigh like he’s the Santa Claus at the mall; not a single gray hair in sight but you’d still let him call you his hoe, hoe, hoe. Realizing there’s more important matters to attend to than Jungkook’s Christmas ham, you shake those images away.

“Good thing I brought a movie,” you beam, gesturing to the pretty pink case resting over top the takeout bag.

Jungkook doesn’t even spare it a single glance as he burrows into your neck. “What? No, we’re finishing the docuseries on—“

You groan loudly to muffle the rest of his sentence. “Kook, I don’t wanna watch another episode on Stonehenge being done by aliens,” you whine, picking up the movie case to brandish in his face.

It’s admittedly the wrong move when Jungkook’s eyes roll themselves into another dimension. “Absolutely not,” he says. The case is quickly discarded off to the side as he attempts to distract you with a kiss against your cheek.

Too bad you’re evil and determined. “No! We are watching the Princess and the Pauper and that’s final,” you exclaim, scrambling for the movie before he can hurl it out the window. He catches you by the waist, your fingers just an inch away from the pink case. “Babe!” you cry, but his fingerprints are bruising their way into your skin.

“No more Barbie movies,” he begs, yanking you back onto his lap. He does so with so much force that it makes the two of you tumble to the side, your head bouncing on the cushions as he catches himself over you. “Please.”

“I hate you,” you fuss, pointedly ignoring the tiny mole beneath his lip that drove you crazy. “We’ve seen every single thing on the History Channel this week, but we can’t watch one Barbie movie?”

Jungkook sighs, dropping his head down against your shoulder. He smells good and feels even better over you, but you’re not going to stop until the Princess and the Pauper is breaking in the new Jumbotron. “It’s weird,” he huffs, voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “Especially when we start getting… experimental, and I have to listen to Barbie sing in the background.”

“First of all, her name is Annaleise in this movie,” you correct, squirming beneath him to no avail. “Secondly, how do you think I feel when you’re eating me out while some old British dude narrates the creation of the Hanging Gardens of Babylon?”

Jungkook scoffs, finally letting himself snuggle completely into you. “You don’t even realize it because you’re screaming the whole way through.” That earns him a sharp tug at his ear that has him sputtering apology after apology.

“It’s boring!” you feel the need to emphasize.

Jungkook sits up with an uppity look on his face. “It’s not my fault you don’t appreciate the cinematography that comes from educational pieces,” he points out, rather presumptuously.

You shove him off of you. “I don’t care about cinnamon topography, just play the damn Barbie movie,” you hiss, swiping the movie case from the other end of the couch and pressing it to his chest. If words could hurt, yours definitely do. Jungkook crumbles against the couch, childishly stomping one sock-clad foot against the ground as you gesture toward the movie player.

He doesn’t move, and you’re about to begin another tirade against his snobby movie critiquing habits when he procures a sleek, tiny remote that you would honestly mistake for an iPhone from a distance. It has, no joke, about seven buttons max, four of which are just the up and down, left and right arrows. You let out a low whistle at that. Wow. Technology sure was advancing.

The TV turns on to some minimalistic home page, tiny widgets showing every app it has; the bottom row is dedicated almost entirely to Jungkook’s massive streaming service provider collection. After a moment of brewing in his feels, Jungkook quietly announces, “it’s on Amazon Prime.” This is news to you, being able to watch a Barbie film on a streaming service and not the old disk you scratched when you were ten. Something distinctly carnal flashes in your chest when Jungkook clicks through all the payment options without a care in the world. Oh, that was definitely going into your horny 3 am dreams.

Despite his earlier protests, you know Jungkook will soon fall into his usual movie watching habits. He settles into the couch beside you. You cuddle up next to him, enveloping him with the grip of a killer octopus choking out its prey, except Jungkook is usually the one doing the choking in this relationship. Still, it’s not close enough, and you throw your legs over his thigh. You’re practically sitting on him at this point.

You have no doubt the speakers on this thing are average; it was too thin to really pack any punch. However, that was the TV sans the Bluetooth speakers Jungkook has installed all around his house.

(You swear when the android uprising finally begins, your boyfriend will be the first one out.)

The speakers really amplify the sound. The opening sequence has your bones rattling inside your body, the loud music of the selection screen reverberating through the entire living room. It reminds you of that pounding COMING SOON clip that used to play at the beginning of DVD’s back in the day. Jungkook scrambles to lower the volume. “Sweetheart, you’re cutting off my circulation,” he wheezes afterwards.

“What? This is how we always watch movies,” you say with a frown.

“Yes, and I always end up with less oxygen than before.”

He doesn’t let you argue, which is good, because you could make a thirty five slide PowerPoint presentation on the advantages of watching movies like this. One, your boyfriend was warm. Two, your boyfriend smelt good. Three, your boyfriend’s ripped body awoke some ancient being inside of you that would not rest until his cock was halfway down your thro—

He hauls you into his lap. The angle forces you to let him go, instead met with the jarring nothingness of having his hot body ripped away. Meanwhile he gets to wrap you up in his arms, hold you like a teddy bear to his chest. “I hate this,” you huff, but the movie is already starting, the beautiful blonde Anneliese appearing on screen. You lean back against his chest, pout still evident. “This is ridiculous,” you snort, her face blown up on this jumbo screen.

“Shut up,” he says, settling in behind you. “Movie’s starting.”

Most Barbie movies you watch end up in one of two ways: either Jungkook falls asleep twenty minutes in or he stays up until the end to critique every aspect of it. With the way he’d gone soft from your early battle, you’re guessing he was going to knock out before the Princess can even meet the Pauper.

As much as you hate to admit it, the huge screen does incite quite a thrill in you. There’s something so nostalgic about watching one of your favorite childhood movies on a screen this huge. The size showcases the sheer perfection that is every single Barbie movie. You lose yourself in the movie, singing along to the opening song and growing agitated when the antagonist appears.

Jungkook says nothing, and you’re half convinced he’s taken his first preferred route and snoozed off, when his fingers twitch around your waist.

There it was.

The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Jungkook gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack.

“Absolutely not,” you say, slapping a hand down over his before he can slip beneath the fabric of your shorts.

He lets out an indignant noise, a puff of air running along the side of your face. You ease his hands back over your stomach, taking extra care to knot your fingers with his. “We’re supposed to be breaking in your new screen,” you remind him, glancing up to catch his unimpressed expression.

He complains quietly, but he settles.

For all of twenty seconds.

“Oh my god,” you sigh, trying to act like the subtle rutting of his cock on your behind was a nuisance and not the luxury it is. “Babe, the jumbo screen… look at it.”

“Not even jumbo,” he murmurs against your ear, hot breath sending a shiver down your spine that has your toes curling. You fight to keep his hands still, but the muscles in his forearm tense, inked skin contracting as he slips them between your thighs. You suck in a sharp inhale, trying to maintain your immovable front. Jungkook sees the fortress you’ve built around yourself in the name of watching The Princess and the Pauper, and spares you no mercy with his attack. His hands massage the skin of your thighs, tiny shorts doing absolutely nothing to save you from him. “Jumbo didn’t fit.”

The back of your mind registers the fact he was apparently trying to get a TV even bigger than this. You tuck it away for later to snitch to his mom. For now, you’d very much appreciate it if he could make you cum before the two girls perform the iconic “I Am a Girl Like You” song.

His hands are so smooth, soft skin tracing over your body like you were nothing but a slab of clay ready to be molded under his touch. He abandons your thighs to creep them under your shirt, where he wastes no time tugging the cups of your bra down to fondle your breasts.

Belatedly, your stupid tongue remembers to move. “I know something jumbo that fits,” you babble, rolling your head back against his shoulder. Jungkook laughs at the utter stupidity of your sentence, and the aforementioned jumbo thing fattens against your ass, before brushing his lips against yours. The airy laughter, one of your favorite sounds in the world, is swallowed up by your greedy mouth. “Can fit in two places, actually,” you murmur when he pulls away. His fingers massage the doughy skin of your boobs causing your back to arch slightly. “Wherever he wants it to.”

“Really,” Jungkook teases, obviously entertained by your silly dirty talk. He’s grown used to your outlandish remarks in the past few months of your relationship.

You like to believe Jungkook has fully accepted your occasional bouts of weirdness. He’s had the last few months to grow familiar with the inner workings of your mind, and even absorbed some of it into his own personality. Which is why he doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by you referring to his cock as jumbo, when there were admittedly more fitting words to describe it as.

(Thick, juicy, angry, demon cock, if he really wanted to know.)

“Where do you think it should go?” he asks, the low hum of his voice snapping you out or your thoughts. There was no need to daydream about a cock that was right in front of you. His hands slow their gentle caress over you, fingers closing in on your nipples.

A sharp hiss pulls itself from your throat, chest arching as he tugs and toys with your hardened nipples. “Wh-Wherever,” you pant, reaching your own hands down back between your thighs. The phantom of his palms linger, making your hands feel sorely inadequate. “Wherever Daddy wants,” you purr, swallowing harshly when he twists a nipple.

Jungkook groans, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “Don’t,” he sighs, hands faltering over your breasts. Eventually they drift away, settling around your waist as you slip your fingers under the front of your bottoms.

“Why?” you laugh, pointer finger brushing along your clit. “Don’t like it when I call you that, Daddy?”

He lifts his head to watch you play with yourself. His hands grow tight around your waist, labored breath filling the air to harmonize with your breathy moans. You’re absolutely soaking your panties, sticky arousal making the fabric stick to your folds. “You know I do,” he murmurs, watching the outline of your knuckles through the fabric of your shorts. “Thought you wanted to play nice today.” He takes in a sharp inhale when you ease your finger into yourself, a breathy moan escaping from your lips.

You were already so wet, and you’re really not surprised this is how the two of you would break in his new IMAX, high definition flatscreen. Your pussy tightens around your finger, thigh muscles jumping at the intrusion. Fuck, you needed him so bad.

You smirk, drawing your hands out from their hiding spot. The television is the only thing lighting the room, the two of you shrouded in relative darkness. At first, your hand is shadowed by the glow of the screen, nothing more than an outline. But when you turn it just right, the light catches, highlighting the glistening skin of your fingers. It makes Jungkook shudder.

Ever so slowly, you bring your fingers up to his face. The tip of your middle finger runs teasingly against his plump lower lip, his shaky exhales sending a cool breath over your knuckles. “Open, Daddy,” you encourage, watching with rapt attention as he envelopes your fingers between his lips. He sucks, tongue dancing between each digit to slurp off your juices. “Do I taste good? Do you like it?”

You know he loves it, but it never hurts to ask.

Between the two of you, you each had your own share of distinctive interests when it came to sex. Kinks, if you will. You adored the softer, vanilla aspects of sex— the languid makeouts, the slow rutting against his thigh, the whispered praise, the cute pet names. Meanwhile, despite his initially reserved exterior, Jungkook preferred the other end of the spectrum. (You should’ve known from the get go!) He loved it fast and hard, so hard it would make you cry. He liked watching you squirm and beg for his cock while he pushed you to new heights. He liked the sticky, sweaty sex that left you feeling like a used rag beneath him, something you would have never expected given his neat and kind nature.

However, as with all things Jungkook, you always came first. Jungkook’s dream sex style was often pushed to the side in favor of pleasuring you. So quick and rough sex was more of a rare, once in a blue moon, type of luxury. Up until recently, sex had been mostly what you wanted. Either way you did things, Jungkook was fine as long as he got to hold you close.

It was only a few weeks ago that you discovered your shared daddy kink, him obsessed with the idea of shoving you around, something he would otherwise never do. You, on the other hand, found a pleasant satisfaction from being good for him, a stark contrast from your usual sharp tongue and nonexistent filter.

You pull your fingers from his mouth, the sleek drip of your arousal replaced with his saliva. Jungkook grunts as he hauls you further onto his lap, swollen cock nudging itself between your cheeks. “You know I love it, baby,” he growls against your ear. His hot breath fans over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Have you had your fun now?” he asks, tracing the pads of his fingers around your nipple teasingly.

“Mhm,” you moan. Jungkook’s hands decide they’re done toying with your tits, drifting back down to their original target between your shorts. “Want Daddy to fuck me now.”

He places a kiss against the side of your neck, right over the vein that runs beneath the skin. Jungkook kisses and nips down your skin, until his hair is tickling your collarbones as he sucks a hickey against the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “Is that the right way to ask for something?” he purrs, rubbing your cunt over your shorts.

It’s nowhere near as fulfilling as it would be without the garments. Nonetheless, it makes you ache for him, thighs quivering at the simple touch like you’re a bumbling virgin being touched for the first time. You’re nowhere near that, but every time with Jungkook was exhilarating enough to the point it felt like it was.

“Pretty please,” you pant, covering his hand with yours.

Jungkook rewards you with a fluttery kiss against your shoulder. “Good girl,” he hums. He finally gives you what you want, bypassing the fabric of your shorts and panties to dip his fingers between your folds. You gasp, hips jumping at the sudden brush of his hands along your quivering folds.

“Inside please,” you whimper, knees moving back and forth, only stopping when he helps you out of your bottoms. He places his free hand on one of them, stilling your writhing to fully focus on pleasing the burning fire inside of you. “Jungkook—“

A slap against your cunt that makes you squeal. “Ah ah,” he warns, voice a low tenor against your skin. If you focus hard enough, you can feel the faint brush of a smirk against your neck. “We’re playing a different game right now, pretty girl.”

On screen, your favorite childhood movie is bearing witness to the sinful acts at your boyfriend’s hands. It shouldn’t be surprising how easily you fall into his arms, onto his lap, especially with your history of movie watching with Jungkook.

From your very first date you were enamored with him; the dip of his Cupid’s bow, so innocent and cute, embodied every single aspect of his personality. He was the sweetest, softest boy, one your brain could never conjure in a thousand years. Jungkook’s level of care was hard to come by nowadays; he was a gentleman through and through.

These days he was growing out of that mature persona, and you like to think it’s thanks to you. Your wildness rubbed off on him, made him confident enough to geek out in public, or be adventurous in private. It helped nourish his impulsivity, which led to things like the Super Bowl Jumbotron watching you fuck now.

Despite knowing all this, knowing the way he is, the slow grind against your ass sends a thrill of arousal up your limbs, sensations converging just beneath your mound. “Yes, Daddy,” you mewl accordingly.

Pleased with your obedience, he rewards you by circling your throbbing clit with his thumb. It’s a terribly slow motion, pad of his finger easing over your engorged bud every other second. You wanted more, needed more. You squirm beneath him, attempting to push your clit against his palm. Your efforts are in vain when he clamps a hand down on your waist. “Sit still,” he growls.

You whimper. “Need more,” you rasp out. Your whole body is acting out now, shifting and turning as you try to wiggle closer. Your mouth brushes against his jawline. The sharp angle is the first thing your muddled thoughts focus on, lips hungrily latching onto his porcelain skin to suck a purple blossom onto it.

Any other day Jungkook would bask in the attention, let you bruise his skin up until he was violet from love.

Today... well.

You were playing a different game.

The hand that had been exploring your nether regions suddenly snaps up, catching your chin between his fingers. The wetness that has coated his digits smears messily across your skin, and you whimper when he squishes your cheeks beneath his fingers.

“No ‘please’?” he huffs, turning your head to meet his eyes.

Dark chocolate eyes you’ve come to associate with love and adoration stare back at you unimpressed. His pronounced brow bone twitches, like he’s holding the true intensity of his glare back for your own sake. He slots his mouth against yours with no warning, tongue pushing its way past your lips. It’s messy, his tongue licking into your mouth like you’re nothing but a lollipop for him to suck on. It pulls a surprised moan from your lips that he swallows quickly enough, biting down on your lower lip harshly. When he pulls away, he’s got that same bored look on his face. You feel small under such a cold look, shoulders scrunching up damn near your ears in a subtle attempt to hide from him.

The action makes Jungkook scoff as he leans away from you. He leaves you on his lap alone, like a tiny island desperate to join the main land. You shuffle around in a hurry, looping your arms around his neck in a last ditch effort to calm him down. It does nothing for Jungkook, who only prods his tongue along his cheek as he regards you with a calculating gaze.

After a moment, he finally says, “on your knees.”

Your heart falls out of your chest. “Huh?” you whisper hoarsely, wide eyes taking in his unimpressed expression. “Knees? But Daddy,” you whine, lower lip quivering as you glance down at the hardwood floor.

Anywhere else you wouldn’t have minded. In fact, anywhere else you would’ve been on the floor before the sentence even left his mouth. You loved sucking his dick almost as much as he loved eating you out. However your knees were embarrassingly frail against hard flooring, which is why most blowjobs had been administered in the comfort of his bed or the couch. Sometimes on carpeted surfaces, but Jungkook never pushed when he knew you would be aching the whole time.

Which is why his current demand has you standing stiff. “O-On the floor?” you murmur.

The stark truth was that Jungkook had you terribly spoiled. His constant pampering had convinced you you were invincible. His love was practically handed to you on a silver plate, cloth napkin folded like a crane beside it. He had never made you do something you didn’t like, and he had never put you in an uncomfortable position, mentally or physically.

Until now.

Jungkook gestures for the ground with a curt nod. “Is there a problem?” he inquires.

You look back again, eye the dark wood planks beneath you, glossed over enough to make them shine even in this weak light. “No,” you belatedly respond, slowly pushing yourself off his lap and onto your feet. Your big shirt falls back down, covers the tops of your thighs as you stand nude from the waist down. You’re tempted to just yank it down even more, hide beneath the cloth so he doesn’t have to see you whine and bitch about your knees aching.

Jungkook was so cool. He was so suave and composed. He was the opposite of you, which is why the two of you meshed so well together. You’ve thought about it about ten times tonight, but it was true. Despite all that, there were times his mature exterior made you feel small— small and silly. Like now, with him sitting against the sofa, dark eyes tracing up your legs in amusement.

You sink to the ground, very pointedly avoiding his gaze. The wooden slats are cold and hard beneath your knees, your kneecap immediately screaming in discomfort. Jungkook leans forward with his elbows on his knees, messy curls covering half of his face. “You know,” he hums, reaching out to trail his knuckles across your cheekbone. “I kinda like having you like this,” he admits, “below me like the good little girl you are.”

Your breath stutters as it leaves your lungs, fidgeting hands tugging at the front hem of your shirt in a feeble attempt to cover yourself up. Jungkook smirks at the movement, eventually retracting his hand to give you one, condescending pat on the head.

A hearty sigh escapes his lips as he settles back onto the couch cushions. “Keep me entertained, will you?” You gawk, but you know it’s not a question. He reaches over for the remote to turn the volume up on the Barbie movie.

Your favorite song on the entire soundtrack is playing, almost mocking you as you shuffle closer to him. Two hands tentatively placed on his thighs as the two animated maidens flounce around the screen. He doesn’t bat a single lash your way, eyes focused on the huge screen behind you instead.

His sweatpants give away easily, elastic band snapping away from hips. You have to fight that and his boxers down, Jungkook sitting like an immovable boulder in front of you. You barely manage to free his cock— the same jumbo cock you had referred to earlier —and it almost slaps you across the face from the force of its recoil. Your breath catches in your throat, a short-lived squeal as you flinch at the movement.

The sound causes him to look your way, over the bridge of his nose. “Do you mind?” he says scornfully. “I’m trying to watch a movie.”

“S-Sorry,” you stammer, quickly grasping his cock between your fist.

But apparently you’re doing everything wrong tonight. Jungkook hisses. “Shit— would it kill you to lick it first? Like you’re trying to start a damn fire on my cock,” he mumbles, head lolling back to watch the screen again.

You move in slower this time, careful to lick your palm before trying to grab him. When you do, it’s even more delayed, fingers hesitantly tightening around his swollen member. You’re trying to gauge his reaction, worried eyes flickering up to him every few seconds. Jungkook doesn’t object, craning his neck to the side to crack a joint there. With his clearance you carry on.

The strokes are slow at first, hand barely reaching over his tip like he likes. You’re weirdly anxious you’ll mess up for him, make him look at you with contempt. You suppose it’s because of the game you’re playing that you’re on edge. Usually, Jungkook adheres to your rules, soft as they may be, and he never pushes where you don’t want. Tonight, it’s like you’re a show dog desperate to impress her owner. In short, you were his bitch.

You loved it.

As much as you wanted to be good for him, the mere thought of your normally sweet-hearted boyfriend glaring down at you does something to you, makes your pussy clench.

It’ll haunt you for weeks. The image of such unimpressed eyes leveled your way because you couldn’t handle his dick will stain the insides of your eyelids. Even though he’ll brush it off, kiss you and tell you it’s fine, the inner conceited hoe in you will never let it go, will recall the memory every time your hand is under your panties.

Still, you’re terribly desperate to impress him. He was your other half, your lover, your sweetheart, your goddamn king; he deserved only the best— not some half-assed, scaredy-cat blowjob that would leave him reeling back afterwards.

With that belief and a sticky blob of spit later, you’re pushing him into your throat. It’s the first reaction you get since he’d started feeling you up, a deep, raspy groan straight from the pits of hell, that has you working even harder to swallow his cock down. “That’s it,” he pants, carding his fingers through your hair. “Good girl.”

You positively mewl under the praise, tongue growing heavy in your mouth as you swallow more and more of him down. The hard tip of his cock pulses inside, rubbing against your palate and then your throat. A gag catches in your throat, one you quickly subdue by shifting your hips.

Fuck, he was so big. Just the feeling of his cock brashly rubbing against the corners of your lips has you fantasizing about how he’ll undoubtedly stretch your pussy apart later. You moan, letting your eyes flutter shut as you try to wave those images away.

When his cock hits the back of your throat, you’re ten chapters deep into an erotic novel all about sucking Jungkook‘s dick. If your eyes weren’t already shut you’re certain they’d be at the back of your head anyway. It twitches against your tongue, one thick bead of precum sliding down your throat.

It seems to be the final straw for Jungkook, who clamps a hand down on the back of your head, forcefully pulling you away only to shove you down again. With his grip in your hair, he really goes to town. You whimper at his brutal movements, his cock nudging the back of your throat with every harsh tug of your hair. The slippery, wet glide of his cock against your mouth fills the room with a lewd squelching that drowns out the movie.

Your pussy quivers with each new intrusion, thighs pressing together as if that will quell the searing ache between them. It doesn’t, and when Jungkook finally bursts in your mouth, creamy cum splattering against your tongue and lips, it only grows.

“Fuck,” he growls, pushing you away as he sinks back into the cushions. His chest heaves beneath the material of his t-shirt, sweat dripping down from his hairline. Normally, you’d take this opportunity to crawl back onto his lap, lick and kiss away at his body while he recovered. But truthfully, you were both still new to this whole experience so there were still the occasional lulls between actions.

Sensing your uncertainty, Jungkook tugs you onto his lap. He presses one soft kiss against your cheek, eyes momentarily losing their hard edge to assure you everything is fine. You give him a tiny nod, as if assuring him you’re okay. He presses his mouth to yours, plush lips soothing over your raw lips. It’s brief, the kiss; he guides you through it but switches back quickly. He pulls away and bites down harshly on the side of your neck. “So perfect for me, pretty girl,” he murmurs, soothing his bite over with a swipe of his tongue.

You dissolve into a mushy puddle on his lap, muscles growing weak from his touch. Jungkook kisses down your neck, over your t-shirt clad chest, before he’s nudging you back down onto the cushions. With him looming over you, your body instinctively has you spreading your legs apart. His t-shirt comes up with one yank over his shoulders, sinewy muscles coming into view.

“Yum,” you whisper, hands reaching up to trail over his v-line. They’re quickly slapped away, a startled gasp pulled from your lips as Jungkook takes your wrists in his hands.

