#the entire time i was apologising to her lol

[mainfaggot]

crazy crazy insane thing is that my mom came home after a 12 hour shift and sat with me for 2 straight hours till midnight while i sobbed on the floor of her closet

[hiraethwrote]

heyy can you write some headcannons on Megumi having a crush and how would he act towards her? I can’t really picture him confessing honestly. thank you so much

cw: f!reader, aged up characters, profanity, alcohol, fluff, some hostile behaviour, misunderstandings word count: 2.2k a/n this was supposed to be like a short drabble but i am unable to do that lol (no tags)

Megumi doesn’t have a lot of experience when it comes to having a crush, because no one has managed to catch his eye. Therefore, the realisation that he might have a crush on you comes sneaking up on him. It’s not until he becomes aware that you infiltrate his mind during the most casual moments that it hits him.

He could just be running errands, and he could hear a song playing from a random clothing store he’s walking past and think this would definitely be a song you’d listen to. Or when he witnesses something funny and has to remember to tell you.

When it dawns on him, the first feeling that strikes him is guilt. He can’t help but feel a little sleazy, like he’s become one of those annoying guys who always whine about being stuck in the friend zone — that he is somehow breaking your trust by how he feels about you. So he tries to tell himself that it’s not serious, only silly infatuation because you’re pretty. Nothing more.

Turns out he couldn’t be more wrong, because you continue to plague his mind, the feelings only growing stronger. And with that frustrating new development, there’s a clear shift in your relation — not necessarily for the better. He’ll grow colder and harsher, his tone carrying a hostile weight it didn’t have before.

“Megumi,” you chuckled, “don’t be so proud. It would be easier to just take two trips than try to carry everything at once.“ There was playfulness to your tone that was nothing but kind, indicating that the atmosphere shouldn’t be anything but pleasant. “Yeah, I heard you the first time,” he grumbled in response, stubbornly turning his back to you before he continued as if you’d never said anything at all. You blinked at him a few times in utter disbelief at the unfamiliar edge to his words, waiting for him to face you again to ease the jab with a shy smile. “Oh, sorry,” you muttered carefully when he never met your gaze again. You took the hint, turning on your heel and leaving him alone. Whatever had gotten into him, he clearly didn’t want you around, and you weren’t going to hang around if he was on going to fire tiny comments at you. He shot you a modest look over his shoulder, mentally kicking himself over talking to you that way, and karma would come and bite him soon enough. With a deep sigh, he lifted all the bags, like he had insisted on doing, only to carry them a few feet before the first bag tore, spilling all the items around him. “Fuck.”

Megumi had hoped that putting that (unnatural) distance between the two of you would cause his feelings to disappear, but that quickly proved not to be the case.

After a month of minimal contact, where you only ever interact when you’re hanging out with the entire group, he finds himself missing you. It just wasn’t right not to share those stares whenever someone said something ridiculous, or immediately turn to you when he needed someone else’s opinion.

He decides he wants to ease his way back into your good graces — but he’s a little too embarrassed to straight out apologise for the way he’s been treating you. So he starts off by tuning down his frown towards you when hanging out the whole group.

“Okay, guys, next one- guys, attention over here!” Nobara’s strict voice cut through the crowd, causing the chatter to calm down enough for her to ask the next question. “Who’s most likely to forget to text back?” Without hesitation, Yuji slung the ping pong ball to Megumi, who caught it with one hand — expecting it to come flying in his direction. “Drink up, Fushiguro!” “You know, it’s not that I forget. I just choose not to answer you,” Megumi mocked him before taking a swig of his drink. He couldn’t care less about the offended sounds that stuttered out of Yuji, because he was too hung up on how he had managed to draw the sweet sound of your chuckle from your lips. “Okay, Fushiguro. Who is most likely to make you smile? I’m surprised if there’s anyone that can make you smile,” Nobara snickered, biting the edge of her plastic cup. He rolled his eyes at her comment before swiftly throwing the ball confidently in your direction, causing you to jump a little as it lands in your lap. Your eyes found his immediately, lips parted in surprise. He drew his lips into an awkward line, heat rushing to his cheeks when you tilted your head at him, hiding the warm smile he caused behind your cup as you took a sip.

After that, things go back to normal — well, somewhat normal. You definitely go back to how your friendship used to be before the small hiccup. Megumi, however, has a hard time keeping his cool around you.

The whole ordeal has him easily irritated. Though after you’re little ‘break’, he makes sure never to take it out on you, but that doesn’t mean you don’t witness it. He didn’t have to struggle with something for long before a string of curses escapes him, before he inevitably gives up on whatever task is at hand — only for you to pick it up instead and immediately fix it.

He hates how you disturb every aspect of his life. Before you, he could lay down in his bed and fall asleep the second he closed his eyes. Now… he’d toss and turn into the lonely hours of the night.

During the day, he has (what he thinks is) a very pathetic need to be close to you whenever he has the chance. He tries to play it off as casually as possible, leaving the room when you do because “he needs to stretch his legs” or coming with you to the store even though he doesn’t need anything because “he could do with some fresh air”. Your presence is just comfortable to him, and he wants to wallow in it as much as possible.

Things and gestures he never really thought twice about before, suddenly has his mind raze a million miles an hour. Small things, like when you wanted to show him a funny video and as you hand him your phone, his entire body would feel like it was on fire when your fingers grazed his so gently. Or when you noticed a strand of hair on his shirt, you would simply reach out and remove it, and he instantly became insanely aware of himself.

“All I’m saying, is if Yuji really wanted to, he would just set his alarm-“ Time suddenly moved in slow motion, eyes following your every move as you simply leaned forward, two fingers delicately pinching the stray hair that had landed on his shoulder before rubbing your fingers together to let it fall to the floor. Were you crazy? Why would you do that to him? His breathing picked up its pace, as he now could physically feel every fibre and atom in his body. And now nothing about the way he sat or moved his arms felt natural, entirely convinced you would be able to see right through him. “Hey, Megumi!” Your voice finally snapped him back to the moment, staring at you with big eyes as you were sporting a rather confused expression. “Hmm?” “Did you lose your train of thought or something? You suddenly just stopped talking,” you chuckled. “Uhm, yeah, sorry. Where was I,” he said, shaking his head, trying desperately not to think about how you had taken such an innocent act and made it feel so incredibly intimate.

You do pick up on the change in his behaviour. He isn’t as subtle as he thinks when he purposely lingers around you after everyone has left. And whenever the group does something together, he makes sure to take the seat next to you.

Had it been anyone other than Megumi, you would never have thought twice about the behaviour — but when Megumi, who had always preferred to just keep to himself, suddenly seeks the company of another person, of course one raises an eyebrow in speculation.

You don’t want to assume anything, though. He could just feel bad for how he treated you and this was his way of apologising without saying the words. Nonetheless, you did not mind it at all.

Megumi has no plans on confessing whatsoever. He tries to convince himself he is perfectly content with living in the agony of admiring from your side, even though he’s slowly dying as the feelings just keep growing for every time he watches you smile.

“You know he likes you, right?” Nobara stated confidently as she licked her ice cream. You huffed a laugh, turning to look at her with your eyebrows pinched together. “Yeah, okay.” “Come on! You’re lying if you haven’t noticed.” “There’s nothing to notice, Nobara. He just feels bad for our little falling out,” you sighed as you turned to look at him and Yuji again. Much to Megumi’s dismay, Yuji had forced him on his feet to help him with setting up the chairs and table for the small get together he had arranged that evening. From afar it only seemed like Megumi was scolding Yuji for messing up the chairs again, very clearly frustrated by his inability to perform what was supposed to be an easy task. You felt Nobara’s inquisitive squint drill into your side. “You’re so full of shit.” You spun your head to scowl at her, offence written all over your features. “Well, he’s never going to come clean so you’re going to have to take the lead there.” She earned herself a weak kick to the heel before you shifted your attention to the two boys again, who seemed to be unbelievably lost. After a few seconds, Megumi turned towards you, instantly locking eyes with you. His lips turned upwards in a sweet smile as his hand raised in a small wave.

Megumi will continue to stay close to you, endlessly embarrassed every time you have his voice hitch in his throat because you’re just to breathtaking when doing… anything really.

After Nobara was the first person to breathe life into the idea of his crush on you out loud, it suddenly seemed like that was the reason behind everything he did. You couldn’t hide behind the suspicion that he felt guilty anymore, because it had gone on for too long.

Once you see it, how devoted he seems to be to you in the most mundane aspects of your life, you quickly realise that the feeling is mutual. There’s something about being the one person to melt the heart of the most stoic person you know. How he who always parades around with a grumpy expression, avoiding other people, chooses to basically follow you around with just the tiniest smile dancing at the corner of his lips at all times.

“You can have it,” Megumi said, sliding the plate with the last slice of pizza directly in front of you. “What?” “I said you can have it,” a slightly teasing lilt to his voice. You only stared at him with big eyes before your eyebrows narrowed. “You always claim the last slice.” He simply shrugged. “‘M not hungry.” You leaned back in your seat, crossing your arms over your chest and you simply stared at him, trying to uncover whatever was running through his mind. His face slowly turned the faintest shade of red before he finally managed to avert his gaze. “Time to spit it out, Fushiguro,” you demanded. “Since when do you use my last na-“ “Don’t try and change the subject.” Your sudden strict tone had him swallow the lump in his throat. “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he whispered coyly, fingers toying with the unused fork in front of him. “Do you like me?” The blunt confession had his heart beat against his chest with the force of a thousand suns, pounding so loud it filled his ears, eyes drawn to yours again. “Of course, we’re friends-“ the sentence died in his throat at the fierce scowl you gifted him, head tilted forward in annoyance. “Yes.” The creased evidence of previous frustration relaxed as the innocent word spilled from his lips, shoulders slumping in a new sensation of peace. On the other side of the table, Megumi sat with the most intense stress he could ever remember feeling, only reinforced by how calm and quiet you became. “Huh,” you said lightheartedly. “Why didn’t you just say so?” It was his turn to furrow his eyebrows, surprised by the casual tone in your voice. “I like you too, dumbass.” “Oh,” he blinked. His heart slowly started to calm down to try and ground himself in order to deduce if this was one of his countless dreams of you or not. After a second, a genuine warm smile came to show on your lips, one of those that always made his heart skip a beat, and he realised this was in fact real.

Megumi having a crush on you works out in his favour in the end.

reblogs, likes and comments are appreciated plagiarism not authorized

[jiniretracha]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐀𝐥𝐜𝐡𝐞𝐦𝐲 - Jeon Jungkook (1)

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x fem!reader / Park Jimin x fem!reader (but not quite, you'll see)

Warnings: Angst, Fluff, Future smut

Summary: You were supposed to spend your happily ever after with Jeon Jungkook... until a family issue causes him to leave and a sudden break up leaves you bereft in the arms of your best friend, Park Jimin.

Word count: 6.7k

PS: this is heavily entirely inspired in the last two episode of True Beauty (so consider this a huge spoiler if you haven't seen it) cause i've been a fan of it since it came out and I just had to do something about it lol

MASTERLIST // my Ko-Fi // SERIES MASTERLIST

CHAPTER 1: 𝐇𝐨𝐰 𝐃𝐢𝐝 𝐈𝐭 𝐄𝐧𝐝?

“Bottoms up!” Seokjin loudly cheered as you and your friends downed your soju shots. 

You looked at your now-empty glass of soju, liquid that was now burning down your throat. But you couldn’t care less about it. It had been the most tiring day ever, like every day since you started being an assistant to a supermodel newcomer, Nari.

Your eyelids were feeling heavy, dizzy with alcohol and sleep that your body was begging for since the beginning of the day. 

“Hey, Y/N-innie,” Taehyung called you, twirling a strand of hair from her girlfriend’s hair, Karina, your high school best friend, while he talked. “Nari gave you trouble today?” he asked, sipping on his drink. 

With a huff and an eyeroll, you nodded, letting your forehead drop on your palm. “Yeah, fuck, you don’t know how much her voice just irritates me, let alone her demands!” you cried, slurring almost every word. “Ever since Jimin dropped me off that one time, like- when was it? Like, a month ago? She’s been bugging me about getting her a date with him ever since” you cried.

“Then, why doesn’t he take her out?” Karina shrugs.

“Because he doesn’t like her” you sighed, pouring more soju on your shot cup.

Seokjin snorts and shakes his head. “Of course he doesn’t. Who wouldn’t?” he asks with a smile. “I stalked her Insta the other day. She’s pretty and all, don’t get me wrong, but bitch is obnoxious” he hisses.

Your eyebrows arch. “See?” you say to Taehyung and Karina. 

Taehyung laughs. “Where is Jimin, by the way?” he asked, his head turning towards the door. “He said he’d be here by 10 and that was thirty minutes ago” Tae said, looking at you.

You let out a huff. “I don’t know, honestly. He said he was practicing with his new band” you downed your soju shot and then let out a cry. “At this point he’ll abandon us for his new friends” 

“Oh no, not another Jungkook” Seokjin chuckles.

But nobody at the table laughed. Not even a smile was sent his way.

Karina glared at him.

Taehyung narrowed his eyes.

And you, you simply stared at the table in front of you. 

“S-sorry. Didn’t realise it was still a sensitive topic. Sorry” he apologised. If he were a dog, he’d have his tail between his legs, and his ears bowed down in shame along with his head. 

You sighed and used it as an excuse to pour another soju shot. 

Karina looked at you and her expression softened with worry. “Y/N, babe, don’t you think… don’t you think you’ve had enough for today?” she asked.

“Nope”

“How many shots have you downed since we got here?” she asked you, placing a hand over yours.

“I don’t know. And I don’t care” you said, throwing back the shot. “That’s better” 

Taehyung sighed and dug his hand inside his pocket. He clicked on the chat he had with Jimin and sent him another text.

Tae: Jimin hyung. We have a problem. It’s Y/N, hurry tf up. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Jimin walked inside the restaurant with a pant and looked around in search of his friends.

“Jimin-ssi” Taehyung waved his hand and Jimin walked faster towards them. 

“Hey!” he panted and his eyes fell towards you.

You were slumped over the table, head inside your arms, as you mumbled incoherent nonsense against the fabric of your cashmere black sweater. 

He smiled slightly and sat on the empty seat next to yours.

“Why did you let her drink so much, you guys?” Jimin scolded them as he got comfortable.

“Yo, blame her, not us bro. She’s a big girl” Seokjin cried. “She needed those drinks. Her day at work sucked”

Jimin let out a sigh and put a hand over your back. 

“Y/N, hey. It’s me, come on. Wake up” he whispered gently as he tried to move you.

Your head shot up and you opened your eyes. You instantly smiled and let out a little chuckle.

“Hello, you…” you drawled out, poking his cheek. 

Jimin gave you a toothy smile. “Yeah, hi, sleeping beauty” he chuckled. 

“I’m sorry…” you said and let your head fall on his shoulder.

He froze in his spot and reluctantly put an arm around you, caressing your shoulder.

His eyes looked up and found Tae and Karina smirking at him. He sent them a frown and a grimace, like stop meddling!

With a sigh, you straightened up and blinked your eyes open. “This is all your fault” you spat at him.

Jimin’s smile fell. “Huh?” he asked, utterly confused.

“Every day at work is a day in hell because of that nagging bitch Nari, why can’t you just do me that favour!” you yelled, grabbing his collar and shaking him a little.

“Wait, wait, Y/N” Jimin said, prying your hands off of him. 

“Y/N, go easy on him” Karina chuckled.

You looked at her and then back at Jimin and let him go with a sigh. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Jimin helped you out of the restaurant while Seokjin, Karina and Tae trailed behind. 

“You got her, right? You can drive her home?” Tae asked.

Jimin smiled and nodded, looking at you, slumped against him with a drunk smile. “Yeah, I’ve handled her before, so…” he trailed off with a shrug.

“That’s great, please text us when you guys get home, okay?” Karina said to all of you.

“Yeah, we will” Jimin said, waving at the three friends walking away.

“Buh-bye!” you slurred and then hiccuped.

“Come on, young lady…” he said and helped you walk through the streets.

You turned your head to the side and gasped when you saw the river in front of the restaurant. “Wow…” you breathed out.

Jimin let out a chuckle. “You do that every time we go out to this bar” 

You looked up at him and blushed. “I know, I just love the river” you shrugged.

Your friend eyed you and grabbed your hand, “Come on, let’s sit and look at it, shall we?” 

You smiled and nodded, jumping up and down but he grabbed your waist and pinned you to the ground.

“No jumping”

You grumbled. “Okay, grandpa”

He chuckled and helped you cross the street, leading you to sit on a bench that faced the beautiful view of Han River at night. He sighed when he had you sat down and he did the same, next to you. He curled his arm around you and stared at your face. 

“You okay?” he asked you, handing you a bottle of water he had in his bag.

“Thank you, and yeah, I think so” you sighed, drinking a little from the bottle. “I just have a lot going on, that’s all” 

“Tell me”

“No… it’s always the same” you slurred. “It’s me telling you about my problems when you’re probably on your way to becoming the next big thing. You needn’t worry about my stupid middle class issues”

Jimin cackled. “Hey, I’m middle class, too!” 

“Yeah, well. Not anymore, that’s for sure” you grumbled. 

Jimin giggled. “Come on, let’s get you sober” he said, pushing the bottle closer to you. “Drink it, now”

You chuckled at his tone and gave it a big gulp. 

Once you placed the bottle down next to you, you gave him a dizzy look. 

“What’s up” he smiled.

“Jiminnie” you started. “Can’t you just… like- a little bit, just… take her out? For once?” you pleaded him.

“Y/N…” he huffed. “I said no, okay?”

You groaned. “You could make my life so much easier. I'm not talking- like- dating and stuff, marry her or some shit. I'm just asking you to take her to dinner, once. That's all I'm asking” you insisted, putting your hands together in a praying manner.

“I don't like her! I find her just as infuriating as you do” Jimin cried.

“I know, I know. But just once… you can like- totally dump her after that” you continued. 

Jimin looked down, clearly uncomfortable. “Please stop” he told you and you bit your lip, to contain pleading him much further. “Don’t tell me to meet some other girl, alright?” he asked you, with a straight face. 

You frowned at his tone, so unlikely of his character.

“It makes me mad” he sighed. 

“Why?” 

“Why do you ask?” he chuckled and looked away. “I think you should know how I feel by now, Y/N” 

You gave Jimin a confused look.

He pressed his tongue against his cheek. “She’s drunk, Jimin. Come on” he whispered to himself. 

You grabbed his hand and gave him puppy eyes. “Tell me… It’s okay, I’ll probably remember tomorrow” 

Jimin looked at you, completely enamoured by you and his eyes couldn't help but drift down to your mouth. Your plump bottom lip was jutted and it was giving him the mad urge to bite it. But he had to pull himself together. 

You, as drunk as you were, realised that Jimin, in that moment, wanted to kiss you.

“Jimin?” you asked him.

“Yeah?” he asked you, his gaze not pulling away from your lips.

“Can we… can we go home?” you stuttered. “I’m kind of freezing”

Jimin pulled away all of a sudden and blinked. 

Of course.

“Y-yeah, let’s go” he whispered. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

The next day, you sat up on your bed holding your head in your hands. 

“Fuck! Fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m never drinking again” you whispered to yourself.

The door opened and Jimin walked inside the room, holding a cup of tea in his hands and a tablet of Advil in his hand.

“You say that every time” he chuckled.

You sighed and let him sit next to you, as he handed you the cup and the Advil. “I know, but I think this time I mean it” you licked your lips, downing the pill. “Thank you, Chim”

He smiled and put the cup down. “You’re welcome”

You grabbed his arm and smiled, remembering all of a sudden. “How did practice go? Did they tell you when’s your debut date?” 

