#like i know hand gestures are not at all universal but this legit had me cackling

[cicadareverend]

They

[firecooking]

(bruhstation) hey neil! thank you very much for supporting fortezza bigg city so far :] I really appreciate the thought you've put into analyzing bits of my silly little AU, and I've also gained a huge appreciation for your own works as well. it's so clear you've put a lot of thought and research into your AU and it really blew my mind because everything is so meticulously thought out!!! and I'm looking forward to more!!! here's a quick sketch of your gal zaffre! once again thanks :3 (also you're inspiring me to make my own z-stacks oc! haha)

OHHH MY GOD LOOK AT HER MY BABY GIRL MY SWEET CHEESE SHE LOOKS AMAZING AHHH YOUR ART IS SO GOOD I LOVE YOUR FORM AND VOLUME AND HOW YOU DO YOUR LINE WEIGHT WITH THE OPACITY AND LINE DYNAMICS your handle on anatomy and rendering is really interesting to me, reading you work in Fire Alpaca with a mouse is mind boggling to me, i remember when I was doing the same years and years ago and the skill you show is really fascinating and i am jealous, the way your art is put together is scratching my brain. i have been doing art studies of it and trying to dissect it, it'd have such a interesting feel for animation, you have a wonderful style for breaking down into a limited animation style with a emphasis on dynamics with animation in a 8s, 6s, and 4s with 2s detailing and a hard tweening style [<- just professional animator things lol] The way you render shadow and lighting is also ough. This Zaffre is genuinely so wonderful, new desk top background moments. I love her gesture and expression here, it really captures her as a character! Also the way you draw hands, augh, just augh I wish.

You, my friend, are a fabulous illustrator!

And oh my god your AU is scratching my brain in ways I didn't think possible! I know so little yet there is so much there. When I genuinely say that it is affecting me as much as if not more that @askthefamous8 that is the highest compliment I can muster [that AU has been one of my special interests since 2015,]. I am legit making a post it note wall over FBC just like ATF8 had when I was in middle/high school

You have the most loyal human AU fan on your team now, I genuinely smile thinking about Fortezza Bigg City all day long, my friends and partner are getting annoyed to death from me ranting. sorry dear if you are reading this: I know you hate tugs

Also thank you! I really love doing in depth research, its the autism at work. I am a proud vehicle autistic. I've said it before but working on a ship for a summer just to know the mechanics of how actual sailing works is probably the most unhinged thing I can say I've done for accuracy sake. Loved my Captain and fellow crew, very sad I got sick and had to leave. Honestly would love to be a sailor if my heath wasn't bungled up and I wasn't like $200k of debt in animation college.

My humanoid vehicle AU's are partially based on my sadly never going to be picked up pitch bible for a science fiction based historical vehicle show [my fatal flaw is niche interests] And it literally makes my day to sit down and work on the most expansive and historically researched BS on earth, my AU is both a lovely love letter to TUGS as the show it is and a Love Letter to what TUGS wanted to be! At the end of the day TUGS wanted to be it's days Steven Universe or MASH [something I am gonna elaborate in another format later] but unfortunately it just didn't have the right ingredients. Its the Same as the TUGS musical I'm working on, it's a love letter to what TUGS both is and was supposed to be along with being a love letter to the characters themselves

Also:

Join the Z-Stacks OC League, we have cool hats and crime

[sultrysirens]

Monstertober: Part 7: Satyr

Universe: Original

Characters: Reader, Satyr

Rating: General

—

—

—

Three years ago you started a modeling agency under the premise of proving that the fey’s world denizens were just as attractive and deserving of praise as any given human. And it’d been an incredible success; after a bit of a rocky start in which you’d struggled to find any fey creatures willing to take a risk with you, especially under very little pay, your business had skyrocketed. 

The first people to come forward and model for you were, unsurprisingly, the nymphs. They were the most humanlike of the fey you’d seen, even with their inhumane features like green or blue skin, leaves for hair, semi-transparent bodies, and even straight-up talons on some, and their nature had meant they were willing to do risky things if it meant they had fun in the process. 

Then in had come — well — most everything. Crossing your door had come sphinxes, minotaurs, nagas, trolls, werewolves, even vampires — who, as it turned out, could be photographed, even the ones without reflections. (Only one kind of vampire didn’t cast reflections, they said, and there were over a dozen kinds. That was cool to know.) 

But one particular race had been strangely absent — until today. 

Today, for the first time, a satyr walked into your studio. 

Like most hooved creatures he wore horseshoes, and he was dressed nicely in fitted pants, a tank top, and leather coat. He had short, curly auburn hair and fur, and you could see already that he was an incredibly hairy man, on top of it. His chest hair eclipsed the neck of his low top, and when he took off his coat his arms were notably covered in thick hairs. 

His horns were short for a satyr, you mused, curving up and back a little more than a hand’s length. Given horns were a sign of age for satyrs, you guessed he was pretty young, maybe not even thirty yet. 

He greeted you warmly and shook your hand, his nails thick, dark and delicately pointed, and when he grinned at you his teeth were perfectly straight and white. 

“Welcome to my company,” you said with a return smile, gesturing for him to sit down. He took the chair opposite you and you introduced yourself, adding, “I’m the owner and technically CEO of Fey Beauty. You are?” 

“Demos,” he answered. “Demos Pantazis. One of your ads caught my eye, so…I thought I’d come and see if I could give it a shot.” 

You chuckled. “Well, normally I don’t allow straight-up walk-ins,” you teased, “but there has been a gap in the market you could help fill.” 

“Oh?” he asked, quirking his brows. 

“Until now, we haven’t had a single satyr seek us out,” you told him. “And I’ll admit I’m deathly curious about that. May I ask, do you have any idea why?” 

He gave a soft laugh. “My guess? Typically, most satyrs aren’t interested in fame. They just want quick, easy fun, and most that I’ve known want it without strings attached.” 

“Like relationships, or do you mean more like banks and paychecks?” 

He waved his hand. “All of it, really.” 

“Hm,” you hummed. “So what sets you apart, then?” 

“What do you mean?” 

“What made you come into the wide world of strings?” you teased. 

He chuckled. “Honestly…it seemed like a lot of fun.” Shrugging, he offered, “I guess I’m really no different, deep down.” 

You inclined your head. “All the better for me, then. Let’s get started, shall we?” 

He nodded and settled into his chair more comfortably, and then the work began. 

Aside from general things like checking his profile and work history and running a background check for potential crimes (he’d been arrested several times, but always for noise violations and loitering, and always with a group of party-goers, you found), you also put him in front of a camera and ran a few test shoots to see how he reacted to it. 

The photos were legit, though on a digital camera so it was easy to delete or replace them as needed. Afterwards you showed him the photos and he’d gotten adorably bashful about it, covering his face, blushing, and giggling. 

You approved him. He had great presence, took directions well, and was very photogenic. He didn’t have any references or referrals to give you, but that was fine. That just meant he was starting from the bottom and his work would carry him. 

Plus, you had a very good feeling about him. Thus far your “good feelings” were typically right on the money, so you foresaw good things for Demos. 

You were right; after a rocky first few months where you basically had to beg magazines and the like to give you a slot for a satyr model, he got the right opening and quickly became a hit. Within the next six months he was one of the most popular models in the country; scouts and managers were snapping at his hooves trying to get him to agree to whatever it was they were promoting at the time. 

It helped that he was jovial and personable. Most models tended to be withdrawn and even haughty when they reached a certain level of success. You’d even had a talk with one of your models (a mermaid) where she explained that smiling creates wrinkles, and that’s why she avoided smiling. 

Demos wasn’t deterred. He joked and laughed with people on a lower level than most, and you were pretty sure he was also flirting with most of them. But, you noted, he didn’t tend to hang out with other models. He seemed to prefer his fans and interviewers and even the bouncers at events more than them. 

In short, he was charming. He came off as very boyish in person, even though he looked almost ridiculously mature in most of his ads. Plus, you learned that he could actually play an ocarina. Someone at an event had teasingly asked him if he could play the pan pipes like “most satyrs”, and — after giving them a stern talk about racial stereotypes — he’d revealed that he couldn’t play the pipes, but he could play the ocarina. 

Later, after a particularly lengthy shoot that had exhausted everyone, you found Demos outside, on the balcony overlooking the city. This particular studio was a good twenty stories up, so it was quite the view. Given it was dusk, the city below was already lit up in pretty lights, but up this high you still had a sliver of fading daylight. 

It was a breathtaking sight. 

“Hey,” you greeted, coming up to the balcony. As always, being this close to the edge made your heart pound, and you were careful not to lean against the railing. 

He glanced at you, giving you a smile. “Hey,” he returned. He looked as exhausted as everyone else, it was visible through his makeup. 

Concerned, you gave his shoulder a rub, checking, “You feeling alright?” 

He nodded, his smile warming. He met your gaze, saying, “Yeah, actually. This was good. I’m about ready to collapse into bed and sleep for the next three days, but…happy, too.” 

You clucked your tongue. “Sounds like you should be leaving, then.”

He shrugged. “I will. Soon,” he promised. “Right now I just…want to take this in.” 

You glanced out over the city, expecting it wasn’t the streetlights and distant horns blaring that he was talking about. “Take what in?” you prompted. 

He drew in a deep breath, then sighed it out. “My life, I guess. I hadn’t thought I would go this far when I walked into your studio,” he told you. “I thought maybe I would show up in a couple magazines and that would be it, if I even got that far. Who would’ve thought I’d reach the point where I was seeing myself on billboards and in commercials?” he mused. 

You smiled at him. “I did,” you told him softly. 

He glanced at you, brows lifting in surprise. “You did?” 

“I did,” you confirmed, nodding. “Had a feeling about you, Demos. Something told me that people have been waiting for a guy like you to show up in the media. Looks like I was right,” you teased. 

He grinned, bashfully dipping his chin, his cheeks turning rosy. “Pávo,” he muttered. At your confused look, he translated, “Means ‘stop’.” 

You chuckled. “Never. You’re too cute when you blush, I can’t help it.” 

Hanging his head, he laughed, then rubbed his face with his palm and turned a grin on you. “You’re cruel to your employees,” he accused. 

“Only the cute ones,” you returned. 

He laughed again, then sobered, giving you a fond look. “Seriously,” he began, “this has been an incredible journey. And I have you and Fey Beauty to thank. I feel…blessed.” 

With a warm smile, you leaned in and whispered, “Want to know a secret?” 

He gave you a playful look, prompting quietly, “What?” 

“I’m the one who’s blessed,” you told him. Straightening, you murmured, “All I really wanted when I started this company was a chance to give the Fey world an opportunity to knock down some barriers, to show you’re more than your stereotypes. But I got so much more than just that, and every day I can’t help but feel like I might just be the luckiest person in the world.” 

Glancing up at him, you explained, “I get to meet and know all kinds of amazing people, and I get to help show your best sides to the world. We get fan mail by the bucket and sometimes I get the privilege of seeing some of the shiest people light up when they see they’ve received gifts in the mail. It’s incredible,” you told him. 

Demos was watching you with a fond look as you spoke, and at the end he gave you what might’ve been the most beautiful smile he’d ever shown. He leaned towards you, a hand coming to your waist, to gently tug you forward, and your heart skipped a beat. 

“You’re incredible,” he whispered, and then he kissed you. 

—

Two new photos were on your desk the next morning. 

The first was Demos from the balcony yesterday evening, a profile capture of his smile from right before he kissed you. The second was a shot of the kiss, and numerous red hearts had been drawn in sharpie around the two of you. 

Your stomach fluttered at that second picture, recalling how it’d felt. His lips had been something else, cool from the cold air but warm after a second’s pressure, and so soft and sweet, besides. You caught yourself running your fingers over your lips just in memory. 

You hadn’t done more than that one kiss, though. Demos had teasingly kissed your hand and asked if he could come see you sometime for personal reasons and you’d agreed, and then he’d gone home to rest. 

It seems someone in the studio had snapped a couple sneaky pictures while the two of you had been occupied, and you had a pretty good guess who it was. Regardless, you weren’t ashamed or embarrassed. If anything, you were happier than you’d ever been — and given how happy this job made you, that was saying something. 

You already couldn’t wait to see Demos again and — hopefully — reinforce this growing romance between you. 

But first, you thought, you wanted to thank the photographer for this incredible photo. 

It was going in your album immediately. 

[nikniknikin]

E rated wip I've had for ages.

Scarian choking smut fic I keep telling myself I'm going to finish but I legit started this as my FIRST forray into the fandom a whole ass year ago. This is DONE ENOUGH and the rest of the ideas I had arent coming out. If I ever get the energy to come back to this I want to elaborate on the jump and the fight.

TW: Frottage, choking, under negotiated kink, canon typical violence death and suicide.

The desert nights are cold, and while dead bodies don’t produce heat, whatever arcane trickery keeps Scar animated burns white hot somewhere in his bones. It’s odd, he knows the wind coming through the arrowslits is frigid, his skin can still feel that, but his red heart keeps his core feeling warm as a bonfire. Grian on the other hand is shivering on the adjacent bed. His clipped wings are puffed up and tucked around his torso and Scar can hear his teeth chattering. He gazes at the perfectly oval shaped silhouette that his partner makes against the moonlight coming in through the window. The lump shivers. Macaws were a tropical species right? The thin woolen blanket must not be cutting it for the poor bird. Well he can’t let that go on now can he, especially not when he’s uncomfortably warm. He speaks in a raspy stage whisper, voicing a question he very well knows the answer to. 

“Psst- you still awake?” 

He hears a put upon sigh then the lump shifts. 

“Yes.” 

“Cause you’re cold?”

“Freezing actually.”

“Here, take my blanket, I don’t need it.” Scar sits up and tosses his blanket over Grian, who immediately flaps a wing and flails an arm to jostle it off of him and back to Scar’s side of the doubled up beds.

“Wha- no. You’re cold too, surely?”

“Y’see that’s the thing G, since I went red I feel like a furnace. Whatever’s in here keeping me kicking,” he pats a fist to his bare gray chest, “it’s giving off plenty of heat in the process.” 

“Really?” Grian reaches out a hand without thinking, but stops just short of touching Scar’s shoulder as his mind catches up with his curiosity. He tries to mask the hover-handing as just reaching over for the blanket, but Scar’s eyes glint with keen recognition, and he doesn’t let Grian just brush the gesture off. 

“Really,” he confirms, “here, touch my muscles, go ahead.” Grian sighs and rolls his eyes, but when Scar takes him by the wrists and pulls his hands towards his collarbone he doesn’t resist the motion.He makes a halfhearted grumble of protest, a quiet but fond you ridiculous man under his breath. Despite that he doesn’t pull away. The warmth coming off him really is welcome and frankly a little fascinating. He may have his fingerprints on the scaffolding of this universe, but that doesn’t mean that here from inside it he knows everything about their revivals. Corpses are supposed to be cold, but Scar feels feverish. With his new gray complexion it reminds him of putting his hands on sun warmed smooth stone, but soft. Scar twitches at his touch, a high pitched ooh coming along with it. 

“You weren’t kidding. Your fingers are like icicles.”

Grian smirks at the noise, moving his cold hands up to either side of Scar’s incredibly warm neck. This gets a full squeak out of him, Grian giving a satisfied hum in response.

“Hey you asked for this, no take backs.” 

“I did, I did. You did so good today, you deserve to stick your little popsicle hands anywhere you want.” 

Grian snickers, but before he has a chance to respond, Scar tilts his head, covering his fingers with his cheek. The other Scar puts a hand over, encasing both of Grian’s hands with warmth from all sides. He lets out a long, fully involuntary sigh of relief and feels his shoulders and wings relax as his shivers finally subside. He grapples with his pride for one moment longer, but ultimately shifts closer and cuddles up to Scar’s chest. His head slots neatly beneath Scar’s chin. When Scar talks Grian feels the movement against his hair, and feels the reverberations from his throat.

“Seriously Grian, that triple you got woke me up in a way.”

“Good to know you’ve been sleeping on the job.”

“No, I mean that I get it now. Red life stuff. Hearing you cackling at the explosion made me want to kill.” 

That prompts a breathy little laugh from Grian followed by a half exasperated finally. 

“I do Grian really, I want to kill.” “Good.”

It becomes a whispered mantra, Scar reverently repeating I want to kill against the shell of his ear, the curve of his jaw, the column of his neck, just over his lips. Grian smiles and whispers back yes, yes, yes, each time, like praising a dog that’s finally mastered a challenging trick. His tone is giddy and gleeful, and his smile is bright and sharp right up until the moment that Scar’s hands wrap around his neck and squeeze. 

“Grian, I want to kill. I want to kill. I want to kill.” 

“Yes, good, yes, ye-ghhk.”

The word catches in his throat as Scar’s grip tightens and Grian’s face goes slack with shock. His open mouth flaps, once, twice, and again as his brain tries to process what’s happening. Confusion finally blooms into panic as his pulse thunders in his ears and his hands fly up to claw at Scar’s wrists. To his surprise they come away easily, and in an instant he has Scar’s wrists pinned to the wall behind his head. His red eyes are suddenly full of remorse and even something bordering on fear.

“Sorry, sorry. I’m not sure what that was. It just, it’s just like pushing Ren off that cliff. I didn’t think it’d work, it was just too tempting not to. It feels so good to tease.”

Grian draws in a shaky breath as he feels a cold draft hit the back of his neck. Scar was just fooling around, like he did with everything. He wasn’t ever a real threat. Besides, even if he was wouldn’t it be fair? He’d pledged his green life to Scar, but if he wanted to waste that gift then that was his right after all. He doesn’t want to go yellow, but he’s not backing out of his vow. This life was Scar’s to do with as he wished. Something about the comparison to Ren rattles around in his head. Scar was right, they’d all agreed to this. Immortals playing at feeling real deaths. They all wanted to know how mortality really tasted. He releases his hold on Scar’s wrists and hunkers down beneath the blanket again, tucking his frame against Scar’s once again to hide from the chill night around them.

“Tease all you want but remember, if I go yellow I’m gone.” 

“No, no, no I don’t want that. I need you here with me.” 

Scar’s arms circle around him and rub his back. His tone is gentle and almost pleading. Grian tries to relax in his hold, but the shot of adrenaline he’d gotten from being choked has other plans. It’s late, in the morning he has more work to do on the creeper farm, and he needs his rest, but his mind is buzzing and his blood is pumping, and Scar is so close and so warm and being so frustratingly tender. Grian is disappointed in his body but not surprised to find he’s hard as a rock. He tangles their legs together, unsubtly pressing himself against Scar’s thigh.

“I said tease all you want, and I meant it.”

“Oh? Oh! Oh-kay.” 

It takes Scar a beat to understand, but once he does he smirks and rolls them so that Grian is straddling him. His hands trace down to the waist of his pants making quick work of Grian’s fly and then his own. He tugs at their pants, dislodging them just enough to get their cocks free, careful of how much skin he’s exposing to the night air. To Grian’s delight he’s not the only one riled up by what just happened, and they both gasp in relief at finally getting some much needed skin to skin friction. Scar guides Grian’s hand down to circle the two of them, then brings his own hands back up to toy with the red neckline he suddenly can’t keep his eyes off of.  

“You set the pace down there, alright? And tap out if you start seeing dots or stars or anything, got it?” 

Grian nods eagerly and starts stroking lazily, once again relishing the extra heat coming from Scar’s skin. His eyelids flutter when Scar’s hands start squeezing his neck again. Before it was a sudden vice grip, but this time it’s a caress that slowly builds in force. He feels Scar’s cock twitch in his hand when he swallows reflexively at the increasing pressure, then soon enough he can’t swallow at all. He would be worried about starting to drool, but he’s locked eyes with Scar now and his partner is giving him a look. A smile so hungry and adoring that it’s hard to focus on anything other than the twinkle in his ruby red eyes and the heat pooling low in his guts. His hand speeds up but it’s not nearly enough. His lungs begin to burn, the muscles in his chest flex, trying in vain to pull in air, but Scar’s hands hold him firm. He grinds his hips down and uses his free hand to make sure they’re perfectly lined up, chasing the heat and sensation he’s desperate for. Scar’s chest rises and falls with long slow breaths that make Grian pang with envy. Each second drags out between them.

Eventually Scar’s breath starts coming heavier, something wild and deliciously brutal blooming behind his eyes. Grian ruts against him harder, faster, but it’s still not enough. He wants to come. He needs to breathe. He feels so good. He feels like he’s dying. His eyes start to roll back and everything gets shaky and blurry. He’s not blacking out, he’s just convulsing with need and want and need and want. He tries to swallow again, but all that happens is a little gurgle, and Scar groans at that. Low and long and indulgent, and Grian throbs in his own hand at the sound. He’s grateful that he’s unable to whimper the way he knows he would if any sound could escape his constricted throat. Head swimming, muscles rigid, cock leaking, he’s on the verge of tapping out when Scar releases his neck. He drinks down the chilly night air greedily and as that first gulp hits his oxygen deprived brain he comes hard enough to make his toes curl. 

Scar’s hands, still cradling his neck, slide up to cup the back of his head and pull him down into a long kiss. Grian is still too shell shocked from being choked and his subsequent orgasm to do much more than gape his mouth dumbly and heave deep breaths through his nose as Scar licks into him deep and hungrily. Eventually he gains enough composure to start kissing back, and it’s only then he realizes he’s tasting something bitter and pungent and familiar. He pulls back, sitting up and looking down at Scar quizzically. There’s a smear of pearly cum on his chin and across his lips. Grian giggles, impressed and incredulous. 

“Oh wow. I hit your face? I’ve never shot so far.” 

Scar takes one hand off of him to wipe at what remains on his face and licks himself clean, smile all smugness and satisfaction. 

“Do I win a prize?”

Grian wants to hate it, but watching that tongue glide along his fingers is making his stomach flip. The heat meets the brick wall of his refractory period though, so rather than a needy whine in response he manages a content sigh. 

“Mmmm, other than the treat you just cleaned up? Gimmie a moment to think of something- my head's still a bit fuzzy. Unless…you had something in mind already?”

-grian lazily smooches 

-blowjob

-pillow talk

“But you don’t need to be adorable, you need to be bloodthirsty. Today went well but you’ve got to start taking the lead on the killing. I’m pushing the rules as it is.” 

Scar nuzzles against him, “I think I can be both. Adorbs- Abdor- Adorabloodthirsty. Got a nice ring to it, as long as I can get my dyslexia around it, right?”

“Fine. Adorabloodthirsty, but heavy on the latter half, okay?” 

“I will be so thirsty for you Grian, just you wait.”

“Scar!”

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

“Let’s let the ghosts count us in.”

On three hearts Scar turns and flees the cactus ring, but he doesn’t get far. Clumsy from taking so many hits to the head he stumbles, and that’s all it takes for Grian to catch up and tackle him to the ground. They grapple momentarily on soot stained sand and land in a sickeningly familiar pose. Grian straddles him, but this time it’s his own hands doing the choking. Scar is smiling, would be laughing even, if he could take in any air. 

Choking him would be too slow. He’d withstood easily a minute or two during their recreational strangling and he knows he can’t look down at that bloodied smile for so long. He can’t bear it, so he pulls up, raises Scar’s head up an inch or two, then slams it back down on the sandstone beneath them. There’s a wet thud, and Scar’s smile breaks, shattering into an instinctive grimace. Grian does it again, and again, and again. He sobs dryly, each crack of Scar’s skull followed by a ruthless and empty I’m sorry. He does it until the grimace goes slack and Scar’s eyes go glassy. Then he’s alone on monopoly mountain. Alone save for the howling ghosts congratulating and condemning him in equal measure. He thinks Scar might be in that ethereal crowd too now. He should be right? Just another soul bound up in this game? But there’s no cheery baritone congratulating him from beyond the grave. The watchers are still hungry, and he has the makings of one last meal in him. 

He stands, shaky on his feet, and trudges towards the cliff. He looks out over the crater, his greatest failed trap of all. Nonetheless, pride blooms in his queasy stomach, and if he was sticking around he’d be worried about the bile rising in his throat. As it is there’s no time for that because keeps his wings tucked firmly to his sides as he leaps into a freefall.

[thefanficmonster]

You Never Notice

Sykkuno x Reader (Female)

Warnings: None

Genre: Fluff

Summary: The center of someone’s world is never aware of their importance even when everyone else is in the know. People are hard to understand, no denying, but if we all spilled our truth like how Y/N admitted her feelings to Sykkuno, mutual understanding would be achieved a lot more easily. JK, she needed an eternity and maybe a thousand pushes. What’s important is the result though, right?

Requested by Anon. You are my first Sykkuno request and I wish I could thank you with a tag. Instead, I’m gonna thank you with a fic in which I put my all. Thank you for the request, hope the final product doesn’t let you down. 🥰

Here we go again. Sykkuno’s love life is brought up. This time it’s more frustrating cause I can’t shout how wrong he is about himself and the effect he has on the people around him. He has no room to speak, he hasn’t experienced what I have - one of your best friends living in your head rent-free because you’re just that whipped by them. That’s right kids, some of us never grow past the middle school crushes - they are a constant for some. That can be a good or a bad thing, it completely depends on how you view it.

Currently, him and Rae are addressing some dating rumors that started spreading about them earlier this week while Felix, Sean and I are kicking each other’s butts in Party Animals. We’re not all playing together, actually, we were all playing different games when we hopped into the call and just grouped together after playing solo got boring. Rae and Sykkuno are playing Among Us on a random server, her being the only person who’s streaming right now. She said she just wanted to clear up the dating rumors cause they were annoying to see popping up on her feed on every social media platform she’s active on.

“It’s ridiculous, really. People just look for online personalities to put in imaginary relationships. Are they that bored? I know quarantine is getting to everyone, but damn“ Rae says, laughing a bit to take the edge off her words but I know she’s bothered by this ordeal more than she’s letting on. I know how much it bothers her when people ship random youtubers and streamers together, even when she’s not involved. 

And I agree. Ever since I started streaming I’ve been shipped with my friends left and right. First Corpse, then Dave, Joel...you name them. It gets kinda gross cause these people are legit like siblings to me. Unlike Rae, though, I don’t waste my breath trying to clear those ‘talks of the net’ up. I don’t know if it’s for better of for worse that I remain silent on the issue when I’m involved but am willing to stand up for my friends when they find themselves in a similar situation. Some people think the reason I don’t share my thoughts is because the rumors are true, but the hint is most often taken, resulting in the ship ending. Well, that ship ending, there’s always a new one popping up. As Rae said, it’s ridiculous.

“Why does everyone think I am ever dating anyone? I’ve already commented on this: no one would date me.“ Sykkuno says through a sigh-like laugh.