One shapely brow is raised in your direction. “Did I say you could touch?” he murmurs, pinning your hands above your head. A gasp catches in your throat from his close proximity. You subconsciously tilt your head up, try to brush your mouth against his, only to be denied with a subtle turn of his face. “How do you want it, pretty?” he asks, releasing the tight grip around your wrists.

Immediately, you latch around his broad shoulders, fingers tracing over the muscles of his arms until they meet at the base of his neck. “However you want,” you purr, pulling him closer until your bodies are aligned, the warm heat of his frame over yours. You kiss the spot beneath his ear once before he trails his lips down.

Jungkook mouths against your shoulder, lips tracing over the juncture where it meets your neck. “Hm,” he hums, taking a tiny sliver of skin between his teeth. “And if I said I wanted it hard?”

His proposal is followed by a slow roll of his hips against your throbbing core, the same dick you had just choked on gliding along your folds. You whimper, toes curling as the pleasure washes over you. Every ridge, ever vein of his hardened cock runs along your sensitive folds, reminding you of the aching flame inside of you. “Th-That’s fine,” you pant, leg lazily thrown over his hip. His hands trail over your waist, collecting your t-shirt as they move up your body until it’s pushed over the swell of your breasts.

When the material is finally discarded off to the side, leaving you in that flimsy bra Jungkook that snaps off, he strikes again. His tongue laps over your collarbone first, pouty lips ghosting over the skin as he makes his way to your breast. He takes one hardened peak into his mouth, drawing a shaky inhale from you. He rolls it between his teeth, tongue flicking the sensitive nub as you squirm beneath him.

Eventually he pulls away with a wet pop. Jungkook smirks, a soft puff of air fanning over your newly bruised skin. “Aren’t you the prettiest little thing.” He pushes away from you with one strong arm, looking down at you with an unreadable expression on his face. “Watch the movie,” he says.

You blink. “Huh?”

Before you know it, he’s tugging you back up onto your feet. He pushes you around, nearly sends you toppling over the coffee table as he positions you to his liking. “Kook!” you exclaim, palms slapping down against the glass tabletop in an effort to catch yourself. Just barely, your reflection glares back up at you.

A tap against your pussy startles you from the sight. “Wha—“

Two hands grab onto your biceps, tugging you up forcefully until your back arches, leaving you bent at a ninety degree angle before him. “Look, sweetheart,” he coos against your ear, voice deep enough that it vibrates through every bone in your body. Your breath stutters in your throat, exhilaration blossoming in your chest. “It’s your favorite movie.”

It is in fact your favorite movie, the same one you had fought tooth and nail just moments prior to watch. On screen, the two damsels are exploring new things in their lives, just how you were experiencing Jungkook’s true intensity for the first time. “It is,” you quietly confirm, back aching from the position.

Jungkook either doesn’t care about your depleting strength or really trusts in you not to faceplant onto his glass coffee table, palms sliding down to the crease of your elbows to hold you. “Tell me what it’s about,” he says

Just as the words leave his mouth, something hard and wet prods against your folds. “Oh,” you cry, fists tightening into balls as the feeling overwhelms you. “Jungkook, please.”

One elbow is let go, and the abrupt release has you scrambling to catch yourself, your glass reflection coming a little too close. This becomes even more difficult when a hand suddenly strikes down hard against your ass, a startled yelp escaping you. Just as quickly as you were released, Jungkook wastes no time snatching your back up, yanking you back until your cunt runs along his cock again.

“C’mon, pretty, thought you knew better,” he sighs playfully.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, chest heaving with every slow roll of his hips. Your pussy was sopping, desperate to be filled with something. It was even worse knowing his dick was right there, just inches outside of where you need him most. “I’m sorry, Daddy,” you repeat.

Jungkook chuckles, and your heart backflips when he finally begins lining himself up. “It’s okay,” he assures you, in that same gentle tone he uses when you accidentally shove the wrong food down the sink disposal. “Baby’s still learning,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss against your shoulder as he begins pushing himself in. Just the head of his cock proves to be a struggle, swollen tip stretching your entrance wide. There’s an extra sting today from your half-hearted preparation, the both of you relying solely on your own arousal and excitement to let him in. It’s a nice kick.

When he finally pops past that initial tightness, you swear you could transcend into another dimension from the absolute feeling of euphoria that washes over you. “Fuck,” you mewl, fighting against his tight hold. Your efforts are in vain, ultimately choosing to drop your head down as the ecstasy continues to wash over you with each inch he offers you.

A warning squeeze around your wrist. “Language,” Jungkook reprimands, though his voice is strained and light.

You nod mindlessly, toes curling against the wooden floor. “It-It feels so good,” you whine. Your knees wobble dangerously beneath you, until you’re swaying just the slightest bit.

He gives until there’s nothing left, the soft hairs around his dick tickling your lips as he reaches the hilt. “There we go,” he grunts, giving you one final tug to make sure this is as far as he can go. You squeal, the brush against your walls making you ridiculously high. “That’s my girl.”

The praise has your stomach tightening, the pretty images flashing across the screen completely lost on you. You felt so full. The two of you rarely did it like this, without looking at each other straight on, but there was something about Jungkook’s looming figure being distorted by your brain’s memory, his touches wild and unpredictable, that made something inside of you twitch.

“Ohhh,” you whimper, muscles going slack for the briefest moment. The only thing that saves you from falling over is the killer grip on your forearms; when he tugs you up his cock runs along your pulsing walls. “Please, Daddy,” you beg, mouth feeling a thousand times heavier.

“The movie,” he repeats, slowly beginning to pull away from your clenching heat. You moan. “Tell me what it’s about,” he husks, punctuating his seemingly innocent statement with a harsh snap of his hips.

You wail, stumbling forward at the intensity. Still, it’s just a taste of what he has in store for you. He soon picks a pace, not too rushed or slow, as you struggle to keep your eyes open. “I-I don’t know,” you choke out, the images flashing across the gigantic screen practically unrecognizable to your muddled thoughts.

Behind you Jungkook tuts at your incompetence, thrusting forward with an intensity that would have sent you flying if not for the grip he has on you. “You don’t know?” he huffs, tugging your elbows back again as if to secure his grip on you.

His hips are moving fast now, every piston into your warm heat making you tremble. “Fffuck,” you gasp, eyes rolling to the back of your head as he continues ramming his cock into your pulsing hole. You’re met with a harsh yank that pulls you snugly onto his cock, your entire body screaming at the way he nudges against your cervix. Despite the pleasure it gives you, Jungkook seems anything but pleased.

“C’mon,” he huffs, twisting your arms painfully behind your back. “What did we say about that dirty mouth?” His question is followed with a snap of his hips that makes you choke on your spit. “Need you to be good for me, baby,” he groans.

“I-I am good,” you weakly defend, head hanging down limply as you fight to regain some semblance of your senses. But everything feels too much, from the rough push of his hips to the tight grip on your arms. His cock pulls out nearly all the way each time, swollen tip the only thing stopping him. Every thrust makes you quiver, every touch makes you melt.

You suppose he’d been too lenient on you up until now, and that final claim makes him snap. Jungkook scoffs, ramming his dick inside of you. “You’re being fucking terrible right now, doll,” he admits, hammering into you like a crazed man. You sob, the coil in your belly tightening with every brutal shove of his cock. It’s something about the way his composure withers away, all sweetness melting off as he thrusts into your cunt. “I’ve asked you twice now what the damn movie was about, and you didn’t answer either time.”

A hand clamps around your throat suddenly, yanking you up right until his breath fans across your ear. You’re not sure when your eyes had become so teary, but the images flickering across the screen are a foggy mess you couldn’t decipher even if you tried. “__,” he rasps against your ear, his voice scratchy. “Tell me. Now.”

You whimper as he shoves his way back inside, the angry head of his cock testing you. “T-Two girls, one’s a princess,” you cry, knees wobbling as the feeling in your core grows. “They look alike, and-and…”

“And?” Jungkook asks as you trail off, his words followed by a particularly brutal surge of his hips. His cock glides against your walls easily despite the way you clench around him.

“A-And they have problems they wanna avoid,” you stammer, the plot slipping in and out of your mind with every roll of his cock into your core. “So-so they swap places.”

Behind you, Jungkook snorts. “What a stupid fucking movie,” he says meanly, before he begins to piston his cock into you. You’re trembling by now, your orgasm looming over your head with each thrust.

Before you can warn him, the thin string holding you together snaps, the sudden flood of relief making your knees buck dangerously. Jungkook barely has enough time to catch you around the waist, holding you against him as a litany of curses and his name come spewing out of your mouth. “No, no,” you wail, your entire body twitching as the orgasm rolls over you. “Kook— Jungkook!”

“I’ve got you,” he reassures you, fingers holding you tight around the waist. The coffee table you had feared cracking your skull on finally comes to use as you press your hands onto the surface in a feeble attempt to steady yourself.

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, faintly aware of the rock hard cock between your pulsing walls, probably drenched in your cum now. “I-I didn’t—“

He shushes you quickly, settling the two of you back onto the couch. Funnily enough, he doesn’t bother pulling you off of him, his dick snug inside your cunt as he seats you on his lap. “You’re alright, sweetheart,” he comforts, hands soothingly running up your sides. You want to protest, want to get back on your knees and give him another chance to cum all over your face, but Jungkook nudges your chin with a knuckle. “Watch your movie,” he croons.

The Princess and the Pauper is literally the last thing on your mind right now; didn’t he realize how much you wanted to please him? Why was he choosing now to be so stubborn? Oh, that Jeon Jungkook, maybe Doyeon was right to call him an airhead.

Your slander campaign against your boyfriend is cut short when a hand flutters over your mound, thumb idly tracing over your sensitive clit. Before you can turn and look at him, Jungkook is rutting his hips against you slowly. “The screen, baby,” he says, and you want to argue that you can’t possibly enjoy a movie with him being so sneaky beneath you. The words get washed away when he presses down on your clit.

“Koo— Daddy,” you whine, lower lips still trembling from the orgasm you had two minutes ago. Jungkook responds with a kiss against your shoulder, hands trailing around your waist.

“No more of that,” he mumbles as he begins bouncing you on his cock. You moan, every inhale cut short by the shallow thrusts of his cock into your delicate walls. “Just your Kook now.”

“My… Kook,” you pant dreamily. Your cum provides an even better lubricant than before, lewd squelches filling the area alongside your cries as Jungkook chases both your second orgasms.

“Mhmm,” he groans, jostling you over his lap with no rhythm whatsoever. “Yours, baby.” You stretch your hands back, carding one set of fingers through the hair above his ear, pushing the strands away from his face. “Just like you’re mine.”

Something inside of you tightens painfully, and you’re not sure if it’s your heart or your pussy. You guess it’s both, as you stutter out, “y-your pretty girl?” Jungkook hums in agreement, repeating your favorite nickname back to you. The rest of your words die out between the two of you, lost in the slow and soft movements that fill in. You want to tell him you love him, adore him like no other, but every breath of air is stolen away by him.

Eventually the two of your are cumming, your second orgasms much quieter and slower compared to your first. You still mewl, wither against him when you cream his cock, and Jungkook catches you all the same. He guides you through the fog with kisses against your jaw, your dripping pussy helping him through his own.

When all is said and done and you’re both basking in a post-orgasmic make-out, you realize how sweaty and icky you are. “Ugh, this is gross,” you pout as he wiggles you off his lap. He pushes you beside him, letting you flop over the length of the couch as he reaches for something to clean you up with.

“You’re gross,” he retorts softly, blinking in that slow, drawn out way he does when you know he’s sleepy. His t-shirt runs along your neck, collecting the sweat there.

You nudge him with your foot. “I’m not the one who wanted to fuck during a Barbie movie,” you scoff, pinching the skin on his forearm when his gaze lingers a second too long on your creamy pussy. “Look somewhere else, weirdo.”

Jungkook laughs quietly, looking at you with an adoring expression on his face. He doesn’t even finish cleaning you off, tossing the soiled shirt somewhere off to the side in favor of cuddling into you. “Where? My Jumbotron?” he teases, raining down a parade of kisses against your face. “Don't wanna,” he smiles, too soft and boyish for the words that leave his lips next. “Wanna lick your pretty pussy clean.”

“Jeon Jungkook,” you scold, covering your face with your palms in embarrassment. “Look at your stupid IMAX screen and leave me alone.”

He cackles loudly now, in that evil witch way it took him a while to show you, and you know he’s got that big silly grin on his face now. . “The IMAX screen? The same one that made you,” a pause, “climax?”

“Get off of me.”

——

Just as you predicted, Jungkook’s mom gives him the scolding of a lifetime when she drops by the next weekend. The poor woman nearly faints at the theater screen on the wall, only to quickly regain herself. You giggle from your spot on the couch as she whacks his stupidly ripped bicep with the leek you’re supposed to chop up for dinner later.

What you’re not expecting is for her anger to shift to you as she scolds you for letting her idiotic son make such purchases. She gets one playful thwack against your side with the leek before your charming idiotic boyfriend swoops in to save you.

——

#goldenclosetnet #ksmutclub #networkbangtan #bangtanhq #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook smut #jjk smut #mine

3K notes · View notes

butgilinsky · 4 years ago

Text

someone will ache for your soul // np

warning; a lot of language i’m sry, argument btw best friends, talks abt a shitty ex bf but there’s nothing explicit

summary; in a world where you acquire tattoos across various parts of your body once you fall in love with someone, you have to hide yours from your best friend.

word count; 6.7k+

a/n: kind of a soulmate au but not really i guess? i saw this prompt somewhere online and idk where it’s from so the general idea of gaining tattoos from those you fall in love with is not mine but the rest of the fic is. okay thx bye(:

add yourself to my nhl taglist!

When you were younger, you loved it. You loved looking down at your ankle and seeing the small butterfly just beside your ankle. You’d had it your whole life, though you still weren’t entirely sure how a tattoo grew up with you, but you accepted it. After all, it’s all that you knew.

Everybody’s born with a tattoo on their ankle, a small tattoo that has theirselves embedded into it. However, the older you get the more you realize that it’s not the tattoo you’re born with that makes the biggest impact on you, it’s others’. Every time you fall in love with somebody, your skin makes room for their tattoo on it. Your mom’s tattoo, a small star on her left ankle, shined bright from its place on your father’s wrist, somehow separate from the couple tattoos he collected over the years.

You remember the day you found out about the tattoos, perched in your mom’s lap and listening to her talk to your aunt about it. You remember tracing their tattoos with your small fingers while they told you various stories about their loves and how they grew up collecting tattoos on their skin. You were scared, asked your mom what happened if you never got any more than your single tattoo on your ankle. She told you that you would, that anybody would be lucky to collect your small butterfly somewhere on their body.

You remember the day you got your second tattoo, the paper plane that sat on the back of your left shoulder that now held the role as a painful reminder of your first love. You loved Cory, but the time for the two of you had come and gone. The paper airplane, though never in your line of sight, was still a painful reminder of the times you shared with the boy and how he broke your heart at the end of it all just before moving to college.

You had to go through senior year alone, newly broken up with and with your best friend hours away from home. You couldn’t blame Nolan, not when he was out doing the thing he loved so much. Being in Brandon was good for him, it was all that he wanted, and it wasn’t all that far away from Winnipeg anyways. You still drove out to see Nolan’s games, even if it ran up the miles on your car and had you spending late nights driving back home by yourself. You would’ve done anything for Nolan, and it truly showed during your senior year.

Nolan’s draft day was a rude awakening for you. You jumped up when his name was called, hugging him as tight as you possibly could before hiding your giddy expression behind your hands. You were excited for him, even if he was going all the way out to Philadelphia. You wanted him to be happy, and you could tell within seconds of his name being called that he was going to do just fine in Philly.

You didn’t notice until you got home and your heart sank into your stomach. Your adrenaline high had worn off, and the reality of everything around you began to sink in. You knew what it was the second you laid your eyes on it, black lines etched into the skin of your sternum. You thought it was an odd placement, though it was hard to miss it when you stepped out of the shower and it stood tall and proud and ready to be found.

You knew what it was, you’d seen the shape etched into Nolan’s ankle far more times than you could count. It mocked you, the snake coiled up the same way your memory sketched it out in your brain, and now it was imprinted perfectly into your skin. You touched it, rubbed it, tried to wash it off. You had just taken a shower, just washed the day off of you and down the drain and now you were standing in the middle of a hotel bathroom, rubbing at the spot between your breasts mercilessly. This couldn’t be happening, not to you, not when Nolan was about to move thousands of miles away from you.

But it was happening, because the black line that followed no real pattern never faded, despite the skin around it turning raw from your insistent attempts at washing it off. It was here to stay, no matter what happened in your life down the road. It didn’t matter that you had no heads up, no warning that you were falling head over heels in love with your best friend.

You knew it wouldn’t wash off, but that didn’t stop you from trying. These tattoos were forever, you knew that. You learned from a ripe, young age about obtaining your love’s tattoo. You learned about it growing up, you talked about it with friends and family, hell this wasn’t even your first tattoo that wasn’t your own. You knew the drill, you knew the routine, but that didn’t make it any easier to deal with.

You were 18, watching him sign contracts and make agreements of his big move in a few short weeks. You couldn’t believe it, that you were losing him in a time like this. It made dropping him off at the airport all that much harder, cheeks wet and eyes bloodshot as you clung to him for dear life. You knew his parents wanted to say bye, that his sisters were waiting patiently while you cried into his shoulder, but you couldn’t let go.

He didn’t know about the snake on your sternum, nor did you plan on telling him. You couldn’t drop a bomb like that on him just before he moved to a different country, finally living out the dream he’d had ever since you could remember. Nolan wasn’t Nolan without hockey, and you were aware of that. You were painfully aware of that.

So you didn’t tell him.

You spent too many nights curled up in your bed, clinging to your pillow to muffle the whimpers and whines that pushed through your lips and out into the air. You tried to ignore the sinking feeling in your chest at any given moment, and you did everything in your power to keep everything under wraps. You couldn’t tell anyone, no matter how bad it hurt to be in love with your best friend that now lived so far away from you.

It was hard, hiding it. You had to hide it from your family and friends, and sometimes that was easy. During the cold months you were seemingly off the hook, but when summer rolled around and your friends dragged you out to the lake every chance they got, you were in a bit of trouble. You had to carefully choose what bathing suits you wore and had to make sure nothing slipped or faltered throughout the day.

You’d made it three years without a slip up. Even on nights when Nolan came home and you were mere inches away from him, you couldn’t find it in you to tell him. Even when he was curled up into your side and holding you against his chest in the most comfortable way, you couldn’t say anything. You couldn’t make a move on him.

And now you were in Philly, standing in an arena that had you shivering but smiling brightly from the opposite side of the glass. You smiled every time Nolan skated by, even more when he assisted Travis in the first goal of the game and scored one of his own late in the second period. You were buzzing, adrenaline pumping and excitement shining deep in your chest. Watching Nolan do what he loved would never get old, not when the smile he wore was enough to wash away any fear or worry you’ve ever had.

You remember nights when you couldn’t sleep and Nolan would hold you. You remembered nights when you were crying over the phone to him and he snuck out of his room and into your own. You remembered fights you had and the way he made you walk home one night after one of your bigger ones.

You were walking out of TIm Horton’s, mere feet away from Nolan’s car before you tumbled into an argument you’d been trying to avoid for a few days now. You were dating Cory at the time, and Nolan couldn’t believe you were telling him that you couldn’t go to his game on Friday night, regardless of the fact that you’d promised him for weeks now that you’d be there. It was hard for you to catch games during the week, but this one was on a Friday night with plenty of time for you to finish the school day and drive over to Brandon.

But now you were telling him that you couldn’t go, and no matter how sorry you were, Nolan couldn’t forgive you. He said you’d blown him off for Cory more times than he could accept anymore. You had to call your sister, figuring she was the only one that would pick you up and give you a ride home without threatening to leave you in the parking lot in favor of beating Nolan to a pulp.

None of that mattered though. None of it mattered when you were faced with the boy you’d fallen in love with doing the thing he cherished most. When he left the locker room with a smile brighter than any of his teammates had seen in a long time that was directed straight at you, you knew none of it mattered.

Your feet left the ground, hanging in the air while your best friend clung to your frame tightly. He thanked you for coming, told you that he scored the goal just for you, that he scored every goal for you. You figured it was the adrenaline talking, that he was just basking in the big win against their biggest rivals. That plus the fact that Nolan could barely come to terms with the fact that you were here all for him.

You’d been in Philly before, had visited Nolan a few times over his years with the Flyers. You’d met practically everyone there was to meet and had gotten fairly close with his closest friends by default, seeing as they were always around when you were. Everything was going well this time around, everyone was having fun and getting along and it almost seemed like nothing could fall out of place.

You were standing in the kitchen with Nolan and Travis when Nolan’s name was called, beckoning him out into the rest of the house while you and Travis rallied drinks for the group. He tried to ignore them, tried to help you pile up on wine and beers for the rest of the group but Travis practically kicked him out of the kitchen. Travis said he could help you, that the two of you didn’t need Nolan’s help and that someone else clearly did.

It took all of five minutes for Travis to spill red wine all over your shirt. Thankfully for him, the few glasses you’d thrown back throughout the night washed over any sense of anger or annoyance you’d usually pick up and you simply laughed it off. He felt so bad, begged you to forgive him and let you buy him a new shirt, but all you did was insist that he find you a new one for now and that you could figure out the rest of it when the two of you weren’t tipsy and surrounded by your friends.

Travis ducked out of the kitchen for a second before turning back up and leading you into a hallway on the other end of the house. He told you that Claude never really let them wander his house without a little supervision, claiming that they break everything that they touch, but this was a special case. Claude loved you, and he wasn’t going to let you walk around with a wine stained shirt for the rest of the night, especially when it’s Travis’s fault in the first place.

You laid back on the bed in the room you were unfamiliar with, smiling up at the ceiling and humming to yourself while Travis dug through Claude’s closet.

“I know Ryanne has a stack of those shirts somewhere.” he spoke gently to himself, refraining from throwing clothes all over the room and instead digging for one through multiple piles. You laughed to yourself, not even sure if he knew that you could hear him.

“Just pick one, Teeks!” he huffed and chucked one at you, laughing loudly when it landed directly on your face.

You whined and sat up, reaching for the hem of your shirt without much thought surrounding the subject before peeling it off. All you could think about was how sticky your stomach had gotten from the red spot.

It was the small gasp that got you, the one that brought you back down to Earth and tore you out of your wine-induced haze. It was Travis’s eyes locked in on the spot in the middle of your chest that triggered every panic siren in between your ears.

“Is that-”

“TK you can’t tell him.” you rushed out, pushing yourself to stand up as you pressed a bright orange Flyers shirt against your chest. Your hands were shaking, and Travis’s eyes were glued to the spot of the tattoo even without being able to see it anymore. He knew what that snake was, he knew it all too well. He’d known Nolan for a long time now, and he’d seen the snake enough times to commit it to memory.

He was sure you had Nolan’s snake in the middle of your chest, and now Travis knew you were in love with Nolan.

“Trav, I’m serious.” he shook his head, trying to clear himself of the intrusive thoughts and nodded gently. He couldn’t tell Nolan. He wasn’t entirely sure how he was going to keep that from him, especially when he had been looking for your tattoo on Nolan’s skin for years now.

Travis wasn’t dense. He saw the way that Nolan looked at you, heard the tone he used when he talked about you. He saw how excited Nolan got when he knew you were about to fly into Philly, and he saw how upset Nolan got when you left. He might not have been the brightest bulb in the box, but he knew that there was something lying under the surface of you and Nolan’s friendship.