“Nope” he shook his head. “But I have a great feeling about it, actually” he nodded. “I think it’s closer than we all think”

“I think it’s around the corner. No, it’s behind you. It’s like, breathing down your neck” you smiled, sipping on the tea while he chuckled.

“That’s sweet of you, Y/N” he blushed. 

“I’m just telling you the truth” you shrugged and he pressed his lips together. 

“Thank you” he chuckled. 

You swallowed the tea and left the cup by your nightstand.

“Did I gave you a hard time last night?” you asked him, really not wanting him to answer that question but also wanting him to. “You know, I don’t remember how I got so drunk” 

He patted your hair and gave you a smile. “No, just… you were very insistent” he frowned.

You pulled your face back. “What? With what?”

“With the Nari thing” he replied. 

Your shoulders deflated. “Oh, yeah” you nodded. “Sorry about that. It’s just that… she’s like… making me hate my job”

“But you love it” he frowned.

“I know! I love it, and that’s the worst part” you said.

He sighed. “I’ll think of something” Jimin tried.

Your eyes widened. “You will?” you asked with a smile.

“I’ll try, I said” 

You clapped your hands and hugged him. “Oh, thank you, Chim. I love you!” you squealed.

Yeah… 

“I love you, too” he said, patting your back. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

You walked down the steps of the building hall with Jimin, as he grabbed the keys from his car from his pocket.

“Thank you… again, Chim, for taking me here. I’m really lucky to have someone who’s there to save my ass every time” you chuckled. 

He giggled and pushed your shoulder slightly. “Don’t mention it, and don’t get sappy on me. I might throw up” 

You laughed and looked away. “I won’t… sorry” 

You got flashbacks from the events from the night prior.

How he had looked at your lips.

How he had looked at you with want.

You hadn’t been looked like that since-

“Hey, you okay?” Jimin asked you, placing a hand on your shoulder, pulling you back to earth. 

You blinked. “Um, Chim… you- you wanted to say something to me last night. You remember?” you asked him. 

He licked his lips. “I- I- uh…” he stammered. 

You noticed his discomfort and you let out a sigh. 

“Chim… don’t tell me-”

“I’m sorry” he looked away, ashamed.

You closed your eyes. “Chim, come on” 

“I know” he said, his eyes getting teary.

You grabbed his hands and made him look at you. “It’s not worth it… I’m… not worth it”

Jimin smiled. “Yeah, you are. You’re just… blind, I guess” he chuckled a little.

You smiled. “No, I’m really not. I’m a dumbass, who’s too stupid to get over his ex” you exploded. “And you deserve someone who gives you her full attention. And doesn’t have baggage like me”

“Why don’t you let me help you?” he asked you.

“What?” you asked, confused. “With- with what?”

“Help you get over him…”

「 ✦ 𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐭𝐢𝐜 𝐡𝐮𝐧𝐠𝐞�� 𝐝𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬

𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐧𝐨 𝐨𝐧𝐞, 𝐞𝐱𝐜𝐞𝐩𝐭 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬

𝐖𝐞 𝐦𝐮𝐬𝐭 𝐤𝐧𝐨𝐰: 𝐡𝐨𝐰 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐢𝐭 𝐞𝐧𝐝? ✦ 」

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 A YEAR AGO 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Jungkook walked through the halls of the hospital, his breathing was heavy and his eyes were drenched with tears. 

He knew his father and him didn’t have the greatest relationship out of all, but he wasn’t going to deny that he loved him.

It was his only parent alive, and he wasn’t about to lose him just like he lost his mother. At least, without saying goodbye. 

He pushed the door open from his room and found him lying in his hospital bed.

Jungkook blinked a couple of times, trying not to cry in front of the nurses that were cleaning up his room. 

They all looked at him and gave him a sympathetic look.

He sighed and went to sit down next to him, feeling the nurses scurry away from the room to give him some privacy with his father. Jungkook grabbed his hand and watched him breathe in and out, with his mask placed on his face. He looked so peaceful and he feared that if he touched him too harshly, he’d break.

“I’m here…” he whispered against his palm. “I’m here, dad” 

His dad’s eyes blinked open and he made a surprise noise. 

“I… Jungkook” he tried to smile. 

“Dad” he smiled, caressing his arm.

“I’m sorry” he breathed out. “I’m sorry, Jungkook” he said and tried taking off his mask.

“No, no, no” Jungkook cried softly, tears falling on his face. “Keep it, you need that”

He grabbed his son’s hand and placed it close to his heart. 

“I thought… I’d go without being able to see you” he breathed out. “You traveled all the way to the US to see me?” 

He smiled at him and nodded. “I did, dad” he smiled.

Jungkook had flied all the way to Minnesota, just to see his dad after receiving a call that he had been urged to the hospital. 

“Thank you, son” he grinned, patting Jungkook’s hand. “Did you tell Y/N you’re here?” 

He nodded. “Yeah, she actually drove me all the way to the airport”

His dad chuckled. “That girl… she’s special, huh?”

“Yeah, she’s really something” Jungkook chuckled, feeling his chest tighten at how much love his heart held for you. 

“I’d… I’d like to meet her sometime, if you let me” his dad asked him.

Jungkook looked away and wiped the tears from his face. 

“I know, I know I fucked up” he sighed. 

“Shh… please try to sleep, okay?” he asked his dad. 

His dad nodded weakly and his eyes slowly closed. 

Jungkook sat up and pressed a kiss to his forehead. “I’ll see you later, okay?” he whispered and kissed his forehead once again. 

He left the room, and let out a sigh. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

A few weeks later, Jungkook opened the door to his room at the hospital that was connected to the one his father had, and let out a breath when he let himself fall on the bed with a thud.

With a groan, he stretched his back and let all the muscles and bones crack. 

He felt his phone buzzing in the pocket of his jeans and he quickly took it out from it.

Jungkook felt his mouth widen in a lovesick smile and pressed answer immediately.

“Jagiya! What are you doing up at this hour? Isn’t it like… the middle of the night in Seoul?” he asked, checking the watch he had on his wrist.

You giggled on the other side. “I was studying, that’s it” he heard her giggle and he sat up on the bed. “Are you at the airport yet?” 

“No, I just got back from taking care of him. You know, giving him food with a fork like a baby and shit. I’m being picked up in an hour or so” he smiled. “Dad’s going to be discharged soon though, I don’t know if I’m gonna have to go back again, you know?” 

“You wanna fly with your dad?” you asked him. 

“Yeah, kind of” he shrugged. “But… at the same time, I don’t wanna leave you, you know?” he chuckled. 

“Aw, you love me” you sing-songed.

“Didn’t you know yet?” he giggled. “Head over heels” 

You squealed on the other side of the line and his heart doubled its size. “I love you too, my Jungkookie” 

“Ah, I miss you, Jagi” he sighed.

“Me too” you smiled. “But we’re seeing each other in hours so… don’t miss me too much” 

“That is literally impossible” he let out a breath.

“Okay, okay, enough with me. How’s your dad?” you asked him. 

“He’s alright, I guess. He’s completely awake now, and well, he’s tired as hell” he told you. “But they told me that everything is a good sign. I mean, he had a heart attack, he could’ve died… literally speaking. But, you know, he’s recovering, and he’s doing well. And I trust them” 

“That’s good, then” you told him, with genuine happiness.

“Yeah, it is”

“I told you everything was going to be okay, Kookie” you said softly.

“You’re always right”

“I’m always right, indeed. You’re a smart boy” you giggled.

He repeated the action and giggled too.

“You know, it’s been a month since we’ve seen each other”

“Yeah” he nodded. “I miss you so much” he said, again.

“I know, you told me” you chuckled. “And I miss you too… you know, I can come meet you at the airport” 

“No, Jagi, don’t worry. I’ll head to you as soon as I arrive” Jungkook reassured you. 

“No! I really want to go!” you whined.

Jungkook rolled his eyes with a smile. “You’re not gonna let it go, are you?”

“Nope.”

“Alright, you can come to the airport” Jungkook said.

“Yay” you squealed.

“Okay, missy. You gotta go to sleep, it’s Thursday. You have uni tomorrow” Jungkook scolded.

“Yes, sir”

He felt his cock stir at the sudden name you used. “Y/N…”

“Yeah?” you said, feigning innocence. 

“I’m hanging up” he chuckled.

“Okay” you said and he heard you yawn. “I’ll see you tomorrow, my love. I love you”

“See you tomorrow, Jagi. Love you”

He hung up the call and let the phone drop on the bed.

A few minutes later, he got a call from the uber that was waiting for him outside the Hospital.

He grabbed his suitcase and got out of the room, but the moment he did, he saw three paramedics running with a hospital bed, in which laid a patient he knew really well: his dad.

His eyes widened and he ran, following them as they got inside the Operating room. When he got to the door, a nurse intercepted him and he was sure she was telling him to step back, but with all his yelling, he couldn’t hear a thing. 

“Dad!” he yelled, “Dad!” 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

You got to the airport with a huge smile on your face and sat down on a bench by the arrivals gate. You were chewing your lip anxiously and excitedly at the same time because you were dying to see your boyfriend. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

“Your dad had a cardiac arrest, boy” the doctor in charge of the surgery said, taking off his face mask.

Jungkook felt his heart drop to his feet as he stared wordlessly at the doctor.

“His vitals are stable, however… his condition is still serious” the doctor said. “We’ll do whatever it takes to get your dad back to your home country, don’t worry” he smiled slightly, patting Jungkook’s shoulder and heading back to the operation room.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Two hours passed… then three… and then four.

Jungkook was nowhere in sight.

It got to a point where you stared at the floor, feeling numb. The sadness had left your body a while ago and it was just hopelessness.

You decided to get up from the bench, paid for the parking and went straight home. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

The next day, you sat with Karina next to you at your uni class, while staring at your textbook. 

You felt her shake your shoulder and you looked at her, only to find her giving you a look that screamed: I pity you.

“Hey, babe. You alright?” she asked.

Bless her soul.

You plastered a fake smile and nodded. “Yeah, just… distracted. That’s all” you lied.

She furrowed her eyebrows but let it go. 

You felt your phone buzz and you immediately grabbed it. 

Disappointment filled your body when you saw it was just a dumb Instagram notification. With a sigh, you opened the messaging app and clicked on the chat with your boyfriend. 

You eyed the past messages you and Jungkook had shared, and the last you had sent him.

You: How’s your dad?

Jungkook: the same

You: did you at least get some sleep, baby?

He hadn’t replied to that one. 

You licked your lips and pressed your eyes together, trying to refrain yourself from crying in front of a whole class. How embarrassing. 

By the end of the day, you felt your stomach killing you with anxiety, to the point that when you got to your home, you had to bend over from the pain. 

You groaned, and gasped, feeling your feet shake from the pain.

Karina, who happened to be your roommate at the time, saw you on the floor and gasped, running towards you.

“Y/N! Y/N! You okay? Hey, look at me!” she desperately said, grabbing your face. 

“Kari- Kari, please take me to the hospital” you wheezed out.

“Yeah, yeah, come on” she said. “Hold on to me”

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

A few hours later, Karina watched you sleep in a hospital bed. They had given you medication for the stomach pain and some pills for future anxiety attacks like the one you had.

She sighed as she stared at you.

“She’s gonna be fine, babe” Taehyung, your longtime friend, and since two months ago, Karina’s boyfriend, said, rubbing her back.

“I know, she will be. But it’s what's causing it that's worrying me, you know?” Karina bit her lip.

With a long breath out, she smiled at her boyfriend. 

Your phone vibrated on the little stand next to the bed.

Jungkook, it read. 

Karina and Taehyung looked at each other and nodded. Karina picked up the call and tried her best to sound calm.

“Hey, Jungkook” she said. 

“Oh, Karina. Hi” he smiled slightly. “How have you been?”

“I’m fine, how about you?” Karina replied. 

Jungkook sighed. “Well, I’m… holding on, I guess. Where’s- where’s Y/N?” he asked shakily. 

Karina looked at your sleeping form and chewed on her lip. “Um, don’t freak out. Y/N’s at the hospital right now, we’re taking care of he-”

“WHAT?” Jungkook yelled. “How- how did that happen? Is she okay?”

“Oh gosh, calm down. She’s fine, Jungkook. It’s not serious. She just had an anxiety attack and her stomach was killing her” Karina explained it all to Jungkook. “The exams we’ve had lately are killing us and well… you know, what’s going on with your dad took a toll on her, too. I’m not gonna lie to you, Kook” 

“Can- can I speak to her, please?” Jungkook asked, in a small voice. 

“I’m sorry, she’s asleep. They gave her some strong medicine that kicked her lights out” Karina chuckled a little. “How’s your dad, Jungkook?”

“He’s not well, yet” Jungkook whispered.

Karina hummed. Tae crouched down and said, “Hey, Jungkookie, we miss you”

Jungkook smiled. “Hey, Tae” he chuckled.

“Okay, that’s enough, adults are talking” Karina jokingly pushed his boyfriend away, making him pout at her. “Well, we wish you and him nothing but the best from here. We’ll tell her to call you when she wakes up”

Jungkook nodded. “Right, thank you” he said quietly. 

Jungkook hung up and Karina left the phone by the stand with a sigh.

“I hope he’s okay” Tae told her.

Karina grabbed his hand and kissed the back of it. “He will be. And Y/N-nnie will be too” 

Taehyung nodded and hugged his girlfriend.

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Once you got home, you got ready for bed in your usual pajamas: one of Jungkook’s shirts and a pair of worn out shorts. 

As you let yourself get comfortable under the sheets, you felt your phone ringing and you quickly grabbed it, smiling slightly when you saw your boyfriend's name on the screen.

You swiped to answer the call and calmed yourself. 

“Hey, Kook! How are you, honey” you smiled. “It feels like we haven’t talked in forever”

“Hey… right” he trailed off.

Jungkook was sitting on a hospital bench, outside of his father’s room. His leg was bouncing up and down with the nerves racking over his body. 

“Are you doing okay?”

“Yeah!” you lied. “I am, actually. Of course. I actually passed my last test yesterday so…” 

“That’s great” Jungkook breathed out in a smile. 

“I know!” you squealed. “I was so nervous. But well, if I’m going to be the best makeup artist ever, I gotta pass the hardest tests, I mean, right?” 

“Yeah” Jungkook said, biting his lip and rolling his lip ring with his tongue. “Y/N…”

“Yeah, babe?”

Jungkook pressed his eyes together at the nickname. “We… we should break up” he said all in one breath. 

You blinked a couple of times, feeling your heart stopping its beating for a couple of seconds. “Huh?” you asked in a small voice. “What do you mean?”

“Waiting on my dad without knowing when he’ll wake up… must be hard for you too” Jungkook said, feeling the tears he had tried so hard to hold in his eyes, starting to fall. He sniffled and looked down to his feet. “It’s not fair to you”

You felt your vision getting blurry with tears. “What- what are you talking about?” you asked him. “It’s not hard for me at all, Jungkook” you lied. “I can wait, it’s all right”

“I don’t feel that’s what you deserve, Jagiya. I can’t even be there for you when you need me” Jungkook cried. “I feel so bad about it”

“You don’t have to feel bad about me, Jungkook” you cried.

“But I do! You’ve had an anxiety attack and I couldn’t even be there for you. God knows what else you might be going through or what you’ll go through and I’ll be unable to be there for you because of my current situation!” Jungkook said, his face completely soaked with tears of sadness. 

“I said I’m fine, Kook. Why are you doing this?” you sobbed. Jungkook didn’t answer. “I don’t want to break up. Nuh-uh” you shook your head as you frowned. “I can- fuck, I can even make money to fly back and fourth but we’re not over, we’re not!” 

“I… I can’t let you do that” Jungkook chuckled humorlessly. 

“Why not? Jungkook, that is my decision” you told him.

Jungkook smiled at your words and how you stood your ground. Just like you’ve always done. 

“Do well in Uni, Jagi. Don’t wait for my calls anymore, okay?” he asked softly. 

“Stop it, stop it, stop it!” You cried, almost grabbing your hair and ripping it out of your head from how he was talking. “Don’t say it like it’s our last time”

“It is…” he sobbed.

“No, I’m hanging up, Jungkook. You can call me when you’re in your right mind. Okay?” you said and hung up. 

You threw your phone further away on the bed and dropped your face on your pillow, sobbing your lungs out and kicking your feet. 

Karina came into the room, hearing your cries and immediately wrapped her arms around you, soothing you.

Meanwhile, in the United States, Jungkook stared at his phone and let out a sob that racked through his whole body. He let his head drop and cried, alone in a hospital hallway, his shoulders shaking. 

「 ✦ 𝐖𝐞 𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐞 𝐛𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐨 𝐮𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐜𝐢𝐫𝐜𝐮𝐦𝐬𝐭𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬

𝐖𝐞 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐞𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩𝐬 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐟𝐟𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧𝐭 𝐝𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬

𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐯𝐢𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐦 𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐨𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐬' 𝐠𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬

𝐋𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞, 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐬?✦ 」

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

The days went by slowly, oh so slowly. It was torture. Seokjin, the one who knew how to cheer you up the most, didn’t know what to do. He had run out of jokes to tell you, the ones he knew that he’d have you cackling and grabbing your stomach in seconds. 

Jimin, whom you’ve always considered your soulmate, always reminding each other how scary it was how alike you thought, didn’t even know what you were thinking now. He couldn’t decode what was on your head anymore. 

Karina didn’t know what to do either. She didn’t want to pressure you into going out to get your mind off things, but she also didn’t want you to mope around forever in your shared apartment. 

Taehyung was going crazy as well, because he knew that Jungkook, one of his best friends, wasn’t going to come around any time soon and, because he cared for you, he felt so bad for you as well. 

A month passed by and Karina had moved out of the apartment to Taehyung’s. You were genuinely happy for her, because you knew how long it had taken for those two to confess their feelings, and you knew how much they loved each other. 

But, at the same time, you were jealous of her. Because you didn’t get to have that with Jungkook, and you knew that you weren’t going to have that. 

At the same time, you wanted to have all of those things but you didn't want it with anybody that wasn’t Jeon Jungkook. And it hurt like hell.

Jimin was the one who was the most present and there for you during your break up. He’d bring you your favorite ramen, bring you take out, bring you the snacks you knew you’d like, bring you pads for your periods, etc. 

He had been your rock throughout the whole process, and it made you realize just how lucky you were to have him.

“Thank you, Chim” you smiled at him when he handed you the ramen bowl.

He smiled. “You’re welcome, Y/N-innie” he said, patting your hair.

“No. Not only for the ramen, I mean. For- for everything you’ve done so far” you said, your eyes lining up with tears. “I’m so thankful to have a friend like you. I’m really lucky”

Jimin bowed his head down at the mention of the word friend, but he let it slide, for your and his own sake. “Yeah, don’t mention it. I know you’d do the same for me”

“Of course” you smiled, and grabbed his hand. 

He covered your hand with his free hand and smiled at you. “You know, I’ve been to therapy these past couple of years and one thing that I found really… really helpful for… you know… letting go of some unsaid feelings, thoughts, whatever is going through your mind, is to write them down in letter form” he said. 

“Chim-”

“I know. It’s just an idea. Something that worked for me” Jimin spoke softly to you, caressing your hand. “You can address it to… you know who, and tell that person how you feel, without sending it to him actually. It worked for me” he shrugged

You didn’t say anything.

“I’ll bring you some diet coke, is that okay?” Jimin said, standing up from the bed.

You sighed and nodded. “Yeah. You know me so well, thanks” you chuckled.

“No worries”

Once he left, you placed the bowl on the nightstand and went to your desk to grab your phone that had just finished charging. 

Accidentally, on your way back to bed, you bumped your hip into your desk chair, making the bag that was on it, fall to the floor.

“Shit” you said, grabbing your hip in pain and crouching down to put your bag on the desk chair again.