“Why are you so sure?“ I blurt out without as much as a second thought

My eyes widen just a bit, just a bit. I’m not too surprised with myself. I am slowly losing control of my raging emotions and I’m afraid of what I’ll turn into when all my restraints snap. A mess, that’s the most likely answer.

“Well....“ Sykkuno trails off, clearly more than a little nervous, “I don’t have a girlfriend right now, and I haven’t had one in a while...Nor has a girl shown any interest to be more than friends with me in what feels like forever.“

“I’m sure you just don’t notice the hints girls drop. We can be pretty subtle.“ I try to sound as nonchalant as possible while I’m still in my panicked animal mode. And by animal I mean a cub. A scared cub that is now showing confidence but will run and hide right afterwards. I silently thank the universe that I’m not streaming right now. I can feel the heat on my neck and cheeks which is pure embarrassment and would have been more than evident on-camera.

“Yeah Y/N’s right, Sykkuno. Girls can be very subtle, but they will always let you know if they like you, even through the smallest of gestures. You gotta keep your eyes open.“ Rae backs me up reassuringly.

“Guys never notice anything.“ I say, rolling my eyes. I feel the pressure lessen thanks to Rae’s involvement in the conversation.

“That’s not true.“ Sean protests, “We pay close attention, especially to girls we are attracted to.“

“Yeah!“ Sykkuno pipes in again, “I’m pretty sure I would notice if a girl was dropping signals that she likes me.“

Now that stings. That legit makes me wince and cringe as though his voice delivered an actual physical hit to my chest and stomach. It’s really unpleasant, painful even.

“You never notice.“ There’s something about this triple opportunity - proving him wrong that he’d catch onto a girl’s signals; proving him wrong that girls aren’t attracted to him; coming clean about the biggest emotional struggle I’ve experienced in recent years; - that snaps my last emotional restraints. I will totally regret this later, but after the regret comes the relief which is 100% worth it. 

“What?“ He sounds very puzzled. I can just about imagine him frowning as he tries to wrap his brain around something even I can’t wrap mine around.

“You say you’d notice a girl’s hints of attraction. OK.“ I nonchalantly throw Felix off the submarine in Party Animals while I keep talking, “Would you notice if a girl purposely doesn’t kill you in Among Us when she’s impostor? Or would you notice that a girl always sends you links to videos she finds funny? Or that she always shares music and movie recommendations with you and you only?“ 

Dead silence ensues. I feel like they have all glitched, considering Sean didn’t even try to put up a fight when I lifted him and threw him in the ocean as I previously did with Felix’s avatar.

Maybe I was a tad too specific and made the whole situation hit a little too close to home for me. 

Sykkuno and I have become really close friends and we chat and play games regularly. As I mentioned, I give him movie and music recommendations and I only recently started acknowledging the fact that I’ve never killed him in Among Us. Natural instinct I guess. In fact, I feel the need for vengeance when he’s killed. I refuse to even vote for him unless it’s absolutely necessary.

Now that I think about it, it’s not his fault he has no clue. I just don’t know how to properly drop hints.  

“Um...I mean, I guess I would notice but I’d never think they are that type of hints.“ He finally replies.

On point there, dear. On damn point.

“What does it take for you to be convinced that a girl is into you?“ Who cares that a bunch of people are about to witness this outpour? It’ll make it more real, yes, but it will also help me believe that it happened so I don’t try to crawl back to the point where return is an option. No return now. You’ve already passed two thirds of the way. The last one will set you and your mind free. 

“The only way I can be sure is if she tells me, really.“ He sounds so nervous and shy, like he’s trying to draw as little attention as possible.

He doesn’t have to worry. I’m about to pull all the attention on me.

“Well in that case....you leave me no other choice.“ My screen displays me as the winner of this round of Party Animals - an easy one considering my friends are glitched in real life. “I like you, Sykkuno. I like you a lot. And I know you will see it from every context except the one its meant to be in so I’ll be even more head-on - I’ve liked you, as more than a friend for quite some time now, but buddy, you can be sooo oblivious sometimes. Anyway...“ Here’s that regret I was talking about, it’s already creeping in. “Don’t feel the need to say it back. I don’t wanna hear it if you don’t mean it. And Rae,“ I can’t help but laugh at the thought, “Sorry for making your chat go crazy. Peace!“

And I disconnect from the Discord call.

“See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?“ I say out loud, staring at my desktop. “The cat’s out of the bag and you can move on now.“

I push myself to get some work done in order to get my mind off the mess I’ve created. I’m afraid of thinking about it, I know I’ll get too upset to do anything with the rest of my day if I do.

Suddenly, just as I’m about to open my email, my phone chimes. My brain doesn’t bother to stop my arm from automatically reaching out and checking the notification. A message.

From Sykkuno.

~ I knew you didn’t suggest me ‘My Best Friend’s Wedding’ for no reason

Me ~ So...?

~ So, I’m not the only oblivious one here, Y/N

Me ~ Wait WHAT?

~ ‘Nick And Norah’s Infinite Playlist’?

Me ~ Oooohhhh...I see

It takes him a few seconds to reply, the bubble with the three bouncing dots popping up and disappearing a few times now. I just now feel my heart banging against the inside of my ribcage, my pulse echoing in my ears.

He did seem a little too eager for me to watch that movie...

~ So, movie date?

I laugh, wholeheartedly and honestly. Genuine joy running through my veins.

Me ~ So it is.

The grin that is now decorating my features promises to stay there for the rest of the day. I bite my bottom lip at the thought that pops into my head.

Me ~ Phew, I can stop sparing you in Among Us from now on

He sends me three cry-laughing emojis in return, but I don’t need those. I can just imagine him laughing as he usually does with one hand covering his mouth. And here I thought my grin couldn’t grow wider.

 Imagining him happy makes me smile. His happiness makes me happy. He makes me happy.

Even better...

I think the feeling’s mutual.

[clumsyclifford]

ok hello i absolutely love all ur fics, you’ve just got a certain quality in ur writing that is just… mmm. yeah so anyway, do you have any advice on how to improve or just how to write?? (especially fic cause personally i struggle with that more than original stuff??)

hello!! that is very kind of you to say thank you <3

advice on how to write. oh boy. oh man. well i can try. i will do my best. i will also try to be brief but we all know how that song goes

update from having finished answering this: alright. okay. this is not only long, but decidedly english teacher-y. i’m sorry that i am the way that i am. this is what you get for asking a leo for writing advice. am i joking? maybe. maybe not. anyway. this post got away from me in a big way so here’s a read more. warning: LONG post under the cut.

1. study your characters. for RPF like the band stuff i write, that literally means watching interviews, watching them perform, seeing how they interact with each other, picking up on their mannerisms (behavior) - what they do with their hands, if they repeat themselves or stutter when they talk, the quality of their voice when they're talking about different things, and so on. also keep track of things they mention a lot in interviews especially about each other - for example jack has mentioned before that alex has an annoying habit of twirling his hair when he zones out. that kind of thing. IMPORTANT NOTE!: you don’t have to use all of this information. just like studying for anything, you collect all the information you can and then you parse through it and use whatever you think will contribute or be relevant to your story.

2. remember that characters are people. or at least they’re representing people, which is an important distinction (see #3). still, considering that your characters are people can be a helpful way to get out of your head. see, characters are supposed to be archetypical, and fulfill a role, and say certain things in certain ways and never really deviate from that. but people are highly unpredictable and behave in random ways for random reasons and have thought processes that are unfathomable. people will just do fuckin’ whatever. if you’re worried that your characters aren’t behaving in a believable way, keep in mind that you’re trying to make your characters represent people, and people’s behavior is justifiable any number of ways. people just do shit.

3. remember that characters are not people. sike! no but seriously, this is just as important to remember. unfortunately, no matter how hard you try, characters are never going to be people. that’s a good thing for stories, though. characters can pick up on nuance in senses that people can’t - they can distinguish between different facial expressions, different smells, different sounds - BUT ONLY INSOFAR AS IT MOVES THE STORY ALONG. in other ways, characters are ridiculously oblivious. you can use this to your advantage. in fact, a lot of the time, you have to. if your character notices right away that someone is flirting with him, then you can’t write a 30k slow burn, for example. characters don’t do that thing humans do where they go “what?” but then halfway through the re-explanation they register what’s been said. pretty much everything characters say has meaning. (by this i don’t mean semantic meaning, i mean significance - characters don’t really just say “what?” because they didn’t hear what someone said, they say “what?” because they can’t believe it or they don’t understand it or they refuse to understand it. characters never seem to run into the didn’t-hear-them problem. must be nice.)

characters can do whatever you want or need them to do, because you’re in charge of them. (sometimes this doesn’t feel true - mine do all kinds of shit and i just have go “well alright then” - but it is true.) they are gears in a story. you decide when and how they turn.

4. dialogue is your friend. i am super super biased here, because i looove writing dialogue. if you talk to sam about this i’m sure she would say that description and narration are the ways to go. but you came to me, so i get to say that dialogue is god. i don’t want to say that dialogue is the only method of communication (i know nonverbal communication is real), but dialogue is the fastest and most effective method of communication, and by extension, the most effective way to advance relationships between characters. now. obviously there are exceptions. if characters are kissing, they’re probably not doing a lot of talking. if they’re trying to be undercover or discreet, they’re more likely to rely on gestures and facial expressions than speaking. if you’re writing a very peaceful scene, you might not want to undercut it by adding a lot of chit-chat. but i maintain that dialogue is the best way to move a story along, for a few reasons. 

first, at least for me, too much description is just tiring. depending on how skillful the writer is (sam), i can read a fair amount before i hit my limit, but unlike in mean girls, the limit DOES exist. you don’t want to over-describe the world (see #5). second, i find that dialogue is a really really good indicator of a person’s character. this is especially true and relevant in fanfiction, which is a lot more character-driven than original fiction in many ways. also, in a sec i’m gonna talk about showing [not/and] telling, which is every english teacher’s bitch, but dialogue is a really good way of showing who a person is and also a good way to establish facts about the universe. you could just narrate and be like “Jack hated waking up early,” and that works and in many cases it’s perfectly legit. but you could also do something like this:

“What the fuck,” Jack mumbled, still half asleep. “You better have a really fucking good reason to be waking me up this early. Like someone better have fucking died.”

and sometimes that’s just a more fun way to say it. (for the record you can also show AND tell here! there’s no reason why you can’t have this line of dialogue and then a line in the narration confirming how very much jack is not a morning person!)

the last reason why i am particularly fond of dialogue is because i am also particularly fond of communication, which is a preference thing. let’s face it, guys: characters aren’t gonna communicate if they’re not literally actually talking to each other. dialogue means talking to each other. talking to each other means solving problems, fixing (or creating) conflicts, understanding each other better. i love communication, ergo, i love dialogue. And You Should Too. 

5. describe the world, but don’t over-describe. i opened this fic earlier and it was like “jack was excited to wake up to go to his first class at the university of baltimore” and i just. i was like is this really relevant. do i really need to know this. and i never found out because i closed the fic but in my defense it was on wattpad and i had only opened it out of curiosity. look. there are three ways to use details in fic. (a) introduce them right away (b) introduce them when they become relevant or (c) don’t introduce them at all. let me give you some examples. 

(a) say your character A (i’m using jack because i’m used to him) wakes up. he’s in his room in his house off-campus. character B (rian) walks into the room. this might be a good time to explain that rian is his housemate. to that point: “show not tell” is a good rule, but sometimes “show and tell” is just as good. e.g.: 

Rian walks in, holding Jack’s Green Day shirt and looking irritated. That’s really nothing new; Rian looks irritated at Jack roughly once a day. Being housemates for a year will do that to a friendship.

boom, now you’ve let everyone know they live together without throwing it in their face, and you’ve also told everyone that these two guys are friends and have been friends for at least a year but probably longer. you showed it by having rian walking in holding jack’s shirt - usual housemate behavior - but you also told it in a subtle way that established the relationship and some kind of history between these two. well done.

(b) sometimes you want a certain detail to make an impact. this is the kind of thing you hold onto and don’t specify, and in certain cases you leave the reader wondering, “well what about x?” and then when you finally explain x they go ohhhhhhhhhh. yknow. the italicized oh. consider the following:

(A)

“Alex is in my bio class,” Rian says, referring to Jack’s ex-boyfriend of last year.

Jack frowns. “So? Why should I care?”

“He’s my lab partner,” Rian says. “I have to spend a lot of time with him.”

“I don’t care what you and Alex do,” Jack says. “But you should know he sucks at bio.”

Rian gives Jack a look. “First of all, that’s not true, he’s incredibly smart. And second, I’m telling you as a courtesy, because I thought you might not want your ex-boyfriend hanging around our house after he broke your fucking heart.”

(B)

“Alex is in my bio class,” Rian says.

Jack frowns. “So? Why should I care?”

“He’s my lab partner,” Rian says. “I have to spend a lot of time with him.”

“I don’t care what you and Alex do,” Jack says. “But you should know he sucks at bio.”

Rian gives Jack a look. “First of all, that’s not true, he’s incredibly smart. And second, I’m telling you as a courtesy, because I thought you might not want your ex-boyfriend hanging around our house after he broke your fucking heart.”

the only difference between these two excerpts (which i just wrote lol they’re not from anything real) is that the second one doesn’t explain who alex is right away. that makes it way more interesting when rian reveals who alex is a few lines later. magic.

(c) take this college au that we’ve established here. where does it take place, you ask? easy answer: it doesn’t matter. you don’t need to say what school they’re at. this will make your job easier, because then no one can fact check you, and it also means you don’t have to decide what school they’re at. but even if you do decide, it’s not usually necessary to say. believe me, you can go thousands of words without ever needing to specify what school they’re at. you know why? because it doesn’t matter. and no one cares. and as soon as you specify in canon that they’re at a particular school, you are bound to be accurate to everything that school does, and that makes your job way more difficult than it needs to be. as hazel once said, work smarter, not harder. 

6. adverbs are also your friend. (yknow, words that describe verbs, typically ending in -ly, like “loudly” or “angrily” or “smoothly”.) ESPECIALLY when it comes to dialogue tags. (dialogue tags are the things you add to dialogue to say who’s talking and how they’re talking - like “he said” or “he whispered” or “he earnestly explained” or whatever). a lot of the writing advice you’ll see nowadays will usually guide you away from overusing dialogue tags other than the classic “says/said” and i STRONGLY concur with that advice. things like yelled, cried, mumbled, snapped - these are very good in moderation, when you’re really trying to emphasize the way a person is speaking. the more you use them, the less impact they have. in most cases, a simple “he said [adverb]” will do. instead of “he snapped” consider “he said curtly/sharply/coldly.” instead of “he mumbled” consider “he said quietly/clumsily/softly.” I WANT TO MAKE IT CLEAR THAT THESE ARE NOT DIRECT SYNONYMS. every word has a nuanced and slightly different meaning and that is the BEAUTY of the english language!!!! all i’m saying is that in many cases, a verb can be replaced with an adverb to achieve roughly the same effect, without making the reader feel like they’re scanning a thesaurus.

and speaking of a thesaurus: it’s not cheating to use outside resources like thesaurus.com to help you come up with words. i fuckin love thesaurus.com. i use that shit all the time for everything. i use it when i’m writing emails. i used it just now to write that last paragraph. thesaurus.com is your BEST friend.

7. grammar. (and spelling but that’s really a given.) unfortunately if i tried to teach you all of the essential rules of grammar this post would exceed tumblr’s previously-nonexistent word count limit. so i’m not gonna teach you any of them. this is just a general point to suggest that if/when you’re writing, have someone you trust, with a good grasp of grammar, look over it. of course it doesn’t have to be perfect or AP style or anything like that. readers will overlook a certain amount of grammar mistakes and every reader has a different threshold. but in general, as a grammar geek and former journalism editor-in-chief, i have a duty to my grammurai code to preach the importance of grammar in writing. good grammar does not necessarily mean good writing and vice versa, bad grammar does not necessarily mean bad writing, but bad grammar makes good writing a lot harder to read, and in some cases will even obscure your actual meaning. so please, have someone read it. for the record this is me offering up my services. i am very good at fixing grammar. i have lots of weaknesses in writing but grammar is one of my strengths. please prioritize grammar. thank you for coming to my ted talk.

***

okay so now that i’ve said all of this shit and pretended to be an expert and embodied everyone’s tenth grade english teacher, let me add one very important disclaimer:

none of this is always relevant.* writing is an art, not a science. you are never going to be following all of the rules, all of the time. you shouldn’t. it’s good to know the basics of constructing a plot, establishing a character, showing and/not telling, moving the story along. but a lot of this advice is really subjective and heavily influenced by my writing experience and habits and tendencies and preferences, and those are simply not generalizable to the world. i am a sample size of one and science dictates that that means my results cannot be statistically significant. i am just some guy. earlier i said you don’t want to over-describe the world. but maybe you do! maybe you’re really into worldbuilding and you want people to know what they’re getting into. maybe you’re like sam, and you just don’t feel as confident in your dialogue skills but you love painting word pictures. i said that adverbs are your friend, but maybe you just prefer to use verbs. maybe you don’t want ANY dialogue tags and you want the reader to interpret the dialogue based on context and content. i said that characters aren’t people and they won’t behave like people, but maybe you’re trying to write hyper-realistic characters. maybe you’re just going for believability over narrative. WHATEVER. the point is, rules are made to be broken. no one is going to have The Answer for How To Write Good because there isn’t just one answer. every single writing rule has exceptions and you can be that exception as many times as you want.

*except grammar. grammar is fucking always relevant.

i hope any of this advice was helpful to you, even though i english teacher-ed the fuck out of it. and for what it’s worth, i approached this as if you were a relatively novice writer, but i know absolutely jack shit about your writing prowess and experience and habits. so maybe you already know all of this and none of what i’ve said is helpful at all. if you have a more specific problem, i would be happy to try and help. if you’re hoping for more specific feedback, i’d have to read something of yours first - but again, happy to try and help. i don’t know if you can tell but i loooove writing and english and grammar and all of this shit and it would be my honor. i have now spoken so long that james madison himself is begging me to shut up so i’ll stop here but thank you for coming by and giving me the opportunity to expatiate a shit ton. and GOOD LUCK i forgot the most important advice of writing which is HAVE FUN LOVE WHAT YOU WRITE AND WRITE WHAT YOU LOVE OKAY BYE

[ackerfics]

Hiiii is it okay to request something? I just really love your fics 🥺 I saw that you did song fics, so I was thinking Still Into You by Paramore mixed with Thinking of You by Katy Perry since I legit couldn’t get those out of my head. Also I’m having Mikasa brainrot rn, so maybe a fic about exes getting back together? Where reader is like already in a new relationship with Historia, but they still love Mikasa, and the pining is mutual. Thank you so much 🥺

we sang along to the start of forever  — mikasa ackerman

— mikasa ackerman x female reader (modern au)

— warnings: angst but it transitioned into fluff in the end so we’re fine :)))

— summary: you still love each other and like puzzle pieces, the two of you thought about trying out the relationship thing again.

— word count: 4.8k

— author’s notes: i’m so sorry this took so long, we have so many backlogs  but i thought that writing would be a great thing to unwind so here it is !! i also made the reader a girl because as soon i started writing, mikasa with a girlfriend just keeps popping in my brain and i can’t help it sjjkjksjs and thank you so much for requesting !!

reblogs are greatly appreciated !!

< you said move on, where do i go

“Hey, there you are.”

A melodic whisper got you out of your daze from looking at your laptop screen. Exams are around the corner and your professors thought that it was the perfect time to dump more work for you. Tomorrow, you have a deadline coming up for a 2k-word essay about a topic that you could care less about, it wasn’t even under your major. Yet here you are, in one of the study areas of your university, trying to squeeze your brain just so you could reach the word count without caring for the outcome of your essay. But it seems like the gods graced your prayers because a small figure with golden blonde hair appeared in front of you, her blue eyes shining under the lights of the study area.

You started dating Historia Reiss not too long ago, it was probably ranging for three months at most. It was quite rocky at first, with you being out of a long-term relationship and Historia balancing out her time between extracurriculars and academics. The long-term relationship that got you all wound up was with a close friend back in high school and it sucked because you were such a good pair together — maybe fate wasn’t by your side that time. The two of you were immature and young but your time together was golden, having known each other way before asking one another out. You promised each other you’d move on and clearly, you did, your eyes finding your current girlfriend sitting in the neighboring study desk, taking out her stationery and color-coordinated notes.

Historia was a sweet person, always patient and caring when it comes to you. You met during a lecture that you two happened to share. She forgot her Apple pencil and luckily, you still had yours in your bag, lending the gadget to the blonde since you already have your laptop perched in front of you. With small smiles, the two of you gradually became friends, sitting next to each other during that lecture. Those small moments grew and later became study meet-ups in cafés or hanging out in one of the university’s libraries. The best thing that connected you two was your personalities, it matched so well that people sometimes thought you knew each other way longer before college. When you noticed Historia showing some signs that she likes you more than a friend, you couldn’t quite believe it at first. It was Historia being so understanding of you that made you say yes to her dates.

And now, here you are.

“Yup, you found me,” you told her, stretching your arms above your head before smiling at your girlfriend.

“Is that essay for Mr. Smith’s class?” Historia asked, leaning over to your side to get a glimpse of your screen. She patted your shoulder at the number of words you wrote. “Wow, you already got past the 1k mark. That’s amazing! Don’t forget to take breaks, though.”

“Of course, Tori,” you smiled. “You, too. I know your exams start four days from now. How is that holding up?”

Historia opened her readings, sighing at the thought of the dreaded season of the student body. “I don’t know if I can answer anything that well. I mean, we’ve been having study dates every day but I get so nervous just thinking about the exams. I know I’m going to be prepared but my anxiety said ‘no’.” She buried her hands through her hair, eyes softening when your face started showing how worried you are for her. “I’ll just think that this will be over a week from now.” Historia reached a hand out to tuck a stray lock of hair behind your ear. “Hey, why don’t we go to that restaurant just outside of uni for dinner?”

You took her hand in yours, squeezing it affectionately. “I think that’s perfect.”

The two of you proceeded to work on your separate tasks until you both agreed that it’s time for a good dinner. Historia helped you tidy your things up, occasionally smiling softly at you when you yawn. You bid goodbye to some of the students in the study area you know and the two of you went out of the room with joined hands. It was a nice walk around the university, the golden glow of the Sun bathing everything in orange, and making you relax despite the many backlogs still on your to-do list. That was until you saw a familiar figure going out of one of the many buildings of the Business Department. The blonde beside you even recognized the young woman hiding her face behind her scarf, blue eyes darting to you with a worried air.

It also happened that Mikasa Ackerman looked up from adjusting her scarf, her stormy gray eyes meeting with yours by chance.

Her eyes slightly widened at the sight of you, her gaze then dropping to your hands still joined with Historia’s before pursing her lips. Looking up to tangle your eyes again, she rose her hand in a little wave. You reciprocated the gesture weakly, never leaving your stare off her retreating form. You noticed that her shoulders became tense after that little encounter, fists enclosing the straps of her backpack and steps hurrying to get to her apartment that was just a walking distance from the university.

You felt a light squeeze coming from the girl beside you, knocking you out of your reverie.

“Let’s go?” Historia asked, eyes knowingly roaming your face.

“Mm-hmm,” you only hummed, following your girlfriend out of the campus.

You thought there wasn’t anything left but why were you still stuck in a limbo that you couldn’t get out of when you stared into those gray hues haunting your dreams?

< recount the night that i first met your mother

Mikasa had her life figured out. 

Everything was perfect. She has the most amazing people she can call her friends. She has the most supportive parents (and brother, but he can be a little shit sometimes but that’s beside the point). She has the perfect grades that can maintain her standing in the university, earning her great credits from various professors on the campus. She has scored a good apartment with her best friend, Sasha, all equipped with the best rooms and views that she can pay for a reasonable price. She is still a member of the university’s track and field long-distance running team, a regular and a manager at the same time. She also had the most beautiful girl as her lover and confidante, someone she could be herself with (not that her closest friends and brother didn’t see her real personality but being with her lover was a different kind of bliss compared to hanging out with her friends).

Well, had a girlfriend.

Ever since meeting you again earlier that night, suddenly Mikasa’s schedule for the night seems to blur.

It was her turn to cook for dinner but she couldn’t do anything properly. First, she managed to burn her sauteed vegetables, something that she had never done before knowing that this is her favorite go-to dish. Second, she boiled the pasta too long and now they’re too soggy. She nearly threw the pot down the sink but she didn’t want their neighbors to call the cops to their place, she just didn’t want to have a repeat of the first time that happened. (The first time their neighbors called the cops because of them was all Sasha’s fault, it appeared to the brown-haired girl that Mikasa’s cooking is one of the best in the world that she screamed bloody murder in the middle of the night.) Now, the gray-eyed girl had no choice but to start from scratch with the pasta, it was a good thing it was only the pasta though. 

The front door of their apartment opened with a bang while Mikasa tried to concentrate this time. Without looking up, she can see a brown-headed blur dashing towards the kitchen. “Stop right there, Sasha,” she said while stirring the alfredo sauce in the pan. “If you reach for the chicken one more time, I’m going to skin you alive. I don’t have the energy to hold your hungry ass back right now.”

Sasha backed away at the look of her roommate who was ready to commit violence if she steps out of line. “Whoa, who pissed at your day?”

Mikasa blinked, realizing that she might have been unreasonable with her remark. Of course, she wasn’t the only tired one in their apartment right now. Sasha was also struggling with academics and extracurriculars, not to mention, her love life is perfectly stable despite being in a relationship for a year. Not that Mikasa felt slightly jealous but she did everything she could to save their relationship but it still ended on a consensual note. The black-haired girl relaxed her tense posture, sighing deeply to expel the negativity accumulating her mind at the moment (Sasha called them dark forces after Mikasa told her about it, it took everything not to leave the room when the words came out of her friend’s mouth). Turning back on her sauce, Mikasa stated, “I’m sorry, I’m just stressed. You know, with the exams coming up and my track team entering this meet at the end of the month for official records. It’s just,” she sighed, “too much right now.”

“Aw, Mikasa,” Sasha empathized, going around the countertop to wrap her arms around Mikasa. She placed her head against her friend’s, petting the latter’s hair until they became a mess on her head. “I know just the thing to make us feel better. Let’s watch some of those anime movies that Armin recommended while eating dinner. Or anything that you want to watch if you don’t feel like watching anime right now.”

Mikasa smiled a little, resting her head on top of Sasha’s and relishing the comfort her friend gave her. “Thanks, I appreciate it, Sash.”