He tried to have this conversation before, had tried more times than he could count at this point. The only difference now was that there was hard proof, there was evidence that he was right all along. But now he couldn’t use that evidence, not when you were looking at him with wide eyes and begging him to keep it between the two of you.

“Fine, but we’re talking about this before you go back home.” you nodded, figuring that it was good enough for you if it meant he never told Nolan about it.

Except, there was one small problem.

The door swung open, dark and narrowed eyes landing on you and Travis, less than a foot between the two of you with you topless, a single shirt held between your hands and in front of your chest.

“My best friend?” the disappointment in his voice tugged at your heart and punched you in the gut simultaneously. The guilt hanging in your chest was barely justified, given this was one large misunderstanding, but the look on Nolan’s face was enough to have your shoulders falling.

“Nolan, it’s not-”

“My best fucking friend? Of all people you had to choose him?” his eyes were wide and glued to yours, anger mixing with disgust in the back of his mind. He couldn’t believe you’d do this to him.

“Pat, you don’t understand-”

“Fuck you.” Nolan spoke slowly and clearly, shooting Travis the sharpest glare he could produce. His voice sent a chill down your spine, unsure if you had ever heard him speak with such malice. “Both of you.”

Nolan spun on the balls of his feet and left the room, but you didn’t let him get far before you were following him. You tugged the shirt over your head, not even bothering to turn back to Travis to apologize before you were running after Nolan, calling his name down the hallway.

“Nolan, please-”

“I don’t want to hear it, honestly.” he threw over his shoulder, but you weren’t accepting that. You weren’t going to let him walk away right now, not when you didn’t do anything wrong.

“Just listen to me!” you stopped walking, stopped running. You stood in the middle of a hallway that had pictures lining the walls around you. Smiling faces and cheery laughs suffocated you in a time where you stood toe to toe with your best friend, the same one who was looking down at you like he’d never known you. “You don’t get to assume things and just walk away!”

“Yeah, well you don’t get to come out here after not seeing me for six months and sleep with my best friend! You don’t get to do that to me! You don’t get to use me to sleep with professional athletes.” any words you had swimming through your mind halted at his accusation. They fizzled out, unable to produce a coherent thought after you heard your best friend accuse you of using him.

“After all this time, you think i’m using you? You think that I came here to sleep with Travis?”

“You want to know what I think? I think you’ve always used me. You used me to escape your awful boyfriend in high school and you used me to leave home when things got bad. You used me to get over your shitty boyfriend when he left you in the fucking dust and here you are now, using me to sleep with my best fucking friend.” you were in shock, lips parted and throat constricting as you tried to let his words sit.

“If you wanted to whore yourself out to NHL players, you should’ve just said so, puck bunny.” The nickname weighed heavily in your chest, bringing you back to a time where Nolan went on and on about how much puck bunnies got under his skin. It brought you back to a time when Nolan would never call you that, would never even put you and the name in the same conversation.

“Patty!” Nolan’s eyes left yours, casting over your shoulder and locking with another pair that he might have been more furious at. Sure, he was angry at you. He couldn’t believe you’d do something like this, not after growing up with him just a few houses down. He couldn’t believe you’d stoop this low, but Travis? Travis knew how Nolan felt about you. Even if he didn’t admit it, even if he’d never say that was all true, Travis knew. He knew better than anyone how Nolan felt, and that made it all the more worse.

“Don’t talk to her like that.” you bit down on your bottom lip, hard enough to sting slightly but you couldn’t look away from where your eye level left you. You couldn’t look up at Nolan, not when he was this angry at you, and you surely couldn’t look at Travis. You knew that’d only make things worse.

“Now you get to tell me how to talk to her? Does that mean the two of you are a thing now? That’s funny, seeing as you have a girlfriend, Teeks. Didn’t know you were into home wrecking, y/n.”

“Fuck you.” you spoke softly, not even sure if he had heard you before he looked down at you with a puzzled look stretched across his face.

“So I can pick up TK’s sloppy seconds? No thanks, angel.” you shoved him then, shoved him hard. He didn’t move much due to the way his feet dug into the ground and he had muscle on you, but you got your point across by the force delivered to his chest.

“You’re a dick, you know that? You walk into a room and think you know everything that’s going on, but you don’t, okay? You don’t know what happens when you’re gone. You don’t know what happened in there or what happens at home when you’re here. You don’t know anything, okay?”

“That’s bold, given that I just walked in on you topless, seconds away from kissing my best friend, y/n-”

“Is there a reason you feel the need to keep reminding me that Travis is your best friend?”

“Because I need you to know that you’re not.”

The world titled on its axis then, the rude awakening you’d walked into becoming all too much for you to handle. With the realization that Nolan wanted nothing to do with you, you nodded once and walked around him so you could leave. It was only then that you noticed the audience you’d gathered, the better half of the Flyers roster circled around the room with a few of their significant others. You flashed everyone a pained smile and thanked Claude and Ryanne for inviting you before leaving the house.

You weren’t even down the driveway when your lungs gave way, gasping for air while tears streamed down your cheeks. Your heart hurt and your stomach turned, and you knew it was going to be a long night.

“You really are a dick.” Travis was going to walk past him, was going to avoid the lot of people and follow you outside. He knew you didn’t know where you were, nor did you have a way to get to or from anywhere else. You could order an uber to Nolan’s, but then what? Kevin might let you into the apartment but where would you stay? On the couch in a living room you weren’t welcome in? Not likely.

“I’m the dick? You know how I feel about her!”

“Nothing happened!”

“Bullshit, TK! I know that look on your face and I know that she sure as hell looked embarrassed-”

“I spilt wine on her shirt, you fucking idiot! I knocked into her when we were in the kitchen and I made her entire glass of wine spill down the front of her shirt, so I went to get her another one. I didn’t want her to sit in a soaking wet, stained shirt for the rest of the night so I went to get her another.”

“And she changed in front of you because-?”

“Because she was drunk and knew I wouldn’t make a move on her. Because she knows that I respect you and care about you far more than I care about making a move on her. I don’t look at her that way, Pat. You know I would never do that to you.” Nolan sucked on his teeth then, casting his eyes away from Travis’s and looking down at his feet.

“Do I?” Travis scoffed then, not bothering to give Nolan a response before walking past everybody else and out to his car.

After a few minutes of driving around, he found you at the park just down the street, leaning against the chain that supported the swing you sat on. He couldn’t see your tears from his car, but he could see the way you flinched when he shut the car door behind him.

“You okay?” you shook your head, eyes filled to the brim with tears that blurred your vision and broke Travis’s heart.

“I’m in love with him, Teeks. I love him more than anything in this entire world and he thinks I’m using him. He t-thinks- he thinks I-”

“Hey, it’s okay.” Travis pulled you onto your feet and into his chest, wrapping his arms tightly around you in order to attempt to calm you down.

“He thinks-” your sobs rang through the air, piercing through Travis’s heart and resulting in him squeezing you tighter, letting you get all of it out while no one else was around.

“He doesn’t think that. He knows you’re not using him, he just can’t bear to think about you with anybody other than him.” you shook your head, not allowing yourself to believe Travis, even though he knew Nolan pretty well. If there was anything to know about Nolan, you or Travis would know about it.

“He loves you, okay? He loves you more than he knows how to handle and he can’t handle losing you before he’s even had you.” you flinched when a car backfired, jumping inches off of the ground and making Travis laugh gently from beside you when you let out a shaky breath of relief.

Your eyes found the familiar car drive by, slowing down the slightest bit by the park only to take off towards the entrance of the neighborhood quite quickly. You knew it was Nolan, you knew that car by heart.

You ended up on Travis’s couch the night, wrapped in a warm pair of sweatpants that Travis threw in the dryer for you before giving them to you. You tied the drawstring in a tight knot so they’d stay up and pulled on a hoodie that he offered to you shortly after. He listened to you reminisce on all of the memories you had with Nolan. He learned more about his best friend and who he was growing up, but also learned a fair amount about you as well.

He felt for you. He couldn’t believe Nolan said all of those things to you, but he also knew that Nolan must not be doing well right now. He texted Kevin when he got back to his apartment, saying that you were safe with him, and that he’d text Nolan but didn’t for obvious reasons. Kevin assured Travis he’d let Nolan know you were safe, despite Nolan not asking about your well being. Not that he hadn’t thought about it, but he figured if he asked he’d be left with a less than likable answer.

Nolan didn’t sleep well that night, replaying how bad he fucked up over and over again in his mind. He didn’t believe you at first, didn’t even believe Travis when he told him what truly happened. He did, however, believe his captain when he said that Travis asked him for a shirt for you just a few minutes before it all happened. Ryanne brought out your wine soaked shirt after the two of you had left, and despite Nolan coming to terms with the fact that he was wrong, he couldn’t forgive himself for the things he said to you.

He couldn’t believe he accused you of it all before going on to accuse you of using him for your benefit. He knew it was stupid, since you’d been around far before the NHL. you were there when he got drafted, you were there when he was named captain of the Wheat Kings, and you were there when he almost quit hockey when he was younger. He remembered having you by his side through everything growing up and even now, even while living so far away from each other. If he called, you answered. If he needed help, you helped him. Hockey had nothing to do with that.

He looked down at the butterfly on his thigh, the one that took residence right beside another one of his tattoos, one that he had to keep hidden from you for well over two years now. He traced his finger over the small image, let his mind wander over all the possibilities of where yours could be if you had a snake somewhere inked into your skin. It’s a thought he often had, wondering where you’d want it, if you’d want it.

By the time Nolan came to his senses, it was too late. He’d already gotten through an entire practice and by the time he got back, by the time he got home, he realized you were gone. Your things that were piled into a corner of his room were gone. The jersey he’d given you for the game against the pens was folded up nicely on the pillow of his bed and a sticky note with your unmistakeable handwriting on it left a hole in his chest.

I’m sorry I ever made you doubt me.

He couldn’t reach for his phone fast enough, couldn’t call you enough times to break your voicemail box. He called Travis, pained to hear that you were already on a flight back to Winnipeg. He wanted to leave, wanted to drive to the airport right this second and catch a flight back home to tell you he’s incredibly sorry, but he couldn’t. He had a roadie in a few days and a game tomorrow night and he couldn’t just leave.

He did his best to contact you, tried to call every person in your family and was disappointed every time. Even when both of his sisters sat down and called him to collectively tell him that he was the biggest idiot either of them had ever met. Nobody could believe Nolan blew you off like that, not even Nolan himself.

He knew he fucked up, but he hadn’t realized how bad he fucked things up until one of your friends from back home posted a picture of you on social media a few months later. It had been at least four months since he’d spoken to you, since he saw you. It had been too long of him having nothing but the sliver of content he got from social media. He hated that his friends had chosen your side in the thick of it all, though he guessed it was easier to do that with him in Philadelphia and the rest of you in the same place.

But it wasn’t until a picture of you with a wide smile and a new bathing suit popped up on his phone that he knew the true weight of the situation in front of him. There you were, in a baby blue bathing suit that showed the same shape between your breasts that he’d grown up with beside his ankle. His tattoo was committed to memory, ingrained into his brain with no room to forget about it, especially when he saw it on you, etched into your skin the same way it had been etched into his.

He thought back to the paper airplane on your shoulder, the mark that had haunted him for years. He hated your boyfriend, hated the sight of his tattoo on your skin. He hated everything that had to do with the sheer thought of you with somebody else, even if he didn’t know how to deal with that. And now, with his thumb sitting on the butterfly on his thigh and his eyes on the snake on your sternum, he knew he had to fix this. He knew he had to fix things because these tattoos, though permanent themselves, didn’t guarantee him a life as your boyfriend, nor your husband.

Nolan remembered a time when he thought these tattoos were stupid. He remembered when he thought it was a thing for soulmates and you told him that thought was wrong, that it just reminded you of a love you felt, even if it was eventually lost. He remembers you telling him that you were scared you’d never be loved forever, that you were scared to only be loved momentarily.

But that wasn’t the case. Nolan would never stop loving you. He couldn’t forget about the way your laugh brightened his day without question, or the way your nose scrunched when you laughed. He couldn’t forget about the way you bugged him for ice cream on a bad day, or how good you looked with his name and number stretched across your back.

He couldn’t remember a day he wasn’t in love with you.

So Nolan flew to Winnipeg the second the Flyers’ season was over. He didn’t bask in getting knocked out of the playoffs like some of the other guys, didn’t dwell on the loss in the sixth game of the series because he couldn’t. He couldn’t dwell on a loss when he was so focused on trying to prevent a second one.

He had called everybody he could think of once he got off the plane. Some didn’t answer, some didn’t know the answer to his question, and some just flat out refused to humor him. You weren’t home, he knew that much by the absence of your car in the driveway and your sister telling him that you weren’t there, and that she wouldn’t let him inside even if you were. It wasn’t until he rounded a familiar corner after a phone call he’d been thankful for.

Jordan told him where you were, unable to lie to his childhood friend when you were hanging out with everyone. You were wearing a bathing suit again, though it didn’t matter for a while. The sun was high in the air and you weren’t the only that had shed yourself of your coverup earlier in the afternoon. You were playing basketball with Jordan, oblivious to the fact that he’d given you up just ten minutes prior to the gate door swinging open and Nolan letting himself into the backyard.

Your eyes found him easily, as if he was a magnet you could never repel. Your shoulders fell for a moment, your instinct of wanting to comfort him seeping in before you could tell it not to. Of course you kept up with his team, watching every game you possibly could until the very last one. You knew he’d been knocked out of the playoff less than 48 hours ago, and you had no idea he was coming home.

You hadn’t realized the weight of the situation until you noticed his eyes locked in on your chest. You folded your arms over your chest in an attempt to cover the snake, but it didn’t make Nolan look anywhere else.

“Who told you I was here?” your voice was soft. You knew he didn’t drive around the entire town looking for your car, though you weren’t sure it was something too far out of his reach. Nolan would do just about anything to get something if he wanted it bad enough.

“Bo did.” you glared at the boy not far from you, the one that you shouldn’t have trusted with something like this in the first place. You should’ve known Jordan would do something like this.

“Patty, what the fuck?”

“Just shut up, Bo.” Jordan rolled his eyes and tossed the basketball to Nolan who smacked it away and into the grass.

“Well, I don’t want to talk to you.” you tried to stand your ground, even with Jordan giggling to himself before walking over to your friends not too far from where you currently stood.

“Just give me five minutes.”

Nolan’s eyes bore into yours, the same pair of bright blue eyes that you had been avoiding for months. You wanted to answer every call and every text, but how could you? How could you pick up the phone and listen to his voice through the speaker after all he’d said to you in front of his entire team. And then on top of it all, he left you stranded in Philly, in the middle of a city, country even, where you had nobody to turn to and nowhere to go.

“I know you don’t want to talk to me-”

“Then leave, Nols.” he shook his head, taking a step towards you. “I don’t want to talk to you.”

“I know I hurt you-”

“You’re right! You hurt me! You hurt me so bad Nolan and I can’t go through that again so if you’re here to let history repeat itself, then can you just go?” he shook his head, firmly planting his feet into the ground and refusing to move.

“I know you don’t want to see me or listen to me or give me the benefit of the doubt but I need you to hear me out.” you sighed, letting your arms fall to your side. You weren’t sure how he seemingly broke down all of your walls without even lifting a finger. You watched his eyes flick down to the image on your chest, you even let him raise a finger once he stood in front of you and trace the shape of the snake. “It suits you, y’know?”

“Did you really come all this way to tell me that this suits me?” there was a hint of amusement in your voice, enough of it to bring a smile to Nolan’s lips.

“I know I fucked up-”

“Big time.” you cut him off, shooting him a gentle smile and nod that told you you’d stop interrupting him. “Sorry, continue.”

“I know I fucked up and I said a lot of shit I didn’t mean and that’s not an excuse but- look, I know i shouldn’t have said all of that shit. I should’ve believed the two of you. I should’ve believed you when you told me nothing happened and I shouldn’t have said you were using me. I know you’re not using me. There was no way you could’ve known that I was going to be in the NHL, and you wouldn’t have stuck around all this time just to be a puck bunny.”

It wasn’t like you to forgive all that easily. You drew lines in the sand and refused to let someone fuck you over twice. You weren’t big on second chances, especially when you thought people didn’t deserve them. You were a straight shooter, no bullshit. But those walls cracked for Nolan, they fell for Nolan. None of your boundaries were drawn in place with Nolan in mind. He had broken down every wall, overstepped every boundary since the day he met you. You couldn’t block him out, couldn’t lead him out of your life.

As much as you hated to admit it, you needed Nolan Patrick. You were in love with Nolan Patrick.

And the little butterfly on his thigh told you that he loved you all the same.

Your lips turned up at the sight, your eyes locked in on the place where his shorts had ridden up and the small image danced happily on his skin.

“How long have you had that?” you pointed down at it, barely noticing the way his eyes stayed trained on you through the entirety of the situation. You were looking at his tattoo, but he was looking at you. He was always looking at you, which only made it that much more surprising that he hadn’t picked up on the snake on your chest.

“Since before I got drafted.” he spoke softly, hitting you with a force you didn’t know existed. You were floored by the realization, somewhat thinking that he’d only had it for a small bit of time. You’d seen his thighs, seen his tattoos and you’d never seen the small butterfly etched into his skin.

“How long have you had that?” his finger traced over the snake one more time, sending a chill down your spine that you had felt more times than you could count when you were around Nolan. It was a feeling that was never expected but always welcome.

“Draft day.” you breathed out, feeling the weight of the world lift off of your shoulders. You were finally admitting it, finally letting the love of your life know just how long you’ve been a mess for him. Little did you know how much of a mess he was for you.

“I’m so sorry, y/n.”

“It’s okay.” you spoke softly, a smile gracing your lips at the realization that things were falling back into place, even after all this time of not talking to him.

“It’s okay?” you nodded, taking another step toward him so you were chest to chest.

“As long as you don’t fuck it up again.” he let out a small laugh, his hands finding the sides of your face just before pressing his lips to yours.

“I wouldn’t dream of it.”

italics mean it wouldn’t let me tag you!!

nolpat tag list; @extratragic @babytkachuks @teenagekook @stfukie @kiedhara @sadcupofcoffee @sidscrosbyy @rebel-without-care @baby-cat-nol-pat @creator-appreciator

tagging the himbos as well; @bricksatlandyswindow @damndunner @anxietyandtacos @sortagaysortahigh @dmonchld

#nolan patrick #nolpat #nolan x reader #nolan patrick x reader #nhl #nhl fic #nhl imagine #hockey fic #hockey #hockey imagine #philadelphia flyers #flyers

478 notes · View notes

dana-chan-the-control-brain · 4 years ago

Note

(Massimo is the dad from Luca just in case. Anyway he has absolutely stolen my heart 😔✨)

Since the dawn of time...

Cartoon animated Dads have been gotten wrong so many times.

Here's a list of Dana's No-go Cartoon Dad troupes that make me want to grab my torch and pitchforks:

1. Overly possessive of their daughter to the point where they'll shoot or strangle any boy who comes within a 50 meter radius of them.

Dads that Come to mind: Adam Sandler from Hotel Transylvania (yes I know his name is Dracula, but come on. He's Adam Sandler)

2. Fathers who are massively disappointed in their sons and throw them under the bus and their son needs to prove something to them where it's in question if the Father even likes their child at all unless they go through ridiculous hoops or make something of themselves. Tend to have ridiculously high standards either set by tradition or their own life experiences, expecting their son to turn out like a carbon copy of themselves when they were younger.

Dads that Come to Mind: Buck Cluck from Chicken Little

I'm watching you but you're on thin ice buddy, but at least they got better kinda: The Dad from How to Train your Dragon, and Professor Membrane (yes, even my beloved science himbo)

3. A manchild that barely parents their kids. Tend to be VERY stupid but mean well, but doesn't tend to show much parenthood or a loving relationship with their son, and treat them more like a friend or partner in crime at bare minimum, barely acknowledges they even have kids. Extremely stupid and acts as just another child for the "Nagging wife" to take care of.

Fathers that come to mind: Homer from the Simpsons (the later years) and Peter from Family Guy, Timmy's Dad and/or Cosmo from the Fairly Odd Parents

So yeah. Massimo joins my wall of fame of Animated Cartoon Dads.

Also...

I need to give Luca props for acknowledging something about Fathers that MOST animated films... heck, most films... DON'T.

It's a throwaway line, but it really means a lot to me.

But Luca's Dad, expresses REGRET for being despondent, and too caught up in his own Hobbies to even really try to parent his son or be emotionally available for him

JUST...

YES!!!

That's exactly how my dad was! Being autistic (most likely he was never diagnosed) but he was often caught up in his own hobbies and always working, so he could get wrapped up in his own head and while my Dad clearly loved me and his family... sometimes he just wasn't emotionally available to talk or be there.

And Luca was the first film I saw that said:

"Hey. This is a problem, I realize that, and I apologize for it, and I should be more emotionally available to my kids"

It's a VERY common flaw with MANY fathers. And it doesn't mean that they were a bad person or even a bad parent. It just means that they let some stuff fall by the wayside because they can get so wrapped up in their own Hobbies.

Being Autistic and Neurodivergent myself... I UNDERSTAND and RECONIZE that behavior.

But just coming out and apologizing for it, and realizing that they had to set even MORE time for their kid too...

Like that's really admirable and it was the line that made me fall in love with the movie.

Because it's just a specific yet common experience and Luca's Dad realizing he had to be better

(that and the art and everything else and the characters and Italy and everything was just delightful)

But I rarely see that problem with Dads acknowledged, so it was cool to mention it, and even Luca's parents trying harder and their own personal growth throughout the movie was great too (even if they drowned every kid in the town to do it)

Also Massimo supporting his daughter but just worried she'll overdo it and get hurt is just... VERY good. At no point he forbids her from participating in the race. He just voices his concerns, very delicately cause he knows this is important to her.... and once Luca and Alberto are revealed for seapeople, he is immediately supportive of them. They've been living in his house for WEEKS he knows them, he knows what kind of kids they are and he was already set to protect them from any townfolk who thought different, no questions asked.

(makes me wonder in a rough draft of the script, he actually did have his arm cut off by a sea monster, but they scrapped it because it would have been harder for them to side with the boys... or maybe this was always the intention, Idk...)

Anyways... Luca is a good film. See it if you haven't.

#danachan's replies #danachan's rants #Luca #Luca Spoilers #MA! Dana is talking about animated dads again

52 notes · View notes

aespawpaq · 3 years ago

Text

Netflix and Chill (3)

IMAX and CLIMAX

summary; The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Sunghoon gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack. warnings; fingering, blowjobs, tit play, praise kink, standing sex, unprotected sex, reverse cowgirl kinda idk lol, daddy kink that morphs into i love u kink tags; sh is an avid history channel viewer, sh hates Barbie movies ik we took an L today girls 😔, sh goes thru like 4 personality changes (commanding > soft > mean > in love), honestly idk what to tag it’s a mess, he’s still cheesy and romantic but also 👀 just read word count; 9.8k

Sunghoon sees it on display during your weekly Target trip. You know he won’t say anything because despite how long you’ve dated he still likes to pretend he’s the epitome of adult maturity. Yet the way his eyes linger over the electronics section, cart rolling to a stop in front of the massive screen, tells you all you need to know.

“Baby, the toilet paper is this way,” you sing, giving the front of the cart a gentle tug that pulls it and his thoughts away from the television that seems to hold reign over his interest.

“Ah,” he mumbles as he shakes himself out of whatever trance he was in. “Right.”

The Target trip ends rather uneventfully; you grab all the items you came for and make the executive decision of swapping Sunghoon’s tangerine bathroom soap with strawberry instead. Normally he’d put up a good fight, argue about the comfort that came with consistency, but today he says nothing. You chalk it up to that flatscreen that hypnotized him earlier.

