#the idea of buying an annotated book to Look like YOU did the annotations is so funny to me. what are you trying to prove 💀

[jahnavisurenda-21]

Hazbin Hotel||Alastor X Reader||It's okay To Rest

Just realized with all me getting accepted into school and all, caused me to stress about not disappointing my parents, relatives So it's okay to take it easy.

Usually, Alastor would see you socializing either the other people like Charlie, Vaggie, Angel, Husk and all during your days in hell, but this time he began noticing you, becoming more and more reclined towards your room.

Your room probably was the most comforting one in the entire hotel, All the books Alastor would bring you would be piled, or decorated in the bookshelves, the fairy lights casted a warm and inviting glow to your reader's heart, you had a dressing table and next to it were satin nightgowns, shrugs lined on a rack, Alastor found you whimsical and enchanting, like he was just allowed for just a moment to see the world you saw.

Your worktable, which used to be a few scraps of paper and loose sheets now was filled with random annotations, and question marks, diaries were tossed in one corner, and then a sewing kit was tossed in the other, it was really unlike you to just toss your things around.

Alastor knew you loved to eat, the different types of cookbooks he owned and recipes he learned through radio broadcasts you would always love them, it was one of his most obvious love languages, Now Alastor brought you some well cooked dinner, lunch paired with a desert to cheer you up, but these past few months in hell he has seen you getting more exhausted, he would find you sleeping on your desk, you sometimes complained of a back pain.

Alastor thought of making you some more tapes of his voice, maybe like a little reminder for you to just rest and take care of your health, you were not a soul, you were a human, and he knew this wasn't going to get you anywhere.

Alastor had a fair idea of the things you liked, Books, Rain, Tea, but this time he had actually visited the cannibal town one of the pleasant places in hell, because it was miraculously neat, decent, and came with a lot of things like books, recipe books, candles, and were selling really nice bath items, as a surprise he brought them over for you, he wanted to run you a nice bath so you could unwind.

"My dear, all this work is not good for you, come on now I have a little surprise for you, which should lighten your mood a little." "I'll just write this page and--" "What if after just a bit of unwinding you might have a clearer idea of what should go into the paper."

You gave that thought a go, and your glad you did, because Alastor had prepared the most beautiful bath you could've expected, the room had an earthy and relaxing scent waffling through it, and a warm bath which had candles casting a warm glow over the room, the water was warm and soothing, you felt a wave of gratitude towards Alastor, he really did notice the small offs in you, it made you feel cared for and seen.

You felt your tense muscles relax against the warm bath, and your endless inner dialogue nagging you to write this or write this was coming to a comforting standstill and just like those two hours had passed by.

When you returned back to your room, it felt fresh, Alastor had sprayed some room freshener it smelled like fresh apples, somewhat even husky, the desk had been cleaned you notice new shelves carrying proud parchment papers, quills, pens, pencils with new decor, you sighed sitting on your bed feeling like a weight had been lifted from your shoulders and you could finally relax.

Alastor handed you another book, well it was a journal it had a dark green color, it looked neatly wrapped and had a little black ribbon which you could use to tie around the journal, you were a little shocked and pleasantly surprised by how the evening had been turning out,

"I noticed you have a lot of Journals, and I remember you talking to Charlie about how you would buy a new one."

"Alastor... This whole evening, I don't know what to say, except thank you."

"Eat your meals on time dear, don't overwork yourself, and sleep on time."

You nodded feeling really glad, that even in a place like hell, you had someone so warm and caring and that makes you happy even in hell.

[haneulislearning]

2024년 한국어 목표; Korean Language Goals

With my study abroad date coming closer and closer (only 19 days away ㅇ.ㅇ), I figured it was time to share some of my language/Korean specific goals for the year!

These aren't all of the things I want to "accomplish" for the year, and some are long-term while others are short-term goals, but it felt better to have something physical to look at to remind me of what I am aiming to do this year and have my thoughts organized.

The hardest thing about this is reminding myself (Hi, if you don't know me, I fear academic failure and set high expectations for myself), that it will be okay if I do these things only partially or if something didn't quite meet my expectations that it is okay.