When you moved the bag out of the way, you saw something underneath your desk. You quickly grabbed it with a frown and your heart started beating faster when you saw what it was.

It was a photo strip taken at a photobooth, with you and Jungkook in it, kissing, looking so in love like you had always been. It had written in sharpie: happy 11 months, babe!

You felt a tear run down your cheek at the memory. It was a gift he had given you 3 months ago, for your 11th month anniversary. You couldn’t even celebrate a full year together because you had broken up a week prior to the date. 

Your chin quivered with sadness and turned the picture down, unable to continue staring at it. 

But as you turned it down, you realised that something was written at the back. 

“I hope we can go to Namsan, to make a wish upon the first snow… so we can be together forever” 

You frowned as you cried. 

Now, that wish, to be together forever, was further away than Jungkook. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

The next day, you walked out of Uni with Karina and Seokjin by your side, chuckling at some dumb story that Seokjin had told. 

“Oh God, shut up, Jin” Karina rolled her eyes. 

“No, Karina, but I’m telling you. We have to go to that Karaoke again” he insisted. “We’ll have so much fun, this time, Y/N-innie, you’re coming with us. No exceptions”

“Okay, okay” you sighed.

Karina and Seokjin turned to look at each other and squealed. “Yeah!” Seokjin said, grabbing your waist and twirling you around.

“Y/N’s back!” Karina smiled, clapping her hands.

“Oh God, put me down, Seokjin!” you yelled.

“Sorry” he mumbled.

You chuckled and then gasped, feeling something dropping on your hand.

Your eyes fell to the back of your hand and saw a white, little, snowflake. 

“Oh, it’s snowing, look!” Karina gasped.

You looked up and saw the snowy weather. 

Why did everything remind you of him?

That night, you couldn’t help but drive all the way to Namsan Tower, and as you reached the outer observatory, you sat down on a bench and sighed. 

“Okay… here goes my wish” you whispered under your breath. “I wish… to get the job I applied for last week. I really hope I get it, I’m needing the money” you sighed. 

You licked your lips and looked up.

“And I wish for Jungkook’s dad to get okay” you said. “I guess, that’s a little selfish, wishing twice” you brushed the snow from your hair and stood up, ready to go home. “Whatever wish comes true… I’m happy with either of those” Feeling like you’ve completed your purpose, you walked out of Namsan Tower, and went straight back home. 

「 ✦ 𝐒𝐢𝐥𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞𝐝 𝐚𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥 𝐰𝐚𝐬 𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐞𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 𝐨𝐟 𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 ✦ 」

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Jungkook sat by his dad’s hospital bed, while scrolling down on the gallery app.

It was self-torture, he knew that, but he couldn’t stop thinking about you, and he felt the need to go through every photo you’ve taken together. 

He swiped over every photo, memorizing every feature on your face and recalling every memory behind every single photo. 

He stopped when he reached a particular one.

You were on his bed, wearing his shirt. You were holding his brother’s new pup, the one he had given you two to care of for a week because he had gone on vacation. 

He felt a sob rack through his throat at the memory, one which he recalls was the happiest of his life. 

He didn’t know how happy he was back then, but now, he knows he had never been happier. 

And it was all because of you. 

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

Once you got back home, you sat on your desk and grabbed your macbook, opening it. 

You remembered Jimin’s words. 

Write a letter to Jungkook, addressing it to him, without sending it. Just to free some feelings.

That was easy.

You grabbed a hair tie, wrapping it around your hair in a bun and let out a shaky breath.

Dear Jungkook,

It’s been almost 2 months since our last call. I guess you can say I’ve been doing fine, academically speaking. 

I’ve passed my classes and I’m only one exam away from getting my degree early with Karina. We’re so excited. We honestly cannot wait to start working already. 

I wonder if you’ve started studying music over there. I know that Jimin and you would’ve been such a power music couple. You would’ve broken every single record. I hope one day I can hear the music you made. You know, even the ones you played for me. 

I know I stopped texting. And I’m sure you’re wondering why. But it’s because I realized that maybe this was for the better. Maybe we weren’t supposed to be together for the rest of our lives like we had planned. Like we wanted to. Like I wanted to. At some point, I got tired of the read status. It made me sad. I can’t do that to myself anymore. 

It’s snowing here. I hope the place you’re in is warm, I know you don’t enjoy cold weather that much. 

I won’t contact you anymore.

I promise.

I just felt like this was for the better. Writing a goodbye letter to get closure.

So that we can get some closure.

So that I can get some closure.

Goodbye.

You finished writing the letter and pressed your lips together. 

Your eyes looked up on the screen and saw Jungkook’s contact on the message inbox. 

Without a second thought, you copied the letter and sent it to him. You quickly shut the macbook and stood up from the desk. You let yourself fall on your ass on the bed, placing your back against the bedpost. 

The tears fell across your cheeks, like a waterfall.

Closure. That’s exactly what was needed. 

「 ✦ 𝐋𝐞𝐚𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐟𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐫𝐞𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐧𝐠

𝐌𝐲 𝐛𝐞𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐝 𝐠𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐦𝐞

𝐒𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐧 𝐚 𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐞

𝐃-𝐘-𝐈-𝐍-𝐆 ✦ 」

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟 PRESENT DAY 𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 𓆟

“Y/N?” 

“Huh?” you blinked.

Jimin let out a little laugh. “Did you hear what I just said?” he asked.

You licked your lips. “Yeah…”

“Well, will you let me?” Jimin asked. “Will you let me help you get over him?” 

You looked at your feet and got nervous. “I- I don’t know, Chim” 

“I’m not trying to pressure you” Jimin said, putting his hands up in a defensive manner. “Just let me take you out. Once… twice… as many times as you want” 

“That’s why you got annoyed that I kept bringing Nari up, huh?” you asked.

“Well… yeah, kind of” Jimin chuckled. 

You chewed on your lip. 

“Okay”

Jimin frowned. “Okay… what?”

You smiled. “I’ll let you take me out, Chim”

∘₊✧──────✧₊∘

let me know what you think :))

PREVIOUS // NEXT

[clowns0cks]

so, I got asked what's the spymaster timeline argument and why do I argue about it so much and keep defending spymaster lol so I wrote a long ass thing that I want to share with you.

SO. there are different arguments for people I argue with

1. having the master back as evil ruins Missy's arc and they hate him

2. having the master back as evil doesn't make sense after missy but would make sense before missy

3. They just fucking hate him god knows why.

4. A mix of these

Now. I have strong opinions, and those strong opinions are that I don't have a problem with dhawan master at all. I think he simply fits in after missy in the most normal way possible. I never saw a problem with it and I find it confusing that people do. Cause?? Imagine dying, then regenerating and realising the doctor has left you alone, but fair, cause he didn't know. So you go on gallifrey, hoping he shows up. While you're there you start hacking into the matrix for fun, cause you're the master and you like having a bit of fun. You discover horrible things. The doctor is not who they think they are, the time lords are not what you thought they were and all of your species including yourself is a product of the doctor's DNA.

This places the doctor as some kind of god. The origin of the time lords. They weren't time lords before the doctor, just gallifreyans, with no real power or anything to make them important. He's simultaneously angry at the time lords for lying about their identity, and at the doctor for being the most important time lord of them all, for being THE time lord, the original. Ultimately, for being more than him.

Now. The master has a certainty during the entirety of the show. The doctor is his equal, they have opposite moralities, but they're equals. Now, the security in this statement he believed in all his life shatters. They're not equals. He is who he is only because of the doctor. Thinking back to missy, she was the regeneration that absolutely wanted the doctor to see her as equal as well. She wanted to be like the doctor cause she missed him, and felt like he was the only one like her. So she tried to be like him, she accepted to be imprisoned in a vault and basically be changed to have the same beliefs of the doctor. But she did it willingly. Cause she wanted them to be the same. Now this entire arc feels wrong to the master (dhawan) , cause now he knows he could never be like the doctor, how could he? The doctor is much more. He thinks missy was his biggest mistake, he humiliated himself to be something he could never be. He gets out of the matrix and throws a tantrum, killing everyone on the planet for having lied to him (and to the doctor). When he sees the doctor again he hates her. He hates her cause she's just there, being her usual self, while in reality she has a bigger role in everything than she could ever think. He hates her cause a part of her is in him, and that means he's less. He's lesser than her. I also remember one scene where he was like "did I ever apologise for that?" (I don't remember what) And she was like "no" and him "good". I think about it often in relation to missy, cause he was definitely saying it because of her. Why any other master should have apologised for something? Only missy was apologising for stuff she did. It might be a big reach but I like to think it's about her. And he's like "good" cause he regrets being missy and trying to redeem himself, like I said before. Anyway the follow up from here is simple, he hates her and stuff, but he also feels bad not letting her know why. So then he decides to show her her story, all he can. No one should live without knowing their origins. so he shows her, and then he says he would like to show her more, but there's nothing else to show. It's the only moment in which he's doing something kind for her. Cause I believe in some way, he's also mad at the time lords for lying to the doctor. And here's part of why he decides to use their dead bodies in such an unworthy way. They have to pay not only with their life but also with their dignity, so he turns them into cybermasters.

This is also a way to cope and create his own race, to feel a little more on the doctor's level. She created the time lords, he destroyed them and created another species with their bodies. Then it's not enough and he decides that the only way to be equals is to become her. At this point he's gone completely insane, like, we see that. But it's totally understandable for him to act that way. His whole worldview changes. Everything he believed in is not true anymore. He doesn't know who he is anymore (I also just thought about this identity crisis he was having and how he stole Rasputin's identity, but this is an analysis for another day).

Anyway this got off topic cause I had to explain only the missy/dhawan thing but then started talking about dhawan in general so forgive me lol.

Other than this, if we take big finish in consideration there's the lumiat, that comes between missy and dhawan and her story really helps some people accepting the change (for some people it's still not enough though) and in the 2021 annual is confirmed that dhawan comes after missy, as we have the doctor and the master talking about the master's story from delegado to dhawan and thirteen says "I quite liked you as missy" and he replies that she spent too much time with him and it's something that should never happen again.

anyway. I've made my point on why the missy -> spymaster regeneration simply makes sense. It's just a normal timeline, I don't know why people think it doesn't work

[valictini]

Hi love ur au, do u think Nille will hate Siffrin for uh nudging Bonnie to fight and give his some sisterly beatings or….idk live ur designs lol

On the one hand, Siffrin did kinda force Bonnie into the battlefield because of his act 5 "temper tantrum" and hurt their feelings during their disastrous friendquest... but on the other hand 1) he's the reason Bonnie was even noticed and rescued when they escaped Bambouche and 2) he lost a whole entire eye to protect them

(She knows this because by the time the party arrives, Loop has already filled her in about a lot of things)

So like, I don't think she'd hold a grudge against Siffrin in particular? If anything Siffrin would probably beat her at blaming himself for everything and apologising profusely to her if the topic ever came up.

I think she'd be more critical of the entire party for uh, bringing the kid TO THE KING?? Instead of leaving them in Dormont or something?? Which they would all immediately apologise for, too. Though they could also argue that Bonnie would have been frozen in Dormont anyway so might as well keep them close and protect them directly.

She'd listen to the apologies seriously (because yeah, Bonnie WAS in danger) and truly look into herself to see if she forgives them...

But in the end she knows they all did the best they could, and Bonnie is home now, safe and sound. So there's no reason to hold it up against them. What's done is done, no need to dwell on the past!

[oftenderweapons]

In Your Calvin's | JJK

Pairing: Jeon Jungkook x reader (nicknamed Candy)

Wordcount: 9.6k

Genre: smut, fluff, pwp, established relationship

Rating: 18+ Minors, do not interact

Synopsis: Being Jeon Jeongguk's girlfriend is a great honour, but it comes with great responsibilities. When the commercial celebrating your boyfriend (very secret boyfriend) starts playing on everyone's and their mother's phones, it's time you face what it means to be loved by the most wanted idol of them all.

Warnings: Jealousy and general possessiveness. Swearing. Powerplay, switch!reader, switch!jk. Masochist!jk (?). Marking (hickey, writing on body with a pen), hair pulling (male receiving), edging (male receiving), spanking (male and female receiving). Teasing. Mild degradation. Dry humping. A very mild boobjob. Breast worship. Unprotected foreplay, oral sex (female receiving; brief male receiving), unprotected sex (be smarter, kids), rough sex. Mentions of cockring.

One last thing: 1. this was edited at 3am, please bear with me. 2. Sidenote: I try to be as neutral as possible with the way I describe the girls' appearance, however I wanted to specify that in this fic, I mention Candy having long, straight hair (and huge badonkers, but that's kinda canon by now LOL). It's just a brief mention, absolutely nothing major and holds no relevance to the fic, you might not even notice it; but still, I wanted to make sure I thought about my curly haired goddesses, and short haired queens, (or a combo of both heart eyes) and that I apologise for making this fic just a pinch less immersive for you. (Is this the right moment to apologise to small boobs princesses too? ily sisters, itty bitty titty committee 5evah)

Here's my masterlist, lemme just disappear very quickly. Enjoy 💜✨

You knew Jeongguk had a gig with Calvin Klein. You've known it for months. You've seen him cut calories and hit the gym and dehydrate for a couple days before the shoot because he explained to you how muscle definition works, and crucial to showing a great slab of abs is being basically as dry as a breadstick, to the point of being cranky because you have drunk three glasses of water in the last forty-eight hours. 

Which all means, you knew his stomach would be quite surely showing.

And yet your world still stops once you're merrily sitting on your train back home and his half undressed form appears on the screen on your phone. 

At first you slam your phone shut, mostly because you're used to hiding your boyfriend away and that's the reaction you usually have when you open one of his flirty pics from your chat. 

Next, you realise you weren't on your private chat, and you weren't even looking at pictures in your phone gallery. 

You were absentmindedly scrolling. On Instagram. 

You unlock your phone again, and right there you're confronted with the very naked truth. 

Jeongguk. Is basically naked. On your phone. And it's for the entire world to see. 

Your brain slows down, as if the earth axis is tipping over a little in the opposite way. 

Something inside you snaps around the third time the video plays in front of your unseeing eyes. To anyone looking at you, you could be just an obsessed fan taking a close look at the fine piece of art, but your eyes are unfocused, your mind too deep in thought to register any stimulus from the external world. 

The vibration from the phone awakens you from your state of trance. 

“Candy, baby,” says the adorable lover boy calling you. “Have you seen it already?”

Your lips are sealed, and you can't quite bring yourself to speak, you don't know why. 

“I'm on my way back home.” You say, and the words feel like cracking a glow stick in your chest. 

“But did you see it?” His voice isn't as bright now. 

“I'm coming home.” You repeat. 

He's silent for a few seconds, and you can hear him sigh. “Okay.” 

“He's so insanely hot,” you overhear a girl sitting across from you comment. 

“I want to run my palms down the sides of his waist,” says her friend. 

You stare at them and you know you must look like a woman possessed right now, but you still allow yourself to incinerate them with a glare, as if your eyes could turn into flamethrowers. 

“Candy?” 

“I'll be home in ten.” And you close the call. 

On the way back home, you hear more people talk. More girls fawn. More women zoom in. 

On the escalator, you notice a woman fanning herself while staring at the screen. Another one even crosses herself as the ad from your boyfriend reruns on her phone screen. 

Every step on your way home is utter agony, and once you step over the threshold, you're not sure what you're going to do.

Jeongguk is in the kitchen in a sleeveless top, tattoos out, piercings glowing in the gentle light of the living room. And his hair is fluffy, which means he's probably just done blow drying it after taking a shower. 

The fact that the scent of his body lotion is still sharp gives you further indication of how recent that shower must be. 

“Hey,” he says, turning towards you with a bunny grin, which immediately dims once he sees your expression. “Oh. Bad day?” 

You bite your lip and stare at him a fair bit. Then, a bit more. 

“Candy, love.” 

You don't know what to do with him. Is he yours? Is he really yours? 

How come you come home to him making dinner, and being freshly showered, and being so domestic? How come you're living in his apartment, knowing his pass code, having an ID card for his apartment complex and his studio at HYBE? How come he gives you a copy of his schedule and talks about you over the phone on his weekly call to his grandmother and brings you to his parents' house? How come you go on trips together and you're the emergency contact to his fur babies and you make love two to four times a week? How come he's brought you to the town he grew up in and loved you down in the place where he lost his virginity because, "I wish it had been you since the very first time"? 

Who is this man? 

Is he Jungkook from Bangtan Sonyeondan? Or is he Jeon Jeongguk, your very own quiet, shy, reserved lover boy? 

“You're scaring me,” he whispers, putting down his wooden spoon and taking a few steps to stand in front of you. 

“Why me?” you ask, staring at his collarbones, too scared to look into his eyes. 

“What do you mean?” he asks back, sheepish. 

This time your eyes meet his. “Why me? Of all the women out there, why me?” You look down, taking in just how average you feel, every imperfection magnified in your eyes, now that you have so many people you're comparing yourself with, and competing with. 

“Candy—” He starts. 

“Everyone, everyone out there is literally foaming at the mouth at that commercial, and I'm here? I come home to you? I make love to you almost every night?” You pause and laugh bitterly at him. “I'm a fucking fraud.” 

He shakes his head and moves closer, grabbing your wrists. “A fraud, you say?” He tuts in disappointment, places your hands on his waist. “You're not a fraud, ____, you're my soulmate.” He leaves your hands once he feels them clutch at his narrow waist. 

Possessiveness hits you all of a sudden, and it is only mildly ebbed by his hands landing at the top of your ass. 

“I love you, and I make love to you because it's a fucking dream. You're a fucking dream, and I'm so upset that you don't see it.”

You're jealous. You're simply jealous. It's human and it's healthy to be moderately jealous. After all the comments you heard and read, it's fair to be jealous. 

“I reckon you saw the commercial.” 

“I saw the commercial and everyone's reaction to it,” you comment, slightly acidic. 

Jeongguk bends to place a kiss below your earlobe. “Are you angry?” 

No. Not just anger.

Your hands mimic his and crawl to his lower back, toying with the hemline of his underwear. “I'm not mad.” I'm disgustingly jealous and I don't like them having more of what's mine. They already have too much, they've always wanted too much and you always give it to them and I'm furious that it's not mine alone. 

Jeongguk wears a mischievous smile as he makes you take several small steps back, the back of your legs hitting the kitchen counter. “Do you like it?” 

You click your tongue and shake your head. “No.” 

The reply startles him, and he feels his mood dim. Did he—

“I'm not a jealous person, but this… God, this hits a new level,” you finally admit. “They already drool over you quite enough, and now they even have a video of you shirtless. How would I not be jealous!? Half the girls would have snapped your neck. If Yoongi ever did this, Kitten would have his balls dangling from her Mercedes keychain. I don't even know how Lace and Princess are handling their boyfriends naked on everyone's phone. If I were Tae I would seek political asylum in Greenland. Or maybe Tibet.” You take a large mouthful of oxygen before you launch yourself in another tirade. 

“Everyone's talking about grabbing your waist, licking your abs, tugging at your hair and shit and hi! I'm here! I'm the girlfriend! Sorry I exist! WHAT THE FUCK!?” 

Jeongguk laughs and lowers himself to your chest, kissing where your heartbeat echoes like a crazed war drum. 

“It's not fun!” you complain, significantly agitated. 

“Mh.” He hums as he moves aside the hem of your shirt, meeting the soft, smooth skin of your chest. “It was supposed to come out on your birthday, that's why's a bit more racy,” he explains more patiently. “But they decided to release it early.” He kisses a tender spot and your left knee tingles a little. “It was supposed to be a slightly too public boudoir shoot. But secretly it was just yours.” Jeongguk finds the cup of your bra and stares up at you as his fingers reach the hem and slide the fabric aside. “I was thinking of you when I made it.” 