Sunghoon scoffs as he finally gets the two of you back onto the main road, Target and the flat screen left behind. “I didn’t,” he defends. “Just thought it was neat.”

You snort. “Neat. Okay, grandpa, did it tickle your pickle?” you tease, obnoxiously leaning over the center console to get all in his face. Sunghoon greets your proximity with a palm against your forehead.

You gag. “That’s actually disgusting.”

——

You graduate on a Saturday and your dorm stay expires on the Tuesday that follows. You spend the entire day shoving all your belongings into a variety of trash bags, from your weighted blanket to the collection candles you and Isa swore to light every night and never did. Speaking of Isa, she cries through the entire process. From the moment you take down the first wall decoration she’s in tears, and not even her mom, who’s come to help out, can quell her emotions. The girl cries and cries. She cries throughout the clean up, like she hadn’t spent the week before cursing the funky aircon system to hell and back. It’s probably the nostalgia that comes with leaving college, you assume. When Sunghoon picks you up around noon, even your eyes are glassy.

Sunghoon’s mom, who you only just met a few months ago, is over at his place when you arrive. You get along fairly well, in fact, you would even go as far as to claim you got along really well. You had first met her over this past spring break when Sunghoon invited you along to his family trip to some tropical island. The Jeons were lovely people. In fact, had Sunghoon not explicitly introduced them as his parents, you would’ve thought they were some sitcom actors carrying out the role of most in love, sophisticated lovers to ever exist. Yeah, they were super into each other, and you suppose it’s why Sunghoon is the way he is, loves as hard as he does. The only thing that broke their attention away from each other was the sight of their precious Sunghoonie bringing you to a family event.

It was hard to keep them entertained. Every second was spent worrying about your appearance, your demeanor, whether or not you looked like a devil beside their (your) angelic boy. It certainly didn’t help that Sunghoon was wearing that obnoxiously floral shirt at the restaurant you went to, the first three buttons undone almost lazily. It was a look your boyfriend rarely showed, always so meticulously dressed. Of course, he had that cute boyish style of his that consisted almost exclusively of baggy pants and designer tee’s a little too plain to cost as much as they did. But even those outfits had a specific Sunghoon rhythm to them— the darker tones always went with the pants that had twelve buckles on them; the long sleeves always went with the jeans. He was awfully particular about those kinds of self-set rules, and this jarring floral print did not fit any of them. It was too provocative, the black skinny jeans he’d paired with it too devious.

Maybe he knew what he was doing to you dressed so hot like this, but knowing Sunghoon, you doubt he did. His parents hadn’t batted a single lash his way, eyes laser focused on your every word as you stumbled through three plates and dessert. It was a battle you fought alone, and one you barely survived.

So despite you impressing his parents, she still gives you an odd look when you enter Sunghoon’s swanky townhouse with all your garbage bags of items. You promise her it’s just for the weekend, until your parents clean out your old room that they’ve filled to the brim with holiday decorations and miscellaneous objects. You’re not trying to take her baby chick out of the nest. (Yet.)

You watch TV for a couple hours, mostly her favorite soap operas on his 67 in. screen. It takes up a huge spot on the wall where it’s mounted, glossy black screen glaring back at you. Even his mom scolds him for such a huge screen, and you wonder how she’d feel about the absolute giant he ogled at the Target last week. Super angry, you think, and the image of her raging in flames while Sunghoon apologizes like the momma’s boy he is makes you giggle.

You pounce on him the second she’s gone. He goes down with a muffled yelp against the sofa, hands grasping at your waist until you straddle him and begin going to town. Your fun lasts all of two minutes before the old lady novella Sunghoon’s mom had been watching cuts to commercials and a loud advertisement for irritable bowel syndrome medication begins playing.

“Oh, that is so not sexy,” you whine childishly, trying to roll your hips over him again. Sunghoon laughs, all low and sweet as he sits back up again.

——

You rarely use the key Sunghoon gifted you a few months back. The majority of your visits to Sunghoon’s house were either the result of Sunghoon picking you up from somewhere and bringing you back, or Sunghoon inviting you over after dinner. In short, he was always with you when you arrived at his stoop.

His mom was going to kill him.

“ Sunghoon?” you call out slowly, inching back out into the hall with your gaze glued to the screen. Like maybe you’ve imagined this all and that isn’t the stupidly gigantic television screen Sunghoon had gawked at just a few weeks ago.

“You’re baby,” he tries to fight, but his limbs are so pliant under your touch that it practically means nothing. “I’m the head honcho around here.”

“Uh huh,” you appease him, finally managing to tug all that muscled body out of his seat. “And apparently that means making dumb purchases.”

“What dumb purchases? Are you talking about the cactus again?” he asks, letting you guide him back down the hall.

“Yes, hoon, the cactus you haven’t watered in three months,” you drawl sarcastically, the sad plant sitting in the kitchen a reminder of both your incompetence. “Heeseung would hate you for that.”

Not amused by the insinuation of his favorite senpai being disappointed in him, Sunghoon goes to fight you on that. By then you’ve stopped at the entrance of the living room, glaring at the straight up theater screen that sits on the wall. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh,” you mimic, flopping down on the ground beside the coffee table. Sunghoon doesn’t follow, choosing to sprawl himself over the couch instead. “What’s with the Jumbotron?”

You snort. “The experience— Oh, I’m sorry. Didn’t know I was speaking to Mr. IMAX here.”

His cheeks flush a soft pink at your jab. “Don’t be mean,” he mumbles, tugging on your arm as he sits back up. You find your way onto his lap, neatly seated over one thigh like he’s the Santa Claus at the mall; not a single gray hair in sight but you’d still let him call you his hoe, hoe, hoe. Realizing there’s more important matters to attend to than Sunghoon’s Christmas ham, you shake those images away.

“Good thing I brought a movie,” you beam, gesturing to the pretty pink case resting over top the takeout bag.

Sunghoon doesn’t even spare it a single glance as he burrows into your neck. “What? No, we’re finishing the docuseries on—“

You groan loudly to muffle the rest of his sentence. “hoon, I don’t wanna watch another episode on Stonehenge being done by aliens,” you whine, picking up the movie case to brandish in his face.

It’s admittedly the wrong move when Sunghoon’s eyes roll themselves into another dimension. “Absolutely not,” he says. The case is quickly discarded off to the side as he attempts to distract you with a kiss against your cheek.

Sunghoon sighs, dropping his head down against your shoulder. He smells good and feels even better over you, but you’re not going to stop until the Princess and the Pauper is breaking in the new Jumbotron. “It’s weird,” he huffs, voice muffled against the fabric of your shirt. “Especially when we start getting… experimental, and I have to listen to Barbie sing in the background.”

Sunghoon scoffs, finally letting himself snuggle completely into you. “You don’t even realize it because you’re screaming the whole way through.” That earns him a sharp tug at his ear that has him sputtering apology after apology.

“It’s boring!” you feel the need to emphasize.

Sunghoon sits up with an uppity look on his face. “It’s not my fault you don’t appreciate the cinematography that comes from educational pieces,” he points out, rather presumptuously.

You shove him off of you. “I don’t care about cinnamon topography, just play the damn Barbie movie,” you hiss, swiping the movie case from the other end of the couch and pressing it to his chest. If words could hurt, yours definitely do. Sunghoon crumbles against the couch, childishly stomping one sock-clad foot against the ground as you gesture toward the movie player.

The TV turns on to some minimalistic home page, tiny widgets showing every app it has; the bottom row is dedicated almost entirely to Sunghoon’s massive streaming service provider collection. After a moment of brewing in his feels, Sunghoon quietly announces, “it’s on Amazon Prime.” This is news to you, being able to watch a Barbie film on a streaming service and not the old disk you scratched when you were ten. Something distinctly carnal flashes in your chest when Sunghoon clicks through all the payment options without a care in the world. Oh, that was definitely going into your horny 3 am dreams.

Despite his earlier protests, you know Sunghoon will soon fall into his usual movie watching habits. He settles into the couch beside you. You cuddle up next to him, enveloping him with the grip of a killer octopus choking out its prey, except Sunghoon is usually the one doing the choking in this relationship. Still, it’s not close enough, and you throw your legs over his thigh. You’re practically sitting on him at this point.

You have no doubt the speakers on this thing are average; it was too thin to really pack any punch. However, that was the TV sans the Bluetooth speakers Sunghoon has installed all around his house.

(You swear when the android uprising finally begins, your boyfriend will be the first one out.)

The speakers really amplify the sound. The opening sequence has your bones rattling inside your body, the loud music of the selection screen reverberating through the entire living room. It reminds you of that pounding COMING SOON clip that used to play at the beginning of DVD’s back in the day. Sunghoon scrambles to lower the volume. “Sweetheart, you’re cutting off my circulation,” he wheezes afterwards.

“What? This is how we always watch movies,” you say with a frown.

“Yes, and I always end up with less oxygen than before.”

“Shut up,” he says, settling in behind you. “Movie’s starting.”

Most Barbie movies you watch end up in one of two ways: either Sunghoon falls asleep twenty minutes in or he stays up until the end to critique every aspect of it. With the way he’d gone soft from your early battle, you’re guessing he was going to knock out before the Princess can even meet the Pauper.

Sunghoon says nothing, and you’re half convinced he’s taken his first preferred route and snoozed off, when his fingers twitch around your waist.

There it was.

The occasional dark horse candidate among Barbie movie binges— Sunghoon gets weirdly horny and fucks you to the tune of a classic Barbie movie soundtrack.

“Absolutely not,” you say, slapping a hand down over his before he can slip beneath the fabric of your shorts.

He complains quietly, but he settles.

For all of twenty seconds.

“Oh my god,” you sigh, trying to act like the subtle rutting of his cock on your behind was a nuisance and not the luxury it is. “Babe, the jumbo screen… look at it.”

“Not even jumbo,” he murmurs against your ear, hot breath sending a shiver down your spine that has your toes curling. You fight to keep his hands still, but the muscles in his forearm tense, inked skin contracting as he slips them between your thighs. You suck in a sharp inhale, trying to maintain your immovable front. Sunghoon sees the fortress you’ve built around yourself in the name of watching The Princess and the Pauper, and spares you no mercy with his attack. His hands massage the skin of your thighs, tiny shorts doing absolutely nothing to save you from him. “Jumbo didn’t fit.”

Belatedly, your stupid tongue remembers to move. “I know something jumbo that fits,” you babble, rolling your head back against his shoulder. Sunghoon laughs at the utter stupidity of your sentence, and the aforementioned jumbo thing fattens against your ass, before brushing his lips against yours. The airy laughter, one of your favorite sounds in the world, is swallowed up by your greedy mouth. “Can fit in two places, actually,” you murmur when he pulls away. His fingers massage the doughy skin of your boobs causing your back to arch slightly. “Wherever he wants it to.”

“Really,” Sunghoon teases, obviously entertained by your silly dirty talk. He’s grown used to your outlandish remarks in the past few months of your relationship.

You like to believe Sunghoon has fully accepted your occasional bouts of weirdness. He’s had the last few months to grow familiar with the inner workings of your mind, and even absorbed some of it into his own personality. Which is why he doesn’t seem the least bit bothered by you referring to his cock as jumbo, when there were admittedly more fitting words to describe it as.

(Thick, juicy, angry, demon cock, if he really wanted to know.)

Sunghoon groans, resting his forehead against your shoulder. “Don’t,” he sighs, hands faltering over your breasts. Eventually they drift away, settling around your waist as you slip your fingers under the front of your bottoms.

“Why?” you laugh, pointer finger brushing along your clit. “Don’t like it when I call you that, Daddy?”

You know he loves it, but it never hurts to ask.

Between the two of you, you each had your own share of distinctive interests when it came to sex. Kinks, if you will. You adored the softer, vanilla aspects of sex— the languid makeouts, the slow rutting against his thigh, the whispered praise, the cute pet names. Meanwhile, despite his initially reserved exterior, Sunghoon preferred the other end of the spectrum. (You should’ve known from the get go!) He loved it fast and hard, so hard it would make you cry. He liked watching you squirm and beg for his cock while he pushed you to new heights. He liked the sticky, sweaty sex that left you feeling like a used rag beneath him, something you would have never expected given his neat and kind nature.

However, as with all things Sunghoon, you always came first. Sunghoon’s dream sex style was often pushed to the side in favor of pleasuring you. So quick and rough sex was more of a rare, once in a blue moon, type of luxury. Up until recently, sex had been mostly what you wanted. Either way you did things, Sunghoon was fine as long as he got to hold you close.

You pull your fingers from his mouth, the sleek drip of your arousal replaced with his saliva. Sunghoon grunts as he hauls you further onto his lap, swollen cock nudging itself between your cheeks. “You know I love it, baby,” he growls against your ear. His hot breath fans over your skin, sending shivers down your spine. “Have you had your fun now?” he asks, tracing the pads of his fingers around your nipple teasingly.

“Mhm,” you moan. Sunghoon’s hands decide they’re done toying with your tits, drifting back down to their original target between your shorts. “Want Daddy to fuck me now.”

He places a kiss against the side of your neck, right over the vein that runs beneath the skin. Sunghoon kisses and nips down your skin, until his hair is tickling your collarbones as he sucks a hickey against the juncture between your neck and shoulder. “Is that the right way to ask for something?” he purrs, rubbing your cunt over your shorts.

It’s nowhere near as fulfilling as it would be without the garments. Nonetheless, it makes you ache for him, thighs quivering at the simple touch like you’re a bumbling virgin being touched for the first time. You’re nowhere near that, but every time with Sunghoon was exhilarating enough to the point it felt like it was.

“Pretty please,” you pant, covering his hand with yours.

Sunghoon rewards you with a fluttery kiss against your shoulder. “Good girl,” he hums. He finally gives you what you want, bypassing the fabric of your shorts and panties to dip his fingers between your folds. You gasp, hips jumping at the sudden brush of his hands along your quivering folds.

From your very first date you were enamored with him; the dip of his Cupid’s bow, so innocent and cute, embodied every single aspect of his personality. He was the sweetest, softest boy, one your brain could never conjure in a thousand years. Sunghoon’s level of care was hard to come by nowadays; he was a gentleman through and through.

Any other day Sunghoon would bask in the attention, let you bruise his skin up until he was violet from love.

Today… well.

You were playing a different game.

“No ‘please’?” he huffs, turning your head to meet his eyes.

The action makes Sunghoon scoff as he leans away from you. He leaves you on his lap alone, like a tiny island desperate to join the main land. You shuffle around in a hurry, looping your arms around his neck in a last ditch effort to calm him down. It does nothing for Sunghoon, who only prods his tongue along his cheek as he regards you with a calculating gaze.

After a moment, he finally says, “on your knees.”

Anywhere else you wouldn’t have minded. In fact, anywhere else you would’ve been on the floor before the sentence even left his mouth. You loved sucking his dick almost as much as he loved eating you out. However your knees were embarrassingly frail against hard flooring, which is why most blowjobs had been administered in the comfort of his bed or the couch. Sometimes on carpeted surfaces, but Sunghoon never pushed when he knew you would be aching the whole time.

Which is why his current demand has you standing stiff. “O-On the floor?” you murmur.

The stark truth was that Sunghoon had you terribly spoiled. His constant pampering had convinced you you were invincible. His love was practically handed to you on a silver plate, cloth napkin folded like a crane beside it. He had never made you do something you didn’t like, and he had never put you in an uncomfortable position, mentally or physically.

Until now.

Sunghoon gestures for the ground with a curt nod. “Is there a problem?” he inquires.

Sunghoon was so cool. He was so suave and composed. He was the opposite of you, which is why the two of you meshed so well together. You’ve thought about it about ten times tonight, but it was true. Despite all that, there were times his mature exterior made you feel small— small and silly. Like now, with him sitting against the sofa, dark eyes tracing up your legs in amusement.

You sink to the ground, very pointedly avoiding his gaze. The wooden slats are cold and hard beneath your knees, your kneecap immediately screaming in discomfort. Sunghoon leans forward with his elbows on his knees, messy curls covering half of his face. “You know,” he hums, reaching out to trail his knuckles across your cheekbone. “I kinda like having you like this,” he admits, “below me like the good little girl you are.”

Your breath stutters as it leaves your lungs, fidgeting hands tugging at the front hem of your shirt in a feeble attempt to cover yourself up. Sunghoon smirks at the movement, eventually retracting his hand to give you one, condescending pat on the head.

His sweatpants give away easily, elastic band snapping away from hips. You have to fight that and his boxers down, Sunghoon sitting like an immovable boulder in front of you. You barely manage to free his cock— the same jumbo cock you had referred to earlier —and it almost slaps you across the face from the force of its recoil. Your breath catches in your throat, a short-lived squeal as you flinch at the movement.

The sound causes him to look your way, over the bridge of his nose. “Do you mind?” he says scornfully. “I’m trying to watch a movie.”

“S-Sorry,” you stammer, quickly grasping his cock between your fist.

But apparently you’re doing everything wrong tonight. Sunghoon hisses. “Shit— would it kill you to lick it first? Like you’re trying to start a damn fire on my cock,” he mumbles, head lolling back to watch the screen again.

You move in slower this time, careful to lick your palm before trying to grab him. When you do, it’s even more delayed, fingers hesitantly tightening around his swollen member. You’re trying to gauge his reaction, worried eyes flickering up to him every few seconds. Sunghoon doesn’t object, craning his neck to the side to crack a joint there. With his clearance you carry on.

The strokes are slow at first, hand barely reaching over his tip like he likes. You’re weirdly anxious you’ll mess up for him, make him look at you with contempt. You suppose it’s because of the game you’re playing that you’re on edge. Usually, Sunghoon adheres to your rules, soft as they may be, and he never pushes where you don’t want. Tonight, it’s like you’re a show dog desperate to impress her owner. In short, you were his bitch.

You loved it.

As much as you wanted to be good for him, the mere thought of your normally sweet-hearted boyfriend glaring down at you does something to you, makes your pussy clench.

When his cock hits the back of your throat, you’re ten chapters deep into an erotic novel all about sucking Sunghoon‘s dick. If your eyes weren’t already shut you’re certain they’d be at the back of your head anyway. It twitches against your tongue, one thick bead of precum sliding down your throat.

It seems to be the final straw for Sunghoon, who clamps a hand down on the back of your head, forcefully pulling you away only to shove you down again. With his grip in your hair, he really goes to town. You whimper at his brutal movements, his cock nudging the back of your throat with every harsh tug of your hair. The slippery, wet glide of his cock against your mouth fills the room with a lewd squelching that drowns out the movie.

Your pussy quivers with each new intrusion, thighs pressing together as if that will quell the searing ache between them. It doesn’t, and when Sunghoon finally bursts in your mouth, creamy cum splattering against your tongue and lips, it only grows.

Sensing your uncertainty, Sunghoon tugs you onto his lap. He presses one soft kiss against your cheek, eyes momentarily losing their hard edge to assure you everything is fine. You give him a tiny nod, as if assuring him you’re okay. He presses his mouth to yours, plush lips soothing over your raw lips. It’s brief, the kiss; he guides you through it but switches back quickly. He pulls away and bites down harshly on the side of your neck. “So perfect for me, pretty girl,” he murmurs, soothing his bite over with a swipe of his tongue.

You dissolve into a mushy puddle on his lap, muscles growing weak from his touch. Sunghoon kisses down your neck, over your t-shirt clad chest, before he’s nudging you back down onto the cushions. With him looming over you, your body instinctively has you spreading your legs apart. His t-shirt comes up with one yank over his shoulders, sinewy muscles coming into view.

“Yum,” you whisper, hands reaching up to trail over his v-line. They’re quickly slapped away, a startled gasp pulled from your lips as Sunghoon takes your wrists in his hands.

Sunghoon mouths against your shoulder, lips tracing over the juncture where it meets your neck. “Hm,” he hums, taking a tiny sliver of skin between his teeth. “And if I said I wanted it hard?”

When the material is finally discarded off to the side, leaving you in that flimsy bra Sunghoon that snaps off, he strikes again. His tongue laps over your collarbone first, pouty lips ghosting over the skin as he makes his way to your breast. He takes one hardened peak into his mouth, drawing a shaky inhale from you. He rolls it between his teeth, tongue flicking the sensitive nub as you squirm beneath him.

Eventually he pulls away with a wet pop. Sunghoon smirks, a soft puff of air fanning over your newly bruised skin. “Aren’t you the prettiest little thing.” He pushes away from you with one strong arm, looking down at you with an unreadable expression on his face. “Watch the movie,” he says.

You blink. “Huh?”

Before you know it, he’s tugging you back up onto your feet. He pushes you around, nearly sends you toppling over the coffee table as he positions you to his liking. “hoon!” you exclaim, palms slapping down against the glass tabletop in an effort to catch yourself. Just barely, your reflection glares back up at you.

A tap against your pussy startles you from the sight. “Wha—“

It is in fact your favorite movie, the same one you had fought tooth and nail just moments prior to watch. On screen, the two damsels are exploring new things in their lives, just how you were experiencing Sunghoon’s true intensity for the first time. “It is,” you quietly confirm, back aching from the position.

Sunghoon either doesn’t care about your depleting strength or really trusts in you not to faceplant onto his glass coffee table, palms sliding down to the crease of your elbows to hold you. “Tell me what it’s about,” he says

Just as the words leave his mouth, something hard and wet prods against your folds. “Oh,” you cry, fists tightening into balls as the feeling overwhelms you. “ Sunghoon, please.”

One elbow is let go, and the abrupt release has you scrambling to catch yourself, your glass reflection coming a little too close. This becomes even more difficult when a hand suddenly strikes down hard against your ass, a startled yelp escaping you. Just as quickly as you were released, Sunghoon wastes no time snatching your back up, yanking you back until your cunt runs along his cock again.

“C’mon, pretty, thought you knew better,” he sighs playfully.

Sunghoon chuckles, and your heart backflips when he finally begins lining himself up. “It’s okay,” he assures you, in that same gentle tone he uses when you accidentally shove the wrong food down the sink disposal. “Baby’s still learning,” he says, pressing a chaste kiss against your shoulder as he begins pushing himself in. Just the head of his cock proves to be a struggle, swollen tip stretching your entrance wide. There’s an extra sting today from your half-hearted preparation, the both of you relying solely on your own arousal and excitement to let him in. It’s a nice kick.

A warning squeeze around your wrist. “Language,” Sunghoon reprimands, though his voice is strained and light.

You nod mindlessly, toes curling against the wooden floor. “It-It feels so good,” you whine. Your knees wobble dangerously beneath you, until you’re swaying just the slightest bit.

The praise has your stomach tightening, the pretty images flashing across the screen completely lost on you. You felt so full. The two of you rarely did it like this, without looking at each other straight on, but there was something about Sunghoon’s looming figure being distorted by your brain’s memory, his touches wild and unpredictable, that made something inside of you twitch.

Behind you Sunghoon tuts at your incompetence, thrusting forward with an intensity that would have sent you flying if not for the grip he has on you. “You don’t know?” he huffs, tugging your elbows back again as if to secure his grip on you.

You suppose he’d been too lenient on you up until now, and that final claim makes him snap. Sunghoon scoffs, ramming his dick inside of you. “You’re being fucking terrible right now, doll,” he admits, hammering into you like a crazed man. You sob, the coil in your belly tightening with every brutal shove of his cock. It’s something about the way his composure withers away, all sweetness melting off as he thrusts into your cunt. “I’ve asked you twice now what the damn movie was about, and you didn’t answer either time.”

“And?” Sunghoon asks as you trail off, his words followed by a particularly brutal surge of his hips. His cock glides against your walls easily despite the way you clench around him.