The moment she shared with Sasha reminded her of when you two were in high school. At that time, Mikasa was one of the star athletes that belonged to the track team. After the rigorous training their coach gave them, Mikasa’s knee started to hurt. This was dismissed by the head coach, saying that this wasn’t serious at all. You witnessed it when she ran more laps than what was written in her training regime to the point that her knee gave out. It was a good thing that her knee only acquired a sprain and a good rest from physical activities for some time will heal it gradually. Mikasa never had anything against it because getting some time off from her club meant that she could spend her free time with you. It was spent staying on her family’s couch, watching movies to pass the time while making small talk about her friends. The reminiscing continued until Sasha helped her prepare the living room for their movie night. She just couldn’t help but associate every little thing with you. You were a great part of her life since middle school.

She missed everything about you.

While the movie played out, her mind went to a time when it was time to introduce Mikasa as your girlfriend to your mother.

It was in the first months of being first-years in university. There was an issued academic break set by the faculties, taking the time to invite Mikasa to your home. You were so excited that that’s all you can talk about while the gray-eyed girl drove you two to your hometown. That was the only thing enjoyable in the entire trip. Everything went into shit when you blurted out that Mikasa has been more than a friend to you ever since high school. The look on your mother’s face was enough for the two of you to tell that this shouldn’t go on as planned.

“So, you’re telling me that Mikasa has been in our home, doing God knows what to you since high school?” Your mother flatly questioned.

The coldness of her tone made you stiffen in your seat. You can see Mikasa from the corner of your eyes trying to calm herself down by rubbing your hand under the table. It couldn’t be helped that your father, the only understanding person in the family, was absent because of his job. This is why your father chose to live separately from your mom, seeing as she was the kind of authoritative parent and wife, always hovering around each of her family members to keep them in line. You now understand why your father left her because God forbid, it was tempting to cut off ties with the person who gave birth to you as she threw degrading words at Mikasa left and right. You furrowed your eyebrows, tightening your hold on your girlfriend’s hand, which was trembling on your lap. The first time you saw her this shaken was when her knee got injured during her track training. Her skin was so pale like that time that you wanted to pull her out of the house and stay at a nearby hotel to get away from your mother’s wrath.

“Mom, please,” you pleaded, tears prickling your eyes.

“No, [Name], don’t you say another word,” she pointedly snapped at you. “I feel like I have become a failure of a mother. I don’t understand why you have a woman as your lover. It’s just not right. I support it but not if it’s with my daughter.”

You abruptly stood up with half-lidded eyes that never strayed from your mother’s similar shaded ones. Your hand still gripped Mikasa’s, your thumb stroking the back of it in a soothing circle that contrasted the indifferent gaze you gave your mother. When you were a child, you understood her sentiments because you’re her only child, the only person left in her life. But when she started badmouthing the little things observed from other people, you started questioning her parenting. You were told that people who love others of the same sex were sinning the word of a divine being but if that’s the case, you’d gladly be condemned to the pits of Hell if it meant protecting Mikasa from your mother’s harsh words. “We’re leaving.”

“What—?” It was Mikasa.

“Come on, Mika. Let’s find some restaurant downtown. This place is becoming stuffy and I don’t want you to suffocate any further.”

“Hey, Mikasa? Are you alright?”

Mikasa jumped, looking around at their apartment’s living room as if she was confused as to why she was there. She slightly shook her head before turning to the concerned brown irises of her roommate. Trying for a convincing smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes, Mikasa forced a laugh as she mindlessly twirled the pasta on her plate with a wistful air surrounding her. “Yeah, I think I’m alright. Just saw my ex earlier when I got out of my last lecture for the day. I feel like that’s the reason why I don’t feel like myself today.”

The movie was then forgotten when Sasha positioned her body so that she could give Mikasa her undivided attention. With a serious expression that the gray-eyed young woman didn’t see in a long time, Sasha asked, “That gorgeous beauty?”

A nod was all Mikasa could answer. Gorgeous was an understatement when it comes to imagining you. You’re practically the most beautiful girl Mikasa saw in her lifetime. 

“Damn, it’s been what? Half a year since you guys broke up?”

A nod from Mikasa. She wrapped her arms around her knees, pushing them further into her chest, feeling so small at the moment. “It would have been fine if she’s alone but…”

Sasha’s mouth parted with realization; eyes wide as she stared at her roommate. “Oh,” she breathed. 

Scooting closer to the gray-eyed girl, Sasha wrapped an arm around her shoulder to let the former lean against her side. She always viewed the two of you to be endgame, seeing as you were dating since you were in high school. It sucks that no matter how much the two of you proved that you belong to one another, it just ends inevitably. Sasha even liked you when Mikasa introduced you to her new roommate when you were first-years. You were shining in the brown-eyed girl’s eyes; smile so bright that she couldn’t help but think you’re pretty, hair perfectly mussed by the wind during the ride to the apartment, casual clothing fitting you in the most pleasing way possible, and personality that one could describe as amazing. You even gave her some of your food when the three of you ate out together. (Mikasa always scolded you for giving away your food when you’re barely even eating regularly.) And when you guys broke up, Sasha saw how Mikasa ended up at the lowest point of her life, locking up inside her room and only going out when Sasha’s asleep. It was only recently that Mikasa slowly became herself again.

Now, Mikasa became that closed-off version of herself after the break-up, and Sasha instantly pulled her in for a hug.

The television kept playing the movie they chose to watch, Mikasa’s silent sobs blending with the movie’s dialogue and seeping through the night.

< she kissed my lips, i taste your mouth

You nearly pulled away when you tasted lemon instead of strawberry.

You nearly looked away when you saw azure instead of metallic gray after the kiss.

You felt so bad for thinking of midnight tresses instead of spun gold every time you lay in bed after hours of studying. Guilt bloomed in your whole torso like a giant wad of roses prickling your insides with their thorns, images of Mikasa plaguing your mind a week after you saw her again after six months. And every time you close your eyes to let sleep pull you in their embrace, arms so secure would wrap around your middle in your dreams, the smell of a rose-scented soap enveloping you in a warm cocoon. It was so contrasting to the minty scent you tried so hard to get used to in those three months you were together with Historia. You promised yourself you’d never date someone else after Mikasa but you tried because she told you to find someone who will treat you better than her. As much as you pleaded with your rationality to not follow her advice, Historia was a breath of fresh air.

It was a rainy night the time you and Mikasa broke up. Funny how you always love the rain and yet the one moment tormenting your daydreams occurred in a thunderstorm.

“Mikasa, what are you talking about?”

Your favorite-colored irises couldn’t meet your stare. “I said you deserve to be with someone who can make you glow with happiness.”

“Where is this coming from?”

She only shook her head, short black hair moving along with the movement. “I feel like I’m not giving enough in this relationship. I noticed how happier you look when you hang out with your friends from your department but when you’re with me, you’re mellowed down and so drained that I’m starting to feel like I’ve done something wrong.” Mikasa buried her hands in her hair, elbows placed on her knees, making herself feel smaller in front of you. You stood up from your bed to kneel in front of her, covering her cheeks tenderly with the palms of your hands. Yet she continued, “My mind is telling me these thoughts that I denied a long time ago since we started university.”

“What thoughts, Mika?”

“That our spark had died down for good.”

You searched her face for any sign of a joke but you could only stare at her downturned eyes.

“That I think we should break up for you to be happier with other people.”

“No,” you murmured, tears starting to blur your vision. “Mikasa.”

“I love you so much to see you unhappy with me.”

“I’m never unhappy when I’m with you. Where did you get that idea?”

Mikasa smiled despite her wobbly lips, gingerly placing her lips on your forehead. “I love you, [Name], I hope you’ll find someone bright enough to let you shine even more.”

It hurts just thinking about that but something pinched it even more when you stared at Historia in front of you, Facetiming someone on her phone. You two were celebrating the end of your exams in a café, treats covering the expanse of your table. It was a breather from all the stressful weeks draining your energy and now you feel refreshed. The book you recently bought was snug in your hands, eyes skimming over the words as Historia animatedly talked to her friend, Ymir. Hearing her laugh at something the freckled girl said, you couldn’t help but look up from a paragraph you were engrossed in. Historia looks so happy, cheeks flushed and giggles so clear that she couldn’t even contain them with her small hand. She never looked like this with you and as much as you anticipated the pain brought by the sight, it didn’t come.

Now, you understood what Mikasa felt, only this time you had to let Historia go because she already belonged to someone else.

Historia just said goodbye to her friend and you knew you had to hold on to this chance.

“Hey, Historia, I have a question.”

She sipped her iced tea. “Shoot.”

“You like Ymir, don’t you?”

The silence and flustered reaction that followed was all it took for you to smile.

< no more mistakes ‘cause in your eyes i'd like to stay

Getting out of a four-hour lecture was bliss to Mikasa. She stretched her arms over her head, letting out a deep breath of relief at the thought of spending her weekend without any backlogs. Finally, she can relax without feeling guilty. After all that hell her department professors gave her, she deserved this break.

Mikasa walked down the hallways with a slight spring in her steps, feeling her phone vibrate with a text message in her bag. Stopping by a little bit at the side of the hallway, Mikasa opened the outer compartment of her bag and turned on her phone. A smile instantly overtook her confused expression.

armin

hey, wanna watch a movie tonite?

eren suggested we could unwind after the exams

figured you needed it

you can stay the night here too !!

Her fingers typed out a reply almost giddily.

Sure.

Let me just text Sasha that I won’t be sleeping in the apartment tonight.

Another message from Armin appeared.

armin

yey !! see you later, Mikasa

At this point, her smile couldn’t be erased on her face.

See you later, Armin.

Then, another message from Armin popped out that made Mikasa laugh a little.

armin

this is eren

mikasa, can u bring dinner PLS

armin and i are too lazy to cook 

plus, you love us 🥺🥺🥺

The gray-eyed girl rolled her eyes, typing out a ‘fine’ before closing her phone. Her brother was sometimes too hard to handle but he can be sweet as well and saying that he needs dinner is just a way for him to say that he misses Mikasa’s cooking. When she looked up, a very familiar blonde and one of Mikasa’s classmates in a general subject came into view in one of the gazebos. Confusion was an understatement while she continued staring at Historia and Ymir laughing as if they were the only ones in the world. It was only a few weeks ago that she saw the blonde girl holding hands with you after a whole day of lectures. Maybe it was because she was staring too long at the couple that Ymir turned in her direction. As the freckled girl recognized the black-haired, stoic girl in one of their general classes, Ymir rose a hand in the air as a greeting. It also didn’t help that Historia looked at where Ymir was waving, with Mikasa tensing at the attention. She hastily waved back before turning in the direction of her car in the parking lot.

Several theories flickered through Mikasa’s head as she pulled out of the parking lot, the department store in their part of the city as her destination. Her mind was still a questioning mess the whole time she roamed the vegetable aisle until she bumped into another shopping cart, the clang of the metal breaking her trance.

“I’m sorry,” she told the person holding the other cart without looking up from her groceries.

“It’s fine.”

Mikasa quickly lifted her head at your voice. She probably looked like an idiot gawking at you in the middle of an aisle. You were dressed in an aquamarine shirt tucked in a pair of black slacks; your hair slung over one of your shoulders but for her, you looked so pretty. She concluded that you also got back from one of your lectures since your bag was placed inside the shopping cart, leaning beside a carton of strawberry milk. At the sight of the beverage, Mikasa’s chest pounded with her loud heartbeat, all the memories of you saying you like the taste of strawberries because of her entering her mind. Even after a full minute of you staring at each other, Mikasa couldn’t bear to look away. You’re so beautiful and she misses you so much.

“I miss you, too, Mikasa,” you murmured with flushed cheeks. “And you look good as usual.”

Mikasa’s face burned with embarrassment, reaching her ears, as she realized that she said her thoughts out loud. She was acting like she was in high school when she came to terms with her feelings for you. “U-Uhm, how are y-you?” Fucking hell, what is she stuttering for? It’s not like she got a below-passing score on one of her majors.

You softly smiled, tucking a stray lock of her behind your ear. “I’m doing fine. I was just thinking of making some homemade dinner tonight.” 

Mikasa nodded, recalling that you got a single apartment. “Me, too, but Eren asked me to make dinner for our movie night with Armin.”

At the mention of the two men, your face brightened. “How are they?”

The gray-eyed young woman reciprocated your smile. “Armin is still reeling Eren from doing anything stupid. You know how that dingbat is.” Your laugh made her day better. She faintly noticed that the two of you started walking side by side, pushing your carts to who knows what section of the department store. “The last time I saw them was before the exam week and we were studying so we didn’t do any catching up. Speaking of exams, how are yours?”

You hummed. “I think I got a passing grade on Parasitology and Microbiology. Those were the only subjects keeping me up for how many nights in a row.” You chuckled at your caffeinated state the previous weeks. “But the others were all papers so I guess I’m fine as of now.”

“Don’t tell me you got yourself palpitations from all the coffee.”

“You know me so well, Mika,” you laughed. “Don’t worry, I’m not going to order coffee every time I go out this time. I don’t want a repeat of that night when I studied for Para. It was worse because I don’t have a roommate. How is Sasha doing, by the way? Still a ball of sunshine, I hope.” You spotted a cereal box you wanted to try so you mindlessly reached out for it but it was on the top shelf. Mikasa noticed your struggles, stopping behind you after chuckling to herself at how adorable you looked to reach the cereal box. You visibly tensed when you felt her front brush against your back, the box of cereal greeting your vision with Mikasa’s hand brushing on yours. “Thank you,” you whispered.

“You’re welcome,” she answered, patting your head before taking her cart and pushing it in the direction of the dairy section. “Yeah, Sasha is still as rowdy as the day you last visited. I threatened her again when she tried eating what I was plating for dinner. It was not a lovely night.” Mikasa paused, looking behind her when you’re not following close. She slightly panicked when she saw you looking down and gripping on the handle of the shopping cart. “[Name]? Are you okay?”

“Mikasa, I’m still into you.” You faced her with a smile. “Will you let me love you with all my heart again?”

Mikasa was speechless, her throat clogging up with overflowing emotions. She let out a delighted light, looking at you with eyes full of love.

“Yes. Will you let me in your heart again, [Name]?”

“Always, Mika.”

Their song of forever played once again and it felt so right that they wondered why they stopped it in the first place.

[honey-dewey]

All For The Hunt

Pairing: Din Djarin/Jedi Reader

Word Count: 3,282

When gathering bounties, the Reader wonders how long it would take Mando to catch them. A bet ensues. Will the Reader last all 24 hours, or will Mando hunt them down before the time is up?

You sighed in the comforting silence of the Crest, carefully taking apart your lightsaber to examine the purple kyber crystal. You’d never had problems with your lightsaber, but you liked to be sure everything would continue to be in working order for any future events. Grogu was asleep, and would likely be that way for at least the next 24, if not 48, hours. The final member of your small clan was sitting on a crate, silently sorting through available bounties. He dismissed most of them on the basis of time, considering the three of you could only be in one place for a week or two. 

“How long does it take you to catch one?” You asked, breaking the silence as you clicked your saber pieces back together. 

Mando looked up, the T of his visor sending a shiver down your spine. “What?” 

You shrugged off the feeling of the shiver, putting your saber back on your belt. “How long does it take you to catch a bounty, on average?” 

“On average,” Mando repeated slowly, clearly thinking it over. “Two days, depending on the skill set the bounty has.” 

Nodding, you stretched. “What about me? How long would it take you to find me?”

Mando was quiet. He’d met you due to a bounty on your head, but had never once tried to turn you in or hunt you down. “Where?” 

“Here,” you said, gesturing to an open hatch that overlooked the bustling city.

Again, Mando considered it. “A day.” 

“A day?” You laughed, standing and moving to set up your sleeping area. “I bet I could last longer than that.” 

“Do you now,” Mando drawled, his voice a tone you’d decided long ago was amused. 

You smirked. “Yeah. I do. I think it would take you at least two to catch me and bring me back to the Crest.” 

Mando stood, holding a hand out. “Wanna bet?”

Immediately, your chest tightened with excitement. You and Mando made bets a lot, considering it was often the only thing to do in hyperspace. “Fine,” you said, shaking his hand. “Some rules. No going easy on me. I want this to feel legit.” 

Mando nodded. On bigger bets, you and him would alternate coming up with rules until you were both satisfied. “Second,” he said. “No intent to hurt or kill.” 

An obvious one, but you kept going. “I get a head start of half an hour.” 

“Okay. No using your weird power.” 

“It’s called the Force, and sometimes I can’t control it.” 

“Fine. No excessive intentional Force using.” 

“Then you can’t use any weapons beyond your blasters.” 

“My built in ones?” 

“I’ll make an exception. But no Z-6. It stays here. And don’t use those fancy ass settings on your HUD. That absolutely counts as cheating.”

Eventually, you and Mando reached a nice point of agreement on all fronts, and you began to get ready as Mando took the Child into the cockpit to wait out your half hour head start. 

Immediately, you dug up clothes Mando didn’t even know about, dressing quickly. They were your old Jedi robes, altered after you left to help you survive with a bounty on your head. You clipped your saber to your belt and tugged your old boots on, carefully tying away your hair and slipping on your hood. 

Walking silently out of the Crest, you checked your wrist, where a small multipurpose watch sat nestled between strips of leather to make makeshift vambraces. You set the watch to alert you when Mando left and raced off into the city. 

Even now, as the sun was setting, the city was busy. You slowed, checking your watch. Mando was still on the ship, and would continue to be for another ten minutes.

Taking a minute, you stopped to wander, making a plan. It had been almost 18 months since you’d hid from anyone this way, but as you imagined the Mandalorian hunting you down, it sharpened your instincts back to their razor-fine point. 

You smiled to a merchant you bought food off of, heart beating faster when your watch chimed and set a 24 hour timer. Mando was on the hunt. 

Scanning the skyline, you noticed a standout structure. A big wheel with baskets to hold people. It was in the more abandoned part of town, where only the desperate dwelled. 

But you weren’t desperate yet. Drawing your hood closer around your face, you continued about your way, acting as if you belonged. With your bag and your entirely innocent demeanor, you hoped Mando’s helmet would just glide right over the back of your head. 

You fought to keep yourself from tensing when you heard the telltale clinking of beskar behind you. But you managed to keep yourself composed as Mando passed right by you. The merchant you were talking to was relaxed, maybe a bit too relaxed, you realized as you used the Force to speed up the transaction. 

Stuffing the spare clothes into your bag, you bowed slightly to the merchant and began to walk off, towards the residential district. To anyone, it would look as if you were merely done shopping for the evening and were headed home. 

As you walked, you cursed your subconscious instincts. The Force had, upon remembering the feeling of being hunted down, heightened your hearing. You pulled your hood down, sliding a pair of pod racer goggles over your eyes. You couldn’t risk getting anything in your eyes now. 

Leaving your hood down, you shivered as a breeze blew through, carrying the sound of beskar. Was he already on your trail? 

Wondering if he’d remember if you used Force persuasion on him, or if it would even work at all, you continued to walk without a care in the world. Ducking down a narrower street, towards the abandoned district, you checked your watch once you were in a good enough alcove. An hour had passed since the hunt had begun. 

You continued to make your way towards the wheel, climbing up on people’s rooftops and racing across with silent footsteps. You caught sight of Mando at one point, checking his vambrace. Probably checking the time, just as you had been periodically doing.

You walked away, ducking behind a chimney when he turned to look in your direction. But his focus was on the ground. Had he seriously forgotten about the skillset that kept you alive for all those years? 

You continued towards the wheel structure, killing another hour with how you were twisting and turning to see if Mando was following you or if he was just looking. 

You scaled the wheel with ease upon reaching it, settling down in the highest basket. You could see Mando’s helmet glinting in the low night lights occasionally, but he didn’t seem to be on any kind of trail, so you scooted down, heightened your senses, and closed your eyes to sleep. 

You woke to the sun on your face, filtered through the protective lenses of your goggles. You were awake immediately, senses all hitting eleven as you felt someone scaling the wheel. 

Looking down, you blood ran cold. With nine hours gone and fifteen left, Mando had found you. 

You scooped your stuff up, tossing the cloak you’d purchased on to hide your Jedi clothes. In one smooth movement, you jumped, grabbing the old structural beams of the wheel and thanking the Force you’d picked up a pair of gloves as you swung from beam to beam with practiced ease. 

By the time you’d hit the ground, Mando was only halfway down, cursing loudly. So he had forgotten you were a self-taught acrobat. 

As soon as your boots made contact with the ground, you took off running, heading through the maze of scrap metal. You gave Mando a generous five minutes to get off the wheel, so you abandoned your cloak down one split at a fork in the road, backed up, and sprinted down the other one. 

You were aiming to hide away in the shadows of one of the warehouses, hoping they were filled with junk you could hide behind. Once you had proper shadow cover, no one would be able to find you. 

Of course, your entire plan was hinging on Mando not finding you before you reached the warehouse. The Force was active in your veins, reaching out and determining where he’d gone. He had followed the fork with your cloak, which would take him back to the market district. 

Slowing to a walk, you caught your breath, noting a pair of eyes on you. “Hello?” 

The person squeaked, hiding behind a crate. 

You smiled, trying to appear as nonthreatening as possible. “Hi. Did I scare you? I’m so sorry, me and my friend are just playing a game.” 

The person, who you could now see was a child, peered out. “You’re a Jedi.” 

You glanced down at the lightsaber on your belt. “I was,” you murmured. “But now, I’m just a person.” 

The child still seemed nervous. “Do you need help?” 

Crouching down so we’re the child’s height, you thought. Mando hadn’t said anything about receiving help, but you were fairly certain it was against the rules anyway. “No,” you said. “Like I said, it’s just a game. My friend isn’t actually trying to hurt me.” 

Of course, in that moment, a thick rope wrapped around your body, causing the child to cry out, scurrying away down a tunnel as you writhed. Truthfully, this would’ve been easy to escape, but you wanted to put on a show and make this interesting. You stood, hearing Mando’s footsteps clinking slowly as he wound the rope closer. 

“I can bring you in warm,” a low voice said from behind you, causing your entire body to shiver with an exhilarating mix of terror and excitement. “Or I can bring you in cold.” 

You waited, still and compliant, as Mando drew closer. Might as well use this time to test a previous theory. 

You turned, leaving a single coil of rope around your elbows and waist. “Mando. They sent you after me, hm? They’re fools, all of them.” 

Mando, to his credit, stayed silent. 

Sighing, you lifted your hands, opening your palms in the universal ‘I’m unarmed’ gesture. “I’m not your bounty,” you said firmly, dominant hand making a small arc as you prayed this would work. Mando’s mind was a steel trap, and Force persuasion rarely worked on those who were strong willed. “You need to let me go and head back to the market district. That’s where your bounty went.” 

Mando’s body shuddered, muscles tensing. “Shut up,” he growled, actually growled, at you. 

Instead, you repeated your phrase, putting as much Force behind it as possible. 

Mando didn’t falter, and when you saw that this wasn’t going anywhere, your dominant hand shot down, quick as a flash, and grabbed your lightsaber. Severing the rope in one smooth movement, you raced off while Mando caught his bearings, shaking his head and following after you. 

You were fast and you knew it, having been trained as a Jedi meant you were always in peak physical condition. But no amount of exercise or training could help the fact that Mando’s legs were longer than yours. 

“Shit!” You yelled, skidding around a corner and seeing a ten foot tall chain link fence between you and the warehouses. At the top of the fence sat coils of highly charged wire, meant to deter those who wanted to enter. But nothing could deter you now. 

You began to scale the fence, making it almost all the way up before Mando caught up to you. He called your name out, voice desperate. “Come back here!” 

“Like hell I will,” you replied, gripping the top chain and praying this would work. 

He called your name again, the fear in his voice making you pause. “You’ll get hurt! Let’s just go.” 

You screwed your eyes shut. In one calculated movement, you threw your body over the electric wire, arching your back and falling the ten feet down to the ground on the other side. 

Turning, you smiled at Mando, who was in apparent shock that that had actually worked. “Good luck,” you said with a mock salute. “You only have fourteen hours left.” 

Just like that, you ran off, heading down the row of warehouses. You picked one about five down, some old storage plant that made an excellent hiding place. Wedging yourself between two crates on the top floor, you settled in with an old book and a dim flashlight. 

At the three hour mark, you put your book down, wanting to save the rest for later, just in case you found somewhere else to hide. Instead of reading, you shuffled around until you found a semi-comfortable position and slipped into sleep. 

Your nap lasted longer than expected, clocking in at just over five hours. The exhaustion of being hunted wasn’t entirely foreign to you, but it had been a while since you’d experienced it, and you were fairly certain that you’d sleep for years upon reaching the Crest again. 

You checked your watch, standing and stretching to work the kinks out of your neck and back. Six hours left. This was shaping up to be the longest twenty four hours of your life. You’d always been cautious when you’d been hunted, but those were average bounty hunters. Being hunted by Mando was a totally different experience. 

Speaking of Mando, he wasn’t anywhere close to you, if your senses were accurate. You looked around, spotting a promising place to settle in the shadows. 

You carefully scaled thick chains and swung a few times to reach the hanging canvas cloth, held in the air by a length of chain. It took a few tries, but you were eventually cocooned safely in your makeshift hammock. Leaning back and letting the canvas cradle your body, you pulled your book out, entirely determined to finish it. 

You did manage to finish the book, killing another five hours. Only one left. 

At this point, you were worried about Mando. He hadn’t showed up for thirteen hours, which was concerning. Had he given up? No, he wouldn’t. He had to have a plan. 

You wiggled upright, wrapping a leg loosely in chain and sliding down to the ground. If Mando was waiting for you, then you’d give him what he wanted. There was only an hour left anyway. 

You found him in the market district square, talking to a merchant. He was waiting for you to come to him. 

“Smart bastard,” you grumbled, checking your watch. Half an hour. 

Mando turned, spotting you with your saber out but unlit. “You found me.” 

“You were baiting me,” you argued. “You’re still treating this like a game.” 

Everyone in the square hurried off, as if bounty hunts were normal out here. There was a clear ring for you and Mando. 

You lit your lightsaber, moving to a fighting stance. “Come get me, Mandalorian.” 

Mando’s hand twitched on his blaster, but before he could get a shot out, you were gone. 

You ducked and weaved down abandoned streets, lightsaber unlit in your hand. You were headed back to the Crest, Mando hot on your heels. 

You jumped, easily stepping up a stack of crates to the rooftops. Mando remained on the ground, racing beside you. He fired his blaster off a few times, and while his aim was true, you blocked them with ease, saber lit and whirring as you ran. 