And once his mouth wraps around your nipple, your right knee starts tingling too. 

“Must admit I had to push the limits a lot to finally make you jealous,” he purrs once he is done with the licking, sucking motion of his mouth around your tender flesh. “But I'm sorry I crossed the line.” 

What line? You think, your brain already hazy. No sharp line exists in the world you’re currently in. Just the loving, plush hills of Jeongguk's lips, the slippery slopes of his waistline, the sinuous curves of his hip bones leading you to his pelvis, and the soft curls of his luscious dark locks. No crossed borders, only gentle waves licking the shore, water and land embracing one the other. 

“Remind me who's the boss here, Candy,” he says, and you know he's playing you right now. “Remind me where I belong.” His mouth is at your ear as he whispers, “Show me who owns me.” 

The tingles are spreading as his fingers grab at your ass, his lips connecting with your jaw. “Talk to me, Candy.”

You’re not sure you can articulate words at this moment. Talking isn’t as easy as everyone makes it seem. 

His eyes connect with yours and he can tell you’re staring at his lips by the poetic detail of your lashes lowered over your cheekbone. 

It makes him chuckle, very gently, that he has all these details of you he adores, and that you have the audacity of asking him why he picked you, and why he keeps choosing you over and over. 

He loves you, his family loves you, his dogs love you. This is the way it’s supposed to be. 

His finger reaches underneath your chin, forcing your eyes to actually meet his. “Look at me, sweetheart,” he purrs, and as your lashes dart up, he shakes his head a little, loving the way you arch up a fraction, as if pulled towards him. “There she is, beautiful.”

You feel completely neutralised. Disarmed. All the storms brewing over you a minute ago are forgotten as soon as his sweet smile shines like sunlight above you. 

His hand combs your hair back, cupping your cheek and landing a kiss on your temple. “Are you feeling better?”

You nod. 

“What mood are we in?” You’ve asked him this question thousands of times since the two of you became serious, ever since he opened up about feeling too closed off to make a relationship work; and now, the fact that it was such a solid, valid ritual in your dynamics made it natural for him to ask too. “You need to talk to me, sweetheart.”

“I’m better. I…”

“Tell me what you want.”

You stare at him, at his shoulders, at his biceps, you trace his tattoo with your fingertip, and he looks closely at your finger, at it drawing swirls and circles on his skin. 

“Pick me up,” you say softly. 

And he does, immediately. His biceps flex and he grunts a little, not at the weight, but just because he knows the sound can make your toes curl, and he likes that a lot. His hands are wrapped around the back of your thighs, then they adjust to your bottom. 

“Next? Counter? Bed? Shower?”

You kiss him. Impatient, and needy, you kiss him. 

He opens up for you without hesitation, moaning at the sweet invasion of your tongue in his mouth. God, he loves it. It makes him melt, to feel your tongue slip against his, moving wet and sloppy, your lips plush and hot pressed up against him. He loves kissing you. Actually, he loves making out with you. He’s pretty sure he could come of that alone, and he tries to remind himself you have to give that a try. Another day. 

He places you onto the counter because he fears his knees might give out on him. And once he has you there it means his hands can roam all over you and grab your chest and toy with—

“No touching,” you snap at him, gripping his wrists and pulling his hands behind his back. 

His eyes go wide at the shift in pace, but he obeys. He also feels like he's awakening from a dream only to find out reality can be so much better. 

You dig your hands in his hair and he hisses a little as you tug gently, but still roughly. You think of all the people who wish they could do just so as you stare into his eyes, seeing just how turned on he gets as you manhandle him. 

You lean towards him and you notice him trying to kiss you, but you tug at his hair harder, holding him in place as the heat of your exhale fans over his parted lips and his chin. 

“You want me to own you?” you ask him, watching his muscles twitch as he fights the urge to grab you and put you in place. 

He nods. “Do me all the things no one else can.” He has a roguish smile as he adds, “Do me everything they won't ever, ever do to me.” And he is god of deception when he finally tips you over the edge. “Do me everything I want just from you, and you alone.” 

You watch him intently, then tug at his hair so that his head is angled upwards, throat vulnerable and exposed. 

He's staring at you with a mischievous glint in his expression, a walking temptation, and you can almost hear him say it, 'come on, do it'. And you do it. 

You bend forward and sink your teeth in his flesh, the tender skin caving in as your bite marks him softly before your cheeks move into a suctioning motion that you know will turn into a bruise. It just pleases you so. 

“Take a step back,” you order as soon as you're happy with the hickey. “Take off your shirt.” 

And he winks before he does. You watch the plain of his chest, the valley in between his pectorals leading you down to his navel. 

“I hope you're wearing your Calvin's,” you tease with a cocked eyebrow. 

He smirks. “Always in my Calvin's.” 

You snicker and shake your head. “Take off your pants.”

His forehead scrunches up in surprise, but he eventually obeys. 

He's standing in a pair of socks and his white boxer briefs. At least he didn't lie, they are Calvin Klein. 

“Do you want—” 

“The Calvin's stay on,” you sentence, then you descend from the counter. “Head over to the bedroom. I'll come over in a minute.” 

He stares at you, flabbergasted. 

“Oh, and I almost forgot: don't touch yourself. Settle down, hands on the headboard and wait pretty.” 

He blinks, unsure of where this is going to end or where it came from, but so blazingly grateful for it. 

“Okay.” 

You give him a quick once-over as you stand in front of each other. His abs are toned and defined, but now less alarmingly than the days before the shoot. His thighs are strong and you love how the material from the boxers wraps around them comfortably and smoothly. 

You dare stare at his crotch, at the way the fabric traces the curve of his length, so perfectly long and so perfectly thick.

You allow your fingertips to trace the curve of his spine, so lightly that it causes him to close his eyes, his head inched to the side as he shivers in pleasure. 

“Can I be rough with you?” you ask him, your hand reaching the small of his back and cupping the curve of his ass. 

He moves his hands on you the exact same way you did. “Maybe I like pain,” he suggests, and from the collection of tattoos and piercings, but mostly from the supercut of memories of him getting bitten, spanked and scratched by you, you’re reminded that you’re not dealing with the edited version of him he has promoted publicly. 

This is your boyfriend. Jeongguk. Your Jeongguk. 

You sink your nails into the flesh of his ass, and he hisses but smiles, pulling you closer, swaying his hips to tease your crotch with his. “Go get ready, babyboy,” you croon.

He hums invitingly and kisses your neck, trying to get you to move with him, but you’ve made up your mind already. 

“Go,” you repeat.

He pouts and grabs your hips. “Come on, what are you trying to do?” he asks, his brow furrowed, his eyes dark and wide and imploring for you to just follow him and spare him whatever cruel surprise you want to use against him.

You grab his wrists, making him unclasp his hands. “Go and you’ll find out.”

He hesitates and then he faces away, still reluctant, turning around a couple times on his way, checking if you’re following him — perhaps, maybe, hopefully…

Yet, you don’t move, not until he turns the corner to the bedroom. And then you make your way over, slow, unbothered. 

And you close the door on him. 

You head to the bathroom, wash up quickly, and equally quickly you cover yourself in his favourite lotion, taking special care of your neck and chest. Once properly buttered up and covered in nothing but pretty Calvin undies and his favourite Calvin jeans jacket, you’re ready to attack. But you stare at yourself in the mirror, and you feel like there’s still something you could do to give him a heart attack…

Oh, that, you think. And you get to work. 

Apparently he has behaved, as you find him lounging in bed, with his boxers still on, his hands laced behind the crown of his head, a fine slab of abs in full glow from the dark amber hue coming from his led lights. 

“Are we on a sunset gold kinda vibe— Holy shit.” He didn’t manage to sound as cool and aloof as he’d tried to be once his eyes landed on you. 

He wished he could take a picture of you and spread it across town, just so he could stare at it while waiting for a bus, or hanging out at Hongdae with his friends, and excitedly point at it while tipsy to holler “that’s my fucking girlfriend, that fine piece of ass fucking owns me”. 

He wished he could put you on an album cover and fill it with all the insane stuff you do to his heart and his mind and his body. How his heartbeat does a little hiccup thing when he sees you first thing in the morning, and how he’s spent every wish on fallen eyelashes over you, and making you happy, and building you a house and having fireworks for your wedding night, and having all his fans seeing just how incredibly fantastic you are to him, how you make him so happy and deliriously smitten and barely coherent when it comes to talking about you, and just… He just wants everyone to love you half as much as he does. 

And maybe for you to be only ever in love with him, so he doesn’t risk anyone thirsting for you enough to steal you from him. 

“What were you saying about golden lights?” you ask, climbing on the bed, your hand modestly holding the lapels of his jeans jacket together — it’s not time to destroy him yet. 

“I— I…” He tries to sit up, but you push him back where he belongs with a well-placed hand pressed to the middle of his chest. 

“Put on the red lights, love.” You grin devilishly, watching his doe eyes glimmer with wonder and disbelief. 

“Have I ever told you I am one lucky motherfucker?” he says, staring at your neck, at your face, at your hand, his palms already moving to your hips as you straddle him. 

“I just know it.” You sit on your throne — his lap —, stretch to the end table to grab the remote to switch the lights to red, and once the deal is settled, you let the jacket open. “I mean. I’m the luckiest because I have these, but considering you profit from them… You know…” You let your breasts show. 

“I know…” he says, entirely mesmerised. God, he is so easy, you think, watching his eyes scan your chest like a cat playing catch with a laser light. You mix your standard level of charm with a slow grind of your hips, so slow and gentle that it’s straight up teasing, torture at its blandest level.

“You make it so hard to think,” he speaks with a strangled voice, trying to make you move the way he wants, but you grab his hands with the excuse of lacing your fingers with his, only to drag them back by the sides of his head. 

“I didn’t know I could turn your brain into mush just like this,” you reply, feeling your folds moisten in an attempt to ease the sliding of your crotch against his length. Too bad both of you are still clad in your underwear and, according to your plans, would stay that way for quite a while, as long as possible. “You’re so whipped.”

“I am,” he purrs, and tries to get away with moving his hands back to your hips, but before he can dig his digits in the soft of your flesh, you tut. 

“You’d better not touch that ass, Jeon. Keep your hands to yourself if you want my hands on you,” you threaten. “Just to remind you who’s in charge, sweetheart.”

His eyes go wide and he moves his palms back behind his head as soon as you finish your remark. “Yes, miss.”

“Good boy,” you praise him, and you visibly notice him holding back from smiling at the praise. “Did you see my little mark?” you ask. “Call it a slog

an of sorts. A vision statement.” You shrug and push back the lapels, hoping for the lights not being too low for him to see. 

It has taken a while for your handy work to happen, mostly because it can be absurdly tricky writing in reverse, but thankfully you’re quite prone to graphic arts. 

Jeongguk rises a little, getting closer to where he can recognise dark scribbles on your chest. Unusual dark scribbles. 

“Is that… Tattooed?” he asks, and his eyes go wide as he meets your face. 

You cackle at him, leaning over and licking his lips, sucking his lower one, then travelling along his jaw, nibbling at his earlobe in a way that makes his hips jolt against you, buckling. “I can't have that tattooed, can I? Unless the world knows and it gets a little too permanent.” 

He frowns, not at the way he loses contact with your warm crotch, but because of the unwelcome realisation of what it means to not belong to you entirely. “I'm so sorry,” he sighs, trying to hold you, but stopping his hands before he can touch you. 

He goes back to his assigned position and begs you with his eyes. 

“Oh, no. Don't worry, it's okay.” To keep him distracted, you get back to a soft roll of your pelvis against his, and he seems to oppose, but it only lasts for maybe five seconds. 

His wound-up exhale convinces you to reward him further, lowering your chest so that it drags against his as you keep grinding on him. 

“Jeongguk, baby,” you murmur fondly. 

“So unfair… That I don’t get you like a girlfriend like anyone else…” He speaks, his focus spotty and frail. 

“What do you mean, love?” you egg him on.

“All the public stuff… All the PDA and the grand gestures. The stuff that makes it official, you know.” His eyes are glassy and fleeting as he speaks, and it really feels as if speaking were like making a necklace except he can’t quite line up the beads the right way and he can’t manage to get the string inside the hole and it takes a very long time for the words to finally turn into meaning and it’s all so frustrating. 

“I don’t care,” you reassure him, and this time you’re not unaffected either, the sentence stumbling out of you before you can even fully register the meaning you were trying to convey. “Can you read the tattoo, Guk?”

His eyelids lift through great effort, and in slow motion. You stop moving to help him focus on the writing, and he grunts at the interruption. He does not like that at all, and having you so close, so soft, so hot and wet for him is making his instinct vibrate with need to be inside you, move inside you, and then finally find his release in the welcoming darkness of your womb. 

“I—” He’s really trying so hard, god bless his heart, but he’s so unfocused and his vision is blurry and he needs to blink for a bunch of seconds before he manages to spell the message, and then compute it, and then smirk wildly before he bucks his hips up against you, letting you know that you’d better move on him. 

“What is it, Jeongguk? Mind sharing with the class?” you bait him with a cheshire grin. 

“Not sharing any of this,” he growls, and you can feel his arms jolt at the urgency to wrap around you, press you to his front and shove you underneath him, so that he can finally move as hard and as fast as he knows the both of you need. 

“Oh, don’t be a greedy little boy! Don’t you want to test how it feels to say it?” you tease him further, ready to push him to his breaking point. After all, that is what you’re always trying to do, get as far as it needs to make him go wild on you, barely coherent and entirely animalistic. 

“You want me to say it, don’t you?” he provokes you, feeling just how much the humiliation will further send you soaring over him. 

“I do,” you admit. 

He bites his lip and you look at him, you study the shape of his lips, the glint in his eyes, the dark shimmering of his lovely ebony locks, and the way his chest heaves with effort and arousal. “These tits own Jeon Jeongguk,” he speaks, his gaze piercing yours, holding you accountable for the undoing he knows will follow. 

“That’s right, isn’t it?” Your smile is sardonic, evilly pleased with his admission of submission, with him confirming, with conviction, that he is indeed entirely enslaved to his fascination for your chest, that he is so deeply enticed by it that just a silly part of you can guarantee you his unflinching devotion. 

“You know it’s right,” he grunts as your movements resume. And at this point, he knows this is going to take a while, and it will most surely turn out vicious. 

“Just checking in on you, making sure you haven’t found a better pair—”

“Don’t you dare talk to them like this. Not in front of me,” he hisses with a passion, and you chuckle at how chivalrously he defends your breasts from your own ill assumptions. 

“That’s so gallant of you,” you reply, your hands pulling his hair back, your tone fond and just vaguely lined with mocking. “Let them repay you for your kindness,” you suggest, as you start crawling down his body, your breasts landing heavily on his lap. 

“Really…?” he asks, first distracted and then extremely alert as he connects the dots. “With my boxers on?” He says with a frown. 

You shrug and smirk. “Maybe we’ll get rid of them later…” You sprinkle some kisses on his abdomen, your chest dragging against his sensitive parts. 

He frowns at the weight of them, so welcome, and yet deceiving as the fabric is hindering him from fully enjoying the act. “Please, off,” he huffs, tutting and fussing a little, but you decide to reward his patience with your nails tracing patterns against his chest, your fingertips drawing his areolae, your eyes hungry on his lost, bewildered state. 

“Not yet, love… Be patient with me,” you reassure him, tracing the rift in between the crests of his hips, one side, then the others, ricocheting between the bones on the two sides. “I’m going to make it so good to you,” you promise him, placing kisses all around the underrated perfection of his belly button — a huge ‘fuck you’ to the people salivating over him and never, ever knowing how such a minuscule inch of his body has you so irreversibly whipped. 

“Candy… Mh, love—” His voice has grown unbearably raspy and airy, so light it feels almost incorporeal, if it weren’t for the velvet smoothness of his skin underneath your lips, like marble that has finally received the breath of life, your boy an ineffable Galatea. 

“If you knew, Guk, if only—” kiss— “you knew—” kiss— “how sexy, and erotic, and exciting and poetic you look right now, baby. You look like art.” 

“Lemme touch you, I need you, I need—” he gasps and you’re almost expecting him to release a groan before he comes, way too early, much earlier than planned. But fortunately he doesn’t, he holds back stoically and cants his hips away. “For fuck’s sake,” he whispers, an arm covering his eyes. “I need a second if you need me to hold back.”

“Oh,” you reply in surprise, lifting yourself off him. “Are you alright?”

“Just give me some quiet for a second, Candy, don’t you dare even speak.” Jeongguk’s chest is rising and falling in wide movements, enticing and captivating.

Finally he removes his arm from his eyes, but he barely makes eye contact. 

“Guk?” You ask, worried. 

“Just— I’m trying to keep it cool here, love.” He wiggles his body a little, trying to get his boxers to fit a bit less tightly around him. “We should be smarter about this, you know?” His hands clench as he stops himself from reaching for you. “We should get a cockring for next time.”

You ogle him, then smile excitedly. “Really?” you chirp.

“Totally,” he concedes. He smiles even bigger at your smile. “Don’t tell me you bought one already.”

“Uhm… No,” you admit with a pout. 

“Dammit. It would have been weird, but I wouldn’t even have complained about it since it would pretty much save my ass right now.” He licks his lips, stares at you some more, and he groans and throws his head back at the renewed flare of arousal after he’d just managed to tone it down a notch. 

“I’m so sorry, bunny.”

“I’m alright,” he admits, his tone defeated. 

“Is this the right moment to suggest I ride your face?” you say, your grin now sardonic, almost drunk on him and the sight of his body shutting down for you, malfunctioning at the mere touch of you. 

He stares at you, wide eyed, nodding energetically, like a kid being asked if they want to visit Disneyland. “Guess it took a half naked commercial to get you to finally ask for it like you own it.”

You roll your eyes at him. “Careful or I can keep going with torturing you. I’m liking it anyway.”

��No no no, come over here,” he says with a stern and determined expression on his face, his hands reaching for the back of your thighs. “I’ve been waiting. Get comfy,” he encourages you, and after some manoeuvring you settle on top of him. 

He nods to himself, his nose nuzzling against the crotch of your panties, his mouth opening so he can feel your heat with his tongue, trying to get as close as possible.

Unsatisfied, his fingers reach to slip your panties to the side, but you slap at his hand. 

“Nope. You wanted the Calvin’s, and we’re keeping the Calvin’s,” you scold him. 

He frowns. “No, you were the one wanting them,” he argues. “Keep them on, you said.”

“Whatever.” You arch an eyebrow at him, but you also know he’s right and this decision has come to bite you in the ass. “Imagine how good it will feel once we take them off… And it feels a bit kinky to keep them on. Like… Like we’re having a quickie and everyone out there is waiting for model Jeongguk to come out anytime now, but once he does, well, he looks freshly fucked and everyone can’t stop talking about it— Oh, that!” you moan, your musings interrupted by Jeongguk trying to get bits of you in his mouth. 

You’re thankful for the brazilian cut panties giving him plenty of stuff to work with even with the underwear still on. 

“Stop me if it’s lewd but, dammit, I love the smell of you.” He drags his face side to side, basking in the damp, salty scent of your arousal. “I don’t even know what it is about it, but I like it so much.” 

“Keep doing whatever you’re doing,” you comment, your voice breathy. 

“Do you want me to keep talking?” he asks, and you just rub yourself against his chin, his mouth, and his words come out muffled. At some point you think you might have hurt his nose, so you ease the pressure a little, but he grabs handfuls of your butt and keeps you snug to his face, parts his lips wider as if he were really trying to eat you. 

He parts from his designed heaven only long enough to announce, “I’m pushing ‘em to the side, fuck it.” And you’re barely coherent, and he’s speaking with that intimate lisp of his, his accent heavy, like he can’t pay too much attention to words anyway. 