“A-And they have problems they wanna avoid,” you stammer, the plot slipping in and out of your mind with every roll of his cock into your core. “So-so they swap places.”

Behind you, Sunghoon snorts. “What a stupid fucking movie,” he says meanly, before he begins to piston his cock into you. You’re trembling by now, your orgasm looming over your head with each thrust.

Before you can warn him, the thin string holding you together snaps, the sudden flood of relief making your knees buck dangerously. Sunghoon barely has enough time to catch you around the waist, holding you against him as a litany of curses and his name come spewing out of your mouth. “No, no,” you wail, your entire body twitching as the orgasm rolls over you. “hoon— Sunghoon!”

“I’m sorry,” you whimper, faintly aware of the rock hard cock between your pulsing walls, probably drenched in your cum now. “I-I didn’t—“

He shushes you quickly, settling the two of you back onto the couch. Funnily enough, he doesn’t bother pulling you off of him, his dick snug inside your cunt as he seats you on his lap. “You’re alright, sweetheart,” he comforts, hands soothingly running up your sides. You want to protest, want to get back on your knees and give him another chance to cum all over your face, but Sunghoon nudges your chin with a knuckle. “Watch your movie,” he croons.

The Princess and the Pauper is literally the last thing on your mind right now; didn’t he realize how much you wanted to please him? Why was he choosing now to be so stubborn? Oh, that Park Sunghoon, maybe Isa was right to call him an airhead.

Your slander campaign against your boyfriend is cut short when a hand flutters over your mound, thumb idly tracing over your sensitive clit. Before you can turn and look at him, Sunghoon is rutting his hips against you slowly. “The screen, baby,” he says, and you want to argue that you can’t possibly enjoy a movie with him being so sneaky beneath you. The words get washed away when he presses down on your clit.

“Koo— Daddy,” you whine, lower lips still trembling from the orgasm you had two minutes ago. Sunghoon responds with a kiss against your shoulder, hands trailing around your waist.

“No more of that,” he mumbles as he begins bouncing you on his cock. You moan, every inhale cut short by the shallow thrusts of his cock into your delicate walls. “Just your hoon now.”

“My… hoon,” you pant dreamily. Your cum provides an even better lubricant than before, lewd squelches filling the area alongside your cries as Sunghoon chases both your second orgasms.

Something inside of you tightens painfully, and you’re not sure if it’s your heart or your pussy. You guess it’s both, as you stutter out, “y-your pretty girl?” Sunghoon hums in agreement, repeating your favorite nickname back to you. The rest of your words die out between the two of you, lost in the slow and soft movements that fill in. You want to tell him you love him, adore him like no other, but every breath of air is stolen away by him.

Eventually the two of your are cumming, your second orgasms much quieter and slower compared to your first. You still mewl, wither against him when you cream his cock, and Sunghoon catches you all the same. He guides you through the fog with kisses against your jaw, your dripping pussy helping him through his own.

“You’re gross,” he retorts softly, blinking in that slow, drawn out way he does when you know he’s sleepy. His t-shirt runs along your neck, collecting the sweat there.

Sunghoon laughs quietly, looking at you with an adoring expression on his face. He doesn’t even finish cleaning you off, tossing the soiled shirt somewhere off to the side in favor of cuddling into you. “Where? My Jumbotron?” he teases, raining down a parade of kisses against your face. “Don’t wanna,” he smiles, too soft and boyish for the words that leave his lips next. “Wanna lick your pretty pussy clean.”

“Park Sunghoon,” you scold, covering your face with your palms in embarrassment. “Look at your stupid IMAX screen and leave me alone.”

“Get off of me.”

——

Just as you predicted, Sunghoon’s mom gives him the scolding of a lifetime when she drops by the next weekend. The poor woman nearly faints at the theater screen on the wall, only to quickly regain herself. You giggle from your spot on the couch as she whacks his stupidly ripped bicep with the leek you’re supposed to chop up for dinner later.

3 notes · View notes

tangledstarlight · 4 years ago

Text

so um. didn’t do much at work today. wrote a thing. my entire thought process for this was ‘luke just. throws himself into any and every fight he sees that involves his friends huh?' and then i thought 'but what would happen if he couldn't fight for them??' and here we are.

it also stemmed from the fact that luke has big pre-serum steve rogers vibes?? if ya get me.

it’s a 5 +1 also. if that matters to anyone??

BUT ANYWAY!!!! this has a somewhat happy ending? if you squint? it was gonna be sadder, so idk. hmu if you want the sad ending i guess.

also on ao3

trigger warnings! blood mentions, implied/referenced child abuse, implied homophobia, character deaths (cos they’re yknow. ghosts)

one. Luke had spent so much of his time worrying about Reggie and Alex that he’d never stopped to consider the trouble that Bobby might get himself into.

And then he’s kneeling next to where Bobby is lying on the ground, his leg bent at an odd angle and there was a cut running down his cheek with blood dripping on tarmac. But he’s breathing. And that’s all Luke can find himself focusing on even as he hears the car that had hit him speeding away.

“Hey, hey Bobby. You’re okay man, you’re alright,” his voice is shaking but he doesn’t think Bobby notices, too busy trying realising the amount of pain he’s in. Luke can hear someone shouting behind them, thinks that someone called out about ringing 911, but he doesn’t take his attention away from his friend.

“My leg, Luke my– Fuck my leg hurts!” Bobby tries to sit up, his voice whining and letting out a his of pain as Luke gently keeps him lying in place. A vague memory from some long ago first aid class echoing in his mind about neck injuries and keeping the patient still.

“Yeah man, it’s uh,” his eyes dart down to Bobby’s leg, gulps and looks back up. He’s pretty sure his face must give him away. “It’s probably best you don’t look at it right now. Just, just look at me alright. Helps on the way.”

He can hear people talking around them, someone mentioning how far out the hospital is, another saying how disgusting it is for the driver to just run off without even stopping. Luke tries to tune them out. He can’t chase down a car, can’t find one driver in thousands and hurt them for hurting his friend. All he can do right now is try and distract Bobby from his broken leg and his pain.

“Don’t think I’ll be making it to rehearsals tonight.”

“Suppose we can let you off. This is a better excuse than Reggie’s one about the ducks that chased him,” Luke grins, he can hear sirens in the distance and lets out a shallow breath.

“My dad, I need to–” Bobby trails off and Luke isn’t sure if he’s lost in thought or just not sure what he needs to do. It’s not like either of them have been hit by a car before. They don’t know what they’re meant to do in a situation like this. Luke squeezes his hand, shrugs one of his shoulders.

“It’s alright. We’ll just take it one step at a time, don’t worry.”

There’s a beat of silence between them as they both seem to register what he said before Bobby is laughing and Luke is gaping in silent horror before feeling his own lips shaking with laughter too.

“Can’t believe you just made a comment about walking to a guy that’s just broken his leg. That’s low Patterson, even for you.”

two. Luke knew he had a reputation amongst his friends of being a little oblivious to certain things going on around him. He knew that he could sometimes get too caught up in his song writing, could miss obvious hints that people threw at him, could sometimes completely miss read a room. But he wasn’t stupid.

And he certainly wasn’t blind.

He had known Reggie since pre k. Had seen him at his best and his worst, had been there the day he showed up at school with the worlds worst hair cut, had helped him pick out his first bass from a cheap second hand music shop, had patted his back when Linsday Walters had dumped him during lunch when they were twelve.

Luke knew Reggie better then he knew just about anyone. So he knew when there was something wrong.

Not that it would have taken a genius to know there was something wrong when Luke was woken up at three am on a Thursday to someone knocking at his window. Reggie’s face peered in through the window, back lit by the streetlight across the road and making it incredibly evident that he had been crying, had Luke throwing his blankets off and out of bed quicker then he knew he could move. It took some awkward manoeuvring but eventually Reggie crawled in through the window and stood uncomfortably in the middle of Luke's room.

“Hey Reg…” Luke started, his eyes trailing up and down his friend quickly, trying to pinpoint what had brought him here so late. His eyes caught on the way the bassist held his left arm close to his chest, fingers shaking as he tried to ball his hand into a fist only to wince every time they moved. There were spots of blood on his shirt. Luke heard a roaring in his ears as he put together puzzle pieces of information he had always glanced over.

The Sullivan’s were well known in their friend group as the parents who fought the most. Reggie often made off hand comments and jokes about not getting much sleep, about stepping over broken glass, about falling down the stairs.

It had never once occurred to him that Reggie’s parents might ever hurt him.

“I– I didn’t know where else to go,” Reggie’s voice is quiet, small in a way Luke has never known him to be small. Reggie was always light and loud, the first to fill an awkward silence and to reach out in comfort. In all the years he has known the other boy, Luke doesn’t think he’s ever seen him so subdued.

“You know you can always come here man, windows always open.” It’s an attempt at a joke and all it gets is a half hearted tug of his lips. “Are you bleeding, Reg?” Luke hates having to ask it, hates having to broach a subject that he’s fairly confident Reggie doesn’t want broached, but he needs to know how hurt his friend is.

Reggie blinks down at his arm, still held close to his chest, as if he’d forgotten he was holding it there like that. That it was hurt at all. But now as he looks at his fingers twitching and fresh tears filling his eyes, Luke can see him, physically, mentally, spiritually, falling apart in front of his eyes.

“Woah, hey, hey, it’s okay man. Let’s, let's just get you out of your jacket, yeah? We can do this, one step at a time.”

Luke walks towards him slowly, worried that any sudden moves might set off some kind of flight or fight response in his best friend and the last thing he wants right now is to cause him more pain. Reggie watches him with watery eyes, dipping his head once when Luke reaches out to gently move his arm and slip the leather jacket off him.

There’s a red stained cloth wrapped around his forearm, another around his palm and it takes all Lukes resolve to stay exactly where he is and not jump out his window and run all the way to the Sullivans house and scream at them for being able to hurt someone they’re meant to love. It takes a few more minutes of careful moving and unwrapping, pausing every time Reggie so much as hissed in a breath, before the damage is laid bare for Luke to see.

“Can I ask what happened?” It's a quiet question, and if he doesn’t want to talk about it Luke will drop the subject, wait until he’s ready to talk. But the cuts don’t seem deep, don’t seem like they were purposefully inflicted in the way he had first worried.

“They were– they were shouting at each other. I,” Reggie pauses to breath in, breath out, shakes his head. “I tried to get them to stop. Dad he– he threw a glass at me, mom pushed him then they both pushed me on the ground when I tried to stop them. Guess I kind of deserved it, got in their way.” He says it without making eye contact and Luke can feel himself staring at him with his mouth partly open.

Because Reggie is one of the best people he knows. He’s kind and funny and talented and just has so much love to share with the world that it sometimes comes out too forcefully for people to understand. If Lukes ever had a bad day, he knows without a single doubt in his mind that Reggie will always find a way to cheer him up. He knows that if there’s anyone in the world who doesn’t deserve this, it’s Reggie.

“No, that’s...no. Just no. You don’t deserve any of this Reg,” Luke isn’t sure what to say, how to make him see that nothing about this is okay. Luke is good with words, he’s good at writing down his thoughts and feelings and putting them to a melody and a beat, it’s what he hopes will one day help him achieve his dreams. But right now, right now all he can see is his best friend from childhood crying on his bed and all his words have fled.

He doesn’t know how to fix this. It’s not a fight he can jump into, take a hit while the other runs to find help. Luke has spent half their friendship standing in front of bullies for Reggie but he feels helpless in front of this one. So he gives his friend a smile, squeezes his shoulder and stands up.

“I’m going to find the first aid kit, alright? And mom made some cookies yesterday, there should still be some left. I’ll be right back, okay?” He waits until Reggie gives him a nod, a small smile on his lips before he goes.

Luke can’t fight this fight for him, all he can do is find the first aid kit, clean his cuts, steal him some cookies, and let him know he’ll always be there no matter what.

three. Some fights Luke knew, had to be fought with words. Some couldn’t be won with a quick shove or a haphazard punch to the nose. Some fights, he knew, weren’t his to get involved in. No matter how much he might have wanted to punch Alex’s parents as he stood under the porch light at the front of their house, peering in through the side window at the fight raging inside.

When Alex had first asked him if he’d come with him tonight, if he’d wait outside ‘just in case it goes badly, or y’know even if it goes well’, Luke had said yes without even a hint of hesitation. There was nowhere else he’d be then right here, right now.

Alex coming out to his parents, it was a big deal. It was more than a big deal. It was a life changing moment, a life destroying moment, and Luke wished he could shield him from this hurt. But all he could do was stand outside and watch it all unfold. He’d promised not to get involved. To just be a silent bystander. He really wished he hadn’t made that promise.

The look of disgust and hatred on their faces is something he thinks he’ll remember forever. Even from this distance, a window and a room away, their faces are clear to see.

It’s the exact reaction he had feared would happen, what he knew Alex had always known deep down would happen despite a small part of him hoping for the complete opposite. Holding on to a fruitless hope that his parents would look past all their bigotry and still remember that they loved their son. That he was still the same person he had always been.

It's one the many things that make Alex so wonderful, Luke thinks, the way he holds onto even the smallest bit of light in the dark even when everything shows signs of a total black out approaching.

And his parents are snuffing that light out.

With each shouted word, each hurled insult and slur.

Luke can hear Alex crying, begging for them to listen to him through the ajar door. Can’t they hear his desperation? How can they stand there, hurting him more, while he’s crying right in front of them?

His hands curl into fists at his sides, this isn’t a fight he can take on for Alex, he knows this. But god, he wishes he could just push that door open, deck Mr Bennet in the face, take Alex out of the house and never look back. Luke stays where he’s stood. He’s here as support, as someone to pick up the pieces when they were done, not to start a fist fight. He’d promised.

“Get the hell out of my house! Get out! And don’t ever fucking come back here, you understand? Get out!”

There’s the sound of a scuffle, of Alex saying something that gets lost in the sounds of more insults and words that Luke wishes he didn’t know the meaning of. Then the door is being pushed open and Alex is standing in front of him, face red from crying and hands shaking as he struggles to breathe. Luke doesn’t even think Mrs Bennet notices him as she throws a coat and bag out the door before slamming it shut.

“They– I– oh god,” he can’t seem to get a sentence out, his breathing ragged and Luke knows the signs of an impending panic attack well enough now to know what’s happening. So he puts aside his own anger, pushes down his instincts to fight back, and puts his hands on Alex’s shoulders, bending his head to get the blonde to look at him.

“Hey, hey, look at me man. Just breath. In and out, in and out, like me.”

They stand like that for a few minutes, breathing in and out until Alex has some semblance of control over his own lungs again and gives Luke the smallest of nods of reassurance that he doesn’t believe for a second. But he lets go of his shoulders, bends down to pick up the coat and bag, slinging a strap over his shoulder and offering the coat out to Alex. It’s still early spring and it’s bound to get cold.

“They–,” Alex has to take another moment, eyes darting between the closed door and the items in Luke's hands, “Th– they kicked me out.” His voice breaks on the word.

“I know.” Because there’s nothing else he can offer Alex right now other than his understanding.

He can’t take on this fight for him, can’t absorb the blows or the hurtful words, can’t go inside the house and force his parents to take back all the hurt they have caused in such a short amount of time. All Luke can do is reach out to take Alex’s hand and gently pull him down the road, away from the only place he had ever called home and give him somewhere to feel safe. Somewhere he can fall apart and put himself back together again.

“Come on, let's go back to mine,” he gives Alex’s hand a gentle squeeze and walks at the pace he’s set. It’s slow, hesitante, almost like he’s walking in a daze and is just letting himself be pulled along, muttered things under his breath.

“What am I going to do? God they’re right.”

Luke tilts his head to look into the drummer's face, frowns at the distant look he finds in the other boy's eyes even as his lips move, words he probably doesn’t even realise he’s saying out loud spilling from his lips. So he pulls them to a stop and stands in front of the blonde, grabbing hold of his other hand until he’s gripping them both.

“Hey Alex, Alex look at me man. Look at him,” Luke waits until he’s got Alex’s eyes on him, until he can see the drying tear tracks on his cheeks and can watch as he tries to keep a fresh wave from falling. “We take this one step at a time, okay? We get through tonight, and then we take on tomorrow.”

Something in his words seems to catch his attention and Alex takes in a ragged breath, eyebrows furrowing.

“We?”

“Yeah man. You’re stuck with me forever. You, me and Reggie did that whole blood oath with tomato juice thing like five years ago, remember? I’m not ever going anywhere,” Luke frees one of his hands and pushes Alex’s shoulder, grateful when he gets a huffed laugh and roll of his eyes in return.

They walk the rest of the way back to his house in silence, but Alex seems just a little more settled in himself then he had half an hour before and Luke takes that for a win.

four. Whenever Luke had thought about dying – and he hadn’t really given it much thought, he was seventeen, he was supposed to have more time – he’d always assumed it would be when he was old and in his bed.

Or maybe in some tragic accident like other rock stars before him.

He had never stopped to consider it would be a fucking hotdog.

The pain had started suddenly and forcefully, making sure it was the only thing he could think about. Like it had wanted to be the star of the show and would do so in any way possible. Luke can’t remember what it felt like to not be in pain.

Alex lets out a guttural moan of pain next to him that draws Lukes attention, stretching out his arm until his hand brushes the fabric of Alex’s pink hoodie, twisting his fingers into it so he knows that he’s there. That he’s not alone.

Reggie is quieter, even as he vomits – and Luke is trying to ignore the blood he can see, trying to not think about what that means – his chest heaving even as a paramedic rushes towards them. Luke catches Reggie’s eyes, tries to make his mouth move, to form words, to let him know something, anything.

But Luke doesn’t know what he would say even if he could. He doesn’t know how to save them from this. Doesn’t know if he can.

Luke had never thought about what happens after you die, but ending up in a dark room with Alex crying and Reggie sitting scarily still, it wouldn’t have been high on his list of possibilities. As he walked around the room, left hand on the wall so he could follow it around and around, Luke wondered if he could have fought harder to live. And then he sees Alex’s eyes going dim, sees Reggie’s chest stop moving, and remembers feeling his heart break. He doesn’t think this is a fight he ever had a chance at winning.

Whenever he’d thought about life and death and what came next, he always put it off. He just always figured he’d get the time, later in life, to think about it all. He’d been trying to take his life one step at a time and he’d accidentally leapt to the end goal by mistake without getting any of the fun in between.

They were seventeen and death wasn’t supposed to be something they gave much thought too and now they had all eternity to think about it. At least they’d have each other he guesses.

five. Twenty six years after dying Luke finds himself once again thinking about it.

Death.

Dying.

He doesn’t really think it’s something you can fight, if the Grim Reaper comes calling he’s going to leave with a soul. But Luke would personally fight the Death themselves if it meant he’d never have to see Julie cry the way she is right now. Soft and heartbroken and never ending.

But he can’t fight death. All he can do is sit next to her on the couch in the garage, one arm wrapped around her shoulders and the other holding her hand – because they’re tangible more and more often now, and on any other day he would be smiling like an idiot at getting to hold her like this. But it’s not any other day. It’s today and he’s just grateful he can touch here at all. – as she cries silently on his shoulder.

Alex has settled himself on the other side of Julie, tucking her legs under his longer ones almost like a blanket to keep her safe. Reggie has pulled a bean bag over in front of the couch and has his head resting between Julie's knees and Lukes. Each a solid presence around her.

Some days he can almost forget that the reason they are here at all is because Julie lost one of the most important people in her life. And that it was in grief and avoidance of memories and the need for a fresh start that she put on a cd and they had poofed back into the world.

He finds himself wishing he knew more about her.

The woman who had kept their EP, their shirt that couldn’t hold up in water, who had remembered them even when the world had forgotten.

“Tell us about your mom, Jules,” Luke whispers, not wanting to disturb the quiet bubble they have created but being unable to stop himself either. Julie’s crying stilts, her breathing stuttering as if she’s trying to comprehend what he’s asked. She knows she can always say no, that she can just not respond if she doesn’t want to. But Luke knows that this is the sort of pain you can’t fight, but you can ease it. He’s pretty sure Julie knows that too.

After a few minutes when Julie doesn’t say anything Luke accepts that she’s maybe not ready to talk yet and that would be okay too, they can just sit in silence.

But then slowly, hesitantly, Julie starts talking.

Starts telling them about her mom who had taught her to play the piano by sitting her on her knee. Who had chased her around the beach and made her laugh until her side hurt when they’d buried ray in the sand while he napped. Who had stayed up all night sewing tassels and strands of fabric together because Carlos just had to be Cousin Itt for Halloween.

She tells them about the times they had curled up watching her favourite films, the way they had shouted the lyrics to their favourite songs loudly in the car, their disastrous first attempt at making a rainbow cake.

She’s still crying, still keeps her fingers linked between Lukes, still lets her other hand alternate between Reggie's hair and tapping on Alex’s knee. But there’s a light in her eyes that hadn’t been there that morning, she’s laughing through her tears a little bit more with each story.

“I miss her,” she says eventually, letting out a shaking breath.

“I know,” Luke says, because it’s not really the same but he knows what it’s like to miss someone.

“But it’ll hurt just a little bit less each day,” Reggie chimes in, because it’s not really the same but he knows what it’s like to miss someone even when it hurts to think of them.

“And y’know, she’s always with you because you’ve got all these stories to share,” Alex tilts his head at her with a smile, because it’s not really the same but he knows that holding on to the good memories is sometimes all you have.

“Thanks guys,” she gives them a watery smile. “I don’t know what I’d do with you all.”

Luke doesn’t like to dwell too long on that thought, on a world where they pass over and leave her alone. Because it’s an all too real possibility so he pushes the thought back and nudges her shoulder and smiles.

“Nah, you’d be fine. You’d just take it one step at a time, you don’t have to go fast, you just gotta get through it.”

He doesn’t think he’s said anything too weird but Julie is looking at him with wide eyes and a silent ‘o’ on her lips. Luke frowns at her wondering what he’s done wrong now.

“Don’t look at him like that, it’s his go to advice for any problem. Just take it one day at a time,” Reggie laughs, imitating Luke’s voice as he says it and nudging his leg as he wiggles his eyebrows which causes Alex to laugh and draws Julie in too.

And Luke doesn’t mind that they’re kind of laughing at him, he’s just glad Julie is smiling. He’s not sure he’d win a fight with Death, but he’d give it a go if she asked.

+one. When Caleb pops back into their lives it happens so suddenly that Luke doesn’t even have a chance to second guess what he’s doing. All he knows is that Caleb is threatening the people he cares most about in the world, that there’s one option in front of him which only gets him hurt and Luke really hates bullies.

He doesn’t think about the pain that the jolts cause or that there’s a very good chance he’ll never see his family again or that playing music without Alex and Reggie and Julie just isn’t worth it.

He doesn’t think about that.

He thinks being seven and meeting Reggie, about meeting Alex, about meeting Bobby.

He thinks about all the bullies he was never big enough to protect them from, quick enough to run away from.

He thinks about when they were fifteen and Bobby got his by a car, broke his leg and got a concussion and how Luke just wasn’t quick enough to push him out of the way.

He thinks about being sixteen and Reggie knocking on his window covered in cuts and bruises and how Luke wasn’t able to protect him from the people who were meant to protect him.

He thinks about being seventeen and calming Alex’s breathing as his parents' shouts still echo around their heads and how Luke couldn’t make it any better because he didn’t have the power to change minds.

He thinks about being seventeen and suggesting they get street dogs and dying, about not being able to save them.

He thinks about being seventeen and stuck in a dark room for twenty five years and how Alex cried and Reggie looked lost and how Julie had to lose her mom to find them.

He thinks about Julie, crying between them all as she misses her mom and how much it would hurt her to lose them all.

“Luke, please. Don’t.”