Eventually, you reached the end of the roofs, jumping down and zig-zagging your way through the smaller houses on the outskirts of the city. The Crest was just up ahead, and you skidded behind it, where no one else could see you fight. 

Mando came up behind you with a flurry of dust, his blaster raised. You blocked the shots, hearing the click of the blaster emptying. Mando swore, coming at you with his fists. 

It wasn’t a horrible mistake, but his fighting style was entirely focused on physical force, whereas yours was more about the dance and balance of the fight. You matched Mando’s every move, whirling around him and occasionally striking his pauldron or backplate. Your lightsaber did nothing against the beskar, but it was more about the fact that you were slowly wearing him out. 

Eventually, you managed a high kick, accidentally aiming wrong. You’d meant to catch his collarbones, but your foot hit the lower lip of his helmet instead, sending it flying off and spiraling into the air.

You stopped, squeezing your eyes shut. “Fuck. Sorry. Go get that, okay? No cheap shots, I promise.” 

Mando shuffled, grabbing his helmet. When he softly signaled you, you opened your eyes. He was ready, fists raised. As you lit your saber and slid to a fighting stance, your watch beeped. You stared at it, confusion quickly melting to happiness. “I won!” 

Mando stood straight, a low chuckle coming from under his helmet. “So you did.” 

You two ended up back in the Crest, the same way you’d been the last time you’d been here. You had bathed, changing back into the soft sleep clothes you wore around the Crest. Mando, still in his armor, recharged his blaster, methodically taking apart his pulse rifle to examine the pieces. You did the same to your lightsaber, sitting opposite Mando in the cargo hold. 

“You never told me what you wanted.” 

“Hm?” You looked up, a bit confused. 

Mando shrugged. “You won. What do you want?” 

“I dunno,” you said softly, clicking your saber pieces back together. “Who are you?” 

“What?” 

“That’s what I want,” you decided. “Who are you Mando? I’ve known you for almost two years, and yet, I know nothing about you.” 

Mando was silent, so silent you figured he wouldn’t answer. But then, he looked up. 

“My name is Din Djarin.” 

You smiled. “It’s nice to meet you, Din Djarin.” 

After that, it was silent again. You finished with your saber, putting it with your day clothes and heading to the cockpit to entertain Grogu, who had just woken up. 

That night, after you’d laid down in your tiny sleeping area, you heard the door hiss open. Assuming it was just Din, you rolled over, rubbing your eyes against the harsh lights. “What?” 

Din looked as ashamed as someone wearing a face-covering helmet could. “I can’t sleep.” 

You were still confused. “Pardon?” 

“I can’t sleep.” 

“I heard you,” you grumbled. “But what does that mean?” 

Din took a breath. “Every time I close my eyes, I just see you, leaping that fence like an idiot. You scared me. I thought you were going to die.” 

“Huh.” You shuffled in your bed, balling the blanket up. “I guess, well. I’m sorry.” 

“It’s fine,” Din promised. “But can I?” 

He didn’t even need to finish. You scooted over, making as much room as you could. “C’mon. Yours probably has more room, but I know for a fact my mattress is softer than yours, and I’m sore as shit right now.” 

Din chucked, climbing into the bunk and lifting Grogu up with him. 

It took some finessing, but eventually, you and Din were comfortably snuggling together in your bed, Grogu in his tiny hammock above your feet. 

“Do you really sleep with it on?” You asked the pitch blackness in front of you. 

“Hm?” Din hummed, and his voice sounded clearer, more human. 

You smiled, curving into his chest and wrapping him up closer to you. “I guess not. Good night Din.” 

Din let out a soft breath, ruffling your hair and letting his chin rest on top of your head. “Good night.”

If you liked this, I do dialogue prompt requests as well! Go request something if you want! 

[whumpster-dumpster]

Tag game by @bad-behavior

List your top three whump tropes and tag people.

Whoever gets tagged gets to say how they feel about your top three tropes.

After finishing that, they then list their top three tropes, and the tagging cycle goes on!

I’ve been tagged by multiple people so I’ll address them in one post! Beware, it’s a long one!

@bad-behavior:

1. Bad caretakers

2. Cynical and mean Whumpees that don’t know just how much they need a hug.

3. Sleep deprivation, and exhaustion induced illnesses

1. I do like it sometimes, but I have to be in the right mood. I like caretakers who are bad by accident and then feel guilty about it once they realize.

2. I usually prefer a sweet and vulnerable whumpee but I’ll beat up some of the dry, cynical ones too, if I have a villain who can break them easier than they ever anticipated. 

3. EVERYTHING I EVER LOOOOOVED

@novawhumps:

1. Unconscious, fainting, getting knocked out all that stuff

2. Whumpee having an oxygenmask and they are desperatly trying to get it off

3. Environment whump. A building that collapses earthquakes, getting trapped in a fire. Being trapped in the water.

1. YES, YES, YES, YES, YES, YES, it’s everything I love!

2. I love oxygen masks, but usually prefer the moment when the whumper (or caretaker) is holding it onto the whumpee’s face and they surrender to it

3. That’s some good stuff! The building collapse is probably my favorite out of the ones you mentioned. The claustrophobia of being trapped under debris in the dust and the dark...Oof.

@whumpwillow:

1. Painful wound cleaning. I just love the tenderness, the intimacy (platonic or otherwise) of being up close and comforting the person while taking care of their injuries, the flinching at the antiseptic, the gentle hands dabbing cuts on the face. good stuff. 

2. Messy recovery. non-linear progression of the whumpee working towards getting over their trauma. self-sabotaging themselves. getting angry at caretaker and then feeling guilty about it and hating themselves even more. it’s good angst. 

3. Enemy to Caretaker. perhaps in a hero x villain context, or just some good ol’ fashioned rivals, one of them needs help and goes to the other. Perhaps the enemy is the only one around, and perhaps the whumpee just has that much of a shitty support system that their enemy is the only one they can think of to go to, but just...yes.

1. I love the intimacy too! Especially when the caretaker’s soothing them in a soft voice while they work, Whumpee gritting their teeth but resisting the urge to push their hands away because despite the pain, they know they can trust them. Good stuff!

2. Yes, always. Recovery is messy. Recovery can take a long, long time. Recovery affects everyday life. It’s good to see it explored.

3. Ehh, I’m not as big on this one. I’d rather it be a frenemy than a real enemy. I feel like legit enemies should stay on their own side XD

@the-metalhead-chick:

1. whippings

2. brandings

3. being collared

1. I don’t have any big feelings about whipping most of the time; I think I’d rather see the scars from it afterward than see it in the moment, I don’t know why

2. I like it a little more than whipping! It’s not a huge favorite but still enjoyable! The screams while they’re being burned are legendary!

3. Yessss! Especially if the whumpee frantically claws at the collar, trying to pull it off! Fun times.

@whumplance:

1. pet whump

2. non-human whumpie, but I especially love it when whumpie has feathery wings

3. Whumper pretending to be an incompetent caretaker. the levels of deceit and betrayal in that is just.. mhmhnmm👌🏻

1. That’s a lot of fun! It’s interesting to see just how far it can go. When the whumpee eats and drinks out of dog bowls, that’s just the lowest of the low and I love it.

2. I usually prefer robots as my non-human whumpees, but winged whumpees are great too! Those poor babes getting their feathers ripped out or their wings clipped, that’s so angsty!

3. I haven’t seen much content for that trope so I’m not sure how to feel about it, but a whumper undercover always has potential.

@thinkingofausername:

1. Whump aftermath. No matter how good the actual whump/hurt is, I’m waiting for the comfort. Painful caretaking, soft caretaking, long recoveries, wounds that never heal, whatever - gimme

2. Breakdown. Whether it be the whumpee finally received some gentleness, or they’re delirious, or they’ve had a nightmare - let them break and let someone hold them!

3. Strong caretaker. Have they been hurt before? Are they the medic? Are they the leader? In any case, they’re the rock, they’re there for others, but who’s there for them?

1. I love myself some comfort but I will confess sometimes I like to beat ’em up and go XD It can be funny to see the readers react in outrage at a cliffhanger.

2. YES, please and thank you. No matter how stoic or strong or angry my whumpee is, they are guaranteed to break down and cry and be held at some point if I have anything to say about it!

3. My favorite kind of caretaker! Ever! The one who would do anything to protect the whumpee, who’ll pour everything they have into making them feel safe and taking the pain away -- even at the cost of causing themself pain.

@twistedcaretaker:

1. The Box BoyVerse. Just *vaguely gestures* everything! This is the most charming, and attractive part of whump for me. I love the whump community as a whole, and I especially love the partakers of the Boxyverse and just a special breed of sickos💖💖

2. Inhuman Whump. Particularly winged whumpees. Particularly vampires, demons, and angels in that order.

3. Heroes x Villain to Lovers😂 yeah. Just leave me in my Wattpad days of shame alone!

1. I haven’t really come into contact with much of this universe, which is probably shocking to everyone XD It sounds fun in theory!

2. I don’t often delve into demon/angel whump so I’m kind of ambivalent to it, but hey, that means more for you!

3. Naaah. Not really my thing. 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Okay, so here are a few of mine!

1. Fevers! The haziness, the delirium, the glazed eyes, the sweat beading down the whumpee’s face, sticky damp hair, the chills, lukewarm baths and cool compresses -- it’s all just a great Aesthetic.

2. Feeling each other’s pain through a soul bond. Not something I see as often, but the caretaker stumbling as fear and pain fills them, the urgent sense that something is wrong, the whumpee’s in danger, they need to find them now -- and imagine if Whumper found out they can cause both of them pain at once! Two birds with one stone!

3. Manhandling, especially when the whumpee is grabbed by the hair, the face, or the throat. It can be intense, it can be creepy, it can leave some great bruises...Plus it’s a good way of measuring how defiant or submissive the whumpee will be. 

My brain is a little dead now, I can’t think of anyone to tag. If you want to do this, feel free!

[red-becca]

And so, we hit 20 followers early, lol. Woo! If you have any critiques on my headcanons or want to add more, let me know!

Also, some of these probably don't make sense, so allow me to put in some context. I see Red as a secret hopeless romantic and that even when she's older, she enjoys reading about fairy tales and all that. And secretly loves watching Disney films. This is due to me loving Disney too much and getting ideas from them, lol.

But yeah, that's about it for some context that I can think I can explain right now. If you wanna ask anything about my headcanons, that's allowed too.

---

(These are headcanons for aged up Revin, just a warning/ saying. Just to be sure you guys know that. And also, these are subject to change at any point in time because I just love making hcs/ changing up my hcs for fun)

-Before they got together, they were always sad and watching from afar whenever the other was with someone. Now that they are together, they get jealous every now and again instead.

-But Kevin is the one who gets jealous more due to Red being one of the popular girls and is generally seen as a really pretty girl by most guys at their school.

-They both really frickin' love each other. Like if they had to give up their favorite thing just to be with the other, they would not hesitate to do so.

-Both of them are also huge dorky geeks and you can't tell me otherwise. Though Kevin is clearly more of a geek than Red.

-They have specific nicknames for each other. Kevin's nickname for Red is "My Goddess" or "My Alien Queen" and Red's nickname for him is "My Sweet Prince".

- But also, Red rarely calls him by his full name. Always calling him "Kev" unless she's mad at him.

- In the genderbent world/ universe, only Robbie has a nickname for Kassie so far. He calls her "My Sweet Star".

- They have specific ringtones for each other. Kevin has "Just The Way You Are" by Bruno Mars for Red. And Red has "Love On Top" by Beyoncé for Kevin.

- Kevin got her a black rose necklace for one of her birthdays. The same black rose necklace she would constantly stare at whenever they had dates at the mall. She would tell him that he didn't need to buy it for her and yet he did, anyway. Meanwhile in a genderbent world, Robbie would have gotten Kassie a Star Trek necklace.

- Then what Red got Kevin that he treasures so much is a custom Stormtrooper motorcycle helmet that he wears whenever they go on rides on Red's motorcycle.

- Kevin always gets her a bouquet of red roses whenever he can afford it and Red does her best to lengthen the lives of the roses. While Robbie gives Kassie a bouquet of forget me nots.

-Their first kiss wasn't as romantic as Kevin hoped it would be, he ended up headbutting her out of pure nervousness. And despite getting better at kissing, Red regularly brings up the incident to him and her friends.

-Most of their dates consists of just watching Sci-Fi movies at Red's place with some snuggling in between.

-But their favorite kind of date is strolling around with ice cream in their hands. Well, it's mostly Kevin's favorite as he enjoys watching Red messily eat ice cream and happily cleaning her face.

-Though if their date is to somewhere outside and it gets cancelled because of rain, they will simply slow dance to old music with the rain softly being heard in the background.

-They always celebrate Chinese New Year together and even wear the traditional clothes for it. And once they get married and have a family of their own, they get their kids to wear traditional clothing too.

- And speaking of getting married... When they do get married, their first dance will be based on the first dance from the live-action Cinderella movie. (The only good live action adaptation, imo-)

- Because they loved practicing and performing that dance, they can't help but recreate it whenever they have nothing to do at home.

-They rarely go to Kevin's house to hang out because Kevin's mom will literally not leave the two alone despite Kevin's countless protests.

-Kevin's mom absolutely adores the red head Kevin is dating. Which Kevin appreciates but sometimes, she can be a bit too much.

- Red's parents, on the other hand, while they tease Red on how overwhelming sweet she is to Kevin, they respect them enough to leave them alone together. (That or they are too busy with each other, lol-)

-They love wearing matching outfits/ shirts whenever they go out for dates. (Yo, I don't know about you guys but this shit is legit the most cutest thing a couple can do) (Also, lowkey want to see them with like Mickey and Minnie Mouse ears but I can't draw, so yeah. :/)

-Because he's an adorable little gentleman, he always waits on Red after his basketball practice to take her home. Whether it be a long cheerleading or volleyball practice, he will always wait for her. Granted, because of how long they take, he ends up falling asleep each time but Red always appreciates the gesture and/or thought.

-Part of the headcanon above is Kevin learning first aid just to tend for Red whenever she gets injured during these practices.

- And then when it's Kevin who's busy with his practice for basketball, Red returns the favor by waiting for him and then taking him home on her motorcycle.

- During their respective events, the other will do their absolute best to cheer for the other.

-Kevin always takes stolen pictures of Red and posts them on Instagram with the caption "Just my red head goddess looking beautiful as always" or anything cheesy and sweet like that.

- Red does the same, sometimes. She captions them with the sweetest thing she could ever type or pretty much just describes what's happening in the picture.

-Kevin tries his best to be more suave and less dorky around Red by like trying to flirt and using tips from Kenny and Clyde but whenever he uses them on Red, he quickly becomes a blushing mess which Red always finds to be hella cute.

-Red just absolutely loves grabbing Kevin's face and giving him Eskimo kisses. To which, no one's surprise, Kevin absolutely loves, too.

-As much as other people dislike it, Red loves (or maybe gets even turned on, heh) whenever Kevin speaks all geeky and stuff like that. Meanwhile, Kevin really loves it whenever the girl speaks Klingon.

-No matter what Red does, Kevin will always find what she does to be the absolute most coolest shit he's ever seen. He always loves to gush about how cool his red head goddess is.

-Even though it's a struggle for her, Red's doing her best to give up her smoking addiction just for Kevin to stop worrying about her health.

-When they start living together, Kevin adopts an adorable Siberian Husky puppy for her to keep her company while he's at work and then that's their baby until they get married.

- But before that happens, he will be the one who buys her little black kitten, Serendipity, for one of her birthdays.

-Speaking of living together, the jobs they'll be having are the following: Kevin is a streamer who streams pretty much anything that he wants to stream and Red is a model. They keep their dating life private for the most time. Mostly due to Red not wanting to steal attention from Kevin in any streams.

(They didn't look like a lot from where I originally posted them but, I guess, I shouldn't be so surprised, lol. I am Revin trash, after all.)

[wonwooze]

Something told me it was you.

characters: jeon wonwoo/reader au genre: light smut, fluff warnings: cussing, alcohol consumption word count: 5841

Jeon Wonwoo is your best friend for life. You two met just before the two of you were supposed to depart for college. The two of you declared that the term platonic was the exact terminology to describe your friendship. You two were each other’s wingman, sworn protectors, and so many more. So it became a wonder, a great mystery when the two of you starts to realise that the line between love, and being in love is a fine one. Wonwoo best friends! to lover inspired by Zayn’s Tightrope. 

i. We Should Thank Seungkwan

messages

15:46

Seungkwan boo: hey loser. What are you doing today? Probably nothing I shouldn’t ask. I’m going to eat out with a couple of my friends tonight. You should come and stop being such a caveman. See  ya.

y/n: when? What should I wear? What friends?

Seungkwan boo: at 6, we’re going to a movie first at the mall. They’re my school friends. And they’re cool don’t worry. Be ready I’ll come get you.

y/n: ????? Ok

Seungkwan was a friend you, almost quite literally, found on craigslist. At the time you met Seungkwan, you were struggling with SAT and college application. Wanting to get into one of the top 5 universities didn’t help either. Equipped with wits, and endless resourcefulness, you found Seungkwan’s ad on craigslist. He was offering himself to be an SAT tutor, claiming that he almost graduated as valedictorian. After a quick search of his social media, Boo Seungkwan turned out to be enrolled in one of the top private schools in the country. You decided that he looked like a legit tutor that could help you ace your college application, and enlisted his help. As it turns out, Seungkwan was a better friend than he was a tutor. He was always hanging out with you at your house, or at his, telling the perfect jokes where he reiterates funny stories of his schoolmates—whom you never met—in great detail. You liked hanging out with Seungkwan, it would’ve been so much better if you have met him earlier, you thought.

That night was like no other. Seungkwan had never asked you to meet his schoolmates before. You’ve only seen their pictures on Seungkwan’s instagram posts, and have only heard of them from his anecdotes. All you know was that he had a large group of friends, and that they’re supposedly really fun. When Seungkwan showed up on your doorstep, he was eerily excited. He had a huge grin stamped on his face, and a Prius waiting behind him with the engines on. “I’m so excited for my friends to finally meet each other! You know y/n, I’ve been telling these fools that you would be a great addition to our friend group but they weren’t having it.” Seungkwan gestured to his friends inside the car. “Their loss, not mine.” You told him. “That’s the spirit!” He chimed.

When he finally shoved you into the backseat, and himself into riding shotgun, you finally had a look at the infamous Seungkwan’s friend group. There were a total of 5 people in that car, including yourself. You were stuck in the backseat, with two other guys you absolutely had never seen before. “Everyone, this is Y/N! She’ll be gracing us with her presence tonight.” That remark made you blush, and chummy in the gut, feeling the room temperature about to get awkward. You were always kind of anxious about meeting Seungkwan’s friends, fearing they decided they didn’t like you at the end of the day. “Hi.” You said awkwardly, waving your sweater paws lightly.

“You know, y/n. I always thought Seungkwan made you up just so he can ditch us lately. Nice to meet you though, I’m Soonyoung.” The boy sitting at the other side of the seat said by way of greeting. “Yeah, I always doubted you were real. I’m Vernon, nice to meet you.” The boy next to you said shyly. He was good looking, and had the faint smell of aftershave. “Yah! You guys are always on my neck it’s annoying.” Seungkwan chimed in from the front. And that’s how you met Wonwoo. Even if he didn’t made the introduction right then and there, you finally had a good look at him when the group finally arrived at the mall. He straightened his blazer before he reached out his hand to you, and with his baritone like deep voice announced that his name was Jeon Wonwoo.

“Wonwoo! Y/n is going to go to NYU this year! I was helping her with her application remember?” Seungkwan said in the middle of gulping down his cola. Your heart leapt when he mentioned NYU, still berated with the anxiety of college entrance procedures. “You are? Me too! What are the odds. Man I sure hope I get accepted though, it would suck if I didn’t.” “NYU is famous for its film school though, are you majoring in film?” This was the first chance you got of a private conversation with Wonwoo. “Nope. I’m majoring in English lit. Are you taking film?” “Yeah, I do actually.” You liked Wonwoo immediately. You remembered thinking his presence was so still, and calm, so calm that it softened your rough edges, and calmed your anxiety. “I hope I got accepted though. I don’t know what I would do if I didn’t” You told him. Wonwoo shrugged lightly, and nonchalantly adds, “You’ll get in. Trust me.” You’ve never trusted zodiacs, or tarot reading, or anything of the sorts. But the way Wonwoo said it, his deep set cat like eyes piercing into you, that day you decided you were going to trust Jeon Wonwoo and whatever he said.

The next time you met him was when the two of you settled into orientation day at NYU. Wonwoo lived in a dorm at campus area, and you got your own place 5 minutes away from him. The two of you were so delighted when you met each other that day. Wonwoo remembered thinking it was like a match made in heaven. Being the quiet, shy, introvert that he is, Wonwoo relished the idea of having company when venturing into a brand new territory. He secretly wanted to held your hand the whole time but refrain from doing so. That day, Wonwoo took you to eat at a wings joint near campus, and the two of you laughed your asses off listening to Wonwoo’s anecdotes about Seungkwan. Lips smeared with barbecue sauce, Wonwoo ended his sermon about Seungkwan with a statement that you had etched into your memory until today. You and Wonwoo had fought about a number of things, which band was better, which movie was better, which tie he should buy. Sometimes he changed your mind, and sometime you changed his. But on this specific issue, you have never changed your opinion about because you had agreed completely. That night he said, “we should really thank Seungkwan though. If it wasn’t for him, we wouldn’t have met each other and I wouldn’t have a friend at campus. Who would’ve thought he would be a blessing?” The two of you have never stopped talking since then.

ii. The Tale of Two Roommates

“Won!” You banged at Wonwoo’s dorm room at exactly 7 pm. The two of you were supposed to hang out at the library, studying for finals. “Just a sec!” You heard Wonwoo called from inside the room, and couldn’t help but wonder what is taking him long enough. Contrary to what you expected, when the door finally swung open it wasn’t Jeon Wonwoo that was at the other side of the door. It was Wonwoo’s roommate, Kim Mingyu, if you had remembered correctly.  “Oop! Sorry to startle you. Wonwoo is going to take some time, you better come in.” He said sweetly, a smile was breaking on his lips. Mingyu was kind of cute, and you wondered why Wonwoo never mentioned that fact. “Thanks! Um, Mingyu is it?” “Correct! I suppose Wonwoo have mentioned me?” Mingyu had eyes like sugar and caramel, sweet. “Only in passing.” You shrugged lightly. Mingyu proceeded to sit on his bed and fiddled his laptop.

“I hope you don’t mind me blasting a song through my laptop? I lost my headphones a couple of days ago.”

“Yeah no problem! This is your room anyway.”

“Just between you and me,  I lent my headphones to Wonwoo and I could swear he had never given it back.” Mingyu said, not looking mad at all, instead his visage was decorated with a dubious grin. Implying that him and Wonwoo are close enough to make fun of each other. You continued to wonder why Wonwoo never properly introduced the two of you. The person in question was still in the bathroom, hell, only God knows what he’s doing in there.

You had thoughts that Wonwoo was going to be taking too long, and the library is going to be crowded by the time you two got there, but in all honesty he was unknowingly doing you a favour. As you sat on Wonwoo’s bed on the other side of the room, Mingyu was casually playing music by different artists. His tastes ranges from electric music, dance music, to popular songs you often hear on the radio. Your heart skipped a beat only when he glances at you from across the room, and replayed the song that was playing before. It was from Arctic Monkey’s 2013 album, a song you often play when you were in the mood to fall in love. The song, titled Knee Socks, was dripping through the speakers, and Mingyu caught your head bopping along with the beat. “You know this song?”

“Yeah, it was pretty popular when it came out didn’t it?” You added. This time you held Mingyu’s gaze. “It is actually! God, I feel so dumb playing this song now. It feels so outdated.” You chuckled at that. What does an attractive man like Mingyu had to fear? He began to talk to you about the songs he played after Arctic Monkey’s famous ballad was over. And you realised that Kim Mingyu, had held your attention completely. There was something about him that reminded you of chocolate covered caramel. When Wonwoo finally came out of the bathroom, he had looked unusually dashing. His face was completely bare, save for his round eyeglasses he never took off. He was wearing a v-neck t-shirt that shown his perfectly sculpted collarbone. And his wet hair was still slightly dripping. Not that you had noticed any of this, because that night you were completely smitten by Kim Mingyu.

Since then, you’ve found yourself making up a string of unusual reasons to come over to Wonwoo’s dorm. Either to borrow a charger, borrow Wonwoo’s laptop, anything, just so you have an excuse to see Kim Mingyu. It was between your 5th to 6th visits when Mingyu finally asked you out on a date. Wonwoo, being Wonwoo, always warned you against it. “Be careful! I hear he has a reputation.” It’s always be careful this, be careful that. You only started to wonder if Wonwoo was making some of those things up. As reality goes, Mingyu turned out to be one of the sweetest guy to exist. He was always walking you back to your place, even if that meant he had to take a 5 minute detour. He was always careful of your feelings. He never disregarded anything you said. The first few months, your relationship with Mingyu was perfect. You hung out with him in his room, which gave you the additional advantage of hanging out with Wonwoo too. You made Mingyu hot chocolate when he’s craving for one, and the list goes on.

But some stories are not only about you. When you first started dating Mingyu, Wonwoo was always skeptical about it. He was never quite sure about the odds of you two being together. But when it looked like it was going perfectly, Wonwoo’s frown began to cease. His doubts replaced with another feeling. Wonwoo couldn’t quite give the feeling a name, he just knew it when he felt it. 

The first time was when he walked into the two of you cuddling on Mingyu’s bed. It was not like Wonwoo was seeing red, but it almost seemed like he did. He felt the tiniest pinch inside his gut, but no words were registered to explain the phenomenon. After that, he only dreaded the thought of seeing the two of you together. It was not as if he didn’t like seeing you happy, he did. He completely, wholeheartedly did. He just preferred he didn’t have to see it.

iii. You Shouldn’t Build Houses Out Of People

It was nearing the end of your second year in college when you woke up in Wonwoo’s arms. You and Wonwoo stayed being the best friends that you always were. The year that has passed only made the bond stronger. There has been an additional list of activities that you and Wonwoo had shared without making it awkward because you two are almost closer than any friend. Going out late at night for McDonalds, hanging out at his dorm, catching a midnight movie premiere together. It was always Wonwoo this, Wonwoo that, if not Mingyu this, Mingyu that. Wonwoo had hugged you, braided your hair, picked you up and swung you around when your short movie won a college award. You had hugged Wonwoo, caressed the top of his head, squeezed his hand when you get nervous. Anything and everything. You had stayed together with Mingyu too, the whole time. You caught yourself repeatedly saying a prayer for Wonwoo and Mingyu’s presence in your life.