You don’t oppose. 

In seconds, his tongue is tipping inside you, slippery, and so hot, and you moan without even noticing it. Everything is soaked, his chest is covered in perspiration, and so are your thighs. 

You dare look down, and his eyes are closed as he is filling all his other senses with the sensation of you.

You bask in the sight of him, one forearm draped against the headboard of the bed, your other hand reaching down, to his fluffy hair currently tickling your inner thigh. You grab it, careful to be right between gentle and aggressive, in that way he finds so pleasant and sexy. 

He opens his eyes suddenly, and the moment he finds your eyes already connected with his face, he finds himself more eager to give you just what you need to plunge into oblivion. 

He gives you lush, slow licks, from your centre to your most sensitive spot, he takes his time, and moves into more sinuous motions, drawing curve after curve on his way up. He is unrushed, patient, and eloquent. He is luxuriant, explorative, curious. 

He loves what he’s doing, and he loves you and he’s showing it, top to bottom, and all the way up again. 

“Guk,” you breathe out, and it’s almost a hiccup.

“Yes, I know,” he murmurs against the bend of your inner thigh, right at the fold to your crotch. It’s so private, so sacred. It’s heartbreakingly yours and his and no one else’s. You’re in a shared space where nobody else can tell what you and him know. 

“Please,” you manage to say. 

He rearranges his arm so he can move two fingers along the seam between your legs, and then they’re inside, and he’s moving them right, rubbing them against the back wall of your entrance. 

As you tip your body forward, he moans with his mouth to your clitoris, happy with the new angle, and once you start grinding against him, climbing your way to your climax, he doesn’t stop, he doesn’t go faster, he doesn’t add pressure. He does not change one single thing, and you’re so grateful for the way he has come to understand you, your body, your tells. 

“Just right,” you encourage him. “You’re so damn perfect, love— Oh, there.”

That’s the last thing you can remember saying before he sets you off like fireworks. You don’t take much into consideration after that. All is fair, unless he’s holding you back. 

You grind, hump, moan, thrash just a little as you get too sensitive and fold in two, your forehead pressed to your wrist on the headboard 

as you shake your head ‘no’ but can’t bring yourself to stop from feeling everything he wants you to take. 

When you manage to recover, you whisper, “Okay, gimme a second.” And you try to unstraddle his face, but he holds you there, and simply avoids touching your sensitive parts, removing his fingers from inside you. 

“Are you alright, Candy?”

You nod and take some large breaths. 

He moves your panties back in place, then kisses your mound softly, affectionate, innocent even. 

“Can I do anything for you now, love?” He asks with a reverent, caring note in his voice. 

You shake your head, still recovering. “Can I lay on top of you?” 

“Sure thing,” he says, unlatching from you and leaving some room for you to realign with him, face to face, torso to torso, hip to hip, calf to calf. 

He’s still hard as marble, and the gentle grind of your pelvis against his causes him to groan softly. 

You press your lips to his to distract him. 

The jeans jacket you’re still wearing gives him something to ground himself, his focus aimed entirely at the feeling of the fabric underneath his fingers instead of the humid warmth of your crotch pressed against his. 

Just then, you bring your heels underneath your ass, rising to your knees as you swiftly remove your upper garment. 

The way his focus moves immediately to your breasts makes you cackle a little, but he doesn’t seem bothered by it. 

“Candy, you’ll have to get that tattooed.”

“Nah, too dangerous. They might tell on you.”

He frowns. “You’re right,” he still agrees. Too dangerous. You’re dangerous to him too, and there are not many chances of him keeping some form of dignity if he could at any time see a tattoo calling him out for his undying liaison with your chest. 

He catches your wrists, making you lose your balance so that your torso collapses onto his. And he keeps you there, wraps you up in his arms. 

“Still jealous, love?” he asks you. 

“More than ever,” you admit, and you look into his eyes, recognising the feeling pooling in them. 

“I'm only yours,” he swears, kissing the side of your head, whatever he can reach, and it's so tender, so innocent, so magical. “What can I do for you?” he whispers, flirting with you. 

You wrap your hands around his forearms and bring them up above his head. “No. I want to do things for you.”

You press your lips to his gingerly, then start to kiss down, tracking his throat and moving further downwards, to his chest, stopping where his heart thumps against the petals of your lips.

“Beats so hard for me,” you comment lightly. “Do I make your heart race, love?” 

“You do, Candy,” his reply is strained, as if it hurt to speak at that moment. 

“But I—” You let your nails tickle the flat of his waist, the elastic band around his hips— “I also make your dick hard, don't I?” 

He moans eloquently, then chuckles at your teasing. “You so do,” he admits, embarrassed but also excited, and so so thankful for having found you. 

You grab the waistband of his underwear with your teeth, letting it slap against his skin with a dry snap. “Grab a pen from your bedside, will you?”

You look up just in time to catch his eyes flickering open, his expression coming to life slowly. “What?” he asks, confused. 

“A pen, from your drawer,” you repeat. 

“Oh.” He had been too unfocused and he hadn’t realised you were talking to him, as if the words were just sound with no meaning; however, now he’s paid attention, so he stretches to the side, exposing the slender twist of his waist to your reverent mouth. You kiss him there, his body contracting as your lips attack his ticklish spot. 

“You’re a menace,” he complains, giving you the side eye, but also offering you a boyish, loving smirk. 

“And yet, you love me.”

“You’re lucky,” he says, right before you nip at his skin in reprimand. “Okay, I am the lucky one,” he concedes, returning to you with a pen in his hand. “You want this one?” he asks.

You nod and stretch for it, then peck the mole beside his navel and make your way down. 

His underwear by now is bitterly persona non grata, still you make yourself okay with it and simply move the elastic down, exposing his hipbone more fully. 

“What you gonna do?” he muses, propping himself up and staring at you bent over his pelvis. You look at him and prepare the pen, staring in his eyes as you suck at your bottom lip, torturing it a little as you think. 

“Are you gonna mark me? Sign me up?” he asks, a mocking grin on his face. 

You move the pen away and loll your tongue out, drawing a thick stripe following the shape of him in his boxers. 

He immediately drops his cocky act and arches up, sensitive, holding on barely. 

“You think you’re so smart, huh?” you scold him provokingly. “Remember where this is all coming from,” you remind him threateningly. 

He gasps as your mouth sucks his tip through the fabric, your nails tracing the indentations of his quads. 

“I’m sorry,” he whispers. “You’ve got me.”

You nod to yourself. “I do,” you say, patronising just in the slightest. And because you can you rise, remove yourself from the way, and pull at his hipbone, trying to flip him around. 

He’s alarmed, but he follows your lead. You straddle the back of his thighs, bend down, and move his underwear down, the elastic stuck under the fold of his ass, further emphasising it. It looks plump and delicious, and for a moment you’re caught admiring him. 

He’s twisting his neck to try and see what you’re doing, filled with wonder at the way your hair tumbles over, and he’s mesmerised by the shine of it, the softness of the tips, like a brush, whispering at his skin.

You pick the right spot, then settle down, folded over his glute. His skin is hot against your touch and when you finally bring the pen to his flesh, you hope it won’t fail, despite the perspiration and the soft surface. 

Shamelessly, you draw the words like an inscription on a stone. 

Poetic, and dirty. Just the way you like it. However, you don’t give him the benefit of knowledge. 

You lean back, watch your little handywork with a surging of pride and love and confidence. You smack it, just because you can, not hard, not soft either, just sweet enough that it doesn’t feel like a violation doing it without asking his permission first. 

His muscles squeeze, and his breath catches. 

Because I can, your brain keeps telling you, over and over, like a mantra. You’re allowed to. He’s yours and you’re the only one allowed to. 

“You’re getting confident with this,” he comments, and suddenly your eyes are meeting. 

He looks like something you would paint. Something you would dream of, and then wake up and sketch down in the middle of the night, caught by some sort of frenzy, some urgency mixed with an impending fear of forgetting, of losing it. Losing him. 

“I’m gonna draw you.”

He doesn’t connect the words for a bunch of seconds. Not until you’re standing up and running out of the room and he asks himself, why, why the fuck is she leaving?

“Candy?” he calls, unsure. 

He tries to see what in the world you’ve written on his ass, but you’re making your way back in the room, tablet in hand, and your steps are bouncy and your tits follow the movement so his attention is divided. 

“What— Where—?” He’s confused. 

And then you’re perched on the armchair at the corner of the room, and the light from your tablet reflects on your face, and you look spirited, caught by some urgency he can’t quite find a name for. 

“Candy, for the love of—”

“Just a bunch of minutes. A quick sketch, no more.”

He’s been patient. He’s been understanding. He’s let you tease him, and he’s let you touch him, lick him, suck him. He still has your taste all over his face and chin and he still feels the phantom touch of your breasts against his crotch and all he wants is to feel you on him, around him, against him. 

“Please,” he whines. 

“Just a minute.”

He swells. Frowns. Thrusts his hips against the mattress. 

“Almost—” you say, drawing a couple more lines. 

You’re in his arms next. “Put that down, Candy.” His face is right above yours and he’s carrying you bridal style. “Put it down,” he repeats. 

You're very still. He's looking at your quick sketch, at the way it was all a rough frame and some basic lines. “You're gonna post that? Share it as some fanart instead of a live portrait?” He throws you on the bed and you clutch your tablet harder, trying to save it from any damage. He's on top of you next, grabbing the device and moving it to his drawer before he returns upon you, blocking your wrists above your head. 

“Are you maybe going to draw it faceless, so you can sell it as a picture, to decorate somebody's house?” He bends to your ear and nips at the side of your neck. “Let my ass hang naked on someone else's wall?” 

You feel overwhelmed and surprised by his counterattack, not really knowing how to react. 

He drags his body against yours, stealing a whimper from your lips. “I think you enjoyed topping a little too much tonight.” He flips you onto your front next, and you find yourself only mildly embarrassed that he's made only one tenth of the effort it had taken you to flip him. 

He slaps your ass, and it is nowhere as playful or light as the spank you'd given him. It is his turn to grab the pen. 

“Let's see if you can walk the talk, Candy. If you like the taste of your own medicine,” he muses, and he bites your ass cheek, bending over to start writing, but accidentally finding himself unable to resist the urge to sink his teeth in your plush flesh. 

“Since I'm not a selfish asshole, I'm gonna tell you what I'm writing. Here we go, 'This ass likes spankings from Jeon Jeongguk'. What do you say? Is it true?” 

You're panting, wiggling in his hold, trying anything to see the possessed look on his face. “It's true,” you admit, breathless. 

He smirks and lands one more hit on your ass. “Damn right it is,” he says confidently. 

He tugs your underwear off harshly, almost angry. 

Soon he's naked, and so are you, and he's slipping inside you while you're still on your front, your hips arched all the way up, cupped by his hands. “Let's make this fuck more fun than your drawing, huh?” 

And when he starts, goodness, you want him to never, ever stop. 

He's ruthless, and he only asks if you're alright once, after three strokes. After that, all's fair, and he's ramming inside you in a way that makes you gasp and arch further, trying to get him even deeper, to an even better angle. 

You can't really look at him, since you'd risk a kink in your neck, but he doesn't care. He only cares about his handwriting on your ass, and his name on it. He only cares about the way you're gasping his name, and sometimes, when he slams in at the right moment, the impact causes too much of your breath to come out, so the whispered begging gets punctuated by moaned-out, hiccuped syllables. 

He smacks your ass a few more times, his hand tingling, but the spanks seem to make you happy, so he doesn't stop, and he doesn't complain either. 

“You're jealous of me, Candy,” he manages to speak, slowing down just enough so he has more of your attention. “Do you have any idea how jealous I am of you? How hard it is to feel like you want to own me half as much as I want to be yours?” He's on his knees behind you, and his thrusts grow more patient, more luscious. Richer and fuller. “Sometimes I'm scared you'll leave me, and someone else will get to have all the wonderful sex I get to have with you. Someone else will get to see your face first thing in the morning, and become a character in your cartoons, and talk about you with their granny, and bring you home for New Year's.” His face collapses close to your shoulder. “What will I do with myself, then?” 

You turn your face and you finally get to see him. “Flip me around,” you order him, but your voice is fond. “I want to look you in the eyes while you fuck me like no one else has ever.” 

His hair is fuzzy with his perspiration, and his face glistens with a light sheen of sweat. “Sure?” he asks, in confirmation. 

“I'm sure,” you comfort him. 

He's only happy once you're below him, and he's on top of you, inside you. 

You clench around him, and he frowns deeply, trying to control himself. Still, he gives a sharp jab with his hips, and it steals your breath. 

“Like that,” you praise him. “I want you to fuck me like that. Like no one else can.” 

His eyes stay wide open, stubbornly nailed to yours as he starts moving. It's hard and slow, and it makes you see stars. 

“Do you still feel like drawing?” he provokes you, “Or am I fucking you good enough?” 

You hiss and bite his arm, both to keep him humble, but also, again, because you can — and nobody else does. 

“Maybe I could get on top of you so you can watch my tits bounce, and maybe that will make you want to draw,” you bite back, and next thing you know you're both sat up, you're on his lap and he's bouncing you on his dick. 

“Definitely feeling inspired right now,” he concedes. “Maybe I should stop and paint them.” 

You push him down and he's finally with his back to the mattress, you on top. “Or maybe you could shut your mouth and get busy so I can cum.” 

The slap lands almost immediately on your ass. “Dirty mouth. And a fucking divine cunt,” he speaks through gritted teeth. 

He lets you lead for about thirty seconds, during which he stays occupied with your boobs, grabbing them, slapping them, pinching your nipples, and then he grabs your hips and stills them. 

“Touch yourself,” he orders your roughly before he starts fucking up from below you. 

It escalates quickly from there, and in less than a minute you're gone, collapsing forward, against him, and he's so thankful because he's coming too and your kegels are squeezing him just right, and he only manages to say “fucking yours” before he abandons all his inhibitions and loses himself inside you. 

You come back to reality only, and you find yourself tucked in his embrace, his body above yours. You don’t know when he flipped the two of you over, but you like his weight on top of you. 

“Hey,” you murmur, combing his hair away from his face. 

His expression is lazy and satisfied. 

Well done, you tell yourself, almost giving a pat to your own shoulder. He looks fantastically fucked, deliciously edible and perfectly yours. 

“Hey you,” he replies, with the most heavenly, blissful grin on his face. No, too tired to be a grin, more like a glowy smile. It’s not fully on, it looks like those battery-operated lights when they’re almost out of energy, a bit faded, or maybe pale. Faint, feeble, dim. Soft. Muted. If his bunny smiles were jewel tones, this was the most delicate pastel pink. A powder baby blue, almost robin egg blue. 

You want to wrap yourself in the hazy glow radiating from him, gentle as a sunny dawn in late May. 

“So glad you got those Calvin’s,” you joke, and there it is, bunny grin, ten million watts. Apparently that makes his battery die because his head collapses to your neck and he doesn’t seem willing or ready to lift himself back up. 

“So glad I made you jealous. But also sorry,” he says, truly apologetic. “I’m happy we did this. I’m happy I saw you like this.” 

His lips tickle the side of your neck, and you squirm a little, but you try not to move too much. You want to be comfortable for him to rest on. You want him to stay like that on top of you forever. “I’m still maddish. But I think I can deal with it.”

“There’s more pictures coming,” he says tentatively, and he makes the effort to pick up his head to give you a helpless look, trying to protect himself already by giving you the sweetest pair of puppy eyes he’s ever used on anyone. 

“Oh, I’m totally getting your ass branded,” you reply, saccharine. “I was thinking I could make those ribbons, like the ones the police use, except I put my name on it and I wrap it all around your chest, so they can’t drool all over your abs.”

He laughs, and the sound is boyish and playful, and lovely. You fall in love a tiny bit more. 

“Can I see the pictures in advance?”

He hums as he thinks about it for three seconds, except he already knows how he wants to play it. “Mh…” he says some more, keeping you on your toes. “No.” He looks up, testing you. “But let’s say I hope you get that cockring ready.”

You pull your head back, eyeing him suspiciously. “You’re not naked in your Calvin’s, right?”

He grins, gives you a devilish wink. “Maybe.”

You grab his cheeks and squeeze his face and he laughs so hard you can’t be possibly mad at him for even a nanosecond. “You’ll be the death of me.”

“And your tits will be it for me,” he flirts back. 

You shake your head. “Brat.”

And he kisses you. Just that. 

Before he hits the shower the following morning, Jeongguk inspects the damage you’ve done on him. 

He’s quite happy with it. A very faint bruise on his neck. A red splotch on his abs, and another on his hip, but nothing that won’t fade within one or two days. He knows you know the drill by now. 

He turns around to inspect his back, and he’s okay with it, nothing that will get him in trouble in case he needs to be shirtless or generically undressed around staff members. He drops his underwear and it’s only once he’s making his way to the shower that he notices something strange on his asscheek. 

Oh, fuck. Suddenly reminded of your little handiwork with the pen the night before, he bends to the side, trying to get a better view at his ass. 

He finds himself wobbling side to side, like a silly puppy chasing his tail, and that is exactly the way you find him when you enter the bathroom. 

A laugh bubbles out of you and you smack his butt playfully. “Do you need help with that?” you ask, cheery. 

“No,” he bites back, but he has the most innocent, pouty look on his face, and he is having fun a little. “Maybe,” he concedes, his voice young. 

You wrap your arms around him and rise to your toes, propping your chin on his shoulder as you hug him from behind. “I wrote, ‘Candy’s babyboy’.”

His ears go red, just the tiniest bit. “Really?” His expression is so sweet. 

“Really,” you confirm, confident, serious, and loving. 

“You’re not making fun of me,” he asks, vulnerably. 

“I promise I’m really, really not, Guk.” You kiss his shoulder. “You’re my babyboy. And my sexy man. And just mine, generally speaking.”

He nods, a happy, fulfilled look on his face. “Right.” He’s once more confident. Entirely adult. 

“Love you,” you reassure him again, and then you kiss his shoulder, again. 

He grins. There he is, your boy. “Love you too.”

Hi it's Dita, the writer, please consider reblogging or leaving a comment to keep this poor gremlin fanfic writer motivated. Bye and I LOVE YOU!!!

[melodic-haze]

OMG FUCKING AYAKA ABSOLUTELY SENSELESS WITH A STRAP GOT ME LIKE UGHMSGGHRKLSH LIKE IMAGINE EDGING HER MULTIPLE TIMES, SHE WAS BEING SUCH A GOOD GIRL, YET YOU DON'T GIVE A FUCK ABOUT IT AND JUST BE CRUEL TO HER LIKE AGHDSFKKHSJGRHG AGHHHHHH (I am sane)

☆ — DEMO TRACK: sub!Ayaka x dom!afab!Reader

☆ — TYPE: NSFW

☆ — CONTENT WARNINGS: Reader has a strap, rough sex stuff, BDSM mention ig?

☆ — NOTES: Dude what if I combusted on the spot HELLOOOOOOO GOD I NEED HER (I'm not sane)

I need her to go mental PLEASE

I love the thought that Ayaka's canonically really REALLY pretty but at the same time I KNOW I'd hate it cuz of how she DEFINITELY gets hit on like a lot

She wouldn't be all that clueless of her beauty's reputation but like.......at the same time she kinda is, with the way that she kinda dismisses the attention as basically awe and reverence bc yk. She's in the Yashiro Commission

The attention just. Irks you One Too Many Times 🫶 and it doesn't help her case that she looks soooo utterly delicious, crying bc of you, so you do something about that!!!!!!

Ayaka doesn't know what she's done wrong.

She had sworn she's been behaving like a good girl for you, obeying your every command and being at your beck and call (minus when she's at work for her family's commission, you're not unreasonable), yet she was still faced with such a predicament.