Julie holding his hand, trying to pull him away. He can feel Reggie gripping tight to his other hand, standing half behind him with Alex who’s twisted his fingers into the material of his shirt. Standing behind him, just where they had always joked they’d be in a fight.

But Luke was never joking about it. Taking the hits so they don’t have to? It’s the easiest choice he’s ever made. It’s the one he’ll always make.

“I don’t want any of you to get hurt.”

Luke doesn’t realise he’s crying until his vision starts to blur a little, the image of Caleb in front of them going fuzzy.

“We take it one step at a time, Luke,” Reggie squeezes his hand tighter, tugging him back half a step.

“And we do it together, remember? A blood oath with tomato juice, Luke. We’re stuck together,” the hand Alex had had gripping his shirt loosens just enough to to circle around his bicep and he manages to tug him back another step.

“We can’t get through this if we don’t have you Luke. You don’t need to make the sacrifice play. There’s always another way,” Julie’s crying too, he notices belatedly as her tears drip on to the hand she is holding, his knuckles pressing against her lips.

“Come on man. Let’s go home.”

Luke holds steady for a second longer, eyes focused on Caleb's face before he gives in, letting the three of them pull him back from a line he can’t uncross.

But he’d do it.

He’d do it in one of his non-existent heart beats if it meant they’d be safe. He’s always jumped into a fight without a second thought. And for Reggie and Alex and Julie? He’d do it in even less. If they’d let him.

#julie and the phantoms #julie molina #luke patterson #trevor wilson #jatp #should i tag this with something else??? idk man enjoy i guess #rosie vs writing #*#Alex Mercer #Reggie Peters #*fics

65 notes · View notes

surveys-at-your-service · 4 years ago

Text

Survey #389

“i’m well aware i’m a danger to myself / are you aware i’m a danger to others?”

How much do you weigh? Yeah, we're starting off on a bad foot. If you are outside, what are you most likely doing? Putting Roman's used litter in the trash. Do you think you can love someone without trusting them? Hm... I guess you could love them, but it'd be a complicated situation. What’s your opinion on people who go hunting for sport? If it's purely for sport, from the very bottom of my heart, fuck you. Do you have a fairly fast or slow internet connection? I'd say it's decently fast. Have you ever been someplace tropical? Yeah, Florida. My grandma lived there. Are you sensitive to caffeine? No. It does like... nothing to me. How do you usually get around? My mom's car. Have you ever been accused of being too clingy? No actually, but I know I kinda am. What do you think about Kim Kardashian? I don't have an opinion of her. Can you speak any French? No. Favorite yogurt flavor? The only yogurt I've been liking lately is cookies and cream to add a different texture, because otherwise, I don't like its natural texture very much??? Idk man, my taste buds are wild. How much money do you have in your wallet right now? Just like $5. What bottled water brand do you like? Essentia. Your favorite way to eat chocolate? As chocolate bars, probably. How often do you listen to country music? Like, never. Linkin Park or Avenged Sevenfold? Linkin Park. Last surgery you had? Pilonidal cyst removal. Have you ever played guitar? I briefly took classes for it in high school, yes. Best I got to was playing some of the intro to "Crazy Train." I enjoyed it, but not enough to be consistent and really learn. Is there someone in your life whose career/life choices you find immoral/unethical? Have you ever told that person your views? Do you find it difficult to support them (emotionally or otherwise) because of their choices? I don't think so? What trait do you feel you lack that you wish you possessed? Independence and confidence would be nice... Have you ever considered writing your memoirs? No. Do you find it difficult to stay invested in online relationships? God no. I love my online friends. Half of 'em more than "irl" ones. Are you the type of person who pays close attention to the release dates of movies, music, etc., and will, for example, go see a movie or buy an album on the date it is released? If so, when is the last time you did so? I have to be VERY invested in it to care THAT much. It happened most recently when Meerkat Manor: Rise of the Dynasty premiered. Do you have any stickers on your laptop? No. Would you rather have a job for which you had to go in early in the morning or one you had to stay late into the evening at? Early in the morning. I'm in a better mood in the morning. Do you use any apps to track your health or medications? I have a calorie-counting app, as well as one to track my period. Whose opinions/recommendations do you value most? My mom's, best friend's, and psychiatrist's. If you could’ve been at any historical event, which would you have liked to witness firsthand? I don't really know. Maybe the very first Pride event? Is there something that you really want to do but are afraid of doing? If so, why are you afraid of doing it? Ride a rollercoaster, for one. I know I never will, though. I'm too afraid of throwing up, but even more realistically, I fear passing out before of the twisting and turning and just standing up makes me very dizzy. My blood pressure is STUPID low. What is something society “expects” you to do that you don’t want to do and/or don’t plan on doing? Have kids. That's a big 'ole fat no from me. Have Jehovah's Witnesses ever come to your door? Twice at least. Are you well-known by people in your area? No. Have you ever experienced sleep paralysis? No, thank Christ. It sounds terrifying. What's your favourite type of bird? Barn owls. Melanistic ones, to be exact. Stunning. What tv show(s) have you been watching currently? I'm only keeping up with Meerkat Manor: Rise of the Dynasty. Have you ever dated a smoker? For less than a day. Do you share a middle name with any of your siblings? Yes. Have you ever been a member in a band? No. Besides the school band. Can you cry on command? If so, have you ever used it to your advantage? No. Do you have separate emails for personal and business? No. Have you ever missed a flight? Yes. Have you ever seen a lunar eclipse? Multiple times. Have you ever taken a ride in a convertible? I think once with my brother. Why did you last need to use a band-aid? I'unno. What fruit do you eat most often? Apples. Who was the last person you visited in the hospital? My ma. Has someone ever tried to start an argument with you over Facebook? What happened? A few times. I don't feel like thinking over this. Have you ever had an unusual type of milk (eg. oat, rice, almond)? I've tried almond milk, and I hated it. If you could experience life as a Disney princess for a week, which princess would you pick and why? uhhhhhh idk When you’re at home, do you spend most of your time in your room? I'm essentially always in my room. If you like to sleep in late, have your parents ever told you off for doing so? No. Do you find piercings attractive? Yep. Do you like potato chips? Loooove 'em. What’s the most stalker-like/creepy thing you’ve ever done? If you don’t think you’ve done anything like that, what’s the most stalker-like thing someone’s done to you? Nothing beyond checking Jason's Facebook sometimes after the breakup, I think. Even that though I wouldn't recommend doing. You're just going to get yourself hurt. Stay away from exes' profiles. Do you think it’s a double standard that a woman can hit a man and expect to get away with it, but if a man hits a woman it’s assault? Yep. I don't give a fuck what's in your pants, you don't hit anybody unless you're fighting to defend yourself. What’s your favorite old Disney movie and favorite new Disney movie? I mean... define "old." I'll go with The Lion King for old, and for new, uh... Finding Dory, probs. Name something “trendy” or popular that you dislike. I don't really know what IS trendy right now... Is Snapchat still "in?" Because I've never gotten that. “Dirty talk” in the bedroom…love it, like it, don’t care, dislike it, or hate it? I think I'm kinda neutral about it? Like I mean it also depends on exactly what is said. I prefer more loving talk, though. What is/are your favorite type(s) of ethnic food, and what’s your favorite food within that type? I'm a basic fatass that likes American cuisine most, aha... Like give me a cheeseburger and I'm happy lmao. How would you describe your relationship with your hair over the years? I love it more now at a short length than I ever did long. When it was long and I was in my deepest depression, I was awful about brushing it. It would get so knotted. Like looking back, it nearly makes me shiver. I HIGHLY recommend cutting your hair for anyone who struggles with selfcare. How do you feel about your SO daily/regularly checking up on a couple of his exes on social media? I'm single, but hypothetically, if you're checking an ex's page nearly every day, I would not be okay with that. I'm totally fine with exes remaining friends and just cordially talking now and again, but that's it. It's a respect thing. Do you prefer your guy to wear cologne or not? I personally like cologne if it's not overwhelming. I really don't care if you wear it or not, though. Ladies, how important is it to you that your SO wears/would wear a wedding ring? This survey is so heteronormative. But anyway, unless there was an issue like it not fitting, I'd want my spouse to wear their ring. What was the turning point that led you to decide for or against having children? There are a lot of reasons I don't want kids. I'm too selfish with my "me" time, I stress out too easily, I don't want to dedicate my life to keeping another person alive and fed and happy, I have bad genes... I could go on and on. I just wouldn't be a good, "present" enough mom. I am much more interested in ensuring *I* am okay. Is having your “dream” wedding really that important to have? Not at all. I mean I want a smooth and memorable wedding, but I'm not obsessed with it being perfect. Do you consider it cheating if your SO goes to a strip club and then doesn’t tell you? That's certainly not cheating, but I wouldn't like it. Being secretive about anything in a relationship is unhealthy, imo. I'd be hurt and also very insecure because I wouldn't feel like "enough." How old is too old for trick-or-treating? Honestly? I don't think you ever are. Like come on, does it REALLY matter? Let people have fun. I don't do it because of societal standards, but I would if I didn't care about being judged. Do you sleep with your arms over or under the covers? It depends on the temperature, but I normally wake up with them under. Do you own any t-shirts of your favorite band? I have an Ozzy one stored somewhere, but it doesn't fit me now. There was another I really liked too, but that one is WAY too small now. Fries or onion rings? Fries. I'm not a fan of onion rings. True/False: you’ve had an odd dream this week. Story of my life. I had one last night where I kept dying in different ways, and I actually felt the pain, like drowning in magma. Do you find tattoo sleeves attractive? YESSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS. Do you like carving pumpkins? Yeah. What’s an animal you want to have as a pet but can’t? My mom has absolutely forbidden me to get a tarantula (uh, many tarantulas in my case) until I move out, lol. That doesn't stop me from checking Craigslist like every day. ;_; Have your parents ever caught you drinking? "Caught," no. Any time I've drunk, I've had permission or was a legal adult by then. How would you react if your celebrity crush came to your door? First be humiliated at my appearance and then absolutely pass out lmao. Has your mom/dad ever walked in on you kissing or anything more with someone? No, thank fuck. The person you have a crush on is drunk and goes to kiss you, you know they don’t realize what they’re doing, but do you kiss anyways? If I know it's something they wouldn't do sober, absolutely not. What would you prefer to get from a guy/girl: flowers, a hand written poem, a picture he drew of you or a nice night out? Any would be lovely, but the poem would appeal most to me because of the amount of thought that goes into poetry. Do you any shirts with any kind of images of food on them? What? I don't think so, no. Which holiday is the most fun to decorate for? Halloween. What was the first website you had an email account on? Yahoo. Have you ever written a fanfic? No. Tattoos or piercings? Both are grand, but tats win. What’s the last gross movie/show/video you saw? I saw this picture of a snake split open that had eaten another snake. Would you rather live in a huuuge house or a little cozy one? Lil cozy one! I don't want more space than is needed for cleaning reasons, as well as price. Do you have a tutor for anything? No. Who’s the best kisser you know? Jason was. Has anyone ever threatened you with a knife? No. I'd like it to stay that way. (If you’re a girl) Has anyone ever called you "shortie" instead of girl? Ew, no. Do you have a deep voice? For a woman, yes. Do you play games with boys/girls, like 'hard to get’? Hi, I'm an adult. Is there a Sonic where you live? YES. It's my fave fast-food place. What do you like on your pizza? I have three go-tos depending on my mood: Pepperoni, jalapenos, or meat lovers.

#survey #surveys #questions #lyrics: ''leave a scar'' by marilyn manson

6 notes · View notes

purplesurveys · 4 years ago

Text

1193

Have you ever been cheated on? Nope.

Whose car were you last in? Other than my own? Hans’s, but that was over two months ago.

Have you ever thought about getting your nose pierced? How timely is this, Andi literally randomly asked me how I feel about septum piercings this afternoon haha. Anyway, I have no problem with it on other people but I personally wouldn’t pick my nose as a spot for piercings.

Have your parents ever smoked pot? I don’t know, they may have but there’s a big chance they haven’t. They don’t really share much about their youth so I would never know.

Do you tend to make relationships complicated? That’s definitely not me.

Are you good at giving directions? Not at all; if anyone asks me directly I usually immediately refer them to whoever I’m with at the time. Or I tell them to check Waze.

Would your mom care if she found condoms in your room? She would and she’d definitely be pissed about it. Not that I have to worry about this ever happening, though.

Did you speak to your father today? Yessssssss, I literally just caught a glimpse of him like two minutes ago.

Did you kiss someone before you were sixteen? No, I was 16 turning 17 when I had my first.

Could you go a day without eating? Yeah, but I wouldn’t feel well by the end of it. I’ve formed a habit of skipping breakfast and lunch on weekdays now, and I always feel like complete shit once I clock out. Considering I only eat dinner these days, I guess I can say I do regularly go entire days without eating.

Are your nails always painted? I never paint them/have them painted.

Have you ever met any bands/band members before? Just local ones.

What color is your hair? Black.

Your best friend needed somewhere to stay, could they live with you? Yes.

Have you danced in the rain? Maybe? I don’t know. Doesn’t sound like something I would do, though.

When you said something naughty when you were little, did your parents wash out your tongue with soap? Nope. I never liked getting in trouble, even as a kid, so I stayed out of it.

What do you think of spanking little children when they do something wrong? Okay or not? That’s a common practice where I live, at least it was during my time. My mom didn’t believe in spanking her kids, which I’ll always be thankful for; but the cousins I lived with didn’t have the same fate so I regularly had to watch them get spanked - with sticks, slippers, belts, etc basically anything that was within reach. I think today’s generation of parents are different; I hope they are.

Who was the last male you hung out with? Gab, Kyelle, Al, and Hans.

Who is your favorite person to text? I don’t text anymore, but I do chat with Angela on Messenger everyday.

Who did you last take a picture with? Does an online photo count? We had an event held through Zoom last Wednesday and we had a photo op by the end of it.

What’s your favorite brand of jeans? I don’t have any. I just wear whichever pair I’d feel good and confident wearing.

Which show is better: Spongebob or The Fairly Odd Parents? Nooooooooo you’re making me pick between my two absolute favorites. I might have to go with Spongebob, but it barely barely barely won. Fairly OddParents is great too, at least until they added the baby fairy.

Has anyone ever told you that you looked like someone else? Many times. Idk if I’m happy about it because something tells me it just means I have quite the common face. Idk. I don’t think too much about it and as long as I’m compared to someone I personally find pretty, it’s fine lol.

Do you enjoy the sound of crickets at night and birds in the morning? Not so much. I find them too loud, especially the crickets.

Who is the most overrated singer? Taylor Swift.

What is your favourite planet? I don’t have one, but let’s go with Saturn.

Do you have any pets that you had since you were born? Wow no. 23 years is a very long time.

Do you own anything that you had when you were a baby? Yep, my mom kept all our umbilical cord stumps. It’s in our baby albums.

Do you enjoy Mario games? Very much so. It’s the only franchise I can play HAHAHA

What’s your favorite online game? I don’t play online games.

Have you ever been hit with a ball in gym class? I probably have been.

Do you ever turn your cell phone off? I used to sometimes shut it off whenever I’d fight with my ex and I didn’t want to deal with the world for a while. Now with the toxicity out of my life I never turn it off lol.

Who was last to cook for you? My mom made pasta for dinner tonight. Then after that I asked her to make me coffee mixed with Milo.

Do you check your texts right away when you receive them? Depends on who texts. I get anxious when it’s media texting, so I tend to ignore those for a few hours unless they ask something urgent. If it’s someone from my inner circle, like a friend or one of my parents, I would check and reply immediately, or at least as soon as I see the text.

Who is your most trusted person? Mmm, probably Angela. I literally reached out last night to ask her to log on to my Facebook so she can unfriend Gab and her family on my behalf. I don’t think I would’ve asked that from anyone else.

How late did you stay up last night? A little earlier than my usual, around midnight or so. I knew my load was going to be packed today since my manager had filed a leave which meant I had to cover for her tasks as well, so I wanted to get enough rest so that I didn’t wake up sleepy and cranky.

When/where are you most likely to sing? As long as I’m alone, I’ll sing. I like to do it, just not in front of other people.

Would you ever wish to explore a cave? That would be soooooooo nice. It’s been a while since I’ve been in a cave. :(

You see the person you fell hardest for. What do you do? I imagine giving her an awkward smile and probably being the first to approach. Then I would ask how she’s been. I’m in a place in my life where I’m sure I’ll be able to do that.

Have you been/are you depressed? I’ve been there many times.

Are your pop-ups blocked on your computer? Yes.

Have you ever ridden in a car with someone who was high? No. I would hate to be in that situation.

Who is the best hugger you know? Laurice.

Have you ever had to be put to sleep for an operation? Nopes.

Does anybody have any proof of stupid things you have done? I know Angela has a few. Gabie took a few as well; whether she still has them or not I’m not updated on anymore, nor do I care.

Why did you text the last person in your inbox? I was just reminding Angela there was a BTS video coming out tonight.

Have you ever been able to do a split? No but I’ve attemped to do it many times.

Did you ever date the last person you kissed? Yes.

Are you intimidated by the last person you know talked badly about you? I never keep track of things like that. I know it would bring nothing but unnecessary stress, so I never snoop or ask around to check if anyone’s been talking not-so-nicely about me behind my back.

Have you ever cried in school? Maybe only about once or twice in the 18 years I was in school. I absolutely hate crying in front of people, and I mainly do it when I’m alone. I don’t think I’ve even ever cried in front of Angela; that’s how much I hate it.

Last person of the opposite sex you screamed at? I don’t remember ever screaming at a guy.

Do you have any weird sleep habits? I...wouldn’t know, since I’m asleep when I do them. I always sleep alone too, so no one would be able to tell me how I sleep. All I know is I’m not much of a mover and I usually wake up in the same position (or almost the same position) I fell asleep in.

Do you consider yourself an emotional person? Yes, I’m sensitive in every sense of the word.

When was the last time you had a headache? Last Wednesday when not eating for the entire day finally hit me like a truck by the end of my shift. :/

When was the last time you encountered a puppy? Cooper circa September.

Is there anything that happened a long time ago that you still laugh about? Yes, many instances.

Do you ever try to interpret your dreams? No, I don’t think anything of them beyond “just weird scenarios of people I know doing weird things.”

What was the last thing you bought impulsively? Three orders of sushi, 24 pieces in total.

How do you feel about singing songs out loud in front of other people? No amount of money would make me do it.

When was the last time you were feeling really, really nervous? This afternoon when a supplier we’re currently working with asked to call. Normally my manager would be the one mainly in touch with people like them, but since she was out today I was next in line.

If you’re no longer in school, what is something you miss about it? If you’re still in school, what’s something you think you’re going to miss about it? I miss seeing my friends everyday and being able to hang out after our classes, even if it just means sitting at a table doing nothing together.

Do you use your turn signals when you’re driving? Excessively. I use it even in the subdivision lmao, or on one-way roads.

How exactly are you feeling right now? Content. It’s a little hot and mosquitoes keep flying around me, but I’m not letting these affect my mood. Just focusing on the fact that it’s a Friday night and I can let go of work for a couple of days.

Have you ever had to board up your windows because of a hurricane? Never happened before. I just close up my windows completely so that they don’t slam if ever the wind gets too strong.

Do you tell anyone to chew with their mouths closed? I don’t recall ever feeling the need to do this. The sound doesn’t bother me much anyway; definitely not as much as it annoys most people.

Have you ever ordered pizza and sent it to someone else’s house? Yup I did that for Angela and Kata recently, for my birthday, along with truffle mac and cheese. Basically my favorite orders from Mama Lou’s, haha.

What was the first thing you drank when you woke up this morning? I believe it was water.

Do you think stretch marks from having a baby are ugly or badges of honor? Ugh this question is so outdated I don’t even want to take the time to answer it.

Ever done a keg stand? No.

Who is the last person you lent money to? I don’t lend my money.

Do you share clothing with anyone? Mmm, sometimes. It’s usually me borrowing clothes from my sister, though.

Have you ever visited anyone in a rehab? Nope.

Was the last thing you drank a Coke or Pepsi product? No, it was just water. I’d never be caught craving for soda.

Honestly, do you think that you’re going to be an overprotective parent? No. I experienced having strict parents, so I know it’s not something I would want to pass on to my kids. I want my kids to be able to go out with friends and attend parties and get tattoos (when they’re older) and express their identity without being scared of me.

What was the last kind of chips you ate? Piattos cheddar chips.

What is one thing that you really wish you could understand, but don’t? Investing and stocks.

What is the last thing you charged? My laptop.

Have you ever held a snake? Yes. I’m always the only one in the family willing to do things like this when we go on vacations haha.

#survey #surveys

2 notes · View notes

joisbishmyoga · 5 years ago

Text

idk how many of you are into dcmk, or up to date on it enough to have read (or attempted to read, or just heard of) the 1000 chapter special. Let me just preface this now with the fact that I did TRY to read it, but the entire premise was just so stupid I could not do it. I think I managed to get about three pages in before noping out.

ANYWAY. Spoilers and fix-it under the cut.

The 1000 chapter special has Conan successfully convince Ai to give him enough temporary cure that he can go on his school’s Kyoto field trip with Ran. Because, uh, hiding for your life to the point where you haven’t found any way you can risk telling her that you’re hiding for your life (and hers, and her parents’, and her friends’, and the entirety of Beika Elementary and probably every single cop in Division One...) is completely compatible with just showing up undisguised as yourself on your class field trip to a bunch of major tourist destinations in Kyoto.

Which is. Uh. Exactly what he does.

If I’d had a physical manga to throw across the room I might well have done that.

So, since as I understand it this was played entirely straight with no shenanigans, not even a pair of glasses to Clark Kent it up... FIX IT.

In my happy little world where Gosho does not try to shove in romance and hasn’t been dicking around with “who is Rum” for the past four years and remembers that Hakuba Saguru exists, Sera spotted Shin’ichi on approach and intercepted him.

Then she tore him a new one and made him call Heiji. Osaka happens to be only about half an hour from Kyoto by train, so Heiji and Kazuha show up fairly quickly with supplies.

Kazuha’s spare uniform fits, barely, by dint of safety pins and the style being a looser cut than Teitan’s more modern blazers. Something that does not regrow with the temp cures: body hair, because otherwise Shin’ichi would always show up with a scraggly terrible beard. Heiji happened to pass a party supply store that hopped on the very recent rise in the popularity of Halloween, so there is a terrible cheap wig and they won’t have to use the uniform kerchief to make people think Shin’ichi is in chemo.

Ten minutes and a surprisingly good makeup job later, Heiji, Kazuha, and “our classmate, Shiko” crash Ran’s field trip, much to Ran’s shocked delight and Sonoko’s hilarity.

(When the inevitable case hits, “Shiko” realizes the golden opportunity here to mess with any patterns someone watching the Mouris might have noticed, and promptly performs the role of Sleeping Kogoro with exactly zero Conans in proximity.)

Heiji spends the entire time trying not to suffocate himself holding in laughter, and it becomes a Noodle Incident Conan will never let him mention again. Ever.

Conan also realizes that Sera’s reaction was pretty damn odd for someone who’s not supposed to know a damn thing about apotoxin or the existence of Org.

18 notes · View notes

chvrrybaby · 6 years ago

Text

*itzy vc* hey hey hey ! ( i see that i’m icy ) what’s up, i’m diana, i’m nineteen, and i’m ur resident girl group stan. i reside in the est timezone & go by the pronouns she/her. now, finally introducing ... loona !! jk, her name is blair & u can learn abt her under the cut ! my discord is lana del rey is coming <3#5522 ( stream her new album august 30th ), so feel free to message me there or through tumblr im’s if u prefer that ! otherwise, i’ll come to u <3

— kim doyeon. she/her. cis female. | was that blair ryu i just saw in the hideaway lobby ? i hear the nineteen year old spends most of their time working as a sugar baby/studying classic literature and women’s studies, but i’ve always just seen them writing in her dream journal. they live in 5A and i often see them in the halls. they always give me a vibe of loosely curled hair, cherry lip gloss, the lingering scent of vanilla in the air.