This is where the chapters started to get ugly. Love stories, they tend to get ugly before the main protagonist had any idea what they had been seeing. The same pattern you had found happening with your relationship with Mingyu. It was not as if you didn’t love Mingyu, you do. And he loved you too. But as time strengthen some relationships, yours only wore it down. Mingyu was constantly distracted by his college, his devotion to his music projects, his friend group that doesn’t include you and Wonwoo. This is when you start to realise that love was not a given. It was supposed to be a companion you were supposed to caress, feed and entertain. It was a guest, that came knocking into two people’s heart. And when the people in question started to be too busy to take care of it like they used to, love began to walk out the door. And so then, when Mingyu began to choose hanging out with his band, instead of you, or when you made little effort in making Tuesdays with Mingyu happen again, that was when love began to fade into the background.

The breakup was harsh. It was not as if you had been too numb to not feel broken up about ending a year long relationship with Mingyu. You had silently wept for falling out of love, you often question what you could’ve done to make it turn out the other way. You and Mingyu was sitting at the bench in the dorm lawn. It was almost midnight, so no one could’ve overheard the silent sobs. “It’s hurting me. That we are together, but I don’t feel for you anymore. I feel for the memories. I clung to it as if it’s the only thing I have. It pains me.” Mingyu’s words would not leave your head for years to come. And you had silently nodded in pain, because it was hurting you too. To look at Mingyu, and to wish loudly that things were as they were before. It hurt you to look at Mingyu and could only think of the past when the memories of present was what supposed to hook you onto reality.

He had went inside after that. That night, Mingyu didn’t walk you home and take his usual 5 minutes detour. But Wonwoo did. Like all best friends do, upon seeing Mingyu coming into the room looking completely distressed, something in Wonwoo snapped. He grabbed his coat, ran down the stairs and caught you silently crying on the bench. Wonwoo walked you home. Staying completely silent all the way there. Tucked you in to bed, and brew you coffee. He stayed with you the whole night, skipped class the next day, and moved out of his dorm the next day. “I just think it would be awkward seeing Mingyu after this.” He had said when you asked him why. You promised you would help him find a place.

Before you two had found one though, Wonwoo stayed at your place for a couple of days.  And then days turn to weeks. You had an extra spare bed you only used if your parents come to visit, and Wonwoo was welcomed to occupy it anytime he want. It was quite a comical set up, Wonwoo sleeping on the extra bed in front of the tv, and you on safely tucked in your bedroom. Wonwoo’s stuff splattered everywhere in his space, yours neatly stacked in your bedroom. You having to walk over Wonwoo sleeping body when you had to go to the bathroom at 3 in the morning. It was quite comical, but it was extra magical. Wonwoo was the best roommate anyone could ever ask for, he made dinner sometimes, do the dishes regularly, he’d watched shitty tv with you all the time, and he’s basically a kickass friend. You didn’t want to admit it but having Wonwoo living with you clearly made your days a whole lot better. You slept better knowing the safety of Wonwoo’s presence. You studied better, because Wonwoo always offered to study with you—knowing that someone willingly endured a form of torture with you, had given you an extra serotonin boost. You almost wished he would never found his own place.

The one night that you highlighted vividly in your memory about this chapter you shared with Wonwoo, was the night of your final exams. Exams had always tortured you. You always had this innate need to do everything perfectly, but also freaking out over the limited time that you have in studying. It was not a strange phenomenon that sometime you broke down crying before an exam, it was an accepted reality. Especially, when the days are extremely bad. You would cry harder, or break easier. There was nothing in between.

When Wonwoo noticed this, he calmed you down immensely. You were instantly reminded of how Wonwoo’s presence provided you this strange sense of calmness that softened all your edges. Wonwoo told you not to get too hung up over it, you’ll ace it anyway, you’ll be fine, in his deep baritone voice you secretly admired. The cherry on top of the sundae was when Wonwoo brought you to your room, tucked you in lightly so you would sleep. “It’s okay to sleep now. We’ve been studying since 5, we can continue again tomorrow morning. Besides your exams didn’t start until the day after tomorrow right?” The way he said it so calmly just forced rationality inside your head, you did nothing but nod. You caressed Wonwoo’s hand lightly as he sat by your bed to fiddle with his phone. Anyone who didn’t comprehend the bond you had with Wonwoo would think that what you were doing implied that you were his girlfriend. But anyone who shared the same bond probably knew better. But you weren’t so sure you knew better either.

“Won. Please don’t leave.”

“What? I’m not leaving. I’m right here.” He said, not peeling his eyes off the screen. “I mean just sleep here tonight. I have plenty of room.” At that Wonwoo directed his gaze at you. Undoubtedly surprise at your statement. This, was the one activity you had never done together. “Are you sure?” He asked. Wonwoo, the compassionate, quiet guy, who had helped you strengthen your grip on reality, time and time again. Sometimes you ask yourself if you even deserve him. “I’m serious. Just sleep!” You tugged at his hand and tapped at the empty space beside you. “Okay..” He agreed, and proceeded to take off his glasses, put down his phone and lay down beside you. Granted, with Wonwoo on the bed, the space seemed to shrink.

“Are you comfortable?” He asked innocently. “Ugh, don’t make this awkward Won. Just flop on the bed, lay in it, whatever. My bed is your bed, too.” You said as you stare at him. Head propped on the pillow. It was not long after that you started snoring. And so did Wonwoo. Secretly he liked sharing your bed. Your warmth provided him a strange sense of comfort he never experienced before. Wonwoo, only wondered, not out loud though, at the strange beat of his heart that night.

The nights after that wasn’t as bad as the first one. Sometimes you flop over his bed in front of the tv and slept with him. Sometimes he slept on your bed. It was a shared routine that you two never talked about. Not a single word said about the nature of this new activity.

A couple of nights after, you were casually scrolling through your instagram feed only to be greeted with a picture of Mingyu, and a girl you recognised was his classmate. You didn’t know what it meant. Had it meant Mingyu was completely over you? Did he do it just to piss you off? You realised you were living in bliss when you were with Wonwoo. Completely unaware of the world going on out there. Almost like a honeymoon, you thought, but then quickly dismissed the thought as if it were foul. But that picture of Mingyu had completely shattered the serenity that sheltered you and Wonwoo. You threw your phone across the room. Seemingly seething with anger.

“The hell? What is wrong with you?” He began to walk and pick up the phone. Mingyu’s smile was still plastered on the phone. The same exact page. “Oh.” He said when he realised what it was all about. “Yeah. Oh.” Your voice was dripping with venom. Only then did you realise how your anger at the breakup has never really subsided. It was as if anger comes in waves, and this was about to crash, loudly. Wonwoo calmly put the phone down to pull you into a tight hug. His hug felt calming. If your anger was like waves, Wonwoo’s hug was like a lighthouse.

You were sitting next to him on his bed, your head atop his shoulder, and his chin atop yours. “I’m sorry.” He said, softly. You made a mental note that you could recognise his voice, anywhere, anytime. You only shrugged in response. Did your relationship not mean anything to Mingyu? It hurts the most when it almost meant the world to you. You were cherishing the way Wonwoo’s arms curled on your shoulders was like a sign of protection. It in and of itself, meant you’re safe. You could only wonder how someone could be of such importance to another person.

“You know, you shouldn’t build houses out of people, y/n. Because they come and go. So easily. Almost like it’s nothing.” He finally pulled himself away from his initial position to stare at you right in the eyes. His eyes, you’ve always thought was like a cat’s. But now you realised the gaze, the fire flaming behind it, it looked more like a fox’s. Everything about Wonwoo in that moment, reminded you of safety, protection, familiarity and home. He was the only thing in New York that tied you to home. You both came from the same small town, you knew the same people, you’ve been his friend since college barely even started. Wonwoo was, in every sense of the word, home. And that night you’ve decided to come back.

You’d like to think you were never on your right mind when you’re sad. You were always making rash decisions you would later either regret, or forget. You never really know what was into you, to get you to pull him by the t-shirt, close the distance between you two that initially felt like 5 miles, but was now nothing but a shared breath. You kissed him, so hard that it felt like you were drowning. Later in life, when someone offered you to pick between chocolate covered caramel and peppermint candies, you made sure to pick the latter. Because that night, Wonwoo smelled like peppermint candies, and you couldn’t get it out of your mind. Almost as if it was driving you crazy.

You’d like to think you were pushed by all the pent up anger, the unsaid feelings about how you secretly liked Wonwoo’s touch, Wonwoo’s presence beside you on the bed, just Wonwoo. It could’ve been the way Wonwoo was literally sitting underneath the moonlight, basking in all of its glory. It could’ve been the way his fox like eyes stared at you like no one ever does before, like he understood you, through and through. It could’ve been anything. All you knew was if you didn’t kiss Wonwoo, you would’ve gone insane. “Kiss me, Won.” You murmured against his lips. And to your surprise, he did. He kissed you like he had never kissed anyone before.

He, on the other hand, liked to think, he was carried off. He didn’t know what has gotten into his right mind kissing you like that. Like he was hungry. Like he was in pain. He had pushed all other thoughts from his mind. That night there was only you. He looked into your eyes, and was reminded of the person you have always been to him. The only person who would listen to his nerdy ramblings about movies. The only person who remembered the names of all his cousins who always caused him trouble. The only person worth a damn in this whole world. It was not long before his hands found the buttons of your shirt, and your hands slid into his back, passionately lifting his t-shirt. When he pulled himself off of you to breathe, you recited him, “I shouldn’t build houses out of people, because they leave. But you, you’re my best friend Won. You would never leave.” You pulled him into a kiss one more time, and that night was the night the two of you came home.

iv. What We Talk About When We Talk About Love

“Jeon Wonwoo!”

Wonwoo, startled, immediately turned around to see who that was. The owner of the voice was Kwon Soonyoung, his childhood best friend. Wonwoo had his hand on your back, slowly ushering you to Soonyoung’s direction. Kwon Soonyoung was a handsome 20-something year old. He was tall, not taller than Wonwoo, you made a mental note to yourself. His figure was very lean, like the figure of a professional figure skaters, or that of a professional dancer. Wonwoo with a grin stamped all over his face went up to him and gave him the tightest hug.

It was a festive evening. To be precise, it was Wonwoo’s friend, Seungcheol’s wedding. “Crazy how he is only a year older than me, but he’s getting married. Meanwhile, I couldn’t even score a date?”

Strange as it may seems, that one eventful night was the only time you slept with Wonwoo. You two woke up the other day, brushed each other’s hair, straightened your t-shirts and went on with life like nothing had happened. You had always thought it was one of two things; either it meant nothing, or it had meant everything and the weight of the thought had rendered your tongue useless. Either way, the two of you had never mentioned dating, or sex, or relationship in front of the other. As if it was a silent pact. The fact that this pact was never officially made just confirmed that Wonwoo and you practically operated on the same braincells.

“It’s because you have never made a move! Jeon Wonwoo, how are girls supposed to get to know you if you never made a move?” Unlike a normal person, Jeon Wonwoo never thought other girls exist besides you. It was always you, he thought of. You’re the only person he would call if he got into a fight with his mom. You’re the only person that should know his in depth feelings about his classmates. You’re the only person he thought of for a date to a friend’s wedding. After all, you’re his best friend.

“It feels like we haven’t seen each other in years!” Soonyoung exclaimed. The way he inserts himself into conversations strangely feels familiar. Soonyoung has a presence that made you immediately felt embraced, and at ease. He kind of reminded you of Wonwoo that way. “It’s because we truly haven’t, moron! How are you doing? I see you’re still getting 0 luck with girls.” Wonwoo teased him. The way the two interacted, made you think of brothers who have been separated for too long. Soonyoug playfully slapped Wonwoo’s back and gulped down his champagne. “Aish, don’t go flexing on me now that you got yourself a beautiful girlfriend!” He said, gesturing to you who were just standing there.

“Me? I’m not his girlfriend! I would never! No offense to you though, Won.” A smile emerged on Wonwoo’s face. It is a running joke that you would never date Wonwoo, and vice versa. You once told him, “At this point, we’re practically twins!”

“None taken, my lady.” Wonwoo said, still with the smile on his face. “Oh! Thank god. I was about to give you a whole essay on why you should rethink your decision.” Soonyoung teased, winking at you. At that the three of you laughed. You’ve never met Wonwoo’s childhood friends before. But he had always assured you, they’re like family to him, so they should be family to you too.

You, Soonyoung, and Wonwoo took up a table of five, joined by Seungkwan, and Seokmin who just happened to know Seungcheol too. You gave Boo Seungkwan a kiss on the cheek, reminding him how much you missed him. Seungkwan and Seokmin was such a comedic duo, you couldn’t help but burst with laughter every five minutes or so. It was one of those days where you really enjoyed yourself.

Weddings were not particularly your type of events. Strangely though, weddings were always graced with a type of magic that you could sense through the air. It might be because of how weddings itself was supposed to be the strongest union of two individuals who loved each other endlessly, and sacred enough that it could only be broken through death. It could be because a wedding is the happiest moments of a person’s life. It could be because for everyone else who was invited, it was a chance to reunite with old friends, and families.

And that night, the magic poured on your cheeks like raindrops. That night, as you sat by Wonwoo’s side. Feeling strangely nervous for finally meeting Wonwoo’s friends, he held your hands so tight, as if it was a secret message. And the message reads; don’t worry, you’re safe. What’s crazy is how he never let go of your hand the entire night. It was an unspoken gesture, but it was there. Even when you have finally loosen up, and laughed along with Seungkwan and Seokmin, he still wouldn’t let go.

When Seungcheol came up to the stage, serenaded with lovely romantic tunes, and began to start his speech, an homage to his wife. The night began to descend into something you are not entirely sure of.

“If I was supposed to describe my wife in three words, I’m going to be at a loss of words. Because how do you even try to describe someone so attentive, so caring, so beautiful, entirely intelligent, possesses the kindest heart, with just three words? 

My wife has given me everything I thought I didn’t deserve.”

During that pause, Wonwoo clutched your hand a little bit tighter.

“I was not the least bit stable when I first met her. That is even an understatement. I was just a mess. I was all over the place. I was late on bills, I was fired from my previous two jobs, and worse, I preferred to be drunk than having to face any of that senseless reality.”

This time you clutched his hand tighter. At one point, you could feel your own breath flowing in and out of your lungs.

“But, my wife? She was like a god sent. She came into my life like the angel Gabriel. Gave me a sense of direction. Helped me get sober. Helped me find a place to live that was not my mother’s basement.” Seungcheol earned quite a number of chuckles at that. But if you look clearly, his wife’s, as well as his friend’s eyes were starting to brim with tears. It must’ve been a dark chapter in his life.

“This woman practically saved my life.”

You turned your head, to get a look at Wonwoo. He was still staring directly at the stage, there were bits of tear on his clear, perfect eyes. As you look at him, you were only reminded of one thing. That night at your place, where Wonwoo was basking in the moonlight. Tonight, it was as if he was the moonlight. His grip on your hands felt like a comfort, security. The way he had always made you feel.

“So, when they asked me to write an homage to the angel who I’m now proud to call my wife, I thought, ‘man, how am I supposed to do that?’”

Wonwoo must’ve felt your stares, because now he was looking at you. There was such tenderness in his eyes, that couldn’t be compared. You’ve never seen Wonwoo this way before. Like a godsent. There was only one time that almost, briefly mimics this moment. It was the day you two went to the beach, for the first time together. Wonwoo was staring straight into the sunset, the wind whipping his hair, the glow of the sunset framing his visage. The scene was so dreamy, you almost thought it didn’t happen.

“Man, I suck at this. I hope my wife isn’t disappointed.”

Again, Seungcheol earned a number of laughter at that. And from the looks of it, his wife isn’t in any how disappointed. There were visible tears running down her cheeks, threatening to undo her makeup.

“So, let’s all raise our glass.”

Wonwoo’s stares was like daggers in your heart. Threatening to undo a secret long unraveled.

“To the most beautiful woman, I have ever met.”

As Wonwoo was fixing his stare at you, everything seems to finally made sense. There has always been a reason why you fit him more than his favourite sweater. To the most beautiful woman, I have ever met, a sentence fit only for you.

“To the love of my life.”

Claps erupted from all around the venue. And when you knew, you knew.

[mimithings97]

How to Make Him Cum 101 (M)

Summary: You’ll love each other in sickness and health, hungover or hangry, sexless or… well, it’s becoming a little harder for the pants to stay on despite the calls of ‘let’s take this slow’ on the first date.

Pairing: Jungkook x Y/N

Genre: University AU, Smut, Fluff, Angst (tiny bit), Crack

Warnings: (Plenty my friend) Handjob, Fingering, Squirting, Sex without protection, Tongue fucking, Jungkook being whipped, Chocking (brief), Dry Humping, Jungkook cumming in his pants, lots of swearing, lots of alcohol consumption, consumption of weed

Word Count: 15k (it was meant to be 10k, but I fucked it)

A/N: I love Jungkook in this, he’s a sweetheart who has no fucking idea what he’s doing. Took me way too long to write this and I’m sorry if it drags, but I split it into little scenes to make it more manageable. It’s also pretty casual - no real storyline. Enjoy and suggestions always welcome x

“I swear to fuck, if he throws up my £2000 bourbon...” 

And by some miracle, neither the end of Taehyung’s sentence nor the £150 shot Namjoon halfheartedly threw back makes an appearance.

“Nah big man can handle his shit right Joon,” is the mere drunken support offered by Jimin. It’s also accompanied by an all-too heavy hand to the back that has the elder spluttering on air, the shot well and truly burning a hole in his stomach by now.

You observe from the distance of the kitchen, fortunately barricaded from the testosterone fest by the island and several misplaced sofas. It was Jimin’s idea to upgrade the sofa scheme to one that was more ‘drinking and smoking friendly’ so he liked to call it, taking a sufficient 30 minutes just to manoeuvre several pieces of furniture into a circle that centred around all too expensive liquors and cheap weed - the irony of the contrast had most certainly dawned on you. 

Your unexpected appearance to the gathering was on the account of boyfriends hazy state. He was all ‘come save me’ and ‘i’m dying’ over your texted conversation but upon arrival, the boy was all over that tequila bottle like he was downing chocolate milk. 

Despite your best intentions of remaining inconspicuous and merely Jungkook’s driver for the night went to shit when Jimin, unapologetic and somewhere between happily stoned and confident drunk demanded you join their escapades. 

“Booze or bud but not neither Y/N.” Nothing like a typical Taehyung to welcome you to the action.

“Well you didn’t say I couldn’t have both,” is your reply that’s laced with a brazen tone and paired with a smirk.

You’re met with Taehyung tonguing his cheek.

“That’s my girl,” Jungkook shouts mid-laugh and gives you a smack to the ass for good measure. You find comfort in the gesture, so following his drifting hand to the point that you settle in his lap.  

Jungkook must have drunk his weight in alcohol because it’s all touches from behind you, cold hands finding their way under cloth and onto warm skin, lips clamping down on your neck and teeth unforgiving on your ear lobe. Your boyfriend’s a modest guy even at worst, so his provoking actions are met with raised eyebrows on your behalf.

Slowly but surely, with the burn of smoke in your lungs and the even harsher burn of rich whiskey (because £2000 bourbon is a harsh no), Jungkook’s hands roam freely.

“Jesus mate, if you’d have fucked her the second time you would’ve had that pussy on hold, swear down.” Somewhere between your silent touches and unauthorized smoking of all of Namjoon’s weed, the conversation had delved into the topic of Jimin’s overly privileged sex life.

“That’s exactly what I said but the bitch pussied out,” Hobi pipes up from the corner where he’d faded away from being too legit faded - boy never could handle his smoke.

“Fuck off did I pussy ou-”

“Nahhh she had you whipped babe, that second shag wasn’t even on the cards,” you mouth speaks for you. Or more like your high speaks for you at this point.

You feel Kook smile into your shoulder from where his head was perched.

“This’ll be good,” it’s under Taehyung’s breath but not inaudible.

“Fuck do you mean, ‘she had me whipped’, she was all over me that night at Joon’s...” Jimin swigs mid-sentence, flushed from the buzz of liquor and his overly defensive tone, “had her wrapped around my little finger.”

… the opportunity was too good to miss.

“What little finger?” You refrain from laughing at your own remark for dramatic effect but Jungkook’s squeezing your sides and the lightness of your head betrays you. 

Jimin’s eye contact with your falters as if his ego broken, and the others pass around comments along the lines of ‘fucking brilliant’ and ‘unlucky mate’. 

You take a final drag before passing it behind you to the already seeking hand of your boyfriend who’s still amused by your smart-mouth.

“Jimin, I’m just saying,” you elaborate in hopes of restoring his cracked masculinity somewhat, “from what Stephanie told me, Mina had four guys on hold at that party and wasn’t inclined to let any of them stick in on her cos she’s got a full-on guy waiting for her away from uni.”

He huffs, throwing himself and his bottle backwards onto the sofa, causing it to slosh around and out. You peer over at Taehyung, waiting for the boy to morph into an expression of disgust because god knows, this sofa cover costs more than your rent, but he never does - eyes glazed and a small smile instead.

“Fucking brilliant, I was fifth on a girls ‘need to shag’ list.” You almost feel bad for the sod, but one thing Jimin could never do was keep his mouth shut when it needed to be. “At least I’m doing better than you, Y/N, you can’t even get a fuck off your boyfriend and you’ve been together for months.” 

Taehyung’s smile drifts, Hobi shifts in his seat and Jungkook stiffens from behind you - the air dries up.

“Jimin, mate, come on,” Joon tries to reason, but as per usual Jimin keeps his mouth moving.

“I said what I said.”

Yeh, he sure fucking did. And if one thing was known to be uncharted conversation between the lot of you, then that was your and Jungkook’s abstinence. But in true style, Jimin just had to pry.

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

“Fuck it, maybe we should just have sex,” he finally says as you stall over wiping off your eyeliner to laugh at his exasperation. Jungkook wasn’t insecure but he was easily influenced when something hurt his pride - and you could tell, from Jimin’s comment, throughout the awkward air that lingered in the car, to just now, that he had been stewing on the dent to his ego from the moment it was spoken. 

You want to tell him with all the sarcasm in the world how ‘romantic’ he’s being about it all, but you refrain to save further damage.

“Kook-”

“Nah, seriously Y/N, I’m tired of this shit…” you want to diffuse his state, but he persists, “and- I don’t really know what I’m waiting on now.”

“Baby,” you finally get a grip on his attention as he lets out a huff and welcomes you onto his lap. “You’ve had your reasons to wait on this, I’ve always respected that. But…” he groans and you lean into him as a warning to let you finish, “buttt, I’m not gonna respect any shit when you’re letting Jimin decide for you. Just cos the boy can’t get his dick wet doesn’t mean you have to.”

You feel him snicker against your shoulder as he lowers his head in frustration.

“You do this on your own time. Not mine,” you weave your fingers through his locks and anchor him to you, “not Jimin’s, not anyone but yours,” and finalise your sentiment by situating your lips on his temple.

With eyes fluttering shut into your touch and a heavy breath out he indulges in his insecurity. “I just can’t afford to lose you.” And you know it takes his booze-filled conscience to let you in.

You have to admit that there was some level of hurt you managed to hide at this point. That even after relishing in one another's company for 5 months, Jungkook still couldn’t find it in himself to trust you in that way. It was a mental thing, an emotional instinct of too many failed relationships where he was a victim to being cheated on, left after being used for sex and prayed on for good looks and unfortunate vulnerability. You knew within yourself you would never and could never do what so many have done before you. Fuck, you couldn’t even see yourself being sane and capable without him, ever, period. For that, you respected his decision - whilst frustratingly prolonged - because you knew he was worth the wait.

“I need you just as much as you need me.” You sense the slump in his shoulders, the heaviness of too many pressures and burdens weighing them down. That and his drug-induced state causing unwanted fatigue. “Hmm?” So you lift his chin and search his eyes till they meet yours, passing on a reassurance that he finally accepts with a curt nod.

“Yeh, I know.” 

You press a kiss, or two to his lips and lean back to raise an eyebrow at him.

“Now are you gonna keep sulking to yourself like a bitch or let me make you cum?” His instant response is his eyes blowing out in shock of your statement before laughing into your chest. You know him well enough that he is using your chest to hide the blush in his cheeks but you don’t mention it. 

Instead, you wiggle your hips with no subtlety into the twitch of his groin that seeks your mouth so desperately, laughing when he grabs you at the cheeks and pulls you away to say, “You’re fucking mental.” But against his lips you can’t help the, “-Nd you love me for it,” that is mumbled.

Yeah, this boy was definitely worth the wait.

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

Weekends seem to roll around at a quickening pace when you have a needy boyfriend and even more demanding party schedule to fill the gaps. And by some freak of nature, you hadn’t managed to drop your education off a cliff in the meantime - in fact, you had begun to make a living off having beer in one hand and highlighter in the other.

University wasn’t a walk in the park, but you’d been enough of a devoted intellect in your first two years of it to allow yourself to drop off the map a little. So, after becoming a co-captain of the swim team somewhere into your second year, it was only a natural, human instinct kind of reaction that your fellow captain, the hunk of abs who graced poolside, would slip a few too many flirty remarks at you before you called him your boyfriend. He’d pined and you’d fallen - simple as.

He came with baggage though. Six boys and a whole lot of booze and weed. You were no saint before Jungkook, hell, you almost weren’t allowed swim captain because you’d slept in one too many of the guys beds. But as soon as you’d said ‘yes’ to the going out for drinks invitation he offered, you had also said ‘yes’ to the party on Saturday at Hoseok’s, and the one on Sunday down at the river, and for every weekend for the next 5 months. And slowly but surely, it was no longer, ‘this is my girlfriend’ as an introduction, but you asking the familiar face around the party with all urgency where the nearest bottle of tequila was.

It’s also how you’d landed yourself filthily hungover in your Monday lecture, listening to Professor Snape (nah, it’s his real name and all) with a noticeable shake in your hand and last nights mascara somewhere down your face. 

“If you look that shit, then what the hell does Kook look like.” Mina, the best friend, the only one allowed to hold back your hair whilst you would throw up in a second-floor bathroom, and the roommate who made student life just a bit more bearable than the shit show it was.

She takes the seat next to you, her question probably rhetorical but you make the effort to reply, all the same.