Inazuma's cute little princess was clueless—was it something she said? Or maybe something she had done unconsciously to prompt you to essentially raise torturous hell on her?

She could try to rack her brains, and by archons she did try at first, and yet the only thing that she could even think of at the moment was the severe desperation for release.

The woman could see your borderline sadistic grin grow further as tears streamed down her face, cheeks almost as wet as her gushing pussy that has been mercilessly edged for.. who knows how long, by this point.

"'m sorry," she hiccuped, resisting the urge to buck her hips into your strap because despite everything, she was still your good girl, "I'm so-- mnf, sorryyy-- AH!"

You slapped her ass, pale skin already so red from the previous impacts it's had, before squeezing it roughly as you spoke, "Saying sorry and you don't even know what you're apologising for..."

"B-But I've done everything you asked of me, I--"

"Are you talking back?"

Her mouth clamps shut.

"I said--" and you grab a fistful of her hair to pull her up to your level, your hips moving as if punctuating every pause you make, "--are you.. talking.. back?"

She lets out those pathetic little whimpers of hers as she feels the tip of your faux cock bottom out inside of her in quick, deep thrusts, "I'm sss-- sorry I talked back please--"

"Please what?"

"I need to feel you move please I've been such a good g-- GIRL-- oohhhthankyouthankyou thankyou--"

You had relented to her wishes with an eyeroll, your hips practically slamming into hers as you pulled on her hair as a way to keep her upright. That along with the pain from having her hair pulled in the first place and all that pent-up lust from not being allowed that sweet release had easily helped escalate that impending high.

Ayaka knew that such a state of undress, such an expression on her face, was unbecoming of the graceful White Heron Princess but at this point? The only thing she was concerned about was being your princess, along with what she had been chasing this entire--

She doesn't register it immediately, but when she notices that you've deliberately slipped out of her cunt--

"Funny, how the Kamisato clan's very princess whines like a pathetic bitch."

Another climax absolutely ruined by you, yet she still doesn't know what she did wrong.

But she won't fight back, she won't ever fight back. She was your good girl, and good girls don't only do what they're told.

They take what they're given too, no matter what.

I don't even have much to say after writing that I'm ngl

Just that she's definitely a bit of a masochist lol

God she would just be SO FUN to toy with no matter how hard or soft you go just saying 😜😜😜😜 who knew such a reserved girl was a whore all along

There's a saying for this somewhere you all know what it is guys

Anyway enjoy 🫶

[amaya-writes]

for ringtober i think it would be so funny to see the obey me brothers reacting to reader losing her ring lol i just know some of them *cough* Mammon and Asmo *cough* would be sooo dramatic

Ringtober Masterlist

Notes: I actually thought this was such a fun idea and had too many thoughts abt it so had to do hcs lol

Warnings: n/a just fluff

Characters involved: Lucifer, Mammon. Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus, Beelzebub, Belphegor

Gender-neutral reader, you/yours

Lucifer

Highkey mad.

He cannot believe his fiance could be so irresponsible, and will state as much. His reaction and words will probably hurt, and he doesn't realise that until later.

Lucifer is out doing yet another task with Diavolo when the demon prince casually mentions how he saw you looking all over the place for your ring and you seemed quite sad.

You somehow convince Mammon to help you out since he's literally the best at finding shining things (and keeping them to himself, but he's too scared of Lucifer to steal your ring), and Solomon since he seems to have a solution for everything.

At the end of the day when it's dinner time and you're still not back at RAD trying to find your ring, Lucifer can't help but go find you.

He embraces you and says he was wrong to chastise you so harshly, your determination to find the ring showcases you weren't being irresponsible but it was just a small accident.

Lucifer isn't a very openly affectionate demon which is why he was hurt that you lost a symbol of his rare affection.

When the two of you return to HOL you're happy to discover Solomon waiting at the gate for you.

Apparently, Cerberus had been sitting on your ring the entire time. It must have slipped off when you were petting him and fell onto his dog bed.

Lucifer finds the entire ordeal sort of amusing, and you can't help but giggle too as you promise to pocket your ring before you pet Cerberus, or any other animal for that matter.

Lucifer secretly makes a duplicate of both of your rings the next day, he can't believe he didn't think of doing that before. He also thinks it would be cute to pass down the duplicates to your children.

Mammon

Is actually a little offended.

That was the first piece of jewellery Mammon acquired without stealing it. He even worked extra hard for his modelling agency to save up white money for you.

He never wanted anyone to ever be able to tell you your engagement (and wedding) ring was bought unfaithfully.

So, after putting in so much effort Mammon couldn't help but feel at least a little offended you just lost the ring.

To make matters worse you lost it because Asmo took you to get manicures and the lady over there misplaced it.

"For all we know it could be stolen by now!"

Mammon lets out a big annoyed huff and decides to give you the silent treatment for the rest of the day.

This doesn't last long and he ends up going to your room to find you, he feels sad seeing you look so dejected and decides to sort of apologise.

"Look what's done is done no point gettin' all sad bout it."

He feels worse because you seem genuinely sorry and apologise a lot.

Things end well because Asmo shows up at your room a little later with the ring in his hand. He says the receptionist found it with your wallet, which you also happened to forget there.

Leviathan

You did what?! That's it you don't love him. This whole thing was a lie, you clearly don't care about Levi or his love for you, you-

He will literally break off into the longest ramble ever and you're too scared to cut him off and make matters worse.

Levi locks himself up in his room and refuses to come out or talk to anyone. It gets so serious all the brothers are involved and you're all figuring out different ways to find your ring.

Lucifer eventually casts a spell and figures out your ring is in...Levi's room?

You storm to his door and tell him if he doesn't open it right now you won't have to find the ring because there won't be a wedding (a blatant lie, of course).

He opens it, you talk, and that's when Levi remembers he actually took your ring from you last night because he wanted to click pictures.

The ring was a custom design made to subtly match the design of the first game you played together, so obviously when Levi got a new installment of the game featuring the tiara your design was inspired by he just had to get a picture of the two together.

You were asleep on your gaming chair and he didn't want to wake you up so he just slipped it off your hand, but then forgot to give it back and just kept it in his drawer beside the game.

Mammon and Asmo couldn't help but laugh at how stupid this entire ordeal was, the rest of the brothers follow suit and then leave the two of you alone.

Now Levi's sheepish and the one apologising except he's just going on another ramble of how you probably hate him and won't talk to him but he deserves it.

Literally won't shut up until you cuddle him and tell him it's alright.

Satan

Locates it with a spell.

But first, Satan finds it so amusing how worried you are that he just has to play along and pretend to be annoyed.

If anything this whole ordeal was his fault because he was the who dragged you out to pet the street cats. In fact Satan almost lost his own ring when one of them was playing with his hand.

He has a small amused smile on his lips as you profusely apologise and insist on dragging him back to the park at midnight to try and find the ring.

Satan lets you ramble all the way there but when you two reach he realises you're getting a little too sad for his liking, so, he tells you to calm down and whips out a handy book of spells he had on him.

Ends up finding it in less than a minute, and that was a good thing too since the kitten playing with it looked like she was going to swallow the ring.

He triumphantly rescues your ring from the kitty, coos and pats her for a bit, and then return to your side with a boyish smile that almost quells your annoyance.

"You could have done this the entire time?!"

Satan lets out a genuine laugh so rare at your question you couldn't help but let your anger slip away as you laughed with him too.

He decides it's a good idea to recreate the moment he proposed to you and kneels down on one knee, slipping the ring on your finger and pulling you in for a kiss.

The moment ends up being a surprisingly romantic one you fondly retell to Asmo, who ends up gossiping about it to anyone with ears willing to listen to his squeels.

Asmodeus

Will never let you forget this.

When I tell you this man screeches.

Has the most girly squeeky yelling voice ever, in fact you actually can't even feel offended because you're too busy trying not to burst out laughing.

He's not even that mad about the ring he's more annoyed that you left him the entire day and were at Diavolo's hanging out with Barbatos and Luke.

"First you forget me then you lose the symbol of my love for you- next you'll be finding a new devilishly handsome demon to marry!"

Gets pouty. VERY pouty. Expects you to not leave his side at all until you find the ring, which is almost impossible since how could you find it if you don't leave his side?

"Well, then you'll just have to spend eternity stuck to me. I can't have you parading around without a symbol of affection, after all."

Thankfully for you Barbatos comes to the rescue, even if it's many hours later.

By the time Barbs shows up at HOL you've already spent an entire day apologising to Asmo and being by his side every second. He almost didn't let you go to the bathroom alone, claiming its nothing he hasn't seen before.

You had spent so many hours sitting on his lap idly combing your fingers through his hair or drawing random shapes on his chest you were certain you would go crazy.

Asmo didn't even let you check your DDD, which was too bad considering Barbatos messaged you about the ring almost as soon as you reached HOL.

When Barbatos drops by HOL during dinner you can't help but hug him excitedly as you thank him for finding the ring. He casually claims it was never lost in the first place, Barbatos simply set it aside after you removed it so you wouldn't get it dirty while baking.

Asmo seems almost sad to see the ring again since he doesn't have an excuse to keep you by his side anymore, but he gets over his poutyness after you suggest having a sleepover.

Safe to say you did a lot more than sleeping that night.

Beelzebub

Is probably the most calm of them all.

He asks you if you accidentally ate the ring, because he's constantly scared he might end up eating his ring.

You're kind of confused and ask him why he isn't offended or something and Beel just says he knows you would never lose it on purpose.

In fact he helps you try to find the ring so the two of you spend the entire day retracing your footsteps and having a lot of snacks.

By the time you make it back to Beel and Belphie's bedroom, which was the first place you went to help Beel wake up Belphie, you've almost forgotten about the ring.

The day just felt like a fun date with Beel and you found yourself feel grateful for having such an understanding and sweet husband-to-be.

You only remember the ring again when Belphie perks up as the two of you enter the room, suddenly reaching for a shiny object on his bedside table.

"Oh there you are, your ring slipped off this morning, I tried giving it to you earlier but I couldn't find you or Beel."

The three of you end up laughing about the situation, Beel gives Belphie some sushi he bought for him (because you cannot convince me Beel isn't that type of sibling who always gets you food when they go out) and you all just end up having a calm night in.

Maybe a movie night with loads of popcorn.

Belphegor

Looks at you with the most 'are you fucking kidding me' expression ever.

You not only chose to wake up the avatar of sloth in the middle of the day you also did it without giving him any of your usual kisses or hugs and paired that with very VERY bad news.

At this point you might as well run for your life.

The way you shake him awake almost startles Belphie but your nervous mannerisms as you just sit beside him quietly makes him wide awake.

He's now staring at you expectantly and you have no choice but to admit your mistake, which leads to a very annoyed Belphie.

"I expected better from my fiance."

Almost as mean as Lucifer if not more. Depends on how sensitive you are to such things.

Unlike Lucifer he doesn't chastise you too much, instead gives you that 'I'm disappointed in you' silence that makes you want to scream in frustration.

You knew you shouldn't have told him, but you were somewhat hoping Belphie somehow had your ring.

You end up apologising and then scramble out of his bed ready to race out of the attic and restart your ring hunt, but are tugged back by a familiar arm loosely wrapping around your waist.

"Where do you think you're going?" "To find the ring, of course." Belphie scoffs, but lets go of you to instead stand up beside you, this obviously confuses you, making him almost regret leaving his peaceful slumber for you.

"You look like you're going to burst into tears any minute. The chances of you seeing, much less finding, anything are little to none."

He sounds pretty guilty as he says it, making you smile softly as Belphie takes your hand and leads you out the room.

He almost immediately goes to Satan and just asks him to do a spell to find the ring. This not only surprises but also annoys you since you could have done that first and Belphie wouldn't even know the ring was gone.

Ends up being in the attic bathroom, you spent last night with Belphie so when you took your morning shower in his bathroom. You must have forgotten to wear your ring after you were done.

You thank Satan profusely then head back up with Belphie.

He beats you to the bathroom and slips the ring back on your finger, raising your hand to drop a tired peck on your knuckles.

"Don't lose it again." His voice is soft and he pulls you in for a quick hug with his chin resting on your head.

It's clear Belphie feels bad for snapping at you, so you two end up dozing off for the rest of the day.

[koinotame]

boob windows. that's it that's the fic

word count: 1.1K content warnings: this is meant to be yandere au and sagau/self aware au so uh. hint of that, but mostly just crack. nothing Super Nsfw but the whole thing is raunchy and suggestive humour

characters included: mostly ei, but childe, kaeya and briefly zhongli also make an appearance with some others mentioned

a/n: this is a repost (slightly edited)! this was on my to-edit-&-repost list for a while now and this seemed like a good day to do so lol. alas this was originally written before the sumeru release so while editing there wasn't really an opportunity for me to add in wriothesley apparently out-butting zhongli or lyney's tigh high garters and i only just realised kaveh could technically also count here so uh. forgive me. i'll write something for them some day

"is… is everything alright, your grace?"

you loudly suck up another boba pearl, not moving your gaze from where it’s been lodged the past several minutes. "mm, everything’s fine."

ei fidgets in front of you, the cup held tightly in her hands still almost full. she looks unsure, but decides that she knows better than to question you. "if you say so."

it’s clear this isn’t what she had in mind when she personally came to see you instead of sending the raiden shōgun to greet and attend to you. the one time she comes out of her plane, all you’re seemingly doing is ignoring all table manners and gawking at her chest.

yes, that’s right, you’re ogling her chest. or, more accurately, you’re ogling her tiddy window.

between her and kaeya, she’s showing off much more chest. but then kaeya knows what he’s doing, while ei just seems to have it there for convenience over aesthetic…

you squint at her while you get lost in thoughts, and ei’s fidgeting intensifies.

ah shit. you forgot about itto. he wins in terms of who shows off their chest the most, you guess. he’s even wearing that… you’re not sure what to call it but tit belt fits well enough. anyway, the tit belt accentuates his pecs very, very nicely, although they do hide his nips from sight. alas.

you suppose gorou and cyno also exist, but they don’t have the same appeal. oh, and navia and la signora, but both of them are just wearing a sleeveless, collarless dress, so you’re not sure that counts either.

but then by that argument, does itto count? he’s not even wearing a shirt. cyno isn’t wearing a shirt either. and what gorou has is more of a tummy window than anything… but he does have that little window?

between gorou and childe, gorou is definitely winning though. you’d apologise for slandering your poor ajax but between the little triangle he shows off and gorou’s entire tummy out… you’re not sorry. though… there’s something to be said about a small slither of skin inviting you to stick your hands into that gorou having his whole tummy out doesn’t have.

wait, wait. you just had a genius idea. actually, two.

first of all, zhongli with a tiddy window… you are considering. then again, you guess his biggest asset is his bubble butt.

second, and way bigger: an idol group with some of your characters… but they all have tiddy windows.

"…your grace?"

you’re brought out of your stupor by ei, who is gazing in concern at you. you blink at her.

she struggles to find words. "are… are you sure everything is alright? is something not to your liking?"

it’s then that you realise you’ve started drooling at some point. shit.

you hurriedly wipe at it and clear your throat. "yeah, I’m sure. sorry, were you saying anything?"

she looks taken aback. "no, please don’t apologise. I should be the one to… I shouldn’t have interrupted your thinking."

it’s then that childe happens to walk by, and, like the attention hog he is, tries to get a foot into the conversation. you stay mostly unresponsive while the two chat (which seems to be mostly childe trying to hold a conversation with you while ei admonishes him), your eyes drifting back to ei’s tiddy window.

you really could stare at that for the rest of your life.

childe then follows your line of sight and chokes.

…though more because of him trying to laugh while choking on the dango he was eating than embarrassment at having caught onto your very appropriate thoughts.

ei looks confused but makes no move to help him other than pushing his head away from the table so he doesn’t make a mess. you honestly can’t bring yourself to be embarrassed.

he finally manages to swallow properly (you almost want to pat him on the back and praise him for swallowing like a good boy) before turning to you.

"do you want me to strip? my chest looks much nicer, I assure you."

you and ei stare at him.

he raises his eyebrows, pointing at her. "her skin looks way too soft and pampered." she looks almost offended. "mine’s covered in scars and I have actual muscles, doesn’t that feel much better for fondling?"

"what if…" you lean closer to him mischievously, like you’re about to tell him some big secret. "I prefer soft chests?"

he deflates. ei flushes, ducking her head into her still-near-full cup of bubble tea. "well, if that’s what you prefer… I can’t get rid of the scars, but I can stop working out. hmm…" he looks like he’s starting to make serious plans.

"no, I honestly don’t really care. all tiddy is good tiddy." you clap your hands. "anyway! it’s more about the boob window. you already have a (sad) tummy window, so it wouldn’t work."

"why not? wouldn’t that be double the sexy?"

"no, it cancels out."

you’re going to ignore whatever gorou has going on, because that works pretty well.

ei looks unfathomably lost.

"and anyway, if we’re talking about tummy windows, gorou wins."

he deflates further.

then he perks up.

"what about…" he brings his fingers to his face. you think it’s an attempt at looking cool. "butt window?"

you deadpan. "have fun getting arrested for public indecency."

he winks at you. "I wouldn’t mind getting arrested if you’re the one punishing me."

you have to physically hold the electro archon back.

"why, I wasn’t expecting to run into any of you here. what are you three up to?" kaeya’s voice cuts through ei’s snarls all of a sudden. he seems amused, but there’s an edge in the way he eyes childe.

"I am definitely sexier than any archon or soldier," childe says at the exact same time that you say "we’re discussing tiddy windows."

kaeya lets out something between a snort and a chuckle. it’s a pretty sound, but you can’t let yourself be distracted by him. he knows what he’s doing.

"oh? in that department, don’t I win?"

you stare intently at his.

"do you want to touch?"

you move your stare to his face. "am I allowed to?"

he smiles, mirth in his eye. "you needn’t ask. all of me belongs to you, and that includes my chest."

you seriously consider it and childe takes the opportunity to shove himself between the two of you.

"wait, wait! I offered first! ignore him, I’m right here!" "your grace," ei cuts in, "if you’d like to, I don’t mind you touching any part of me."

"ugh, fine, fine! I’ll just sample all of you then. if you’re sure you’re okay with it."

zhongli, somehow, picks the absolute worst moment to walk in.

the look on his face is priceless (you can’t tell if he looks offended or jealous), but even that doesn’t compare to the feeling of soft tiddy in your hands.

you were right, tiddy windows really are the best.

[ughgoaway]

playing on my mind

content warnings: swearing, referring to Matty as tall (look we all lie for plot purposes okay), dilf Matty and rushed writing... i think that's it? word count- 3.3k ish

a/n: woah this was quick but I am nothing if not impulsive!! this is just a one-shot but if y'all want a series I might do one?? idk it depends on how inspired I am lol. but yes this is just my little blurb-thing from yesterday fleshed out into an actual story!! I'm so glad people liked the idea, I hope this doesn't disappoint <333

(I didn't proofread this so I apologise if its utterly shit </3)

“And off you go! If you need your pencils sharpened or help, make sure you raise your hand! I’ll come to see you!” You say to the group of 30 little balls of energy in front of you. 60 eyes looking up at you might seem intimidating to most, but when it's a hyperactive group of 5-year-olds; the fear wears off slightly.

It was family tree week in your classroom, and you had given your little ones the usual task of drawing their family, each set up with pieces of paper and various pencils and pens to create their masterpieces. Seeing them smile and talk about their older sisters and brothers or how much they love their parents always warmed your heart. 

You originally got into teaching with every intention of working with teenagers. You were sure you shouldn't be moulding such young minds - you were never sure your mind was a very good example. But one test week in a year 1 classroom changed your outlook entirely. Seeing the pure, unadulterated joy on a young child's face was something beyond comparison. 