There are some things that I want to aim for as a personal milestone that I didn't list here in an attempt to NOT overwhelm myself to get it done.

(Like trying to read Harry Potter in Korean, because 1. I am NOT at that level yet, and that will take quite the time to go through and 2. I want to buy the book second hand because JK Rowling is a bitch and I don't know yet where I could thrift the book while in Korea. Mostly want to read it because it is a book that I read over and over again as a child so the concepts/ideas/plot is familiar, just not the nuanced vocabulary and grammar)

So I am viewing this less so as a list of things to do before the year ends, and more as a set of remiders, affirmations, and sources for me to review throughout the year as I am abroad and expanding my use and knowledge of Korean.

There is so much to say about my goals and views of langauge learning, but I don't want to make this my longest post ever, so maybe some other day I will share some of my more abstract goals in another post.

Anyways, enough rambling, here's what is listed in my journal:

Listen to Korean podcasts

Become comfrotable reading short stories + news articles

Journal more often in Korean

Annotate + break down THREE songs in Korean (*not in my journal, but the goal is to understand, memorize, and practice reading speed and listening with this)

Read + annotate one book in Korean

Try learning AT LEAST 10 new words a week (*I see this one either not lasting long or turning more into 10 words every OTHER week lol)

Review each month what you've learned (*just trying to go back and refresh myself on things that I learned recently but may not have had the chance to put into practical use often)

Other notes:

Use your resoruces! I have so many Korean books and websites/apps saved, and I will use them for about a week before I forget they exist, so this is my reminder to look at them a little more often!

If you know how to say it, say it! Don't hesitate! The amount of times my friends and I have decided to speak in Korean to each other only to say something in English and then quickly realize we 100% know how to say that in AT LEAST broken Korean :/. Or when my professor would ask us to share what we did this weekend in Korean and think that my sentence or phrase is wrong, only for someone else to say something similar and realize I actually knew how to say it. Better to try and maybe be wrong and get corrected than to not try at all and learn nothing.

Keep it simple, but try to build your sentences! Actually a reminder from my Korean professor lol! If you don't know how to say it, look it up of course, but you can't pull out your phone in every conversation you have! Sometimes it is easier to keep it simple and short and others it's great to build on and connect where you can. The whole point of my last class was to work on using connectors and conjuctions for our sentences to lengthen them, but it's not always possible. Some days it is just easier to say 네 or 아 그래요 and move on if you know what I mean.

Any progress is good! There have been multiple times this year where I have literally gone to Korean tutoring and forgotten every Korean word I know and beat myself up over the fact that I feel like I "failed". Simply put, I burn out too quickly sometimes and take the minor victories for granted. Celebrate anytime you can when it comes to remembering a small vocab word or how to order food in Korean!

Consistency is Key! Seems obvious, but one summer in between semesters I didn't study Korean for at least a month and wanted to cry when I tried to self study again before the new semester because that sense of failure was kicking in and I couldn't remember a lot of what I had been practicing. Even if it is just reviewing vocab, watching a youtube video in Korean, or even a K-drama, consistency is key when it comes to learning. It doesn't have to be a lot, just something.

Explore ways to learn, make it fun for you! I have only been learning Korean for almost 2 years now, and now that I am going abroad I'm realizing that I will be in much more different situations in terms of school and socializing, so how I experience Korean is going to be different for a little while. This is just a reminder to take advantage of fun opportunities and see where and when you can learn Korean.

You're probably doing better than you think you are. Don't stress. I feel like nothing needs to be said here, but if you look at where you started versus where you are now I am sure the distance is actually farther than it seems.