( 𝑩𝑨𝑪𝑲𝑮𝑹𝑶𝑼𝑵𝑫. )

born on october 5th, 1999 ( this is literally a day before my bday ooc but anyway ajkdhsjdh ) in rochester, new york, blair’s first impression of the world was a crisp autumn day

she was her parents first and only child. her mother was an elementary school teacher, while her father worked at a nearby power plant in ontario

the family never made too much money, but they were able to get by, at least at first

she had a fairly happy childhood, though it was a lonely one. her father was always working odd hours, and with her mother gone during the day, she spent most of her time with a babysitter and the family golden retriever

eventually, she herself started going to school. she immediately excelled in the english department and fell in love with reading. blair realized early on how much she enjoyed escaping reality with a novel, immersing herself in a story so exciting compared to her dull life

almost everything was fine until her high school years. aside from the fact that she never had a present father figure, she was closer to her mom and still loved by both of her parents. however, when her high school years came around, her father lost his job

her father was the families main provider, and her mothers salary alone would not be enough to take care of the entire family. while he searched for another job, they had to give away the family golden retriever to one of blair’s aunts because they couldn’t afford the extra cost :(

on top of losing her beloved pet, the loss of her father’s job prompting the family to pick up and move their entire life

already in the midst of high school, blair had to leave her life as she knew it behind. the family moved to statesboro, georgia, and her father found a job at the nearby power plant

the transition to life in georgia was not easy for blair. though she didn’t exactly have trouble making friends, she didn’t feel like she could truly connect with anyone

once again, blair turned to losing herself in a book to pass the time

shortly after the move to georgia, her parents experienced some difficulties within their marriage. they ended up separating, and blair spent the remainder of her high school years living with each of them for half of the time

she did not mind her parents separating, as she knew it was for the best. however, her father found a girlfriend fairly quickly, and blair would eventually find out her father had been having an affair

her father spent most of his free time with his new girlfriend and her family. blair was upset at how he prioritized his the new people in his life over her when he was barely ever around for her growing up

meanwhile, her mother was having trouble adjusting to being alone, so she moved back to new york to live with her sister

blair stayed behind in georgia to finish high school, but knew she wanted to go elsewhere for college. she wanted to get as far away from her father and his new life as possible

once blair turned eighteen, she began to sell pictures for money. she wanted to earn as much as possible so she could afford to go away for university. she created an alias and began to sell pictures and videos of her feet. eventually, she expanded her horizons once she realized how much money she could earn

she never went as far as sleeping with her clients, but she would go on dates with them and spend the days with them to earn more money ( kind of like ludovica/chiara in the italian show baby on netflix minus sleeping w them )

she dated a few people throughout her high school years, and began to more “seriously” date a guy during her senior year in high school, though she knew the relationship wouldn’t last. despite appearing as a more serious relationship, to her, it wasn’t really anything of the sort, and she mostly wanted a relationship for senior prom and other trivialities

after senior year ended and she had accepted admission into uni in seattle, she basically cut ties with everyone in georgia aksdjskdjh she said good bye forever ! rip poor unnamed boyfriend he didn’t see it coming ...

her father also did not see it coming because she didn’t even tell him where she applied. but at the same time, did he ask ? no :/

once she left for uni, her relationship with her father became very very estranged. she still speaks to her mom on a pretty regular basis, but even then, she has a whole secret life and doesn’t feel particular close to either of them sjkdfhskdjh

and that’s that for background !

( 𝑷𝑬𝑹𝑺𝑶𝑵𝑨𝑳𝑰𝑻𝒀. )

blair is a libra sun leo moon ( rising sign & other placements tbd )

she is definitely a friendly/sociable person. she can be pretty outgoing and loves to be around people. idk her mbti yet but she is def an extrovert ! ( she does tend to keep her feelings to herself tho )

despite her friendly demeanor, she does have a fiery spirit. if u wrong her she will hold a grudge against u until it gets settled/sorted. she can be more on the mean side when she’s upset, but even then she does not have a bad heart at all

when it comes to relationships, blair is all over the place. she can be very flirty/charismatic and is constantly hopping from one relationship to the next. she hasn’t quite been able to settle down, but it is possible. she kind of thinks being in a real relationship means losing her freedom, because that’s kind of what she saw happen with her parents, so she doesn’t really want to be tied down to someone in fear of losing herself in a way. does this make sense ? maybe ? ok !

blair has a fairly strong sense of self, but she’s still very young so she’s still growing and changing. she is the type of person to know what she wants and go after it ( yes, even with ppl ! ). she will stop at nothinggg to get what she wants ( oop ). u could say she loves the chase, but kind of gets bored afterwards unless u have more to offer !

omg she literally loves 2 be the center of attention. i mean, who doesn’t love attention ? but blair takes it 2 another level. she gets all :( if she’s being ignored or isn’t receiving enough attention

kind of bouncing off the whole attention thing, blair loves a good party ! she’s young and here for a good time. she def loves to drink at parties and stuff even tho she isn’t legal here in the us, why should that stop her am i right ? when it comes to drugs, she’s a veryyy casual user and doesn’t do anything crazy. a social weed smoker n will do pills here and there

being a libra sun with a leo moon, i think it’s safe to say she can be a bit dramatic at times ( i mean, as a libra sun with a leo venus i am not one 2 judge xx ). she reads 2 much and watches 2 many movies like ajkdhsjkhd life rly isn’t that serious but she can b a lil overdramatic sometimes whew ! we told u this was melodrama ... lorde stans make some noise !

blair’s fav books are anything by jane austen and les liaisons dangereuses by pierre choderlos de laclos, aka the book cruel intentions was based on ( which happens 2 be one of her fav movies )

shows she loves: gossip girl ( she shares a name w blair so she probably used 2 call herself queen b in high school or something ), desperate housewives ( no wonder this binch is so dramatic ), big little lies, pretty little liars ( the early seasons only ), the netflix show baby, and buffy the vampire slayer

movies she loves: clueless, almost famous, thoroughbreds, moulin rouge, palo alto, marie antoinette, coyote ugly, american beauty, cruel intentions, and valley of the dolls ( to name a few )

her fav colors are pink, red, and white !

u can find her pinterest board here.

she is bisexual babey !!

( 𝑾𝑨𝑵𝑻𝑬𝑫 𝑪𝑶𝑵𝑵𝑬𝑪𝑻𝑰𝑶𝑵𝑺. )

party buddies - this is pretty basic and self explanatory, but someone blair can go out and have fun with. their friendship might be more surface level, or started that way at least, but it’s possible they’re closer friends ( maybe she opened up under the influence and it brought them closer aksdhsdjh drunk blair def would )

ex-fling/gf/bf - blair relationship hops, so she could have quite a few of these. we can plot it however, there can b feelings there, they can hate each other, of they can be just friends now, u name it !

unrequited crush - ur character could have feelings for blair, but maybe she doesn’t feel them back or is unaware that they like her. this could develop into her eventually having feelings for ur muse or not, whatever we want ! OR blair could def have a crush on someone who does not like her back. maybe that person is super non-committal, or they simply do not like her back. we could plot this out however <3

current fling/friends w benefits - someone she is currently seeing/sleeping with. could be no strings attached, or there could b some feelings there. maybe they don’t want to make it anything serious, or maybe they’re ready to take it to the next level. maybe one person is ready to go further, and the other isn’t.

enemies w benefits - imagine the tension!!! they started out hating each other, but ended up hooking up. maybe it was a one time thing, or maybe they can’t stop going back to each other. i think it would b cool if they kept it a secret, they don’t want anyone else to know. this could develop in soooo many ways !

ex-friends - someone she used to consider a close friend, but they had a falling out for whatever reason n maybe they hate each other now. maybe they want to re-kindle their friendship but don’t know how

sibling-like friendship - someone she sees like a sibling. they’re there for each other and look out for one another, always have each other’s backs. being an only child and not really close to her parents, blair would love a friend that she could basically call family !

dynamic duo - basically like her current best friend. this person is prob one of the closest people to her and knows her very well ! they could b a power duo, always looking out for each other

take care - someone who kind of looks after her ?? maybe when she parties a lil too hard and drinks a lil too much, someone who kind of takes care of her n makes sure shes ok ! they would be someone she trusts a lottttt

confidant - someone who confides in her or someone she confides in, or they confide in each other. they don’t necessarily have to be the closest friends ever, but they get along, trust each other, and maybe they talk more in private

rivals - they hate each other for whatever reason. maybe it’s jealousy or their personalities just clash, but for whatever reason they do not get along. i love a good enemies plot. they can just b nasty to each other !!! maybe they bring out a really bad side to blair that most ppl dont see. someone who makes her act like blair waldorf ( i’m def kidding abt the blair waldorf part )

bad influence - blair isn’t a goody-two-shoes by any means, but doesn’t really do anything crazy, so i’d luvv for someone to kind of influence her to do shit she normally wouldn’t on her own

these are all the plot ideas i can think of for now, but i’ll prob make a plots page later on and add more stuff !

so this is everything !! this has taken me longer than it should have but i’m finally done whew,,, cheers 2 me <3 anyway i would absolutely luv to plot, so feel free to hit me up on discord or tumblr im’s, or i can also come to u ! i’m so excited to get started <333 i’m gonna b logging off now most likely, since it’s 3 am my time, but i’ll be back in the morning

#hide.intro #✧.° ░ 𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒏 𝒍𝒐𝒐𝒏𝒂 ╱ ooc.#i finally did it !!!!#pls someone tell me ur proud of me... <3

8 notes · View notes

bringmecoffeeandroses · 6 years ago

Text

So, I did a stupid thing and re-watched 9x09.

And, while I think I’ve said my peace on the mistreatment/use of one Paul Jesus Rovia (actually, no, I haven’t, I never will because my sweet badass boy is dead and it was all a waste and tragedy and I die on this hill, okay?) I do think there were a few things I wanted to make note of. Go no farther if negativity or Adaptation spoilers/content bother you.

So, here goes my long-ass post:

I said this when I first saw the opening minutes, but I’m so glad AMC took the time to show us Paul’s dead face and blood gushing out of his chest. Definitely not a sign that they’re recapping the last episode for the people that didn’t tune in to 9x08.

Also, thank you for exploiting the hell out of the “shock” of Paul’s dead body but giving the brain stab so little time it was hard to figure out what the hell he was doing. It’s really important to leave that in though or I wouldn’t have thought anyone was smart enough to do it. ‘Cause these people haven’t been doing this for ten years and you’re assuming your audience is too dumb to realize anything happens off screen.

Why would they not have a permanent guard on Negan? Like I get it, he’s been locked for years but they weren’t even doing it back when Rick was alive and I gotta tell you, that’s fucking insane. Like, we’ve literally seen that Maggie wasn’t the only one who wanted justice, what would stop someone from Oceanside agreeing with Maggie and going off to murder Negan??? (It also might have been nice to see a real situation in which Negan escapes with an act more direct than Father Gabriel being a dumbass but whatevs. (No, I don’t care if the comics did this. In comics, Maggie came after Negan after he escaped and assuming that one of the Saviors wouldn’t take the opportunity to bust him out or someone from one of the three communities he terrorized wouldn’t come to kill him is a kind of interesting dynamic - protecting everyone from Negan but also protecting Negan from everyone else. Just...more interesting.)

Negan walking around with a shovel in a house where he might meet Judith or Michonne makes me itchy. Unless he’s planting sunflowers, that shovel can stay the fuck away from my Grimes girls.

Still think you should’ve just shot him, Jude.

Okay, Negan’s speech about how Alexandria is a wonderland is fairly easy to follow. But part of what Rick was trying to teach everyone was that you need other communities, the saviors could be saved, ect. It’s definitely not like the comics in that Negan learns the lesson about civilization being “protecting the weak among us” but my biggest problem is that it’s all kind of moot in that TV!Rick was wrong? Like, the communities have nothing to do with each other, particularly Alexandria? And the Saviors are dead or gone? This is the problem when you try to shove too much into a ton of character exits and time jumps AND you try to follow comic storylines without applying the message/main character arc from it. You might think I’m over-exaggerating but it’s half the reason Negan contrasts with the Whisperers and ends up killing Alpha. He’s showing loyalty to Rick, yeah, but he also identifies the reason he is different from the Whisperers. They give no mercy to weakness and that’s what makes them animals - that’s the lesson Rick Grimes was trying to teach Negan by saving him.

(I’m just saying, Negan’s redemption arc is gonna be damn hard without Rick and Judith - who has no connection with who Negan was and is still not developed - is not a character that can show that narrative.)

I know that Eugene talking in riddles is a quirk but can someone tell the writers that some quirks are not necessary in every damn scene and are obnoxious and mood-breaking? Just let Eugene be silent and terrified please?

I should also note that I see no head wound on Paul and I am completely and utterly okay with that.

So, I have serious issues with the “Jesus chose to be out there”/ “It was bound to happen” lines. Like yes but also no? Paul might have been reckless in the past by going out but that had little to no bearing on why he was out now? He was rescuing Eugene. You were out there for the same reason, Aaron. He didn’t die on a picnic in the woods. An enemy snuck up on him. Period. And the alternative was either you or Daryl or someone else from your group dies because they get surprised by them. Or you leave Eugene to fend for himself in the barn. Which I’m all for if it meant Jesus would be around but. you know. I’m all for a grieving person thinking this way - a lesson learned in fear - but that better be resolved, if only for Aaron’s sake.

Ugh, I hate that no one’s crying over Paul but Tara putting her hand on Jesus makes me really fucking weepy. It’s almost like they could have developed this relationship to a point where it fucking mattered... -_-

10/10, Tammy is getting too much screentime and going to end up on a pike. Caling it now.

Can I ask what happened to the walkie-talkies? They were solar, right? There weren’t a limited number of them in the world, right? Why is this not still a thing? Did I miss something? That would make this Luke/Alden situation moot.

You know, if they wanted to give someone a romance with Rosita, I wouldn’t have complained if it was Tara. I never hardcore shipped it but it would’ve made more sense and this pregnancy thing wouldn’t be an issue. Or, if it was, I’d care more. lmao.

This writing is so stupidly on the nose. Gee, could Henry’s questions also be what’s going on inside Daryl’s head? ~~~The world may never know!!!!!!!~~~

Weird side note: I love The Dream Team/Jaaryl and all but I feel like the show kind of dismisses the fact that Aaron is (presumably?) a single dad? Like, I love seeing him out there and I’m all for the end of cooping up my precious gays but whats happens to Gracie if he dies? She has no other parental figure. He is the only person she has and I feel like “making it back to Gracie” is a fear no one considers, not even Aaron? Like, leaving an orphan in this world would be fucking awful, especially since her OG parents were already murdered. Just...this is why this cast of thousands doesn’t fucking work when you don’t explore the communities rather than just a couple characters.

Listen, I give Michonne her due but I firmly believe that Tara could run this place on her own. The show took all that time saying that Paul was a shitty leader that left all the time, the least you could do is point out that Tara has been handling it like a single leader this entire time. Tara handles her shit, man. TARA FOR HILLTOP 2019.

I choose to believe that Daryl going hard on Lydia is redirection of his grief and no one can stop me. Daryl Dixon repressing his feelings is pretty much a life motto for him and I both love him for it and want to hog tie him and drop him into therapy.

I’m deeply not into the Whisperers so far and am kind of glad to be out from TWD’s viewership (hopefully for good) but this reminds me of the odd hope I had watching Fear The Walking Dead. Once upon a blue moon, I’d hoped that FTWD was prequel-ing the Whisperers in TWD. Like, Madison and Alicia would end up being Alpha and “Lydia” and we’d get to really get a feel for the characters in TWD. Lame idea, I guess, but that’s what I wanted to happen. Not that FTWD has been a waste of a show that barely connects with TWD or anything. IDK, I just wanted to share that because this Whisperer storyline is going to be the worst and I honestly hope it all burns.

So, yeah, just a few notes for those who are bored enough to read them.

58 notes · View notes

doireannskycatch · 6 years ago

Note

So, Racheal, I've been meaning to ask. You mentioned liking Elsa's Social Bunnies once, but I've never heard of it before you brought it up. Can you explain it to me, see if it's worth my time?

okay see THIS is the kinda tumblr interaction I LIVE FOR

DOIREANN TAKE NOtes

So!! Pretending you’ve been living under a fucking rock, Elsa’s Social Bunnies was this kid’s cartoon that aired on KidZ Zone from when I was, like, eleven to when I was sixteen. (Not KidzTube, Dad always used to get that mixed up. KidzTube’s owned by SBN, KidZ Zone’s owned by Fox, okay???) And like me and Mollie and Anni would watch it all the time growing up, though Anni was four when it started so she didn’t really get it at first. Oh, and the idiot too. He said he was too old for it, but I watched it til I was older than he was, so what’s his excuse?

Okay the premise. There’s this girl called Elsa, obviously, who doesn’t have a lot of friends because she’s home-schooled and the couple she does have are home-schooled too and aren’t that great to her actually, which kind of sounds like it’s pushing an agenda now that I say it out loud but it’s really subtle about it I promise. So cus she’s lonely and not in a great place it falls to the Social Bunnies to come along and get her out of that shithole. They like teach her good social skills, help her build up new friendships and get the fuck out of the old ones, and by the end of the first season Elsa’s popular enough that the bunnies don’t really need to help her anymore but she’s friends with them too so they still get to visit her and she like scopes out other cases for them and it becomes more of a character of the day setup. So it’s kinda like Littlest Pet Shop and Fairly Odd Parents in a blender, right?

Honestly I think the show got better once it switched to that second season onwards, cus I don’t think any of us actually liked Elsa herself. It’s like, she’s the one who’s gotta be helped, they’re not gonna give her any real character. The bunnies are the real stars!! Jabber’s my favourite, she’s like a total klutz but knows how to get shit done, and you don’t really see klutziness in the action-y one like that so much so that’s cool. Also she’s voiced by Debi Derryberry, cus of course we gotta get Debi Derryberry in there somewhere. Anni likes Babble; she tended to focus on getting the old friends away from her more than making new ones, it found that pretty interesting;;; and Mollie lik... liked Gabby, cus she was like cold and super cool and I guess she related to that. So

OH YEAH there was a fourth one, right? They had to add a boy bunny in the third season to kind of balance things out, so they added Prolix, which I think means ‘super long winded’. He was super cranky worse than Gabby but very very very smart. I remember a lot of kids in Mollie’s year found him annoying at first cus god forbid girl shows have girls in them, but as we got older everyone slooowly started thinking he was the best one in the whole group? I’m still not really sure how that happened. Still don’t really like him. But I guess I’m dumb like that??

So yeah hopefully that’ll be enough to get you started, Anon? Tell me if you check it out or like it or - I just, I think it’s really cool and funny and, and cool. And maybe it’s just cus I’m remembering it wrong cus it was one of the only shows we all wanted to watch together, all three of us, but. IDK it just holds a special place in my heart.

...damn now I wanna see if I can get Moscow to stream it or something. brb

#it's racheal #Anonymous

3 notes · View notes

dragon-ball-meta · 7 years ago

Link

There comes a time in everyone’s life when they have to do something they dread. For me, that’s typically addressing Dragon Ball articles written by ScreenRant. Bear in mind, this is super stupid. For the most part, I included the complaint’s title in the response, but you may need to click through to read the extent of the stupid. Except for #4, since that was a doozy. So without wasting any more of your dash space, here we go with a Read More and a LONG list of responses to utter stupidity.