Getting to watch them grow and develop into little people brought you so much happiness that it could never compare to standing in front of a group of grumpy teenagers. Each teen boy clearly trying to get you over to their desk to “flirt” with you, well as much firting as a 15-year-old boy can do.

Seeing a child come out of their shell, make friendships, and discover their passions made your heart warm in a way nothing else did. So as soon as you qualified you jumped at the opportunity to teach these little ones, this class might be your first but you are sure it will always be your favourite.

And of course, despite what every teacher tells you, they have a favourite student. You were adamant when you began that you really wouldn't have a favourite but then little Annie Healy came bounding into your classroom with a mop of curly hair, untamable energy and the cutest slightly wonky smile you've ever seen. 

She very quickly stole your heart, always wanting to tell you stories and going off on tangents rather quickly, organising tea parties but soon getting distracted leaving you at a small table surrounded by teddy bears giving a toast. Her little body seemed to be filled with enough energy to power the world 3 times over, and you couldn't love her anymore. The idea that she would be leaving your class broke your heart every time you thought about it, despite people telling you not to get attached - you did,

You had just settled at your desk after explaining for the 4th time to Zach that sticking pencils up our noses isn't a very good idea. You ended up telling him if he pushed too far, he'd touch his brain, and soon after that, the pencils stayed firmly in his hand rather than up any nose. If any student was the problem child, it was him. You couldn't hate any student, but let's just say he's given you one too many impromptu haircuts this year to be in line for your favourite.

Soon your real favourite student stuck her arm into the air and wiggled it around in an attempt to get you to see her sooner, little Annie Healy was ever impatient- a trait that is only endearing on her. You quickly nodded and started wandering over, trying not to laugh at her large toothy grin back at you.

“Hi sweetheart, do you need some help?” you say, crouching down to her eye level, flashing a sweet smile.

“Hi miss y/n!” she began, her eyes flittering around your face before landing on your hair, and soon, her hands were stroking your head.

“Wow! I like your hair! It's got sparkly clips in it! You know I asked my daddy for some like that, and he said-” you gently placed a hand on her shoulder in an attempt to stop the tangent before it started. You knew she'd somehow end up keeping you there for 20 minutes, giving you a detailed list of all of her Barbie dolls and their jobs if you didn't redirect her quickly enough.

“Thank you, Annie! I saw your arm wiggling in the air earlier. Did you need some help?” her eyes light up as she remembered why she called you over here.

“Oh! Yeah, I want to write what's in my daddy’s hands, but I don't know how to spell it. Will you help me?” she says, bringing her attention back to her drawing and grabbing the black pencil to continue her work. It's the first time you actually looked at her drawing, and to say you were concerned would be an understatement.

Most drawings of family consist of the same basic elements; a mum, a dad, a sun in the corner, and a house that is wildly disproportionate to everything else.

So imagine your surprise when you look down to see 4 men in what seems to be leather jackets, holding various musical instruments, and a very tall dog next to them.

You blink a few times. Just checking what you're seeing is right. The lineup starts with a tall man holding a guitar, next to a slightly shorter man also holding a guitar with a mess of black scribbles on his head. Next up is a very tall man with drumsticks in his hands and a kit behind him, and finally another very tall man with a beard and a bass. The concern briefly melts away as you consider how impressive it is she knows the difference. In the bottom left corner is a black dog with very long legs and a big pink tongue sticking out, the dog was almost as tall as the first man but you're aware kids aren’t known for their skill with proportion.

No one had prepared you for this in teaching school, there was never a lecture about what to do if one of your kids does a mildly troubling family drawing of 4 men in leather jackets and a horse dog. You try to stutter a response to Annie, but no real words are leaving your mouth. Just a jumble of sounds, each one sounding more confused and stressed than the last.

You flash a look at her only to be met with a confused head tilt and sad eyes. Oh god. She thought you hated her drawing. Shit.

Time for damage control.

You make the decision then and there not to ask her about the details of her drawing, desperately trying not to make her cry. 

Maybe you could go and see her mum in the playground? Yes, that's what you'll do. You'll walk her out, have a brief discussion with Mum, and make sure Annie knows her family isn't 4 men in a band and then leave her be. That sounds like the professional thing to do.

You take a deep breath and smile at Annie, and soon her downturned lips flashed that cheesy grin you knew so well. You tighten your hand on her shoulder and grab a pen, ready to help her any way she needs. 

“Do you mean the word ‘guitar’ Annie?” she gives you an excited nod as you continue speaking, “Ah yes, that's a really hard word for even grown-ups to spell. Let's work it out together, hmm?”

With your mind racing you help her sound it out and label her drawing, even stopping to sharpen her black colouring pencil for her- there's a lot of black for young girls drawing but she's committed to an aesthetic, and part of you respects that.

On the walk back to the desk, you begin practising your speech in your head, trying to figure out how to ask why she’s drawing a band as her family without unknowingly offending mum. Maybe she just really likes music?

You run through your memories trying to think of her mentioning a band before, but nothing comes to mind, Annie doesn't even stay on track long enough to talk about her family. Always seeing something shiny and discussing that instead. 

You flick your eyes to her one more time just to see her animatedly talking with another little girl on her table, her hands gesticulating wildly and her curls bouncing as she tells her story.

The sight calms you slightly, seeing the little girl you know so well acting exactly as she should be. You have the fleeting thought that you might be overreacting, but eventually, you collect the drawings to see Annie had dated her work “1975”. Yup, that discussion with her parents was definitely happening.

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

The bell rings, and you manage to catch Annie just before she runs off into the playground without you, “Hi Annie! I have your drawing from today. Should we show it to mummy and daddy together?” her eyes light up as her curls bounce from her excited nods. 

You walk hand in hand out onto the playground, crouching down you make eye contact with Annie before asking, “Can you point out your mum or dad Annie?”

She nods and begins scanning the playground. You stifle a laugh at the look of concentration on the young girl's face. Her nose is scrunched along with her eyebrows, one hand pulling at a curl by her ear and the other holding yours. Soon, you see her face brighten, and her eyes fill with joy. 

“DADDY!!” is the scream that comes from the little girl as her hand shoots from her head to point to the corner of the playground, she starts dragging you before you even look up but as you do, you feel your heart drop.

As a student teacher, you'd definitely seen some hot dads, but they were still dads. Most were slightly creepy, partially balding, and talked about nothing but golf and their “annoying” wives. You were used to that kind of dad, not exactly this kind.

Standing nonchalantly in the corner of the playground was a tall man. A pile of salt and pepper curls sat on top of his head; untamed but effortlessly and obnoxiously cool. The white t-shirt he was wearing did nothing to hide the patchwork of tattoos that snaked up his arms. The low neck of the top even teased the top of his chest tattoo. Sunglasses sat on his face, they gave him an "I'm too cool" rocker vibe that, for some unknown reason, made you dizzy.

In one hand, he had a lit cigarette, something that was not allowed on school property, but the way his cheeks hollowed as he took a drag had you forgetting that rule completely. He dropped the butt of the cigarette to crush it with his heavy boots before taking a sip of the can of coke that was in his other hand. 

As he noticed you coming over, a dazzling smile broke out on his face. You felt your knees weaken as you tried to brush off how hot he was. 

You then realised you actually had to speak to this man. Fuck. You're not sure you even have a voice currently. If you opened your mouth, you're sure incoherent noises would come out, followed by wild hand motions trying to explain your insane behaviour.

The closer you got, the less you stared at him, feeling too intimidated to keep looking in his direction. This did mean you almost tripped 3 times, but you would rather fall than risk making eye contact with this intimidatingly attractive man.

Annie dropped your hand as you finally reached the man, and she jumped into his arms. He grunted at the force but soon began pressing kisses all over her face, smiling at her uncontrollable giggles.

Quickly, the man noticed your presence and stuck a hand out to introduce himself, “Hi! Sorry about that, you know what it's like when kids miss you. I’m Annie’s dad, Matty.” 

And this is where a normal person would introduce themselves, stick their hand out, and shake Matty’s. Maybe even say their name and start talking, but oh no. Not you. You stood there motionless and just said “Matty” breathlessly to yourself 3 times over.

Time dragged on in the 10 seconds Matty stood there with his hand out. If you weren't aware of how time worked, you would swear you stood there in stilted silence for 10 minutes. 

By some grace of god, little Annie Healy saved you and introduced you, “Daddy. This is Miss y/n. She wanted to come and show you my drawing." 

Matty retracted his hand and pushed the sunglasses that sat on the bridge of his nose up to his mess of curls, just as wayward as his daughters. His deep brown eyes met yours as he tilted his head questioningly at your behaviour. His smile remained wide at you, his tongue swiped over his bottom lip, and you felt your heart stutter. A litany of inappropriate thoughts swirling through your mind.

He quickly diverted his attention back to his daughter, “Oh really munchkin? Is your drawing just that amazing? Is Miss y/n going to send it to all the museums?” he said whilst tickling her sides. You smiled at the pair of them watching Annie throw her head back with erratic laughter. 

Finally, you manage to right yourself and begin speaking, “Right. Sorry about that, long day,” you explain, looking apologetically at Matty, who only nodded and tried to hide his widening smile at your flustered state. 

“I'm just here to talk about Annie's drawing,” you pause briefly and look at Annie in her dad's arms. Not wanting to disappoint her, you form a plan in your mind. “Hey Annie, why don't you go practise some hopscotch! I'm just going to have a quick chat with your dad, okay?”

Before you’d even finished your sentence, Annie was wiggling out of her dad's arms and running off.

“She's got endless energy that one hasn't she?” you say wistfully, staring off in the direction she ran, watching her jump around and giggle with some of her friends.

“Ah like father like daughter, I suppose” Matty says, grinning at your clear love for his little girl. He feels his heart warm at your caring eyes. “So what seems to be the issue? I'm sure you're not over here because the Louvre has asked for Annie’s drawing?” 

You laugh at Matty's joke, perhaps a little too hard. Nervous laughter was one of your less attractive traits, but you try to shake it off and have an actual adult conversation with Matty. 

“Ah no, no phone calls from Paris yet,” you begin laughing lightly, you pull out Annie's drawing and pass it over to Matty and start to analyse his reaction as you finish speaking, “I was just coming over to ask why Annie's family portrait is seemingly a band? I wanted to make sure she knows her family isn't 4 tall men in leather jackets and a surprisingly tall horse dog.”

As you finish your sentence, Matty bursts out in hysterical laughter, folding over as his chortling laughter takes over his whole body. Your face scrunches up at his reaction, your eyebrows are pinched, and a small frown overtakes your features. 

Eventually, Matty catches his breath and looks up at you only to realise how strange his reaction appears. His hand shoots up to your arm and begins to stroke it lightly as he attempts to explain himself.

Each featherlight stroke of his fingers made your breath hitch. You felt your eyes fogging over, and your ears felt as if they were stuffed with cotton wool, the surrounding sounds suddenly becoming muted.

A shake of your head brought you back to earth as you fought to focus on the words Matty was saying.

“Oh I'm so sorry, once you know the story you’ll understand my reaction” Matty began explaining with wide apologetic eyes, “basically Annie's mum isn't in the picture, it's just me and my 3 best friends,” he said smiling.

You lightly laugh and say, “Ah I'm assuming they are the man with the guitar, the one with the bass and the other with the drumsticks?” You finish with a teasing tilt of your head.

Matty's fingers encircle your wrist as that smile you've quickly grown to love appears on his face once again at your teasing.

“Yes those are the ones. You see we’re all in a band - hence all the instruments. I always tell Annie that Uncle George, Ross, and Adam are our family. So when you asked for a family drawing...”

“She drew her family!” You finish his sentence for him, staring at his hand and holding your wrist as you do. He quickly drops it, and you curse yourself for bringing it to his attention.

You wrap your arms around your stomach protectively in an attempt to hide your mounting embarrassment.

Matty smiles and starts to speak again, only to be interrupted by you, “Wait I understand that, but why did she date it ‘1975’?”

Somehow, Matty's smile grew again, “Our band is called the 1975. Weird, I know, but it comes from me being young and pretentious with a Jack Kerouac book.”

Before you could respond, Annie came bounding over and wrapped herself around her dad's leg, “Dadddd” she complained, pulling out the last letter to announce her annoyance to the world.

“Annieeee” Matty teased back in the same tone as her, picking her up as he did.

“Can we go home now? I want to see mayhem!!” she said, excitedly clapping her hands as she finished.

You shoot Matty a questioning look, and he quickly answers your silent query, “the horse dog” he says teasingly, parroting your earlier words back at you.

“Okay darling, let's get going then,” Matty says with a grunt, putting Annie down, grabbing her hand, and taking her backpack from her.

“Say bye to miss y/n Annie,” he says, smiling sweetly at you, but you can see the mischief brewing in his eyes.

His eyes keep your attention so long you almost miss Annie's sweet goodbye, “bye miss y/n! See you tomorrow! Can we talk about your sparkly clips tomorrow?” she asks with a tilt of her head.

“Of course, little miss Annie!” You say smiling at the young girl. You focus solely on her in an attempt not to get lost in her father's eyes again.

You watch them walk away but after a few steps they pause, Matty turns over his shoulder and waves with his free hand, “Bye miss y/n” he says with a teasing lilt to his voice and a flirty wink.

Before you can even process what just happened, he's strolling away casually, and all the mums in the playground are silently lusting after him.

A heavy breath leaves your chest as you start to watch him leave.

“Isn't he gorgeous” a voice behind you whispers, causing you to jump and let out a small scream. You hold a hand to your chest and look at your colleague with wild eyes.

“Oh my god, Amanda, please do not sneak up on me like that! I'm fragile” you say, now laughing at your ridiculous reaction.

“Sorry, sorry,” she begins giggling, “but isn't he just so hot? Annie was in my class last year, and I used to count down the days until parent’s evening! I mean, who wouldn't want to sit across a desk from a man who looks like that?” Amanda says, wiggling her eyebrows flirtatiously.

She begins to teasingly poke your sides at your awkward silence, and you quickly brush her off and straighten up, “Amanda! You can't talk like that about a parent!” You say, trying and failing to have any conviction in your voice.

“I can when the parent looks like that!” she says, smiling and watching Matty stroll away.

You huff at her behaviour and walk away, desperate to sit down and process what just happened.

—----------------------------------------------------------------------------

Your desk chair squeaks as you sit down behind your desk. You spin the chair and pick up a pen to begin marking some spelling tests from last week, but before long, you give up.

Staring off into space with endless thoughts poisoning your mind, only one thing can come out of your mouth. 

“fuck."

[winters-rose-daughterofcain]

While I'm at it both Colin and Pen are so brave and trusting of each other this season and it's a huge reason why the pacing works for me. This post from @dollypopup goes into detail about the kiss and the bravery it took for Penelope to ask and how important and meaningful it is for her ark (in a far better way than I can), but I think it can translate thought out a lot of what they both do. (Elaborating on this post.)

So much of their relationship is driven by an active want to continue, grow and improve it. They start talking again because Colin notices she's upset and makes the effort to follow her and see what's wrong, they make up after last season because, once again Colin makes the active choice to visit her, apologise, and agree to help her with what she wants. Because there is a baseline there, there is trust and friendship and respect already established from years of knowing each other and the last two seasons. He already values her and cares for her and so makes an effort to maintain their relationship. She trusts him and loves him and knows him well enough to see past this new act, and she accepts his help and apology readily.

Then their lessons happen because they make the effort the seek each other out, Colin actually listens to her about her insecurity and comfort and ranges for them to practise at the Bridgerton house because it was a safe, calm, stress free environment. And it worked, she opened up (as much as she ever dose lol) because he knows her already and she is comfortable enough around him to let her guard down and even let some of her true feelings out, even if unintentionally.

The kiss has already been discussed and said much better than I ever could lol, but it really really is so important. It's not chance or coincidence or force that kickstarts their relationship it's Pen. At one of her lowest moments It's Pen and her choice and her love and her trust and bravery in that moment to ask Colin what she wants and be open and vulnerable in a way she almost never allows herself to be, in a way woman as a whole are punished and looked down on and seen as lesser for doing (clearly, as seen by peoples reactions.) And she is reworded for her bravery by a beautiful, tender, blissful kiss. She wanted to be loved even for a moment and she so aching obviously was.

Then after that they take a break from each other for a little at least in the sense of spending time together, but they continue thinking about each other they entire time.

And in the end, even if it took some help from Violet, it's Colin's actions that lead to that ending. It's hope and bravery and love and desperation that led him storming into that ball half way through and interrupting dances and chasing carriages. It's bravery and vulnerability and trust in Pen, who has always been there for him, always been constant, always been patient and kind and steady, as well as love, that leads to him being able to give a confession like that and her feeling everything in equal parts for him that allows her to actually confess her feeling for him for the first time in the entire show.

Obviously all stories are driven by characters making choices, and outside influence definitely played a role in theirs, but so much of it was them both trusting each other and being brave enough to take a leap of faith and hope to be caught, and they always are. We (I) joke that they're stupid in love and down bad and absolutely unhinged feel loser behaviour abounds, because it's funny and true. But at the heart of it is so much care and unsaid words and bravery that in the end proves worth it because of who they are to each other and how much love is there.

[zukotheartist]

LONG tbosas (book, mostly) post ahead, about Reaper Ash specifically

A lot of people, rightfully, point out when Reaper cuts Panem's flag and throws it on the dead kids but something that gets to me as well (that I think is a really nice touch and should be talked about more) is his other uses of the flag (in the book, anyway).

The first time he cuts the flag, it's to bargain with Lamina.

Yes, he's doing it for himself because his mentor* won't send him food (or water) unless he puts on a good show (aka killing or at least attacking another tribute), which he isn't doing, and it's been days so he needs to eat (if I remember correctly, he had been able to get a few of Lucy Gray/Jessup's extra/leftover water bottles). But he was strong and big enough to hunt down another tribute and then steal their food. Not Lamina, probably, I don't think a big guy would be able to climb a pole that well? (I feel like that'd be easier for a smaller-skinnier person like Coral but idk, i dont climb lol). Regardless, he couldve hunted any of the tributes that were on the ground.

Instead, he notices that Lamina is heavily sunburned (enough for the skin on her nose to be chipping away) and tells her that he'll get her a blanket (piece of flag) to cover herself with, in exchange for some food.

Then he cuts another piece of the flag to cover his dead peers (and ofc that's the main use of it and the most important one).

But then he also cuts a piece of the flag... for HIMSELF. Not to use as a shield from the sun or to wrap a wound or any other "logical" or "useful" reason.

He drapes the cloth on his back and wraps it around his neck.

He makes a CAPE.

And what does he do, right after?

He twirls around and tries to look back at the cape as he's twirling. Then he runs up and down a bit, with his arms out-stretched, letting the cape fly behind him.

And the next time we see him? He's still wearing the cape.

That moment speaks VOLUMES imo.

A lot of people have pointed out that Suzanne Collins does the complete opposite of the usual tropes placed upon black characters: the girls aren't the caretakers, they're the ones being taken care of by other characters (Katniss and Rue + Tresh and Rue + Reaper and Dill) and the boys aren't treated as agressive fully grown men ready to attack, they're depicted as kind and righteous boys who don't wanna cause harm > the way they show it with Reaper (tho we also see it with Tresh) is soo so... idk, I don't have the words for it.

Not only does he apologise, before the game starts, to all the tributes for having to kill them and also promises them that he'll fight the Capitol and avenge them, to then refusing to murder them during the game.

Not only does he respect his peer's dead bodies when he absolutely had no necessity to and would even get repercussions for doing it (cutting the flag = defying the Capitol = no chance of him winning aka surviving).

He's also shown to be just a kid himself.