“Still asleep in the bathtub I reckon.” Ah, yes, the boyfriend. At somewhere between 1 in the morning and blackout drunk you, Jungkook and your infamous competitiveness called for beer pong - minus the beer, add the vodka. So it was only gonna be a certain amount of time before both you and him were pushed into a cab on top of one another and drafted back to his flat so he could throw up in his bathtub. 

“Jesus,” Mina mutters with a laugh, probably just relieved someone ordered your taxi to go to his and not your shared apartment - like hell was she listening to Jungkook throw up at 5 in the morning.

“Honestly, why does Yoongi host that shit on Sunday,” you groan into your laptop, turning down the brightness because you can already feel the afternoon hangover headache arising. 

“He doesn’t have a 9am like the rest of us.”

“Fucker.” 

Good host though, Yoongi. A postgrad, with his own two-storey apartment and too much time on his hands. You’d known him before the boyfriend too, working shifts with him in your first year at a music production company, both in the catering section because you had time to fill and tuition to pay and he was hoping to find his break into the industry. He fucked it though and has ended up with some crazy paid apprenticeship at a financial branch in the city centre. 

“Oi, Bob’s this weekend?” Mina poses the question as the lights brighten in the lecture room and everyone starts shutting laptops - yours was shut ten minutes ago when you stopped listening and started wallowing in self-pity.

“Bob’s?” Bermuda Bobs. A club in the centre of town, and somewhat of a regular for Friday nights, when Hoseok had had just about enough of hosting. “Yeh. Yeh, I can do Bobs.”

Mina’s up and off before you can even open the zip on your bag, something about she’ll miss her lift to training, but you mumble that you’ll see her at the apartment later before you can see the back of her head. 

All you can think as you conquer the steps to the exit of the hall is how much of a blessing a shower and a cup of tea would be - ‘so easily pleased’ Mina would say. So, when you look up from your phone to see Jungkook opposite where you walk out, a cup of tea in hand, you might just believe in fate.

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” he says, throat hoarse as he takes you bag from your shoulder and places the coffee into your welcoming hands. You laugh at him, a snort because it’s ironic considering the bloodshot eyes and beer-stained hair he sports.

“You were passed out in the bath legit an hour ago,” his hand finds yours despite your teasing and when you finally take the first sip of tea as you walk, anyone would think the noise you made was nothing short of an orgasm - Jungkook certainly takes notice. “Did you bring the car?” 

He snorts, “Like fuck did I bring the car, I’m still drunk.”

“Babbbyy,” it’s a whine as you throw your head back and pull his hand to make your point into a tantrum. 

“It’s literally a 5 minute walk babe, suck it up.” He continues ahead, but you go full 5 year old tactics on him, stopping in your tracks and whacking on your face the biggest pout your lips will allow.

He merely rolls his eyes and kisses it away before presenting his back to you, arms out, legs bent and you hop onto him like the spoilt girlfriend you are.

“You’re a brat, you know that.” Is all he says as he starts the walk out of the building and towards his, so you kiss behind his ear. 

“Mmm, call me that again, it kinda turns me on.”

“Fucking filty,” but you see the crinkle in his eyes that lets you know that he loves you for it.

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

Friday nights roll around quicker than you know when Bob’s is calling. They start earlier than most nights as well - lecture leads to swim training, swim training calls for afternoon drinks at Warehouse and then Warehouse blurs into Pre’s that blurs into Bob’s. 

So with beer curdling in your stomach, trying to flick the wing of your eyeliner and failing for the fifteenth time is as funny as Jimin’s pinkie to you and Mina. 

She is, of course, ready. Has been for almost 2 hours, so whilst you struggle to slip into your dress, she finishes your eyeliner for you.

The buzz of your phone has both of you looking to the vibrating device in confusion, having to double-take with each other because the taxi isn’t supposed to be here until Jungkook is and he isn’t supposed to be here for another half an hour. 

Your fumbling with a zip so it’s Mina who reaches for it, and when the screen lights her face, her features go from confused to ‘for fucks sake’ in less than a second. She turns it and that god awful photo of Jungkook and his swimming goggles on lights up the display. 

“I’ll get the door.” She’s exasperated. He’s early and she can’t stand that - all it took was him showing up at the wrong time on a Wednesday whilst she was naked on the sofa with a girl between her legs that caused the ‘come when you’re fucking asked to come’ attitude - poor boy didn’t even know she was gay.

You do a once over in the mirror before the door swings open, Mina has a scowl but your boyfriend has a lime in one hand and tequila in the other, so you don’t care.

“Shit, you look hot,” Fuck, so does he, but he’s pressing a kiss to your lips before you can drink him in fully, “s’that dress new?”

“I did the makeup, thank me.” Mina was always loud, and speaking at the wrong places and in the wrong conversations. 

“Kindly fuck off, you did the eyeliner and shit all else.” You turn back to Kook, now leaning against your wall, eyes still trained on you, or at least, your legs, and he looks fucking thirsty that’s for sure. “And yeh, got it when I went in the city the other week.” He replies with a nod and a smirk. Those damn bedroom eyes, they hold your gaze, as you fiddle with the clasp on the side of your dress. 

Mine pipes up from the sidelines, “God, it’s like I’m watching a fucking mating ritual or something.” Jungkook scoffs and his shoulders ease as though he’s calming himself down, “Well, I’m ready so shots it is.” She grabs the bottle of tequila from Jungkook’s hand and is off into the kitchen without looking back.

“Who put a foot up her ass then?” He only says it once the door is closed, knowing he’ll get a whacking if Mina heard him, so you scowl at him, albeit through a smile.

“Oi, watch it,” you’re in front of him now, leaning into the arm he stretched out to embrace you in.

“Sorry,” and he means it. He genuinely likes Mina, you’re sure of it, but they go at each other like cats in an alley when you’re not there to referee it.

He’s warm around you, his shirt with buttons undone at the top so that the cologne he’s wearing goes right to your head - and to your core - either one. The proximity does the same to him as he takes a handful of your ass, groping so that when you gasp and try to pull away, he administers a slap. 

You can’t deny you’re horny for him, and the way his trousers frame his bulge perfectly - you lick your lips subconsciously at the thought - but you can almost hear the sadness of Mina pouring and downing Tequila shots by herself.

“Fucker,” you whisper and lean out of his hold almost, only to see that fire in his eyes. 

“I love this ass,” hands now sneaking underneath the fabric of your dress - like it was covering much anyway, but that doesn’t change the way his cold fingers spread across your behind and almost make you moan out. It’s when he takes your bottom lip in his teeth and pulls back agonizing slowly until it pops back into place that the moan you were stifling releases, slowly, seductively, and his crotch stirs at the thought of you making the same noise around his dick. 

But if Kook can restrain himself enough into denying you a fuck for 5 months, then you can be just as disciplined now - whether the wetness on your thighs tells you something different or not.

You toy with him though.

At a pace nothing short of tormenting, you lean your leg into the space between his, drag your lips across his cheek to his ear and let your fingers draw a line from the gap in his shirt, underneath and across his chest, “But you know what’s better than this ass, baby?” You play the seductress with you voice, and you know it does bits to him. 

Your question was rhetoric, but when he doesn’t reply, you can’t help but grab at his belt with a hand and tug his crotch into your leg. He sputters out breathily into your neck, “W-what?”

You lean back, wait for his eyes to open and gage the lust and excitement brewing within them before opening your mouth against his…

“...Tequila shots.” You smack his thigh, turn and are out the door before his erection can say ‘shit’.

Two can play at his game of denial. 

Your all kinds of worked up despite your best efforts, but Mina’s got lime in her mouth and her face crinkled into an expression of disgust as you eye the empty shot glass on the counter, so it’s not like she’s gonna be sniffing out your hormones any time soon. 

“Fucking shit, rancid, I hate it, don’t wanna drink ever, absolutely not,” you laugh at her outburst as you refill her shot glass for yourself. 

“Lightweight,” you tease her as you throw it all back, wincing internally as you feel the hole burn in your throat, but suck it up for the sake of your competitive streak. She merely scoffs at you as the bedroom door swings open, Jungkook - still a fine piece of ass right now - tucking his shirt into his trousers. No way did he just finish himself off in that time, but your eyes travel down to his hard on that is very much still there. You can’t help the smirk.

“Kook, get your shot down you then we’re off,” Mina announces.

“Taxi here already?” he questions but she shakes her head as she now sports a wine bottle in her hand, and clearly a mouth full of wine as she fails to verbalise. 

Shots are down, wine is drunk, and heads are well and truly dizzy when you reach the club. The cab was early much to Mina’s dismay, but that didn’t stop her from grabbing the tequila bottle from Jungkook and downing a healthy portion of the liquid before collapsing in instant regret - ‘we’ve all been there Min’ was your only advice. As for Jungkook. Well, the boy never showed when he was drunk until he would take his shirt off and shout he was wasted, so the only way you could gauge his state was by the way his fingers dug into your thigh the entire journey - you just couldn’t work out whether it was the alcohol or his dick talking.

“Y/NNN!” you hear before see Jimin, despite the music that reverberates through the floor and up your body. As always, he has bottle in hand and a girl in the other, but he releases her to embrace you.

It’s a love, hate with Jimin, but he was Jungkook’s best friend, so there was and could not be bad blood between the two of you - much the same to Jungkook and Mina. Jimin swam as well, so you were no strangers to sharing situations that required great comfort with one alone - such as you in a swimming costume and him in his damn speedos. There was only one thing better than Jimin in speedos though, and that was Jungkook in speedos.

“Where’s your boyfriend, he owes me a fucking drink,” and you point to the bar, where he leans over the counter in all his glory and much to the fortune of your eyes. Jimin escorts himself and the girl he’s with over to the bar before you can catch her name - she’s pretty, though, which is no surprise with Jimin’s taste. 

It takes the next 30 minutes, or possibly longer because alcohol tends to blur hours to minutes before you’ve made conversation with everyone there. It’s almost admin now, having to do the rounds when all the people from swimming go out - a swim captain apparently has certain obligations of seeing everyone had a drink in hand and a ride to go home in. Kook was doing the same too, across the club, slowly but surely making his way towards you as he talked to some of the guys. He’d winked one too many times at you for it to be coincidence, and the alcohol you’d been consuming was screaming out to you now to fuck the pointless conversation and grind on your damn fit boyfriend.

“Fuck Josh, Mel, the boy can’t even get it up, and you’re too much of a hot piece of ass to waste on him,” Mina’s on one of her motivational talks with the social sec, Mel - absolute sweetheart, heart of gold and awful taste in men. Also the subject of Mina’s subconscious flirting for the last hour or so, but you don’t have the heart to tell Mina to stop - she’s drunk and probably horny knowing her.

“Y/N,” you’re face first in your vodka red bull (double), to hear Mina, having zoned out from her pining after she started getting emotional. “Y/N!” You finally ease up on the drink when you hear her this time. 

“Hmm?” mouth half full.

“Have you ever seen someone get eye fucked?” Her eyes flicker from you to something else, but you’re too caught up in the absurdity of her question to notice.

“The fuck?”

“Because I’m watching it happen right now,” and it’s a nod that finally directs your questioning gaze away from your best friend and to a figure at the bar, elbows tucked behind him, a bottle of beer at his side, legs to die for and eyes boring right into yours. He’s playing dirty tonight, is all you think. So despite the way your core tightens and the hair on your neck unknowingly rises, you feed into his game, the cat and mouse kind of thing he seems to be grabbing at, and put up your facade.

You're slow to get to him, but it’s deliberate. And instead of giving in to his gaze or his touch, you place your feet right beside his, leaning towards the bar and into the sight of the bartender. 

It’s the raise of her eyebrows at you and the curt smile that prompts you to talk, “two shots of tequila please,” she begins to spin but you stop her, “oh, and plenty of salt and lime.” 

It takes physical energy not to give in to human instinct - to touch and to grab him, to let go of the role play. 

“Anyone would think you’re ordering for two,” his voice is gravely, and fuck if it doesn’t shoot straight down you. But his comment makes you smile, smirk actually.

“You say that as if I can’t handle my alcohol,” you raise an eyebrow to yourself, still feigning your confidence by not looking his way.

Two shots are lined up in front of you, limes perched on top, and a generously filled salt shaker to the left of them. 

“Well tequila is a dangerous game to play,” you pick up either shot in your hand, and fight the urge to shiver as his words that are breathed against your ear. You round from the side of him, eyes finally lifting to his and filling some void that was there, but by no means lifting any tension between the two of you.

“Then let’s play dangerously,” you say, eyes sultry and him waiting on your every move, “the first one to have their salt, their shot and their lime gone first is the winner..” 

“And what does the winning get?” Damn, he’s eager.

You lean in, but still don’t touch. “That’s for the winner to know, and the loser to find out.” 

You can see a vague pick up in his breathing, a sheen of sweat forming against his brow and a vague smirk pulling at the edges of his mouth. Lifting the lime off your shot, he almost proceeds to do the same, about to take the shot to his lips but you stop him, instead pushing your shot into his vacant hand. The only explanation offered is when you take your lime down the column of your throat and down to your cleavage, before reaching to the salt that’s behind him. You pour a small mound of it onto your finger and follow the path that the lime drew. He eyes you like artwork, and doesn’t lift his gaze from your cleavage where you nestle the lime. 

You pour more salt onto your forefinger, and his eyes finally lift in an expression of confusion, but words evade him - hell, he hasn’t taken a solid breath for the past minute. Slowly, tourturningly, you lean into him, carefully avoiding his shot, and catch his breath hitching as you press the point of your tongue into the base of his neck, dragging it upwards until you meet his jaw. You almost couldn’t stop yourself from proceeding further, drinking in the salty taste of him and eating away at his sanity with your tongue - but you refrain, all in the name of dramatic effect.

“Fuck,” is all he says as he keeps his breath hitched, and you push your finger down the line your tongue drew, spreading salt southwards.

He almost looks tapped out when you take his lime from between you, eyes completely glazed, and fortunately for you they blow out even further when you tug the belt of his trousers and place your lime in the waistband - like his erection wouldn’t have held it up anyways.

Retrieving one of the shots from his grasp, where his knuckles had turned white against the glass, you hold his gaze.

“I think you should go ahead,” you’re more breathy than you realised, even despite it being your game.

“I-I thought,” he has to clear his throat, “it’s who can do it the fastest,” it’s barely even a question with how quiet he mumbled the words - you’re not even sure he knew what he was saying.

“Who said I wanted to win, baby?” And he lets out a moan, a full blown moan before he encases your throat with his mouth, and he’s almost animalistic in the way he growls against your skin at the taste. He bites down when he reaches just above the lime and your eyes roll back unconsciously before opening to see him throw his head back with the shot, not a single wince in his eyes because they are so driven by desire. The shot glass is slammed behind him before he dives into your cleavage to retrieve the lime, and in some display of masculinity that almost has you keening he rips the lime from his mouth and tosses it behind you, juice rolling down his face and onto his jaw to linger with the line of salt that glistens there.

You don’t even realise you're on his throat until the overly salty taste pricks your mouth and you can feel his jaw tense beneath you. You're almost in a haze when the tequila sets your throat ablaze but you become fully conscious of the way he grabs a fistful of your hair, pushes you to the floor until your dress bunches and has you sucking at the lime that rests mockingly above his hard cock. 

By some miracle you find yourself back up at eye level, chests heaving to the point of almost touching, and if you didn’t have a lime in your mouth right now you’d either be swearing obscenely in some gesture of saying ‘your so fucking hot’ or your lips would be around his dick.

With a gulp and a tilt of his head backwards, he gains a level of composure that allows him to ease the lime from your lips with his fingers, letting them brush at your skin to have you shivering.

It’s almost comical the way you both pant, eyes ablaze in each others, and completely oblivious to the outside world and how many, way too many people have seen your display. But there is nothing but the burn in your bodies right now as he grabs your hand wordlessly and drags you as fast as your heels will allow. 

It’s like a switch had flipped in him somewhere back there. Even if this whole thing was roleplay, at least you knew how to play it with your boyfriend back there, knew the way he ticks and what would make his cock twitch - Jungkook’s normally easy to read like that. But when he almost breaks the disabled toilet door down with his hand, there is no game left to play - the restraints are off and the fire of lustful rage is fueled.

“You-” he slams you back against the door before its even swung shut and you can get a single word in. It’s carnal the way he’s latching onto your mouth, grabbing your hands that try to clasp at his neck and throw them up next to your head, and shoves a knee between your sopping thighs.

“I almost fucking came in my trousers back there when you got on your knees,” you don’t think you’ve ever heard his voice so low and rough before but it courses through you more than the heavy bass of the club music. “You had me stood there ready to fuck your mouth open, but you thought you’d fucking tease your way through it.”  

He’s domineering and your completely and utterly keening for it. Even more so when the grip he has on your wrist tightens and brings it down to his crotch, forcing your latch onto the erection that strains sinfully, painfully in his trousers and you feel intimidated enough at his display that you don’t palm him, don’t give him a pleasureful squeeze like you normally would when you had more control of your emotions. But you're shocked and fucked out - beyond that even.

“You feel that shit. Fuck, I’ve never been this hard before,” you moan out lowly, finding it increasingly difficult to control your breathing, the nature of the lust in your body calling out for some friction on your body. But he stands there, eyes ablaze, panting his taunting remarks into your agape mouth. “You’re making it so damn hard not to fuck you.”

“Do it,” you whisper without even knowing and neither does Jungkook because the ringing in both of your ears is deafening.

“I’ve always wanted to see you fall apart around my cock… lose it as I fuck you,” his crotch starts riveting into your hand and you know he’s imaging what it would feel like with his dick nestled deep in your walls right now, “God I want to pound into you.”

“Fuck.”

Fuck, because never have his words been so dirty before.

“You’re so damn hot I actually can’t control myself right now,” and his dick follows his words. Your hand now acts as your pussy - in his head anyway - as the friction of his trousers begins sending him neck deep in pleasure. 

You actually think you could come from watching it. How his head now bows into your neck and his teeth set into your skin because he can’t even control how slack his jaw has become. The way he’s getting harder and harder against your hand and his movements are constantly seeking more. Fucking hell, you’re both fully clothed, his dicks rock hard in his pants but he’s so pent up on you and the desire you’ve caused that he’s chasing an orgasm basically untouched. 

“I- oh fuck.”

“Come on baby,” you feed him, words moaned against his ear and hand flattening more purposefully against him, “fuck me harder.”

“Argh- fuc-fucking hell,” he’s spurred on by the illusion you offer. His eyes rolled back in his head as he imagines the feeling of being balls deep in you. 

“Think how good I’d feel. Fuck, you’d be so deep uhh,” you moan out at the end as the harshness of the way his hips snap into yours causes your hand nestled between you to deliciously rub on your clit. 

You hadn’t realised that your dress had ridden up in the commotion of you sex driven states, that your ass was pressed up against the cool surface and gave you goosebumps despite the way you body oozes heat, that you panties were so wrecked by your arousal that your hand might as well be rubbing you raw. And with Jungkook’s quickening pace, the friction against your clit makes you all too driven to seek your end as well as his. It’s filthy.

“Ko-uh. Fuck, Kook, I need you fingers- ah,” your walls are throbbing at the thought, but his teeth remain deep set in the junction between your neck and shoulder, his hips still thrusting up and into your hand, so you think you’re desire has gone unheard.

But all too quickly, he forgets the end he was chasing. 

Suddenly, he backs away from you, leaving you untouched and leaning forward into the air, whilst his cock screams in the confines of his trousers. He growls at the way he had to stop himself from cumming too soon.

“Baby,” it’s a whine from the back of your throat that you had no plan to release. But the way your chest heaves and your thighs cross one another for friction just spells to you and him just how inflamed your body is. 

His eyes move away from your desperate ones, and his neck reclines back as he swallows - trying with all his strength to keep it together, to not cum from merely watching your cleavage, drenched in his and your sweat, rise and fall with the way your breathing staggers. Watching him is torture for yourself, but you don’t want to miss the way his cock throbs. 

You have no idea how long you’re there, him grappling at his sanity and you watching him.

“Baby, I-”

“Fuck, don’t talk,” his face almost contorts in pain and his head lowers into his chest to halt his urge to look at you. 

But, you’re horny and you're a brat, so you persist.

“Jungkook, I need you right now.”

Silence falls for a mere second.

Like a man possessed he lunges back towards your body, and before you can react he’s on his knees violently pushing the thin fabric of your dress up and ripping your panties down your legs.

“What don’t you understand about shut the fuck up.” And with that he’s on your clit, hands shoving your legs in opposite directions and over his shoulders so you lose your balance and end up speared on his tongue.

“Kook!” It’s a cry that’s shouted into the air when your head is thrown back - a reaction to both the immense feeling that tightens at your core and a warning to the man below you that you might just crush him.

But he’s devouring your pussy whole. He’s no longer tending to your clit, but lapping his tongue up and down the entire expanse of your slit, letting the muscle of his tongue slip into your entrance making your stomach drop every time. He’s hellbent on making you cum that’s for sure, because no matter the tug of your hands at his scalp to let up even just a little, he’s growling into you and plunging deeper. 

You want to pull away, to finally take a break from the intense pressure on your core or maybe to breathe for the first time since he decided to drop to his knees. But you’re feet don’t touch the ground, literally, and he’s suspending you on his tongue. 

His hands push you down further onto him and he growls into you, vibrations coursing through you that almost makes you cum then and there. But he breaks away.

“Fuck,” he sounds fucked out himself, taking in all the air he can, because god knows he was eating your pussy like it was oxygen. “Baby, you gotta cum on my tongue, please.” 

He was the one eating you out, yet you had him pleading. Boy always did submit in the end, whether he liked it or not.

“Fingers then. Use your fingers,” and he obeys, releasing your thigh in favour of thrusting two of his digits deep into you. All your weight goes onto his shoulders and the two fingers set so far into your womb that you were crying out in pleasure. It wasn’t until his mouth resumed sucking on your clit that you lost all control of your tongue and rambled into the air like a mad woman. 

“F-Fuckkk Kook. I want ah- fuck I want your cum inside me. I want your dick so bad,” he’s moaning with you and with your words, being spurred on by the image you paint. He curls his fingers deep inside you, and you lose yourself on the feeling - being so stimulated that you miss the fact you’re grinding on his face, thrusting up as if his fingers were really his cock. He’s moaning at it, at the way your pace picks up on his tongue and you’re seeking your end.

“Don’t stop, oh fuck, oh fuck, please- don’t stop.”

You’re driving yourself deeper and deeper into him and fuckkk if the pleasure hasn’t taken over your senses beyond belief. Your stomach pulls so tight with the need to release that you’re grappling at the strands of hair on the back of your boyfriend’s head and using them to anchor yourself. He’s purely a mouth and two fingers to fuck yourself on at this moment and you couldn’t stop yourself even if you tried.

“Shit, fuckk,” his fingers start going at a rate, not even your hips can keep up with, and he’s so deep you almost choke like the pressure inside you has reached up into your throat.

“Come on baby, fuck,” his gravelly voice seeks out for you to come all over him.

“Holy fuckin-” the feeling comes on so intense inside of you that you struggle to warn him, your breathing constricted almost into nothingness. You feel like you’re about to cum with such strength that you might die.

“I can’t Kook- oh fuckk.”

“Give it to me.”

His teeth clamp down on your clit at the same time as his fingers curl against that spot inside you that suddenly has everything spiralling at once. 

“Don’t stoppp, don’t stop, oh fuck,” you sputter into the air as a band snaps in your lower stomach, blood pumping everywhere and anywhere in your body so that your hips begin spasming and convulsing on top of his mouth. 

He whines into you as his mouth keep fastening all too strongly against your bud. It’s when the pressure that keeps falling in your stomach and Kook is forced to pull his fingers out of you that you feel your juices spill and keep spilling all over you and him.

“Holy fuck baby… Y/N shit.”

You tumble further and further and miss the noises that are pushed from your throat. In the intensity of the pleasure you also miss the way Jungkook’s body, his tongue on your clit, his fingers on your thigh and the ones lodged deep inside you, all tense up. 

Shit.

You wonder if you’ve blacked out when the slump of your body takes over, the eventual air you take in in one large breath making your senses begin to come back all too strong. You’re broken from the waist down, legs numb to the point you can barely feel Jungkook’s teeth tight on your thigh and breath glazing the skin strongly. Shit, you can’t even feel how wet you are yet.

You know the weight he’s bearing on his shoulders, but you can’t muster the strength to move, merely loosening your hands from how tight they were wound in his locks and instead soothing down to his neck with your trembling fingers. 

Finally, the spin in your head stops and your eyes are open enough so that you can look down at the sight below you.

He’s breathless and wet. Wet from sweat and the way you’d just squirted all over his tongue, fingers and trousers - well that’s what you figure anyways. His eyes are sewn shut though in the aftermath of it all, and your thoughts begin to piece together.

“Baby, you good?” you’re scared he has too much literal weight on his shoulders. You’re also scared he’s still painfully hard. “Kook?” and finally a coherent mumble of ‘yeh’ against your thigh tells you, no, you didn’t just kill your boyfriend by cumming on his face.

It’s a slow process the way he lets your legs down, and you wince as he does so because you swear his fingers just split you open. You also forgot about the heels practically taped to your feet, stumbling a little one foot at a time as he lowers you off his shoulders.

His eyelids still hang low, and he makes no move to join you at eye level, instead, pressing his face into your thigh and running his ragged breath there for too long. 

“Fuck, seriously, you good baby?” your pussy still throbs, but your boyfriend is too still for you to take notice.

And suddenly he’s laughing. Wholeheartedly laughing into your skin, back, that’s slicked with sweat, raising up and down as he does so.

“Shit,” is all he says when his eyes, crinkled in laughter and exhaustion finally meet yours, peering up from his squat. It’s infectious and has you laughing too, albeit half heartedly because your throat hurts and you’re not sure if your lungs can take much more unnatural breathing.

“You literally just made me cum in my pants.”

Fuck. You’re eyes bulge and pass between the look of disbelief of his face, to the, now, very noticeable stain on his crotch, and back again. Boy literally just came untouched because you can still feel the imprint of one hand on your thigh and you’re pretty sure the other hand was occupied if you remember correctly.

“What the fuck!” Is all you can say.

“Yeh, I know ‘what the fuck!’ Sorry but since when could you squirt.” His legs are still shaking beneath him. “It made me just fucking shoot my load on sight.”

You’re laughing, bending at the waist to help the poor boy up to his feet, and he accepts the help as he finally towers over you and meets your eyes - both looking at each other with warmth and a vague emotion of disbelief, because as if he just came in his pants!