[emmafallsinlove]

sometimes i’m thinking about that one (1) scene in s6 when emily and richard searching inside the pool’s house to see if rory is hiding something and i’m thinking about how uncomfortable richard felt about doing so because he respected his granddaughter privacy unlike emily but also. how he does comes back to the pool house a few days later not because he thinks rory is hiding something, because he wanna buy her a special book to her 21th birthday, something she doesn’t owns yet, maybe exclusive edition to some of her books, something that would make her start reading again. and he picks one of her books when he noticed a paper cut off from a notebook falls on the floor. he picks it up, confused, when he see it’s a pro con list about yale vs harvard. and while yale side was mostly bigger and longer, the first thing rory wrote on the pro side is a name. jess. richard is honestly confused because he never knew any jess, and he had no idea if it’s one of rory’s friends that he doesn’t know about, but he puts the paper inside the book and puts it book on the shelf exactly when rory comes back from whatever the hell she’s being and he’s just. stands there and they look at each other and he’s all like “i, um, wanna see what book you’ve got so i could buy you the one you don’t have as a birthday present” and she’s all smiles softly at him, not angry at all because she’s barely sees him, and it’s her grandpa and she misses him even if they living in the same house. “okay.” she says, and before she can stop herself she says, “you know - a friend of mine um, he used to write in the margins and, i don’t know, i think i lost my copy of the ‘howl’ and it has some of his annotations in it and when i moved in i lost my copy and -“ and richard looks at her and goes: “okay.” and he did, in fact, bought it for her again.

[shadeslayer]

Would you be willing to talk about the inspiration for you sinti, shunti, kanunuk, & nunni designs? They're really cool!

absolutely !!! :D i usually have pretty explicit stuff that im referencing or am inspired by so im always happy to share <3

*ramble incoming*

[the dr pepper cans are how you know im a real southern usa babe. earlier today there was 5 empty cans in a row until i put them in the recycle bin]

i take a Lot out of the book "sun circles and human hands: the southeastern indians - art and industry" (2001 edition, not the 1957 one) which i have a physical copy of and i have sticky notes tabbing out out and also annotated highlighting every mention of the chickasaw and of sites where i know the chickasaw [or our ancestors, like the chicaza and other early mississippian/SE ntv cultures] so i can reference stuff i know would be from us, but i also take inspiration from all the designs in it because we were all a part of an interconnected cultural network of art

if you are from a tribe that would be from mississippian culture or the southeastern ceremonial complex/southeastern cult as it used to be called, or you know your people wouldve come from places within that like spiro or moundville, and you want to bring more native styling into your art this is THEEE book i would recommend. it is insanely useful. i cant vouch 100% for the text of it, and the second half is mostly kinda grainy b&w scanned photos of pottery and other items lmao, but the first half has lineart depictions OF designs found, with the attribution for the site they were found at. it is a Massive wealth of symbols and style and has been the best thing for wanting to study and emulate SE ndn art. for real i lent a copy to my grandma and then couldnt find where it was and i had to just order a new copy bc i use it so damn much

like i would post pages of it, and before i bought it i survived off the pinterest pics of scanned pages, but i cannot say enough just buy the book and look through it bc its just perfect its so useful. just posting a few pages doesnt do any justice to the wealth of style and art in it. ive tried to make myself some mock style/symbol guides from it, but even those fail to capture the variety of stuff in there and its why i still have it on hand for reference bc every time i get stumped theres so many ideas in there

but ok . book rec rant over (partly.)

i had done sinti homma, the red snake earlier, and i wanted to do a little motley of other simple transparent animals to go with it. so i did! ive got a few different animals that i played with doing, but a lot of them ended up veering too much off of the more hardline ntv style i wanted to do, and the others didnt fit the guideline i had made - i wanted them all to have a pointed tail that pointed to some corner of the frame, and curl around in the square a bit to have more of a sense of motion. i was thinking deer, turtle, spider... but none of those really fit that. so i flipped thru SC&HH for some ideas and came up with some :3

the bottom left one on the first pic there gave me a good idea of what to do with a rat tail, and on the bottom right of that same pic is the Fattest fucking fish and i lifted a lot of that design to use for my fish (and while we're here, the rattler tails on the top right of that pic were what i used for sinti hommas tail), and the bottom left on the second pic gave me the idea for the lizards legs/feet shape, and then i used the chickasaw vocab flashcards of animals to think of animal ideas and so i used the pinti from there to jump me off into doing a rat

theyre all named after the chickasaw words - sinti (snake), shunti (rat/rodent), kanunuk (lizard, specifically green striped lizard, which is why i made it green with stripes lol), nunni (fish) . i use the chickasaw dictionary webpage a lot these days though i should use my dictionary copies more bc they use the spelling style i dont prefer lol

i also want to do maybe a sort of pop art style big print of them, like repeated with different colors behind them? and/or them in a medicine wheel? but those are still wip so we shall see!