He's in an awful situation and trying to stay kind and safe and what's a little something that he does for Himself (the ONE thing he does for himself, basically his entire time in the arena he's doing things for others, even when the thing is just refusing to murder) to cheer up? He makes himself a makeshift cape and runs and twirls around a bit.

i have... so many feelings and thoughts on his character... Suzanne Collins' pen is definition of on fire. That's all.

*btw, something that also makes me incredibly sad is how he's taking care of everyone/not harming anyone but his own mentor still won't send him food or water :( and it's especially sad when you remember that Clemensia was one of the only mentors and Capitol people shown to be Actually against the Hunger Games, at first.

She wasn't bored by them (like it can be said for Festus or Arachne) and she wasn't simply disgusted from a gore/imagery perspective (like Snow and Livia too, if I remember well).

She was actually disgusted at them from a human perspective (not nearly as much as Sejanus but still) and even asked if "the Districts hadn't suffered enough" and "why couldn't they stop now that the war was over". Meaning, she was probably gonna be a good mentor (or as good as a mentor can be) before the snakes bit her and messed her up... it's all one big tragedy🥲

EDIT: wait, she Does send food by the end! But the point stands because she sends it after she's healed more and her brain's clearer.

[writerslittlelibrary]

Hey could I request a kate x autistic sibling where r struggles with social cues and Kate is protective of them?

Get your hands off my sister, drabble

masterlist requests masterlist

pairing: Kate x autistic sister reader 

warnings: a guy hitting on reader

genre: fluff

words: 850

a/n: this request stirred something in my head I didn’t know I had. I’ve never written for Kate before but now I’m entirely obsessed with this dynamic! (I generally don’t struggle with picking up social cues, so I tried my best with writing this and I apologise if something isn’t entirely accurate:))

(if your name is Brad, I apologise in advance lol)

(more fics are coming lovelies I promise)

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

 |——————————— ⴵ ———————————|

Kate had been your big protector ever since you had joined the family. Being your big sister she had always felt a need to protect you, and when you were diagnosed with autism that feeling only grew. Kate was the person you always stuck close to. You’d be by her side when you had started school, and she had protected you and kept you safe.

When you grew older, and boys started liking you, you were oblivious. They’d talk to you, telling you you were pretty and complimenting your outfits. You never picked up on their intentions, merely smiling and thanking them.

When you got even older, Kate started dragging you to parties and such. You had never liked parties. They were too loud in you opinion, with too many people. 

Because of that, you didn’t go with Kate often, staying at home and reading in the comfort of your room. However, this time was different. Kate had told you about a house party that some of her college friends were giving. She had assured you that it wouldn’t be too many people, and that it would be a good party to get out of the house without stepping out of your comfort zone too far. 

And so, you had agreed, going with Kate to the college party.

When you stepped into the house, you had immediately felt easy. The music wasn’t too loud, and the people present weren’t swarmed around each other like a horde of bees. Unbeknownst to you it was Kate who had made sure of that. 

When you entered, Kate had stuck closely by your side, promising you that if you wanted to leave all you had to do was tell her.

After being at the party for about an hour, you had found you were quite enjoying yourself. The people there were nice, and there wasn’t even one person that was drunk. You had even told Kate you would go and get a drink by yourself, so that she could stay and chat with her friends. 

She had agreed and asked you to bring her a drink as well. 

However, when you got to the kitching and poured your drinks, you were approached by a guy you hadn’t seen earlier that evening. He smiled as he approached you, asking if you could pour him a drink as well. 

You happily did so, nodding your head and pouring him a drink. He took it with a grateful smile, and you figured that was when he would leave. He didn’t. 

He stuck close to you and started asking you questions. 

“I’ve never seen you at one of these parties before, are you new?” 

You shook your head. “My sister, Kate, goes to these parties often. This time she asked me to join her.” 

The guy nodded, looking you up and down once or twice. “You’re very beautiful,” he told you.

You smiled. “Thank you.” 

The guy nodded, taking a step closer to you. 

“How about we get out of here?” he asked, getting a confused look in return. 

“I can’t leave without my sister. She is the one who drove us here,” you explained. 

The guy shook his head, laughing slightly, thinking you were just teasing him. 

“How about we go upstairs, find an empty room,” he suggested. 

“Then we would be alone? The party is down here…?” you replied confused.

“We wouldn’t be alone, we’d be together,” the guy continued, getting slightly irritated. 

“I don’t know you. Besides, we wouldn’t be able to hear the music upstairs,” you reasoned. 

By now, the guy was getting frustrated, grabbing your arm and putting his drink down.

“Are you fucking stupid?! I’m inviting you to come upstairs with me, how hard is that to understand!?” he yelled at you. 

You looked shocked at him, shrinking away into yourself as he yelled at you. 

“Get your hands off my sister, Brad!” you suddenly heard Kate yell. She must’ve come to look for you when you didn’t return with the drinks. 

“Relax Kate, nothing was happening. That freak sister of yours is so goddamn stupid, doesn’t understand a thing-” the guy, Brad, started, before he was rightfully interrupted by a fist to the jaw. 

Kate had punched him. 

After he fell to the ground, cradling his face in his hands, Kate had taken your arm, leading you back to the car. 

“I’m sorry I left you alone, are you alright?” Kate asked after you two were settled in the car.

You nodded, slightly offended at the way that guy had spoken about you. 

“What did he mean?” you asked Kate, who simply shrugged.

“It doesn’t matter. How about ice cream?” she asked, starting the car.

You nodded excitedly, reaching for the radio and putting on a song, humming along the lyrics as the car started driving.

Kate glanced over at you once or twice, glad she had gotten there in time. She may not always be there to protect you, but as long as she could, she would happily punch the living hell out of every person that tried insulting you.

Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @daddipantherr @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @iheartjohansson @tia-thesimp @swaqcenix @karmasgxrl @marvel-lous3000 @hor1zond1ar1es @lorsstar1st @superlegend216 @ravensinthedaylight

[liquorisce]

Do you have any eremika age gap au recs?? It’s my favorite trope and there’s nearly not enough fics out there😭😭😭

*rubs hands* I took my time with this because I am not the most avid fic reader unfortunately, but I do have a few recs and some more on my tbr. I think what you're looking for is not just an age difference but where the age gap is the focus? i've marked those in pink. definitely check the tags on these before proceeding!!

gonna start with mine just for completeness, and also because i love it *blush*

boy next door: For sixteen years, Mikasa has watched the boy next door. First: through the eyes of a child, hand in his during family trips, his hand on her first bike when she learned how to ride. Then: through the eyes of a teenager, peeking behind her blinds into his room on hot summer months when he didn't wear a shirt, eyes lingering on his lips when he pulled away his cigarette. Now, she is so much older, but he is older still, and the gap between them feels ever widening. But her desire to close it only feels more desperate.

i'm certain you've checked out @herblacktights 's ao3, but here are my favs of hers with that age gap sauce:

degausser: After a deadly flu pandemic that devastates Paradis Island and the rest of the world, Eren is all Mikasa has. After she turns sixteen, that gets complicated. -> the plot is entirely the age gap, lol!

comfort me: “Mikasa,” Eren drawled, fake scolding edging into his voice as he held the basement door open and led her outside. “Does Aunt Carla know what a bad girl you are?” For a moment, she looked stunned. A sliver of a second, a wink of an eye. Looking every inch the little girl he watched grow up, who he knew deserved better than him. But before it could take root in her and make him regret what he said, Mikasa gave him a terrible, sweet smile. “Aunt Carla says I deserve to do whatever I want after the year I’ve had,” she said and from the way that she was looking at him, he should’ve known it was a threat. cw: mild daddy kink!

love dog : this one is a bit different! teacher mikasa x student eren, and mikasa is the older one. cw: it doesn't exactly have a super happy ending. but it is one of my favs from hannah!!

Butterfly effect by @sunlightandsuffering : Sugar baby AU - older hobo eren x younger mikasa. how can i say this... it's the OG, the most delicious, lys-brand chaotic eremika but age gap flavour! i love it, i'm sure if you've been around this block you've read it lol, but it's simply amazing, read it again!!

You, me and our sins by @loneghostss : Eren is married and Mikasa has a boyfriend. But the fact that they both have someone doesn't stop them from sinfully falling in love with each other. (it is about eremika having an affair with each other and it is so sensual and hot, age gap is not central here but it definitely brings heat!!) you could also check out lost saints by the same author, there's also some age difference and great smut.

@dead-dolphins is a connoisseur of the age gap trope, defs check out all the aus on her pinned post!! ro is a master of drama and worldbuilding so her fics are always a treat. she's got some on ao3 that are all about that sweet age gap <3

chemical hype boy : idol mikasa x actor eren!! and eren is definitely playing into the older established actor mold!

i apologise if you feel something: Goth mikasa gets involved with older Eren, lead vocalist of a metal band.

the promised princess: a medieval fantasy au inspired by got. age difference is not the central theme, but it's a stellar fic regardless.

straight/edge by @sinigangsta-ao3: Mikasa Ackerman is prim, proper, and perfect. As the golden child of the Ackerman family, her academic achievements set her up for a bright future and atone for her older brother’s past mistakes. When the spring semester of her junior year arrives, she crosses paths with a local boy toward whom she’d typically never give the time of day — and they begin a whirlwind relationship that unlocks parts of herself that she didn’t know she kept hidden. this fic is more about the good girl x bad boy trope but with that delicious 3-4 year age gap sauce!! cw: NOT a hea

devilish lovers by softwinter: “I wanna be your friend, Mikasa,” he told her one day when she got home from school not able to feign a less distressed expression on her face, too many sixteen-year-old problems going on in her life. He had the habit of commenting that she was always sad, that he didn’t like how that transpired on her gray eyes.

“I thought you wanted to be my daddy,” something flashed in his eyes right then, like she’d said something forbidden, a kind of thing that could make her a bad girl in his eyes. cw: step dad kink!! definitely check the tags before proceeding.

heaven knows by @joannaofarkham: priest au where priest eren is mikasa's teacher in a catholic school. it is unfinished but the first chapter reads pretty well standalone!

eternally yours by @cxcassii: reincarnation au + age gap. It's been 2,000 years since Eren Jaeger was a titan shifter and unleashed the blood drenched madness of the rumbling upon the world. Now, in the year 2023, he's a twenty-four year old who lives with his best friend Armin. He goes about his days working as a pharmacy technician all while attempting to cope and come to terms with the loss of the loved ones he still remembers with clarity from his previous life. The atrocious sins of his past life he can never ever truly atone for. But most of all, there's one person he simply can't forget: His former love of his life, Mikasa. It's when he's not actively searching for her that they cross paths once again, and their love will once again be on trial when Eren learns that Mikasa not only doesn't remember their past life together, but is also seventeen years old. this one is still on my tbr but whatever i've read so far looks extremely delicious!!!

enjoy!! if anyone wants to add more please feel free to reblog and improve this list!! <3

[aphrodeiities]

i've returned to post about a particular subject i've been fighting to or not to post, because i used to consider this person the closest person in my life and i even considered her as a best friend and a sister.

and we have fallen out and apologised to each other many times, but perhaps whenever we argued it was life telling me that she is not supposed to be in my circle. and you could be wondering why am i bringing this up and telling tumblr this but im telling tumblr this to be aware of @couerardent and her scamming behaviour.

couerardent also known as MYSTIICWINTER OR MYSTICWIINTER.

talk about WORSE SERVICE I HAVE EVER GOTTEN MY ENTIRE LIFE.

[other people have come to me and spoke about how bad her services were, but i tried to overlook it because i really cared for her, lessoned learn]

i have always been empathetic towards ardent and her money situation, but there are moments when excuses turn into reasons to not do something. on august, i sent alex money because she needed it, but she also said in return she will give me 4 packs she usually gives her clients and she told me she would give me my money back.

first pack is "tell me your story."

second and other packs she hadnt told me what they were but she informed me that i'll be receiving them weekly since august, and now its november.

at first i was empathetic, since i used to be close to ardent, i knew she went through a lot of stuff at home, so i was patient. until august turned into september, and september turned into october and then october turned into novemeber.

and slowly i became annoyed, [as i should] because her services arent even long or good, as someone who gives chart readings to other people that consists more than fourteen pages, the effort to write that would take long, but ardent doesnt even give five pages for her services, three at most, so why is it taking her so long?

previously, she has joked to me about scamming other people, but would put the blame on them and not want to take accountability until they start using threats to expose her, i think she deleted the making fun of scamming them but here is some of it:

and when i would message her for updates about my reading because it'll take months, she would ignore me and even change her pfp on tumblr or discord, until i reach out to her on more platforms to get her attention.

and what would annoy me even more is that she would talk about how she never has something to do or would focus on other stuff knowing she needs to get my reading done lmao and this would be like 1-2 months after i was supposed to receive any of it lol.

worrying about the layout for almost 3 months PLEASE.

i have received 1/4 readings, and that was now almost 2-3 weeks ago, we should've been on my 2nd or 3rd reading by now, the only reason i have received 1 reading is because i did threaten to expose her if she didnt send the money or reading my way, because even i had some issues because living in london has gotten really difficult and i have been trying to support my family as much as i can, but im doing better right now.

its all about the principle. and she has none of that. and even attempted to victimise herself and behave like she was in distress whenever she got called out about her behaviour.

she lost track of time, the time being 3-4 months lol.

and when i was speaking to her she ignored me for a bit again ha, it was almost comedic. for almost two weeks she didnt try and check what i was speaking about.

she has gotten ill, but this was still months after.

and i have remembered, she has used much of her earned money to fund for her nose job but also uni, but during the moments it was best to pay me back was at the job she said paid her well, she informed me that when she gets paid by her job she'll pay me back, and she never did and ended up quitting the job.

[the unfairness i was speaking about is how uni her country dont do student finances, she's from romania, because they do in the uk it was just a surprise].

i asked her recently on how i was supposed to receive a reading but she didnt reply but change her pfp on whatsapp and discord, again.

if there is any confused people comment please because i did this half asleep lmao

[manonblaqkbeak]

Apartment Disaster

Hello, me again, here for Day 9 - Meet Ugly. I know it's Day 16 right now, but this idea popped up in my head the other day and wouldn't leave me alone, so I apologise for being a pain lol.

@rowaelinscourt

cw: a smidgen of angst and mentions of death.

sorry for any grammar errors as always lol.

word count: 1100+

hope you all enjoy and have a great day xx

Aelin was in the elevator with the movers for the fourth time when she happened to come across a tall, muscled, tattooed, silver haired man in her new apartment.

She was exhausted from the move that wasn't entirely finished yet, but all her tiredness disappeared at the sight of the stranger.

Because not only was he standing in the middle of her new home; surrounding him were unopened boxes, a rolling suitcase and a large duffle bag strapped across his broad body.

“Who are you, and what are you doing in my apartment?” Aelin asked, caution but annoyance lacing her tone.

The stranger turned around—and Mala burn her, if he wasn't the most attractive man she had ever seen if it wasn't for the anger clouding his pine green eyes.

“My name is Rowan,” he said, his accent lovely and rich, despite the aggression rolling from it. “And this is my apartment. So who the hell are you?”

Aelin straightened at his tone, at the anger in his eyes. And she was confused as hell. “My name is Aelin, and you must be wrong, because this is my apartment. You have the wrong place.” It was a new complex, the building had only been completed a couple of months ago, and when she had taken her new job in Varese, she had been told to make her apartment selection quickly as they were all selling fast.

“I don't think so,” Rowan said—whoever the hell this Rowan person was. He dropped the box in his arms, rifled through his duffle bag and shoved a copied version of his lease. Aelin's eyes dropped down to the most important part, the section that said that Rowan Whitethorn was leasing apartment 4A—her apartment—for three years. The address was correct, the number of rooms (two, and one bathroom) with a balcony, was correct.

Aelin looked it over again and again, looked over her own lease copy and still found no error in writing.

What in the actual hell was happening? There was no way she was giving up this apartment, and the look on Rowan Whitethorn's face said the exact same thing.

She wanted to punch him in his stupid face.

And she wanted to punch the movers in their faces when they finally piped up and asked if they were going to complete their job or just stand around all day.

Aelin told them that they could go on their breaks and all but dragged Rowan and their leases down to the manager's office.

X X X X

Aelin truly couldn't believe it. There was an error, but not of her or Rowan's making. They were renting the same apartment because of an error. Rowan was meant to take apartment 4B, not 4A, but somewhere along the line, without anyone noticing, the office had leased the same apartment to two complete strangers.

What made it worse was that apartment 4B was already occupied—all of the apartments in the complex were occupied. There were no availabilities left in the entire city, either, and while Aelin absolutely hated the idea of doing it, she couldn't force Rowan on the streets when the office had made the mistake.

So Aelin was going to live with a stranger.

A stranger that didn't look pleased about that fact—but at least he had gotten their rent reduced due to offices colossal fuck up.

And he had gotten them to lower the cost on the apartment storage where right now, most of their things were sitting in, due to the fact that there wasn't enough room for all of their possessions.

In the middle of the living room, Aelin looked at Rowan, and Rowan looked at Aelin.

She couldn't believe she was about to live with a stranger.

“I know self-defence, and my great-uncle is a lawyer, so if you try anything, I will not hesitate to fuck you up,” Aelin said eventually.

Rowan just crossed his arms. “And if you try anything against me, I'll let my great-aunt, Maeve Whitethorn, know all about it.”

Aelin couldn't believe it, Maeve Whitethorn, the governor of Doranelle, was his aunt.

“Why can't you live with her?”

Rowan rolled his eyes. “Because my job is in Varese, obviously, which is why I'm here.”

Silence wrapped around them, and they kept staring at one another.

“What is your job?” Aelin asked eventually.

“Dietitian. Yours?”

Oh, that was great. He'd probably pick apart everything she was going to eat in the time they lived together—which was going to be until an apartment was vacant in the complex. The minute she would take a bite of a chocolate bar he would be all over her, telling her how bad it was.

“Editor in publishing. I'm in a hybrid role, too, so some days I'll be working from home.”

Rowan nodded. “Age?”

“Twenty-seven.”

“Thirty-one. Any partners?”

“No. Do you have any dietary restrictions? Because I don't like fish. Can't stand the smell of it.”

“I don't have a partner, either,” he said. “And as for the fish, I do eat it often, but I'll cook it on the balcony with the portable barbeque that I have.”

“Thank you,” she said, and once more, silence found them.

Aelin didn't feel like standing around all day, getting to know her new house mate, but she was exhausted, the effects of today starting to get to her. Right now, all she wanted to do was to have a shower, order some take away and lie down in her bed.

“Let's just get one thing straight,” Aelin started, “I'm not a maid, so I'm not going to clean up after you. You make a mess, you clean it. When you use the toilet, aim correctly and if you get any piss on the floor, you clean it and you put the toilet seat down. And I'm not going to hide my pads and tampons, so if you have an issue with that, I suggest you grow up and get over it.”

“I'm not a child,” Rowan said, affronted.

“You would be surprised how many men your age act like one.”

Rowan snorted, and she supposed that he was his own way of agreeing. “I'm going to get some of my things out of storage.” He turned around and left without another word and Aelin was left alone in the middle of her new apartment, in a new city, starting a new life.

She had wanted a fresh start after the death of her parents last year, but it seemed that she couldn't have a drama free life if this is what happened to her.

Aelin finally left the living room and had her shower.

X X X X

Rowan pretended that he couldn't hear her crying as he brought his items up from storage.

All he wanted was a fresh start after the death of his wife and unborn child, but he supposed that this was the gods way of punishing him as he wasn't there with Lyria when she died.

Rowan sighed, and dragged his boxed mattress and bed into his room, doing his best to get used to his new reality.

But telling himself to get used to it was a lot easier said than done.

Rowan sighed again, and got to work.