“Seriously, don’t know what the hell you just did to me, but I don’t think I’ll ever be that turned on ever in my life again,” he’s sputtering out now like a boy charged on drained hormones and ageing drunkness. 

You laugh at his state and the way his eyes still bulge, grabbing the skin of his neck that’s thick with sweat and push a kiss to his lips. It doesn’t linger because you’re too spent and oxygen is like gold dust to you right now.

“So you enjoyed yourself I’m guessing?”

“Fucking hell did I!” You both can’t stop the way your laughter spills at the situation. 

You see his shoulders eventually relax, his breathing less frequent and the look in his eyes turns soft. 

“Fuck, I’m so in love with you.” Despite your heart still beating like it’s on steroids, you feel it skip a beat, equal to the way you can’t help the tug on the corners of your mouth. 

“Cringy bastard,” you whisper next to his lips, a whole new warmth spreading through you at the way his eyes are filled with adoration.

“Only for you.”

“You make me sick.” But in your head, you’re saying the opposite, because you can’t fight the blush despite how generic his cringe worthy compliments hit.

With clothes vaguely realigned, you’re ready to join society once again, albeit hobbling, but your boyfriend refuses to break the bubble you’re in for just a second longer.

“Say it back.” And when you turn from the door to him, he’s actually pouting, eyes a little less bright as though you’re unspoken words have hit harder than you realised. “Please.”

Your relationship with Kook was built off backhanded compliments and competitive sarcasm, both equally easy-going people with a knack for not taking anything seriously. It was how you two worked. But there’s some things you can’t feign, and the way he said “I love you” with deliberate sadness was one of those things, because hell, you sure loved him too.

His cheeks nestled in both of your palms now as your soft eyes met his ones, vulnerable with the way he’d bared himself and pleaded after you, you spoke softly.

“I love you.”

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

“Fuck you, Kook. Stop acting like you own me.”

“Then don’t try to sleep with the whole swim team.”

Dick.

This shit is rare. Fighting Jungkook is rare. But that doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen. Because whilst you’re both too easy going for your own good and take most things on the chin, jealousy hurts like a bitch. 

“Jesus you’re fucking testing my patience.” You settle yourself deep in his kitchen, long strides over there because his presence alone is making you want to rip hairs out of your skull. But he’s there soon after, leaning to try to get into your line of sight as you busy yourself with a glass and fuck, where’s that bottle of wine.

“Nah, don’t act like I’m pushing you. I asked you why Jimin’s asking to meet you, and you can’t come up with a damn straight answer or show me your phone.” You find the wine in the fridge, pretending Jungkook is background noise like the petty bitch you are, but his words are ringing in your head louder than you care for. “Don’t treat me like I’m delusional.” 

You slam the bottle down a little too hard on the counter and his eyes jump to the sound. But your expression is dead set, angry, persistent, but he’d say stubborn.

“You’re actually dumb. The whole fucking issue is that I shouldn’t have to tell you why someone texts me or not.” His mouth opens to argue but you’re off on one, “Whether it’s Jimin, whether it’s my mum, whether it was your fucking maintenance guy, it’s my phone, don’t check it, and don’t pretend you’re entitled to.” 

His eyes narrow and you almost think there’s something in him contemplating your words, maybe, just maybe trying to hear you out and understand where you’re coming from. But if you were stubborn, then Jungkook was competitive - he wouldn't stop until you thought he was right.

“Why the fuck did he text you.”

You want to scream. You want to smash his glass against the floor and scream fucking murder. But instead you find your body tensing and you face heating up with the need to cry. He’s getting in your head and you hate it, because he’s never like this. He’s easy. He’s such good company and probably your best friend but why is he making it so hard to like, let alone love him right now.

“Fuck it. Here,” you fish in your pocket, eyes still on his despite the feeling of them heating up and the wetness pooling. You unlock your phone and push it to his chest. “God knows, we were just trying to arrange something for your birthday without you finding out, but you and your fucking jealousy can’t take that, can they Kook?”

You have so much more to say. Your head is spinning with the need to empty your gut of all the words you want to throw at him. About how jealousy is certainly not a virtue in this case, about how you can’t bear that he doesn’t trust you despite all you’ve given up for him, about how damn unfair he is being right now. But you hit his shoulder with yours and are half walking half running to his bathroom before you can contemplate what you’re doing.

“Y/N, fuck,” and of course now he’s apologetic. Calling after you in a tone that screams innocence but to you, he is anything but that right now.

You close the door with haste and push your back against it even faster. 

The worst part is you’re not even that angry anymore. The tears fall in sadness. 

“Baby,” his knock rattles the door but only gently in an attempt to be sensitive with you. He’s fucked up and he knows that, but there’s a combination of not wanting him to see you cry and the need to be away from him for a minute that has you still sitting by the door, not making any attempt to open it.

“Baby, I didn’t know- I wouldn’t have.”

“Jungkook can you give it a rest for one minute,” you sound pained. You feel it as well. Maybe you’re overreacting, you think, as you hear him sigh and mumble an ‘okay’ before his footsteps peter out into another room. 

You cry more and continue to do so as you begin to run the bath, and then more tears flow when you watch yourself in the mirror as you tug at your stained cheeks with a cloth. Your tears are still wet on your cheeks when you lower yourself into the warm water and become absorbed in the feeling of it, melting away until you fall into the slumber of sleep. It’s the same slumber that doesn’t cause you to be startled when the door creaks open, your boyfriend pausing to take in your state before he strips himself down to join you.

You know he’s there when he gently sinks into the water behind you, but you make no attempt to move out of the way his knees encase you. His touch is apprehensive and careful, and you can practically hear the thoughts in his head move at a thousand miles an hour.

You know Jungkook. You know all too well that right now, he’s cut up inside, thinking of every way possible to take back time and to undo the stupid shit he was spouting earlier. He’s thinking about how fucked up he was to let jealousy do that to him, to get the better of his, and he’s thinking of every which way to make it right to you. You know, because you’re the same. We’re all in the wrong at some point, and everyone is more than the worst thing they’ve ever done.

So you grab at his hands that still hover in the air with unspoken uncertainty and you pull them to yourself, tight, and on your neck there is a desperate sigh of relief.

“I’m so sorry,” his tone is so apologetic you almost start crying all over again, but exhaustion and the need to forgive are all too strong. “Y/N, I’m so sorry, I-”

You know there are more words he wants to say, maybe to show you how bad he feels, maybe he’ll try and justify himself, but either way, you’re pushover ass forgave him before the argument even happened. You also simply like the boy too goddamn much to see him splutter in your neck because he’s scared he’ll lose you.

With your lips pressed to the back of his hands that you’ve encased in yours, you mutter, “Shhh, I know you are.” 

The water sloshes in the distance somewhere as he pulls you tighter to him like you’re an anchor and if he lets you go he’ll be lost. Kisses are placed down your neck gently and you let your eyes flutter shut again because you can’t lie in that he is the most comforting place to you right now.

Silence falls but not uncomfortably, fingers brushing skin like its china and breathing soft as you both give into each others touch.

“I don’t know what I ever did to deserve you.”

Maybe you are too forgiving Your mother always told you you were - ‘people won’t be so kind to your patience one day Y/N.’ - that’s what she’d told you. And she’s probably right that one day you’ll come to find that you’ve been used and abused for all the ‘it's okay’s’ and ‘I forgive you’s’ you’d uttered. But you didn’t use forgiveness as an easy way out, you used it when it was deserved. And Jungkook’s jealousy, whilst fucking annoying, was a human instinct - possibly more of a male instinct than female, you think - but it’s a natural reaction all the same. Compromise instead of conclusion.

“You have to start trusting me, you know.”

“I know,” a hasty response, maybe because he actually has realised he needs to trust you or maybe he just doesn’t want to prolong discussion. You hope and believe the first,

“You can’t keep this jealousy thing up. Particularly not with Jimin, I don’t want to be the reason your shit is ruined, it’s too good.”

The two of them best friends from the womb. But boys apparently will be boys and think any dick that goes near their girlfriend is aiming for one place and one place only, whether 21 years into friendship or not.

“I know.” The repeat of words makes you think he’s not listening to you, but then he sighs. “It’s just- I can’t- Fuck! He drives me up the wall, says all kinds of shit behind your back and mine about how fit you are because he knows it grills me.” This is new. “And then he sends you texts when I didn’t even know you had each others number and you won’t tell me what they are. It just fucked with my head and when you end up picturing the worst it’s hard to get that picture out of your head.”

It made sense, and he was getting angry with himself by the way his tone spiked, so you diffuse the tension.

“Hmm but if you weren’t so jealous your birthday wouldn’t have been ruined,” you feel his head slump and then he laughs, and you laugh, and then he’s squeezing you and forcing your eyes to his.

“You make me mental that’s why,” you’re close but he makes no move to kiss you, “and I’m sorry that I got like that when I had no reason to do so. I’ll change that I promise,”  he sounded sincere, looked sincere, and you’re a sucker for the way he’s naked and so close his breath hits your smile that you’re kissing him before you can feign trust. 

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

“You know you almost got me in big shit the other day,” the bell rings above your head as you and Jimin leave the cold in favour of the warmth of the bar. Thursday nights didn’t call for many people, so you found a seat easily at a booth, casual wear on and smile dancing across that idiots face.

“Kook told me.” Of course he did, “As if he got his dick caught between his legs because I sent you a text. Like does he really think I’d shag you.”

You scoff, “Cheers for that.”

“You know what I mean. If I got the chance I’d fucking take it, but Kook’s my brother,” and to be fair you did know what he meant. In fact it was a miracle Jungkook had been all calm and breezy when you’d told him you were meeting Jimin for drinks - maybe it was this new thing he was trying called ‘play it cool and let her do her own thing’ - even so, you liked it. 

You end up ordering beers, after all, it is only a Thursday so that means no hard spirits, but it’s also the afternoon so that means alcohol.

“I’m glad to hear you’re not gonna pounce Jim.” He laughs, you laugh, thank god, because ever since you and Jungkook had shouted about the texting and Jimin issue, you were scared you’d have to keep a distance from the boy to prevent awkwardness. “How you been anyways?”

“Is that another way of saying who’ve I fucked since we last spoke,” his eyebrows wiggle like he’s got something to be proud about.

“Jesus, you only do think with your dick don’t you?” 

“Come onn, ask me who I took home the other night,” he’s leaning forward with a smile that you want to smother, but you humour him for the sake of conversation.

“Which unlucky bird shared your bed the other night then?” You say it with a downward tone to express your distaste for the way your conversation has headed. You also nod a thank you to the waiter who’d brought beers over, pint on either side of the table.

“Well, maybe you should ask your roommate.”

Beer must fly out of your nose, mouth and ears with the way you choke. Literally, you’re spluttering everywhere and he’s laughing and you’re sure it’s a sick joke, but his smile says otherwise.

“She’s fucking gay!” That’s all you come up with. You know your roommate like the back of your hand, or so you think, and every part of you is wracking every part of your brain right now for some conversation where she said she’d shag Jimin, or shag a guy in fact. Nope, nothing.

“I thought so too, clearly she didn’t.” You’re angry at him by the way you scoff and take another long sip of your beer but you don’t even know why. Maybe you’re angry at her, but that also kind of feels invalid.

“As if she didn’t tell me.” He just shrugs. “... nah what the fuck man!” 

“Listen, talk to her about it. I’m pretty sure I was mad drunk, so was she, and she left before I woke up so…” The last bit sounds about right, Mia was never one for sticking around for morning cuddles, but it’s all just wrong and it’s stewing in your head like a bad memory. 

You're still questioning your entire existence it seems like when the conversation moves onto why you’re really here, or as Jimin says it, “So if the fucker knows we’re doing something for his birthday now, does that mean we actually have to do it?” 

God, he’s hard to talk to. You find yourself for half your conversations with Jimin either saying ‘fuck off’ or your scoffing. You do the latter now.

“We were doing something anyway, don’t act like you don’t care. But yeh, he knows, so why don’t we just fucking put in money for alcohol and bud and hit up the beach or something at Hobi’s. Simples.”

Jimin downs his pint - it’s a Thursday and you don’t know why - and then nods, “Yeh, sounds like I can fuck with that. But let’s tell Taehyung cos he’s rich and loves weed more than the next person.”

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

Like hell was there booze and weed. Taehyung had done the most, with Namjoon, and there was enough for 200 people to get fucked 10 times over, which with the 70 people that were apparently already at the beach, seemed like a mass death wish.

Hoseok, poor Hoseok, was hosting. You’d asked and he’d accepted like the selfless man he is and also because he loves Jungkook like a mother loves her child. It wasn’t his uni place, but his parent's beach house on the part of the coast where the beach stretched 20 yards deep and the water felt like the arctic on your skin, but even so, the parties out there were sick. 

You can just tell by the boyish grin on your boyfriends face he knows exactly the way this route takes you, the taxi driver, however, keeps giving you evils through the mirror probably because this journey is long and you’re not even on a real road at this point. But the vodka already in your system means you don’t care and you hold Jungkook’s hand in full-fledged excitement.

You swear you’re not corny.

He keeps his hand in yours even when you pay the driver, and tightens it further when everyone around the back of the cabin rings out in a chorus of ‘surprise’. He even holds your hand when he’s handed both a beer and a joint, somehow juggling them both in his free one.

Somewhere along the line between sharing conversations and drinking yourself silly, he whispers a ‘thank you’ in your ear, and presses a grateful kiss onto your lips.

The sun had been low for a while, with the expanded horizon offering the perfect view to watch it set. 

Still not corny, you promise.

But the smoke flowing through your system and the light hum of alcohol to accompany it just doesn’t allow for you to leave his side. Even through conversation after conversation, ‘happy birthday’ handshakes that made him switch which hand he was holding you with just so he didn’t let go, and even when the boys attempted a birthday bumps, you were there, glued tight.

“Fuck it, I wanna skinny dip!” Oh Jimin, oh that poor poor boy and his utterly delusional brain.

“Mate, that’s the high talking, leave it out.” You’re glad your boyfriend speaks sense when intoxicated because Tae’s there behind him clapping his back, encouraging him.

“Jim, legit 5 degrees right now, your dick’ll fall off if you go anywhere close to the sea.” And Namjoon, also ever with the straight head. Ah, you say that, but when you turn to the geez he chucks the small end of a lit blunt in his mouth and then swallows it down with beer - I guess his head will be going sideways now, in T-minus 5 seconds.

“You guys are pussys, my dick’ll just shrivel a bit…” 

“Fucking rancid, don’t wanna hear it.” Throwing your half empty beer can also seems to do the trick of shutting him up about his dick as he hangs his jaw that’s dripping with beer, warm from being half finished.

“Bitch.”

“Oi! None of that, Park.” Jungkook’s tone is serious but he’s smiling all the same, content in the setting he’s in, not despite of but because of the deluded conversation, the weird dynamic you guys all have, the way he’s just himself, and the fact you’re there too, with a vice grip on his hand.

It’s all breathy laughs and the occasional pressing of lips on your neck from where you’re sat on your boyfriend’s lap, as the conversation delves from somewhere between Jimin’s sex life (surprise surprise) to what Hoseok would look like on steroids - the mutual group decision, so, so, wrong. 

“Baby, I wanna get going.” 

“Hm?” You were caught in laughter and didn’t think you heard him right, so you turn in his lap to throw an arm around his shoulder, all eyes and ears for your man.

“I kind of wanna get going home.”

You’re surprised, looking through the glaze in his eyes to see if he’s too stoned or not having a good time, but you just see him content gaze, boring adoration into yours. Leaving now would also make you the first to leave, and it was his party.

“You wanna go like right now, right now?”

“Mmm,” and there’s something you can't pinpoint in his expression, apprehension maybe.

“Okay, should I be worried? You’re good right?” 

And his head drops to make you think ‘shit’, but then he’s laughing, shoulders shaking under your tense arms before he grabs at your face and places a kiss on either cheek. The blush creeps up on you before you can hide your face in his shoulder.

“I’m fine, so good.”  It’s almost a shout of a confession as he throws his head back to demonstrate the emotion behind the words, but the way his smile lifts to his eyes tells you all you need to know. You’re still not quite getting why the happy boy you’re perching on wants to ditch his own surprise party, but each to their own, you think.

“Okay? You’re sure you don’t want to stay?”

Affirming you’re correct with a head shake, he leans in once again, squeezing at your sides ungraciously tight before smashing his lips to yours in a rough, open mouthed kiss that is neither something you were ready for or something you’re about to do with Jimin and Namjoon next to you.

So, you’re both laughing, him attempting to plaster his lips to your face and you swatting as his arm that fixes you in place to him.

“Kook fu- baby,” you begin to scramble away and he lets you, laughing out at the way you flatten your hair and fumble at you jeans as a means to compose yourself, “Time and a place, you dick.”

Stares and smiles are all you give each other as the ambient sounds of others continue around you. It’s like that with him - the world keeps buzzing around you but you’re not in that world, you’re somewhere too deep in his.

Please believe me, you’re not cringy!

“Come back,” hand out, legs spread wide to make room for you and you cannot help the way your feet appease his every word.

You’re eyes down on him, and his up at you, blown full with love, lust and everything in between and you settle in the warmth of his proximity and in the heat of his gaze.

“I love you.”

So you kiss him, because, “I love you too Kook.”

“Now order that fucking taxi, I wanted to go all of two hours ago.” And there he is, earning himself another smack to the arm.

“You bastard, you’re lucky I’m whipped.”

“Yeh you fucking are Y/N!” Jimin can suck a dick, the wanker. Throwing a final middle finger up to the offending boy and holding the other hand out for your boyfriend, you get onto the route home.

Silence is not always a bad thing. You’d told yourself that the whole way home. You especially knew how car journeys when inconceivably high and drunk could make the head spin and the voice mute, but neither of you were inconceivably high or drunk. His hand was still there on yours from beach to taxi, taxi to apartment, apartment to bedroom, but the smile was gone. 

“Baby, what’s wrong, talk to me.”

“Mmm?” Playing it off, yet he still won’t look at you - the boy never could do confrontation or telling you what he wants.

He’s across the room, carrying the tea he’d made you to your side of the bed when you told him you’d felt a headache coming on. And you’re there just watching, the moping, the shrug and the way he now stops as you reach out your hand to tug at his shirt. 

“Oi, look at me.” Eventually, and what looks like with effort, he does. “You gonna talk to me now, or what?” And you begin to worry at the way his gaze digs into your face, eyes pouring emotion that is scattered in so many different directions you can’t keep up. Is he sad? Nervous? Why would he be nervous?

“I love you.” There’s more to be said just in the way those three words come out, and it scares you.

“Okayy…”

“Like I really love you. So much sometimes I don’t know what I’m doing with you.”

“Koo-” He grabs at your neck and finally takes control of his voice, no longer apprehensive and filled with mixed signals, but so affirmative that it takes every word from your mouth.

“You’ve waited for me Y/N. So fucking long. I’ve been shit to you as well recently. I just can’t fathom that you’re here and you’re mine and it fucking scares me, you have to get that.” Eyes well on both his and your side, as words unspoken, are finally spilt. Maybe it’s the occasion or the alcohol but you don’t care. “Everything about you is everything I ever want and what happens if I fuck it up and lose it. I can’t lose you.”

“I can’t lose you.” It’s a mantra spoken by him on so many occasions, like if he says it, it’ll never happen.

“And what if I feel the same, Kook.” Forehead to forehead now and so deep into the caverns of his eyes, you’d give him your whole soul if he asked. 

“You do?.. Feel the same?” You’re sure he knows you do. You’re sure he hasn’t been deaf to the thousands of ‘I love you’s’ and wholehearted confessions made by you. But he’s fragile to the extent that he needs to hear it. Needs to hear you say that you’re willing to lose everything here.

In a passing breath you whisper your confession, “yes,” and he squeezes at the hairs at the back of your neck that stand on end with every goosebump in your body. 

The tears fall just as he puts his lips to yours and oxygen becomes gold dust with the way you’re so breath taken. But it’s the happy kind of breath taken, that feeling right before christmas as a kid when you know everything’s waiting for you on the other side of sleep, that feeling where the sinking dries up in your stomach and every fibre of you body buzzes uncontrollably, the kind of breath taken where you smile and laugh in full-fledged giddiness.

Pulling away, you do just that, laugh against his mouth, smile without thought, and despite the tears that drip onto your lips you keep kissing at him, peck after peck because he’s laughing and crying with you.

Fuck, this was the moment you were converted to cringe. You didn’t give two shits about it either.

“I thought you were about to fucking break up with me, you absolute knob!” He thumb scoops up the tears as he laughs at you, sniffling to himself in the emotion of the moment that you two were still somewhere swept up in.

“You’re an idiot.” 

“Maybe.” 

Before the last tear is swept away at the motion of his thumb on your cheek, Kook ducks down and sweeps you up, over his shoulder and then with a not so forgiving thump to your back, you hit the bed - looks like he forgot his bed was made of fucking rocks, great for sex though, no squeak. And suddenly it dawns on you as hard as you just hit that mattress. That look in his eyes, now, earlier at the beach, the entire strung out fucking monologue he just gave you. All in the name of sex. 

“Can we- you want to- do it.” 

Fuck, it’s actually happening.

You suppress the butterflies with a laugh that surfaces from the way he stutters. 

“Well, what the fuck dyou want me to say. We’ve waited 5 months and you want me to just say, ‘oi Y/N, let me fuck you’.” 

But the laughing doesn’t seize. 

“I’m sure fucking not saying I want to make love to you, because imagine that gettin relayed to the boys. Instantly my dick goes from a 7 on hard to a 5.”

“Aw babe, give yourself credit, you’re at least a 5 and a half.”

“Bitch.” 

And with that he presses his full weight into you, smiling into the kiss that sucks deep into your lips, harsh but tender in all the right places. It turns you on the way he goes slow with you, maps outlines on your skin with his touches, and it makes you even hornier when his boner slowly grows into the meat of your thigh. 

It’s a moan in response to him biting your lip that has him off you and flipping the position so you straddle him. But tight jeans don’t accommodate for being on top, the fucking inconvenient bitch, so it’s with the slow teasing pace, that he seems to be going for, that you take as the jeans come off. 

“Fuck,” is whispered somewhere between you purchasing yourself right on his crotch and the way you raise you crop top over naked breasts. 

This is not uncharted territory. The two of you aren’t nuns who have abstained from everything and anything in your relationship. No, you’re far from holy. But the way your boyfriend gapes, eyes blown and breathing sharp, he’s like a virgin on steroids.

When you lean into his body, claiming his lips once again you notice the shaking, the way his body uncontrollable shivers underneath you despite the perspiration that soaks through his shirt.

“Baby, you’re shaking,” you whisper into his mouth, and he simply nods a frantic ‘yes’ against you. “Kook, calm down, relax, baby,” and after grasping gently at his chin to pry his lips off yours, you find his gaze, eyes blown in lust and fear. 

“Okay? I’m all yours,” you take his hand and lead it to your breast, then ushering it towards the steady beat of your heart, felt beneath trembling fingertips. “All yours.”

Running your hands over the tension in his biceps, you attempt to put him at ease with the roll of your hips. His bulge hadn’t gone unnoticed for a second and it was perfectly place with the tip resting on your clit, that you could probably both go to town like that - who said romance was dead! 

“Fuck Y/N.” 

“There you go,” you push him on, sucking into the rift between his neck and his shoulders and strong arms now scoop over and round to your ass. The squeeze is convincing, hard enough that you don’t fight back the moan and hard enough that your hips move that little bit harsher. 

Breaths are heavy in your ear as you find yourself slipping deeper into the pleasure of the moment, but you know he’ll never take the initiative and make the first move.

“You’re so hard Kook.”

A groan in all he responds as you hit that spot just on his tip that he loves so much.

“I want you so bad.”

“Fuck, me too,” and desperation for more than the slow grind you opted for overcomes him. Lips latch onto yours in a harsh display as he flips you once again. 

You can’t help but smirk to yourself, pure filthy excitement taking over the fibres of your body as he stares down at you now, hungry and horny.

“Fuck, I’ve wanted this so bad for so long Y/N you have no idea.” 

“Off,” and he gets the message with how his shirt is off and somewhere across the room without his dick leaving its place nestled in your crotch.

“I’ve been dying to have you, all of you.” His teeth are clawing at the skin of your neck as he pants out his dirty confession to the rhythm of his hips. 

“You’ve been dying to fuck me, Kook?” It’s a teasing tone, but there’s no hiding the breathiness behind your voice.

“Fuck yeh.”

“Then go ahead and fuck me.”

When his gaze meets yours, his eyes are wide and disbelieving. But you’re more focused on the stain of his lips from sunken teeth and the way his hair sticks to his face from sweat. You also haven’t failed to miss the bare, toned torso pressed neatly onto your chest - abs to die for and v lines that leave the eyes wandering an unholy amount of southward.

“You want me to go in raw?” You feign laughter at how giddy he looks at the prospect.

“Birth controls a saint innit.”

“Fuck, I’m scared I’ll come in two seconds.” Great turn on. You think, you don’t say.

His trousers are off fast but when it comes to your panties, he’s calculated in the way he lowers himself to eyes level with your core, breathing haphazardly in his lust induced state into the material that he proceeds to run down the length of your leg and off at your feet.

Eyes trail up your body as he crawls his way back to your now exposed core, “Jesus, you’re so sexy.” 

“Jungkook! What would God say if he heard you talk about his son that way!”

His head literally drops and he groans, as if the turn off button hadn’t already been switched when he told you he’d blow his load as soon as dick met pussy.

“I literally have no words Y/N.” 

“Well, you better put that mouth to better use then baby.”

“Bitch.”

But his tongue is darted out and into your folds, no matter the reluctance, and he soon finds that same taste, bitter and sweet all at once that draws him in every fucking time.

“Fuck Kook.” The reaction is instant, spine arched away from the mattress as his tongue sets to work inside you, darting in and out so fast that your hips couldn’t keep up if they tried. It’s when he flattens it against your clit and the hand once pinning down a thigh pushes two fingers in so fucking deep that the moans spill. 

“Shit that’s tight,” he mutters to himself more than anyone as his delving fingers reach that spot that has you stringing his name and curses into an aimless sentence. And the scene below you is even hotter than the feeling at your core, Jungkook, nestled between your legs with lips to clit, hand to pussy, and hips rutting desperately into the mattress. He’s a whole fucking view and it has you keening with your hands rooted in his hair that are telling him wordlessly not to let up.

When his eyes meet yours, you knows its game over, smirk overtaking his features as his fingers piston and fuck you open, thumb taking over the role his lips had on your clit just so he gets to watch you fall apart under him.