[airellesinhaze]

2

Exhibition dates: 26th June – 27th October 2019 Visited September 2019 posted September 2020

Curators: Matthieu Rivallin and Pia Viewing

André Kertész (Hungarian, 1894-1985) Nageur sous l’eau, Esztergom Underwater swimmer, Esztergom 1918 Contact original

“”… especially haptic qualities are demanded of the deconstructionist performer, spectator, and reader; not to follow optically the ‘line of ideas’ in the text or in a picture and see only the representation proper, the surface, but to probe with the eyes the pictorial texture and even to enter the texture.”69 Such “touching” with the eye did not lead to a secure tactile experience of being firmly planted on the ground, for all grounds, all foundations, were suspect, however construed. We are, as Nietzsche knew, swimming in an endless sea, rather than standing on dry land. To “touch” a trace, groping blindly in the dark, is no more the guarantee of certainty than to see its residues.” Gandelman, Claude. ‘Reading Pictures, Viewing Texts’. Bloomington, Indiana, 1991, p. 140 quoted in Martin Jay. ‘Downcast Eyes: The Denigration of Vision in Twentieth-Century French Thought’. Berkley: University of California Press, 1993, p. 512.

Touching with the eye

Part 2 of a large posting on the exhibition L’equilibriste, André Kertész at Jeu de Paume, Château de Tours, which I saw in Tours in September 2019.

This posting contains photographs from his famous series “Distortions” (fascinating to see the original plates for the book of the same name, complete with cropping marks and red lead pencil annotations); American works from 1936 onwards, when Kertész moved to the United States to avoid the persecution of the Jews and the threat of World War II; and the late work colour Polaroids.

I admit that Kertész is not my favourite photographer. While I admire some of his photographs, I feel emotionally distant from most of them. Edward Clay observes in the quotation below that Kertész was “one of the most lyrical and formally inventive photographers of the twentieth-century… [His photographs] often convey a quiet mood of melancholy … He remains revered for his clarity of style and ability to blend simplicity with emotion, prizing impact over technical precision, seeking metaphors and geometry in everyday objects and scenarios, to turn the mundane into the surreal.”

Personally, I don’t find his photographs emotional nor lyrical, only a few poetic. Not melancholic, but geometric. In later works, he simplifies, simplifies, simplifies much like his friend Mondrian did. For me, the balance between sacred / geometry, the sacred geometry of the mystery of things, is often unbalanced in these images (particularly relevant, given the title of this exhibition). Is it enough just to turn the mundane into the surreal? Where does that lead the viewer? Is it enough to just observe, represent, without digging deeper.

At his best, in images such as Underwater swimmer, Esztergom (1918, above), Arm and Fan, New York (1937, below) and Washington Square, New York (1954, below) there is a structured, avant-garde mystery about the reality of the world, as re/presented through the object of the photograph, it’s physical presence. In Underwater swimmer, the body is stretched and distorted by an element, water, not a man-made mirror. His photographs from Hungary, Italy and early Paris possess a sensitivity of spirit that seems to have been excised from his life, the older he got. Far too often in later images, there is a “brittleness” to his photography, in which the object of reflection sits at the surface of the image, all sparkling in unflinching light. The single cloud oh so lonely in the sterile city; the man looking at the broken bench; the “buy, buy, buy” of consumer culture. You consumer Kertész’s later images, you do not reflect on them.

Dr Marcus Bunyan

All iPhone installation photographs © Marcus Bunyan. Please click on the photographs for a larger version of the image. View Part 1 of the posting.