Time for yet another long-winded reply to yet another clickbait article you guys crapped out about a series you clearly didn't even watch. 19. "THE TIME HE WAS INEXPLICABLY BEATEN BY KEFLA" I see you're ignoring three major factors. a. That Kefla is a Fusion of two female warriors. b. That Super Saiyan levels do not have inherent power levels, they're merely multipliers. So this scenario is still quite possible. c. That Goku, in this instance, was still half drained and recovering from his fight with Jiren. Hence why he wasn't even going all-out. Good golly, did you like, just not watch the ep and pick this one out of the YouTube Comment Section? Also, idk if you know, but.. he kinda does win this fight. 18. "HIS POWER LEVEL ALWAYS BEING HIGHER THAN VEGETA'S" (Yes. They actually tried to use THIS as a complaint.) Goku's power level was not 90K on Namek. He was holding BACK vs Captain Ginyu and his power level hit 180K. Secondly, Zenaki power boosts go proportionately to exactly how near death you were and how extensive the damage you healed from was. In Goku's case, his body not only suffered from having a foreign spirit in it, but was also once again crushed and mangled to the point of being inoperable. He healed from extensively far more damage than Vegeta did, hence his level being boosted to a higher degree. That's also not even factoring how much fighting Freeza pushed him, let alone the inherent boost that comes with unlocking that new form. But I do also note this website seemingly forgetting Vegeta once supposedly surpassed Goku because he got upset his waifu got smacked. Which actually IS an asspull but w/e. 17. "UNDERUTILIZING HIS SUPER SPEED" Goku uses his speed all the time. It was illustrated even back during the Saiyan Saga that even the human characters were fighting and moving at speeds so fast as to be almost imperceptible even to a trained warrior's eyes. They had to use their eyes in tandem with sensing the fighters to figure out what was happening. It's also why, in later fights, those who are stronger or more adept at sensing energies have to sort of play announcer to those who get lost. 16. "THAT TIME HE PASSED AWAY FROM HEART FAILURE" That... that was an alternate timeline and had nothing at all to do with ending the series. Goku contracted a heart disease in Future Trunks' timeline, Androids came and attacked, nearly wiped out the populace, Trunks came forward to prevent Goku's death in THIS timeline and also to hopefully get help in becoming stronger from him and his father, presumably then being able to save his own timeline as well. You are literally the sole person I have ever seen become confused by this. Again, I don't think you read or even watched this series, man. 15. "UNDERUTILZING HIS SOLAR FLARE" Solar Flare became increasingly less useful as the enemies it was being used ON either had a natural immunity to it or simply had the ability to sense ki and work around it, something not fully overcome until Krillin managed to amp it up so intensely as to dull even that sense. That said, it actually HAS been used, fairly effectively, in many fights, by Goku and others. So I'm not really sure how anything's been "forgotten". 14. "HE REGULARLY FORGETS HIS PHILOSOPHY OF ‘NEVER GIVING UP’" Goku... stood down once. One time. The actual hell are you talking about here? The SOLE time he chose to "give up" was vs Cell as he knew Cell was learning from him AND that he couldn't beat him. Their sole shot was in Gohan finally breaking through that all and ascending beyond a Super Saiayn. No other possible outcome. The only other thing you can accuse him of is holding back vs Buu, but that was both because he was stalling and using energy would reduce the time he could stay, and... well, because he was dead and gone, and felt it behooved him to teach new defenders rather than once again solve it himself and keep the Earth reliant on backup from a dead guy. But even then, Goku was guesstimating that he MIGHT have been able to win there. It's not a 100% guarantee. Also I believe the line you're quoting may be a dub-only line, which... would warrant many more paragraphs. 13. "CHILDHOOD GOKU KEPT GETTING SINGLED OUT FOR HAVING A TAIL" Goku was singled out over his tail because he was clearly a boy, yet also clearly had a monkey tail. Were he an anthro monkey, this would not phase people. That he was seemingly human, yet had this appendage, was odd and stood out. No, it was not an attempt to traumatize him as he thought everyone else was weird for not having one, and it didn't phase him one bit. Nor was the storyline about being a "Saiyan" even a concept at the time. You're way overthinking things to invent problems here. 12. "THE LACK OF PHYSICS REGARDING HIS HAIR" Wow, we're already scraping the barrel. This bodes well. His hair stays up when underwater when he has energy flowing up around him too, fyi. 11. "LEARNING MORE FROM KING KAI THAN ANYONE ELSE, DESPITE BEING THERE FOR THE SHORTEST AMOUNT OF TIME" Different. People. Have. Different. Degrees. Of. Potential. And. Skill. Goku's giftedness at being able to manipulate energy as well as the naturally higher healing factors and durability of the Saiyans.is what made him such a great candidate to learn the Kaio-ken and Spirit Bomb, and Goku's aptitiude at the former was only ever really met or matched by Krillin, who actually learned to form, aim, and throw the Spirit Bomb faster than even Goku did. So there's that. 10. "MASTERING ULTRA INSTINCT AFTER ONLY USING IT 3 TIMES" So again, you didn't watch the series, I see. Goku didn't "master" Ultra Instinct at all. He managed to fully tap into the completed form by being pushed far enough and finally taking Whis' instruction to heart, relying on instinct rather than overthinking, becoming one with his movements. BUT... it also kinda took a massive toll on his body, AND he has no idea how to even begin accessing it at will yet. So while that form may be called "Mastered" Ultra Instinct, Goku himself has not mastered it at all, by his own admission. 9. "THE TIME HE LET FRIEZA POWER BACK TO 100% RATHER THAN TAKING HIM OUT" You mean the time he declared he wanted to face Freeza at 100% of his power on an already-dying planet with no one really left to get hurt at a point when he was in a state of mind more savage than his normal self? How horrible. And no, he didn't kill him, and he explained why. NEITHER of these acts were acts of mercy, as this article claims, but of dominance. Humiliation and cruelty. Goku faced Freeza at the peak of his power, and overcame him so handily that killing him would have been almost pathetic. So he chose to let him live with the knowledge that a Saiyan, a Monkey, a being he viewed as lower than the dirt itself, had faced him at full power and deemed him not even worthy of the honor of a warrior's death. It was a sentence to live in shame. Not mercy. 8. "HIS FARMING SKILLS SERIOUSLY DECREASED AS HE AGED" Goku was literally doing manual labor to plow a field as part of Roshi's training vs actual farming done professionally with intent to sell his crops. You kinda need very straight rows to maximize your harvest. This is one of the dumbest complaints in here. 7. "GOKU HAS THE ABILITY TO DESTROY PLANETS, BUT NOT OPEN DOORS" I take it back, they actually dipped into the Legacy of Goku games for this one. It's called a Quest, my guy. Jeebus. 6. "THE TIME HE TELEPORTED HIMSELF AND AN EXPLODING CELL TO KING KAI'S PLANET" OK. Aside from Instant Transmission/Instantaneous Movement (as Goku knows it at least) requiring you to know where you're going OR have a Ki signal to lock onto (meaning no empty planets or random spots in Space), what "Conflict" did Goku start other than mild annoyance from King Kai and his pets as they were the only ones there? And even King Kai conceded he made the best call he could have given the circumstances. So... what? 5. "IGNORING THE PHYSICS OF SPACE" You are literally citing filler that actually makes logical sense in context with the rest of the series which shows that Saiyans can indeed survive for at least a time in Space, to say nothing of upper atmospheres. Lord. HOO boy, they're really picking #4 to get stupid on so Imma actually paste their entire thing before replying here. 4. "HIS HORRIBLE PARENTING TACTICS" "This is one nonsensical part of Goku that the show occasionally touches on, but not nearly enough. Goku is truly a horrible father to his son, Gohan. Not only is he never there for his wife and kid, but when he is there, it feels like he's always pitting his son against some super-powered adult who wants to punch the kid's teeth in." When? Piccolo's the one who forced the kid to fight the Saiyans. Gohan CHOSE to go to Namek, and Goku tried to keep him OUT of the fighting once he arrived. It was one of the chief reasons he was in such a hurry to get to Namek. When exactly was Goku tossing a small child in front of evil enemies? And again, stated for the hundredth time, Goku was there for his family far, FAR more often than when he was gone, and when he WAS, it was for good reason. "While Goku's reasoning is that he's just trying to train and prepare Gohan, the logic of it doesn't make much sense at all." How is training with your son not training your son? The first time Goku ever actively trained Gohan, or trained with him, was during the wait for the Androids, and it was for the very reason that he knew Gohan was actually dead in that other timeline. Best to have the boy able to defend himself as best he can. It also served as a bonding time between father and son. "At what point does Chi-Chi just leave with Gohan in order to keep their son safe from the dangerous whims of her husband? And at what point does Child Protective Services step in? While Goku isn't personally harming his child himself, he's almost always putting Gohan in mortal danger." Hold the hell up, when did Goku EVER hurt Gohan himself in any way other than training him? When? Piccolo hit that kid far, FAR more than Goku EVER did, yet y'all call him "Green Dad: or "Gohan's REAL Dad". If you're gonna make these dumbass comments, back 'em up. "During the Cell Games, even, Goku pitted his son against Cell, who is arguably stronger than Goku himself, and then gave Cell Senzu Beans to make him stronger. It's almost as if Goku hates being a father so much that he wants to end his son's life at any means necessary." ...Cell's not "arguably" stronger than Goku himself, he was. By a good bit. But so was Gohan. So much so that he knew that even though he was pushing himself, Gohan seemed to think his father was moving slowly and holding back because, as he sensed in the ROSAT (Time Chamber), Gohan had surpassed him and was nearly at the level of ascending beyond Super Saiyan. He just needed to push himself, get anrgy. So to facilitate this, thinking the adrenaline rush of a close fight would do it, and to psych Cell out, yes. He gave him a Senzu. And yes, he realized later he made a mistake... and he was actually willing to break the rules, take a Senzu himself, and go back in to try to save Gohan, to fight alongside him. I love how you all overlook that so much, to say nothing of the love and affection he OPENLY shows his boy throughout. GOD this is so hostile and stupid. 3. "HIS SHIP IS SOMEHOW USABLE, LONG AFTER IT WAS DESTROYED BY A SPECIAL BEAM CANNON" Number one? That's a filler moment. Never happens in the manga. Yes, filler created problems. Been saying it for years. Not a problem with the original story though. Number two? Even then they say Dr. Brief used the PIECES of Goku's pod to build that new ship. Specifically saying "It was in pretty rough shape, but he managed to use what he could salvage as a base". Non-issue. 2. "INEXPLICABLY SURVIVING A SPECIAL BEAM CANNON DRILLING THROUGH HIS CHEST" ... Literally HOW do you get this stupid? Literally how? Serious question, and the ultimate proof that you again neither ever watched nor read the series before making this list. Goku dies from that. Outright. He's wished back to life one year later with the Dragon Balls. This is not something left up to interpretation, or something that's debatable. It's a fact. Yikes, bro. 1. "HE IS GENERALLY WAY TOO OVERPOWERED" Ah yes, the generic "he's too strong and therefore boring" argument. Not sure why that's on this list but uh.. Goku's been in positions where weaker characters could indeed feasibly take him out. nothing nonsensical about it at all. Multiple times during the ToP, he was nearly bested by warriors technically weaker than himself who used tactics, strategy, to get the upper hand. It's not hard to do. Goku's not Silver Age Superman here, he does have limitations and weaknesses. This list was plain embarrassing, man. Seriously, at least Watch/Read Dragon Ball before doing articles on it. Just... seriously. CBR and SR need to find people who’ve actually done research about this instead of crapping it out.

78 notes · View notes

ughthatimagineblog · 7 years ago

Text

i’ll see you tomorrow, boyfriend

draco malfoy x reader | university!au

requested: Hey could I get a draco x reader au from his point of view where he meets her in uni and has a crush but tries to hide it? Maybe they become friends (he goes to her dance shows and orchestra performances and such) and he falls more and more until eventually he just blurts out that he's in love?

word count: 3614

warnings: abuse, draco being edgy, lucius malfoy, maybe ooc narcissa a lil bit (its been 5ever since i wrote anything even mentioning her)

a/n: this is an au soooo yeah idk how this went. i liked it. i added in extra plot to make it semi spicy. also if ur sensitive to abuse then pls go away no offense but youll be triggered and i dont want ppl to get upset so i warned u

She caught him. And he was trapped.

It was late winter. He was focused with school and everything was fairly easy. Platinum hairs like feathers ruffled in the cool wind under the hot sun and he took his time walking to his new class of the semester. He was majoring in Business and Biological Engineering. Nothing would distract him from that. He had a goal. Make his father proud.

Life had different plans. Of course Draco would fulfill his destiny of graduating in those majors, but not without a small distraction. Walking into one of the core classes he had this semester he saw her. At first it was a glance. She was beautiful. He lowered his head and took his seat a few rows behind her.

Class began not much longer and Draco could focus but hardly. He knew he shouldn’t have been distracted by some silly girl but this girl was far more than silly. He noted she had the class with a couple of her friends and he would hear her laugh often. Sometimes she would get called out by the professor and shyly quiet down, her face turning red. It made his heart beat. He found it strangely poetic to note he had one. For so long he had disregarded emotion and feelings. Now, he had a new start.

That ‘start’ began a year ago and life at university had grown on him. Nothing was to get in his way. He was a determined student who rarely spoke to people and when he did it was something snarky or completely neutral. The seas of his life were calm. They were fine. You were the storm on the horizon.

The first day with you

Draco could feel the sun and cool air on his skin as he crossed campus to his English class of the semester. He wanted to sneer. The sun was nothing but a large ball of gas and flame to him today. The sun was not supposed to be out. Just another class to pass and then we move on. He thought to himself, walking into the B Block building. He saw a few kids rush into the building before him and they held the door open for him.

He nodded a thanks, his mouth continuously in a tight line and continued to his classroom. It was fairly small. Only about twenty four students. He knew all of them from the past semester or the previous year. Taking a seat about halfway in between the front and back, he opened up his binder and notebook, waiting patiently for class to start. Of course that meant other people were talking in that time. It was the same chatter, Draco knew. About him.

“That’s Draco Malfoy.”

“I heard he didn’t need scholarships. His dad paid for his tuition.” “He’s creepy. I heard he never talks.”

“Really? I heard he’s mean.” “Probably, I mean how can you grow up with people like the Malfoy’s and not be rude.” “Malfoy? He’s a Malfoy?”

It was all the same and he had come to ignore it. It was best to go through school by himself than spend it with loads of friends. It was easier for him. If something were to disrupt that, he would be a goner. His grades would be a goner as well. His father would make him pay.

Class started not much but five minutes later and the professor began to introduce themself. “Hello, class. I am Professor Eva Beverly and I will be your advanced English Composition and Literature class. This class will be easy if you pay attention. One should always be prepared here and if not-” The professor was cut off by the door swinging open and a girl stumbling into the classroom. Your back was facing Draco, but he could hear you say ‘Thank you’ to an advisor in the hall. Once you turned around, his heart nearly dropped. You were stunning and suddenly, his facial expression was one of shock instead of mysterious resentment. “Miss Y/L/N. You are late.” The professor crossed her arms. “I know Professor Beverly, I couldn’t remember which block this class was on so I had to go back to the advisors. I reality I tried to get here five minutes early and-” “Take a seat.” “Yes, ma’am.” You had rambled. Draco, if it were anyone else, would have found it annoying. But it was you. ‘Miss Y/L/N’ If he could only learn your first name. He was in luck. Empty seats surrounded Draco and for once in his life, he thanked whoever would listen for being the kid not anyone would want to sit by. Of course anyone who had any sense that is. But this girl, Draco could see, did not as you chose the seat to his right, in the row in front of him. To your right, a blonde girl wearing a simple flannel was laughing and Draco took it that she was this new girls friend. He recognized the blonde from the beginning of the semester. The both of you were freshman. To his dismay, however, the blonde was also one of the girls whispering about him. He was a goner. No doubt she would tell his beautiful crush all about what a ‘creep’ he was. As Draco dwelled on this, he couldn’t help but how much less of a creep he would be. . . with you.

Four months spent with you.

Fortunate for Draco, the girl, who’s name he learned to be Morgan, had not spoken of him to you, which gave him the chance to speak with you. It was completely out of character, but he set limits for himself. He would not allow you to distract him. Too much. He was in for a disappointment. In a way, Draco was aware of this. In fact, he had been thinking about it on his walk to class that day. His walk, with you. “Do you have any clue the word count Professor Beverly wants to have for our essay this Friday?” You asked Draco. He shrugged slightly. “Shouldn’t be more than two pages or about nine hundred words.” He replied and you grunted, frustrated. “I was hoping it to be more.” He looked at you, a small smirk forming at his lips. He had learned a lot about you in the past month. Your favorite color, what music you liked. He knew of the latter by looking at your phone from his seat. When you used it in class it was to switch from Spotify to Pandora to the Music app and back and forth. You were quite indecisive with your taste and the connection in the class was spotty.

“What, like two thousand words?” Draco inquired. He also learned you were a performing arts major and loved literature as well. You actually were quite popular in the sense that you knew a lot of people and did a lot of things. You were in the theatre department, the University orchestra, a scout for the local charity and the choir. Right now, you had been stressed trying to balance school work with the outside activities. That upcoming weekend, Draco remembered you had both a choir concert and a charity event all in the same day. You also had three core classes out of four periods on four days of the week. He wished he could take some of the load off of your hands and it killed him that he couldn’t. You and Draco had been spending quite a lot of time together and you only started hearing the rumors about him a month after you were seen as friends. You didn’t believe them though. Draco had an intimidating look, but he was quite kind to you and had a fantastic sense of humor. You also found him extremely attractive. The past four months had been filled with you working around school and extracurriculars all with Draco’s help. He went home once a month but you would see him again the Monday following the weekend and he always helped you study. Eventually you moved to sit next to him rather than in front of him and you couldn’t help but find yourself staring at him every once in awhile. You and him did not compute well in your head though. There was something off about him. Something about his family seemed odd. He never spoke of his parents and when he did he used his father's first name but called his mother ‘mom’. You had asked if they were seperated but when he replied negative you left it alone. Unfortunately, this just added onto your worry.

On the other hand, Draco was also worrying about a similar issue. Over the four months his grades had went down by two points. He still had A’s but if there was something Lucius Malfoy didn’t notice, it would be how big of an arse he is. Draco couldn’t attend your events this weekend. And oh, how he wanted to more than anything. He had seen pictures of you at said events before. For the orchestra concert you wore a black dress that made you look stunning and at your last charity event, you wore a beautiful gown that made Draco want to kiss you right then and there. He wanted more than anything to see you look so magical in person, but this was his weekend trip home. He couldn’t miss it. Not on his father’s watch.

“So, can you make it?” You asked, knowing what the answer would most likely be. “No, I have to visit my father. He wants to make sure I’m doing well in school.” He wants to ask why my grades are still not as good as they used to be. He thought to himself. He subconsciously touched the unseen scars on his back from where his father had punished him many times before. “Ah, well tell your mother ‘hello’ for me. And be sure to give her this. It’s for Christmas. I am a few months late but it took me awhile to get ahold of it.” You smiled and handed him a small box you had quickly pulled from your bag. He opened the box to reveal a medium sized necklace with emerald gems. “Y/N. . . You really shouldn’t have.” Draco was speechless. It was beautiful. And for you to do that for his mother, it was baffling. He really liked you. “It’s alright, Draco. Let’s get to class.” You smiled, realizing you reached your classroom. You opened the door for him and you both entered, only for Draco to find it impossible to focus.

The ride home for Draco was impossible. He lived an hour and a half away and it was not long enough. He was only waiting for the dread of going home. Parking his car in the drive, he already saw his father in one of the windows. Checking the time, Draco saw it was six in the evening. Your concert had started and would end in thirty minutes and your charity event started at eight. He sighed, knowing he would be enduring a much worse night. Subconsciously, he clutched your present in his jacket pocket as he approached the front door, his suitcase in his other hand. His mother opened the door and he almost felt relieved, but the feeling quickly left him as he knew his father was still somewhere in the house. “Draco.” His mother smiled and pulled him in for a hug. He closed his eyes and sighed. “Mom.” He sighed in relief, wrapping his arm around her. “Come in, come in.” She ushered Draco into the house and he left his suitcase by the door, only to be greeted by his father. “Father.” Draco greeted. “Draco.” Lucius said, much less fond than his wife. “I understand that your grades are still not well. Is it still because of this girl?” Lucius asked coldly and Narcissa put a hand on her son. “Lucius, not now. He just got home.” She sighed and Lucius shot her a glare. “I will address whatever problems that need to be addressed. Draco?” He replied. “It’s not because of the girl.” He muttered, feeling small. “Is that so? You told your mother you met a girl about four or five months ago. When did your grades drop? Four or five months ago. Before then, nothing was wrong. Now you have some stupid girl around and suddenly your future is compromised.” Lucius spat and Draco felt his hand ball into a fist. “She’s absolutely not stupid.” Draco said, harshly. His father scoffed. “Oh really? Do you know where she lives? Do you even know if she has both parents? If she even has money?” Lucius scoffed and Draco aggressively stepped closer to his father. “She doesn’t have both parents at home but I’m twice the man you are so even I can look past something as petty as being against that.” Draco spat and was met with a sting on his cheek.

A sting, a gasp, a raised hand and the turn of a head.

The sting was delivered by his father's raised hand, causing Draco’s head to turn on impact and his mother to gasp and hurry to his side. Draco inhaled deeply, trying not to let the salt in his tears make his eyes go red. He turned away from his father to his mother. “Mom, Y/N gave this to me to give to you. She said it was for Christmas and it’s a little late and she’s sorry.” Draco calmly handed her the box. He turned to his father. “She also said to apologize for not getting anything for you because she doesn’t know much about you or your interests, but she says she promises to get you a gift for Christmas next time.” Draco said with a sour look. A tear dropped from his eye. “You don’t deserve anything she will ever give you.” Draco said, shaking with anger. His mother, behind him, had opened the gift from you and covered her mouth in shock. She saw the authenticity in the necklace and based on what Draco had told her about you, she knew that it must had cost you a fortune to afford that present for her. And here her husband was, insulting the girl who her son perfectly deserves, despite her social status. “Lucius.” She said with a tight lip. “What?” He snapped at her, his chin tilted high. “It’s not like he’s in love with the thing.” He spat and Draco balled his fists once more. “Actually. . .” Draco paused and looked at his crying mother. “I do.” She smiled. His father looked disgusted. “You what?” He asked. “I love her.” Draco confirmed and turned to the door. He grabbed his suitcase and pulled his mother close. “I’ll meet you every now and again, but I refuse to meet with him.” He whispered under his breath and pulled her in for a hug. He kissed her forehead before opening the door. “Where are you going?” Lucius asked, angrily. “A much better place to support the girl I love and I’m not coming back until you fix the way you see her.” He said harshly before slamming the door.

Draco stopped at a gas station half way back to Uni so he could change into a nice black shirt and some trousers. The argument at home only took thirty minutes so he was making good time. The only problem was traffic. When he did get to campus, however, he did memorize the building the event would be held in. He found a space to park and rushed in, catching the start just as the lights went down. There were a couple open seats in the back and he thought he spotted you towards the front but it was too dark to tell. He just waited patiently, not speaking to the others at his table.

A few people went on stage and spoke about helping children with cancer as well as a few other charities said people were helping. It wasn’t until a blonde woman on stage mentioned your charity that Draco really paid attention. “Now please welcome the founder for the Arts for Acknowledgment program, a program funded by donations here by students to fund educational programs and arts to acknowledge lost or underappreciated cultures, Y/N Y/L/N.”

And then a girl stood up in the crowd and Draco could no longer believe he had ever known you previous to that moment. You were stunning. He knew it was a black tie event, similar to a gala but you looked like royalty. Your hair was pinned back and your gown was a long and beautiful golden dress that had an off shoulder top but flared out to a large bottom.

And the way you walked so graceful onto the stage. The way you smiled to the crowd. He couldn’t help but snicker in contrast to the first day the two of you met. You clumsily falling into the classroom gave him the impression you would do poorly in heels. He was wrong. “Tonight, i would like to thank the help of my fellow classmates for supporting and donating as well as submitting suggestions and artwork. Thank you. I would like to thank my mother, for pushing me to pursue the goal of helping other people. By using my advantages to help those that had none. Thank you. I would love to thank my counselor who has helped me get through every anxiety attack or depressive episode I have had along the way. Really, without you I wouldn’t be as organized as I am with my life.” You laughed and Draco knew he was in love. He smiled. “And finally, I would like to thank my best friend, Draco Malfoy, who has been a silent push these past four months ton really put everything together. He has stayed up late countless nights with me to help put together final touches on payment plans, architectural deals or gallery organizations. Really, he should get some of the credit. I love that man for everything he’s done for me. Thank you.” Your words wavered in the last sentence and Draco’s world was paused. I love that man for everything he’s done for me. The words rang around his head like a pinball machine. Your voice wavered and it only happens when there was something behind your words you weren’t telling.

Draco felt an impulse and he decided to act upon it. “I am here.” He said as loudly as he could without yelling. Heads turned, yours being one of them. One of the women close to the stage looked appalled. “Young man! I don’t think-” “It’s alright.” You said, breathless yet a smile was glued to your face. The woman sat down with a huff and Draco made his way to the stage, his heart nearly exploding every step of the way. If he was wrong about this, he was about to embarrass himself in front of about, say, four hundred people or so.

He reached the mic and away from the mic, you spoke in a hushed tone. “I thought you were with your parents tonight.” He smirked. “You’re much better company.” He smiled and you mirrored his expression. “Ladies and gentlemen, this woman that stands before you is absolutely incredible. Yes, it’s true I stayed up countless nights to help, however, I barely deserve a mention. This project is hers and hers alone and to take any of the credit would be improper. How hard Y/N has had to work to get all of this done transcends me. But she has done it. For so many people. And she says she loves me for all I’ve done for her?” Draco spoke into the mic. “No. I love her for her generosity and all she’s done for you.” He stated, giving you a quick glance and noticed you were tearing up. He turned to you, but made sure the mic was able to pick up his words. “For me to let her go and be with someone else would break my heart.” His heartbeat accelerated. Little did he know, so did yours. “Y/N, will you be my girlfriend? You are incredibly intelligent and ambitious with amazing morals. You are kind, funny, and smart both book and street and I would love to make you mine.” Some noises of adoration were heard from the audience. This only egged Draco on. He got down on one knee. “I have had to keep these feelings inside for the past four months. But Y/L, I love you. Very much. Be mine?” He asked and you nodded. There were cheers from the crowd. You could barely hear them once Draco stood up and pressed a chaste kiss to your lips. Your heart was on fire. Once turned away, his arm did not leave your side.

You delivered the rest of your speech and the night concluded itself with food, music, and lots of talking. By the end of the night, Draco was walking you back inside your dorm after driving you home.

“I never knew.” You both ended up saying. You both laughed. “Neither did I.” You said, reaching your dorm door. “You looked stunning tonight.” Draco commented, cupping your face. “You look handsome yourself.” You replied before he kissed you once more. “Goodnight, I’ll see you tomorrow. . . Girlfriend.” Draco whispered after pulling away. You giggled and smiled. “I’ll see you tomorrow, boyfriend.” You replied and left Draco’s ears ringing with the word. Boyfriend.

hope you enjoyed!

#draco x reader #draco malfoy x reader #draco x reader au #draco malfoy x reader au #harry potter imagines #fandom imagines #fandom #harry potter fandom #hp imagine #fanfiction

159 notes · View notes