“That’s it baby, cum for me.”

“Holy fuc- shitt. Jungkook.” And your moans are the hottest things he’s ever heard as you tumble into a hell of a fucking orgasm. Shocks ripple through your body with the rate of his fingers and everything pulses as you cum, and keep fucking cumming.

Kook can barely help the way his cock seeks better friction against the mattress because of the bliss written on your face. And he almost forgets to let up on the frantic way his fingers still fuck you because your glistening chest lifting up and down in the light has his focus completely elsewhere. 

“Kook, I can’t.”

“Sorry baby,” he lets up with one final kiss to your clit, the jolt of pain and pleasure causing you to whine briefly. His cock twitches at the sound.

“Y/N I’m so hard, please.” 

You drag him up with the hand still woven deep in his locks so he’s eye level, and dick level with the place he wants it most. Wordlessly and still driven by the buzz from your orgasm, your hand guides him into you and fuck if the moan against your mouth isn’t the best thing you’ve ever heard.

“Holy fuck.” Nestling his head into the crook of your neck with deep breaths to accompany it, you can tell he’s trying to hold back the feeling of his balls tightening and ignore the way you still pulse from your orgasm. It’s tight and it’s so fucking bare because he’s never gone raw before. Fuck, neither of you have had sex in six months so the feeling might just make you both combust on the spot.

“Slowly baby, it’s been a while.” You’d known he’d reach your stomach just from the way he fucked your throat every other day - his girth is nothing far from impressive and it’s stretching you without even moving.

Light kisses press their way from neck to jaw to mouth as he pulls out to the hilt and then back in, slowly, tantalising slowly so that you both moan into the other's mouths, breathy and completely consumed by the feeling of each other.

“Fuck I’m never gonna get enough of this now.”

“Mmm,” you really hoped he wouldn’t.

“God I love you so much, your pussy is actual heaven.” And you hate to say the way the praise goes straight to your core, but your boyfriend can most certainly tell from the clench you hold his dick in. “Fuckkk, so good.”

It’s slow and it’s deep and he’s hitting your g-spot and clit with every roll of his hips. Throughout the murmurs of affection and sex filled admissions, you grasp at each other's skin, his hands pulling your hair so your mouth meets his and your hands across the muscles in his back that flex under your fingers with each thrust. 

It’s when he drags one hand to your throat and grips at it to balance his sped-up movements that you’re finding yourself teetering towards the edge again, spilling words never spoken and sounds never heard but he’s saving every one of them to memory.

“Faster baby please,” and he obliges instantly as he dives into you hard and fast, “babyy oh shit.”

“Y/N you’re clenching so fucking hard right now,” but he’s left you breathless to the point of no reply.

Several punishing slams that also attack your clit have eyes rolling and you biting down into his shoulder, suppressing the scream that surfaced without your consent.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, I’m gonna cum.” He keeps pounding away, forcing you deeper and deeper into a spiral of pleasure, until his lips are on yours and he ruts a final few times, grunting and moaning into your mouth. “So good, so good,” and he repeats this until he’s still above you and finally the hand wound into your neck lessens it’s pressure so the throb in your body and up to your head dies into a tingle. 

It’s the most content and blissful silence, post orgasm, wrapped in the warm and wet body of your boyfriend. That is until he begins mumbling inconceivable words into the shoulder he decided to rest on.

“What baby?”

“I said,” lifting himself to eye level, and he’s a fucking sight for sore eyes. “Worth the fucking wait.” 

And with a tired, fucked out smile, light kiss to his lips, you can most certainly agree. 

Worth the fucking wait.

[muninnhuginn]

DC (you can choose which one)

Sorry for the delay on this! I started it then saved it in my drafts and proceeded to forget that drafts were a thing OTL.

Anyway, I'm going to go for the Detective Conan DC because my knowledge of the other DC is... lacking.

The first character I first fell in love with: Haibara. Her character arc is still my favourite even now. She was very much traumatised in a number of ways and that wasn’t much shied away from. Like, she’s actively terrified of Gin and Vermouth and when we first met her she’d just lost her sister. But despite that, she still managed to open up over time. And it wasn’t a linear path because she still freaks whenever someone from the BO is present (and I know the entire BO sense is kinda weird in terms of how much of it is like a magic realism thing vs her panic response but there’s some of both of it in there). But she is happier after her development and her friendship with Ayumi is precious honestly. The case about being able to call her by her first name was legit sweet.

The character I never expected to love as much as I do now: Akai, I think. He was pretty clever without getting nerfed for it and saw through the Conan shtick, same as with Yamato and Koumei (who are both also charas I like). But then, I was just incredibly amused by his Okiya act. I have no idea how much of it was intentional trolling but turning up with curry to incredibly non-subtly check up on Haibara cracked me up. And obviously alongside that you have how he was freaking Haibara out and it just led to a lot of scenes with tension between them where Akai wasn’t communicating his reasons (because he got her sister killed. yikes.) and Haibara had enough pieces to have an idea but not enough to complete the puzzle as to Akai being a “good guy”, so to say. It was fun, I think. Even if the setup of characters not communicating definitely started to become frustrating after a while. But anyway, Akai has the range. He has the clever dangerous side and the “wdym, I’m just here for curry” memeability.

The character everyone else loves that I don’t: This isn’t an “everyone” thing exactly but I’m not sure there is any one character who is universally liked by the entire fandom. Anyway, I find Conan frustrating nowadays. I think he was decent up past Desperate Revival (maybe even Vermouth reveal?) but after that stagnated big time. The main issue is that DC is a long runner and so at some point character development has to be put on hold. It’s more obvious with Conan because we literally see him every case as opposed to the other characters who have fewer appearances. But I think to narrow it down further, the problem is how Conan is not allowed to make mistakes that are punished by the narrative (aside from perhaps when it’s time to show off Yuusaku). Say for instance, he can actively refuse an information exchange with Akai because he doesn’t want to confirm his identity despite the fact that Akai already knows who he is. And this is treated as though it’s fine and logical even though it really isn’t? I don’t mind character flaws. If anything, I want characters to have flaws. But when the manga continues to twist the narrative around to try and pretend like character flaws aren’t flaws, it really puts me off that character.

The character I love that everyone else hates: This is more a case of the potential than that I actually think she's super well done, but early era Sera was actually pretty good? I find the later choices (especially once Mary is introduced) to be too inconsistent with her previous characterisation and strongly dislike how her intelligence gets retrospectively nerfed by the revelation that Mary was helping her out all along. But Sera in her first few cases and especially in the case with bomb at the detective agency? She was being the most realistic person there and it was really refreshing. (I feel like talking more about this could go off topic but basically I get that Ran is supposed to be the kinda pure more idealistic style morality because that’s what Aoyama is gunning for with her chara and that’s what Vermouth likes about her and Shinichi, but what Ran did with blocking the snipers’ views there was actively dangerous. It would have been safer for everyone else if they’d just gone with Sera’s plan and let the sniper take out the bomber)

The character I used to love but don’t any longer: Gin was a pretty intimidating and challenging antagonist all the way up until maybe around Clash? I just feel though that he’s become less and less of a serious antagonist the more spies get revealed within the BO? Peak Gin was Dark Footprints though imo and since then, well. Nowadays, I really struggle to see the hype around him.

The character I would totally smooch: Uh... none, sorry.

The character I’d want to be like: I was so stuck on this question but I’ve settled on an answer now. I’d go for Haibara because even though her science knowledge keeps getting nerfed (ngl, so salty she didn’t know basic physics in the Maria case) she does have that biochem background. And even though she’s quiet and not actively trying to fit in she still manages to gain friends willing to put in the effort for her. It’s sweet and I’d like that.

The character I’d slap: Shuukichi. This guy. He decides without consulting her that he will ghost his girlfriend so he can win a shogi title “for her” which will somehow prove that he’s worthy of marrying her (????). He hasn’t even told her he plays shogi professionally before he does this. What. Maybe I’m just someone who would appreciate communication in relationships of any flavour but I don’t think I’d ever want to marry someone who breaks up with me out of the blue to ghost me for years only to reappear and say he wants to marry me because he’s won some competition I don’t even care about. And Yumi doesn’t care about shogi or she would have known years ago he plays professionally, especially considering it’s aired on TV.

A pairing that I love: TakaSatou. In a series where most of the relationships start with some kind of childhood connection, TakaSatou is definitely refreshing for entirely bypassing that and gunning for a more mature relationship overall. That said, there are a couple of their stories that rely way too much on second hand embarrassment for me to rewatch.

A pairing that I despise: Okay, I'll just go for the worst offender here with Shuukichi/Yumi. See my answer on why I would slap Shuukichi for reference and also the fact that I’m about 95% sure Aoyama is going to make it canon despite this. I wouldn��t mind half as much if the manga actually critically examined why Shuukichi pulled his ghosting stunt, but it’s just brushed over as a big romantic gesture. So yeah. I’m out.

[you-are-crazy-beautiful]

Continuation of ask:

Favourite character and why?

I think, this will probably come as no surprise that my favourite character is Miss Kieu My Vu herself. Not only in Druck, she's my favourite character in the whole skamverse!

Yeah, so you know how I said I'd probably end up writing an essay about Kieu My at some point...you probably weren't prepared for this anon, because this is legit like a thesis 😬😆

I can't tell you how much I love Kieu My, honestly, after every clip with her, I would actually say it out loud.

I had my headcanons of what I thought she was going to be like based on S5 and her activity on IG (who she follows etc.). I thought she was probably a bit insecure, a nerd, and going to be a really soft LI. When she said 'Bro, what heart', I laughed because I knew she was going to be one of the greatest LI in Skamverse, and boy is she! So one reason she is my fave is because I literally watched the character that I had written in my head, come to life in front of me! ✨

It actually really hurts me and makes me sad knowing that a minority of people in the fandom are sending DM's to the writers saying Kieu My wasn't written well and underdeveloped because they want a Kieu My S7😰😡. They did such a stunning job with her and it pains me to think they might think they didn't.

Some people are saying that her background didn't get explored, but I would argue that it definitely did, we know she has a good, supportive relationship with her parents, that she cares about her Vietnamese heritage, that she feels insecure speaking Vietnamese as she's a 3rd generation immigrant, and her parent's didn't teach her it in great detail. She feels she owes her parents for giving up their dreams and all the hard work they do to make sure she has a good life, which I really relate to because that's how I feel with my mum, even though they don't expect anything back.

Also, you never get the whole background of a LI explored🤷‍♀️ I also argue that a detailed 'background' does not = development or a character getting fleshed out. For example, Maya in SkamFr got a really detailed background, which she explained to Lola in ep 3. I love Maya, so this is not a dig at her. Yet, besides from explaining why she ghosted Lola when she found out about her addiction problem, they didn't give her much more personality than 'the sunshine' to Lola's darkness, and imo she's quite 2D. Development is loads of things, it is a personality being exposed, insecurities being addressed, change in behaviour.

Even in just episode 1, Kieu My already goes through great development. In 5x10, she is still seen as the aloof Insta and quite superficial. Then in the first clip of 6x01, you can see how awkward she is (I cannot express how good Nhungi is with the little details). The way she doesn't understand Fatou's question about what she's doing and replies straight faced that she's walking on the pavement 😂 The stuttering when she asks to use the skateboard. The first hint of her insecurity when she says she bets Fatou never fell off. Which can I just say, I love that line! Because as if Fatou would be able to use a skateboard the first time she tried. It shows Kieu My's insecurity but also how she views Fatou as this cool and collected person. Then when Fatou says she did fall off and laughs, Kieu My lets out a nervous breath to herself. Then laughter is heard, and she starts looking around self-consciously. I think it's probably a mix of thinking people may be laughing at her putting herself out there and looking like an idiot on the skateboard, along with her inner biphobia.

Then the clip in the Physics class we saw the first on screen hints at nerd Kieu My. I went nuts that day as we also got the text between Zoe and her talking about the Bio test, and how Kieu My was studying for it despite the answers being leaked. Druck said Nerd-Kieu My rights!✌ I love that Physics clip so much because as soon as the teacher finishes the question, Kieu My has her hand raised to answer, but also note she doesn't make the hand high or easy to see, showing us she doesn't draw attention to it. So, already in ep 1 you have Superficial-Kieu My -> awkward, nerd Kieu My. DEVELOPMENT!

Please don't interact with this if that's your opinion that she isn't developed. You're entitled to your opinion, but I will not read or answer it.

One of the things I was pleasantly surprised with was that although I thought she was going to be soft and insecure, I thought she would try to hide it behind the Ice queen personality more, and fight her feelings.

It was probably during the NYE clip (which is also maybe why it's my no.1 clip 🥰) that I realised they weren't going to go down the route of her holding onto the 'cool girl' image. She was so shy and could hardly keep eye contact with Fatou when she was talking about her dream of studying Mars❤

I remember there was genuinely like 2 people other than me in the Kieu My fan club when she wasn't responding, and it was strange to me because she said in ep 2 that girls scare her and she doesn't know what to do. It didn't make sense for her to ghost Fatou for any other reason, as girl had spent 11hrs talking with Fatou a week before. The moment in ep 4 when Fatou talks to her in person and she's the shook Mr Krabbe meme 😂💀

She really spent the whole week reading Fatou's texts and then f*cked it up herself by trying to get Constantin off her back. Then my girl came through texting Fatou everyday Sun-Wed, until Fatou responded on Thursday. She really grabbed the bull by the horns and straight up asked Fatou on a date in the geekiest way possible. I'm sure she suggested the table tennis bar because Fatou did, so she thought 'this must be an appropriate first date venue' 😂. The last line on Thursday when she said she can't get Fatou out of her head 🥺 The amount of vulnerability, she's so brave 🤧

Volunteering to do the project with Fatou, again showing her bravery and not caring about what anybody else thought even with the rumour going around and Constantin sitting next to her!

Turning up with the plate of Vietnamese pancakes, and doing the nervous bounce she does. Revealing to Fatou that she doesn't think she's good enough, and everybody thinks she's perfect, and the pressure she puts on herself to live up to that. Crying when she thought she had blown her chance to be with Fatou. She's too soft I can't take it! 😭Even the detail that she always tries to hold Fatou's hand for comfort 🗣🗣

Getting her girl, and then immediately setting up a date. Laying herself bare about her inner biphobia, and Fatou being the first girl she's been with, her dreams of being an astrophysicist, and nerding out about the history of the universe 🥰

I absolutely love how she's the one to initiate the first kisses and touches, she just went in with both feet and never looked back, fighting her fears to be with Fatou. She is so brave! Which makes all her gestures of love even more immense! They would be incredibly romantic gesture anyway, I mean climbing a roof in her fancy clothes *swoon*, but the fact that she is doing it, despite being terrified🗣🗣

Being a straight A student, but not caring about the presentation and just Fatou's wellbeing. I burst into tears when she asked the teacher to stop and then argued back to him.

Showing how she finds it hurtful that no one really sees her and they only care about her looks. One of the things I was constantly blown away with was how Kieu My kept being given the space to speak. There's at least 3 key scenes where she is just allowed to breathe, and talk about her fears and issues, which I think is so rare.

How she is also an absolute 🤡 Referring to Fatou as Axolotlgirl in texts, sending Fatou songs and that she can't help think about Fatou while listening to them, but not knowing why and that she is in love. When she is too scared to talk to Fatou, but got her nails cut ASAP, and was liking all of Fatou's IG posts. Telling Fatou to stay away from her because she is so hurt but then having a full on breakdown for 2 weeks, calling people at 3am, and stalking Fatou's IG, accidentally liking posts, and thinking Fatou was moving on with Ava 🤡

Being such a caring person and going to help Constantin at 11pm, no questions asked, and keeping an eye on him at the party, making sure he was drinking water. Being there for Fatou because she knows something is going on, even though she's been hurt in their last interactions. Helping her parents at the store with no complaints, but fitting in time to print old Maths workbooks to help Fatou 🥰.

Getting a gold turtle and carrying it in her pocket because she was too scared to give it to Fatou! Setting up a stargazing date in someone's bedroom in the middle of someone else's birthday party 💀

Apologising to Ava because it's the right thing to do and not because she's with Fatou.

So, as you can gather, I think Kieu My is alright 😜

Thank you to the writers and Nhungi, because you really knocked it out the park with her!❤

[goldendaydna]

This is just a post of me vaguely gesturing at things 87, 03, and 12 Leo has done with his “I don’t even know how to describe but I know it’s not smart” energy

‘Hey guys I'm gonna check out an alien sighting meet up place alone and not bother to at the very least take a disguise with me’

Spent entire nights in an arcade to beat one game he just *had* to beat the game and risked being discovered.

*Get's lost and doesn't have his fam there with him, Screams and gets more lost* ((This poor guy gets lost so much in 87 it’s pretty sad, directionally challenged and gets tunnel vision))

I mean sure he once got hit by a personality altering ray to make him more fun but that doesn’t change the fact that he deada** left a note to his fam that said "Ciao babies I'm off to have a good time.   L" and that’s a whole mood

Mr. how can I find some way to solve my problems by using or throwing my katana in some way or form

87 Leo had memory issues and no one can tell me otherwise, there was even an episode that addressed the boys neglecting parts of taking care of themselves and like Donnie with his eyesight, Mikey with his ungodly amount of eating, I think Raph with some form of laziness? and I’m pretty sure Leo didn’t really get told anything; anyways so they see themselves in the future and their neglect turned into major issues in their old age and yeah Leo was so upset that he “... turned into a befuddled old coot” so yeah the universe just looked at blue boi and said lol yeah sorry bro

'I can avoid questions and situations by asking other questions and using kindness'

Threw lipsticks on a toaster painting for target practice

His turtle com voice mail at one point was: :D "Hi, this is Leonardo, I can't answer the turtle com right now, I'm off on a nightmare adventure from which I may never return." :D

Oop there goes the steering wheel ((This also happens more than once when he drives))

Got over his fear of snakes out of pure spite cuz two kids called him a coward and a snake man said snakes were better than turtles

“Ok, it’s not regular mail. I guess Mikey would call it *mimickes Mikey’s voice* Air Mail.”

Susceptible to peer pressure

He totally practices his hero lines

‘Lol a snake can’t fight! no hands or legs! *OOF*..... the risk I took was calculated but man am I bad at math‘

'Guys this sounds like a bad ide-' 'SHADDUP LEO'

Started a fight with Raph because "GIVE IT BACK!"

“YIKES! Excuse me sensei” because yes Leo, saving your dad from getting hit by a vehicle could possibly inconvenience him.

Kissed not one, but two plungers before realizing to his horror that yes he just kissed two plungers.

*Threw one of the biggest kiddie temper tantrums I have ever seen in a cartoon* like no lie he was on the floor and everything.

Mikey: Look, a glitch!  Leo: Beg your pardon? (Thought Mikey said b***h, or that he may have called him or Donnie one, I dunno but it happened.) 

His sport equipment of choice was a frigging scooter, nuff said.

'I AM SULKING AND EVERYONE KNOWS IT'

Talks to himself a lot and I respect that

'I am a failure and should not exist.'

He tries pretty hard to look cool.

Pouty frowny mc’pouter boi when he’s either annoyed or not amused or embarrassed

Reprimanded his brothers about silence then proceeded to fall off a roof and make all the noise in the world.

Leo: What’s going on? Donnie: I’m having the weirdest dream. Leo: You can’t be dreaming,*I’m* here. Donnie: CUZ I’M DREAMING YOU! (｀Д´) Leo: (¬､¬) *Maybe I’m dreaming you but you’re not dreaming me* ( ｰ`дｰ´) Donnie: (¬_¬)

"Halt villain!" holy stars he’s such a geek.

"Just like space heroes!" Leo’s relationship with this old cartoon in general. You legit just put the show on and he is just glued to it, he knows the lines, the scenes, just everything and tries to incorporate it in his everyday life and even missions.

A little girl told him about pinkies up when drinking tea ONCE and now it’s a mandatory practice.

He walked up to a seemingly harmless creature, said "mop mop" to mimic it then poked the thing and got his butt kicked; and this was AFTER he said “New rule no one touch anything.”

“You have a pineapple for a head!” *Looks and sounds shocked at the fact that he’s hallucinating Donnie’s head indeed being a pineapple but not as shocked as one would think*

*Mimics the weird Krang talk and makes a ‘Heh heh I am so funny’ face* ‘Hmm? Oh sorry, anyway-’

“Window cleaner on! Window cleaner off”

This blue dummy thought it was a good idea to hit on some random lady on a completely different hostile planet

The idea or even concept of him having shellacne just seems to offend him

“WE YOKAI WILL STEAL ALL OF YOUR SOULS, THROUGH YOUR BUTT!!! MWUA HA HA!!” ((I can just hear Donnie thinking “It’s important to be accurate” while his brother said that))

Bruh, I swear Leo seems like he lives in a constant state of dissociation like at least 87% of the time, like he’s there enough to where he can answer to people and take actions but he’s not entirely there. 

Tried to catch toast with a plate ((Never ask 2012 Leo, Raph, and Donnie to make breakfast together it’s just gonna end poorly))

And this isn’t even covering everything there is so much more but this post is already long enough.

[tenwoology]

part twenty-six

part 25 • part 27

back to navi.

taglist: @orange-nimon-cross @tell-tale-taeil @stopitvpls @exfolitae @bts7aus @jaemingold @doyoungsarabbit @maricopia

pls let me know if you want to be added on the taglist. :)

note: hey, friends! this was supposed to be uploaded yesterday but my docs had a little bit of a problem. i legit got scared because the whole app won’t open and i thought my drafts got eaten. anw, all things good now! still i had to redo everything. i had fun making it tho! pls click on the music for more fun experience. also we got in @/jjyusmile’s monthly recs! if someone wants to cry with me pls hmu yaaay (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*.✧

length: 1k :: press play: give it back - cö shu nie

narration is under the cut.

it was as if it had the hallmarks of a hollywood scene. the two of you basking in the late afternoon’s golden hues, in a cafe with the view that overlook the ocean stretched out in the horizon. the sunlight glistened over the waters making it appear like a sea of diamonds. it was almost picture perfect. 

because the best view you have here is your best friend, jungwoo. he sat across the table, in a position where the sun perfectly illuminates his face as if it had found a home on his skin. his cheeks dusted with light pinks. 

memories of sunsets, cherry trees, and the images of your younger days played in your mind like a streak of old negatives. you were lost for a moment. only the crackling leaves beneath your feet became the piped music as the image of you and jungwoo running in an autumn day flashes. he was a lot skinnier back then, freshness of budding youth on both of your teen faces were evident.  

“i can’t believe we’re going home.” he said and plopped himself on the table. “can we just stay here?” even though you can’t see it, you know he’s pouting.

“should we?”

he looked at you wide-eye. “wha—”

“i’m kidding. we can’t, you silly.” you said while a playful grin tugging at your lips.

jungwoo let out a whine and exhaled in exasperation as he took your hand. “okay. but promise me, we’re gonna go back here. just us.” he murmured softly.

you met his hopeful gaze with a welcoming smile. “we will. promise.” your thumb brushing over his knuckles in a delicate manner. 

although, physic-wise, he’s gotten taller and beef up a little. a lot more fashionable now, probably because of the influence of his friends (which became your good friends too). but jungwoo, as the light and buoyant kid that he was, still surprises you that he had kept the same nature even after all these years. he’s a lot mature but he remain unchanged; still the outgoing kid that everyone seemed to love and adore. 

you look at your hand that he was holding. you could feel the blossoming warmth in your chest that you anticipated not to crept up your cheeks. jungwoo’s affable demeanor towards you is something you’re already used to. however, it appears like fate has a way of fooling your entire being. now, all of his sweet gestures that he normally does, would be enough to make your heart race a thousand miles. 

honestly, you wouldn’t mind doing this all day. no other person has ever give you the sense of comfort the way this man in front of you did. he could just sit there, do nothing, and he would still be able to send an abundance of happiness down to your feet up to your heart. jungwoo is just that person. 

and maybe, it wouldn’t hurt to give him your heart. 

you bit your lip, your gaze dropping to his face. and suddenly, all you could think about is that: he’s beautiful. the kind of beaut that invigorates you, incites you. a splendor manifested into a human being. he was ethereal. 

“woo, can i tell you something?”  

“hm? you can tell me anything, bub.” 

“i…you know, i haven’t been a good talker. always setting my feelings aside, always ignoring it in hopes it would be gone overnight,” you sighed.

“it was a bad habit, i know. but i never grew up with a lot of friends, woo. being a foreigner made it hard, communication was hard, and i can’t even talk about things that bothers me with jun. because i don’t want to give him the impression of his sister being weak, that’s not what he deserves.” you let out a shaky breath and met his eyes. you can’t read what’s on his mind, though his eyes weren’t anything malicious but it had been marked with the utmost cordiality. 

“to be honest, i don’t quite remember how the hell did we manage to get close–like how? seriously?” you chuckled. he did too. “just like that, you became part of my daily life. and i never regretted any single second of it. woo, i love every bit of it. because you never tried to be anything, you never tried to be something you are not. you never pushed me to say things and you…you were so patient to me, woo. even today, after all these years. you still managed to be the same.” there’s a desperation formed in your words, however, amusement topped it all. 

“you bring so much magic and interest to my life, it’s insane, really! so, how do you expect me not to fall in love with you when you made me feel so good about myself to the point it convinced me that maybe, i wasn’t really that bad?” 

your heart pounded inside your chest like an animal demanding to be released. and the butterflies in your stomach started going on rampage—or maybe they were lions, or elephants, or dinosaurs—nonetheless, it felt good. extremely. 

his next reaction struck you dumb, though. “huh?”

“wow, and here i am, expressing my love for you and all i get is–”

“no! i…i’m just surprised, holy crap.” jungwoo’s ears were reddened, and his cheeks bloomed in the colour of vibrant pinks that looked so good in his fair skin. 

“woo, i love you.” 

“shit, say it again.”

“i love you.” 

the words rolled off your tongue with fluency and if you could only taste it, they would probably tasted like chocolate and strawberries. he’s gaze never left you and truthfully, it’s starting to make you feel embarrassed too. 

the confession was nowhere near perfect. it wasn’t even the most romantic. in fact, it was a love confession in the spur of the moment. but those mere words were enough to fill the void inside of jungwoo and all he could think about is his lips on top of yours. 

“can i kiss you?” 

you nod. and he slowly inclined his face closer to yours and just like that–his warm lips embraced yours. the kiss is a chaste one, neither the two of you were rushing. with carefulness and love, you take everything his lips could offer: the world; the heavens; the universe; everything.