“André Kertész, one of the most lyrical and formally inventive photographers of the twentieth-century, whose work advocated for spontaneity over technical precision, has left a distinctive legacy of poetic images which form a bridge between the avant-garde and geometrical precision. A roamer for much of his life, his feelings of rootlessness manifest in his work and often convey a quiet mood of melancholy. … Claiming “I am an amateur and I intend to stay that way for the rest of my life”, Kertesz was a great source of inspiration to photographic legends such as Cartier-Bresson. He remains revered for his clarity of style and ability to blend simplicity with emotion, prizing impact over technical precision, seeking metaphors and geometry in everyday objects and scenarios, to turn the mundane into the surreal. Nothing was too plain or ordinary for his eye, since he had a special ability to breathe life into even the most ‘unremarkable’ subjects.” Edward Clay. “André Kertész: between poetry and geometry,” on ‘The Independent Photographer’ website, May 19th 2020 [Online] Cited 26/08/2020

André Kertész (Hungarian, 1894-1985) Distortion #34  1933 Gelatin silver print

André Kertész (Hungarian, 1894-1985) Distortion #40 1933 Gelatin silver print

Installation views of the exhibition L’equilibriste, André Kertész at Jeu de Paume, Château de Tours showing photographs from the series Distortions, the bottom image showing at left, the photograph Underwater swimmer, Esztergom 1918 Photos: Marcus Bunyan

André Kertész (Hungarian, 1894-1985) Planches originales de la maquette du livre ‘Distortions’ (installation view) Original plates of the model of the book ‘Distortions’  1975-1976 Collection Médiathèque de l’architecture et du patrimoine Photos: Marcus Bunyan

Installation view of the exhibition L’equilibriste, André Kertész at Jeu de Paume, Château de Tours showing photographs from the series Distortions Photo: Marcus Bunyan

André Kertész (Hungarian, 1894-1985) Distortion #60 (installation view) 1933 Contact original Photo: Marcus Bunyan

André Kertész (Hungarian, 1894-1985) Distortion #86 (installation view) 1933 Contact original Photo: Marcus Bunyan

André Kertész (Hungarian, 1894-1985) Distortion #86 (installation view) 1933 Contact original Photo: Marcus Bunyan

André Kertész (Hungarian, 1894-1985) Distortion #109 (installation view) 1933 Contact original Photo: Marcus Bunyan

André Kertész (Hungarian, 1894-1985) Distortion #6 (installation view) 1933 Contact original Photo: Marcus Bunyan

André Kertész (Hungarian, 1894-1985) Distortion #159 (installation view) 1933 Contact original Photo: Marcus Bunyan

André Kertész (Hungarian, 1894-1985) Distortion #128 (installation view) 1933 Contact original Photo: Marcus Bunyan

[pricklyest]

What e reader did you buy? Do you recommend it?

I was waiting to answer this when I stopped being sick so I could maybe be coherent but at this point idk when that's going to happen so we're just going to go w it and hope this makes sense sorry

I bought a kobo clara 2e. I wanted the smallest ereader I could find that was a reasonable price and also waterproof because I like to read in the bathtub and I am not immune to dropping things in the water. have ruined more than one book that way, have also ruined a nintendo switch that way.

the kobo ecosystem is not bad in terms of ereaders if you exclusively buy your ebooks from the kobo store. the kobo store is better than the amazon ebook store imo bc it lets you download drm-free versions of your purchases without having to go through any conversions, which I don't think is true of the kindle store.

kobo also lets you upload your own epubs and pdfs to the ereader from your computer pretty easily (you can add them like you would to a flash drive or you can use something like calibre to manage your library for you). there have been a few times when I've plugged my kobo into my computer and it hasn't automatically connected so I had to disconnect and reconnect it but then it worked fine. so it can be finicky but ultimately you should be able to get it.

the software that actually opens the ebooks and that you read with is actually different based on whether it's an epub in the kobo format (the filename will end with .kepub.epub) or literally anything else. kepubs will support more features, like annotations and faster page flips and easy word lookups in dictionaries (especially useful for reading the locked tomb which is Full of vocab words). you can also actually make changes the the font type and size. whereas anything else it just displays and doesn't let you highlight, annotate, or select text text. you can zoom in on things, but that's about it.

the good news is there are a lot of tools that let you turn things into kepubs. I currently use a plugin you can get for calibre, but I'm thinking about trying kepubify bc some of the epubs I've downloaded have turned into funky formatting with the calibre plugin.

right now my kobo clara 2e downsides are 1) device is still bigger than I'd like*, 2) kepub vs other file formats thing is mildly annoying, 3) can't buy ebooks from kobo store via app on my phone, have to either buy from kobo website or from my ereader, 4) screen is often less sensitive than I'm used to with other touch screen devices (this may just be an ereader thing), 5) I can't send books to my kobo wirelessly unless I've purchased them in the kobo store (idk if this is something I could do for other ereader systems, I haven't looked).

*there aren't really any devices from any of the major ereader brands with screens smaller than 6in (which is what the clara 2e has). I also looked at the xiaomi inkpalm 5, which does appear to be an ideal size for me, but you have to do some annoying command line shit to get it running in english and it doesn't appear to be waterproof. I may look into it again if I get sick enough of not having my ereader actually fit in my pants pockets. you could also get an eink phone and use it as an ereader, but they're phone prices instead of ereader prices, and most of them have the same language support issues the xiaomi has. the other thing I looked at is the open book project and the m5 paper which are both diy ereader kits and I'm more inclined to fuck with one of those than the xiaomi if I decide to do something more fun in the future, but I don't have the bandwidth for that right now.

kobo also supports integration with overdrive so you can check out library books, but I have recently discovered my library card is expired and bc I'm sick I haven't gone in to get a new one yet so I have no idea what that looks like and whether or not reading library ebooks uses the good reader (like with kepubs) or the no features reader.

one last annoying thing is the kobo store on the reader keeps trying to tell me to subscribe to kobo plus, which is basically like spotify premium but for ebooks and/or audiobooks. but not all titles ever are included so I haven't really looked into it v much bc rn I've found what I wanted to read through other methods (shout out to standardebooks.org)

anyway overall I would say I'd recommend it if your use case is exactly the same as mine, which is I wanted something small to read in the bath and carry around to hopefully replace my doomscrolling habit with reading like I used to when I was a kid, and it so far has been mildly successful. I did start wearing a fanny pack on a regular basis so that way I could actually carry it around everywhere like my phone, but even with a fanny pack I don't think you could fit something much bigger than 6-7in screen, so I'm not sure anything else would work. if you wanted a bigger ereader, I know someone else who has one of the larger kobos (not sure which one, we don't talk super often) and seems p happy w it. I briefly entertained the idea of getting one from kobo w a stylus and using that to take notes in class bc I saw some people in the ereader subreddit say they liked using it for that, and then I remembered I have an ipad and apple pencil to do that exact thing already and I'm already really happy w that setup.

[widowshill]

more r/v au things.

During their engagement period, Roger will sometimes ask Carolyn’s help picking out little gifts for V, out of some honest anxiety that he’s not really in touch with the tastes of the Youth. Things like records, dresses, jewelry, hair clips: sometimes with the success, but more often that not they’re more to his niece's taste (but V finds the gesture charming anyway, and it gives Carolyn more options to steal borrow from her closet). he does just as well if not better on his own: old fashioned watches, pearls, silk scarves, French lace lingerie, and books, most of all. he'll occasionally buy her a very nice edition to add to her shelf in the Collinwood library, but what she really likes is being given one of his used books –– annotated poetry anthologies, or marked up old shakespeare. it makes her feel much more intimate with him, and she loves getting a glimpse his mind.

They have one child together: a little girl, Josette Elizabeth Collins, nicknamed “Josie” by Carolyn shortly after she’s born, and the name sticks (much like Vicki did). She resembles V more, especially her nose and mouth, but she has her father’s blue eyes and waving gold hair (this also means she ends up looking a little bit like Laura, but they all keep that observation to themselves). She’s born small and sickly after a rather difficult birth, and remains tiny throughout childhood. But with a household full to give her some TLC, Josie shoots up in height as a preteen. she quickly becomes wayyy taller than Liz, especially once she starts wearing heels, to her aunt's external exasperation at just how fast she's grown.

One childbirth scare is enough, though –– Roger's already come much too close to losing V on several other occasions, as well as having lost his own mother as a result of his birth, to want to risk it again. besides, they already have David, who is enough of a handful on his own, and Rog is getting older, so they mutually decide that he get a vasectomy. you can bet that he fully hams up the recovery period and makes everyone baby him for a week. Liz doesn't fully approve ( it is her brother's branch of the family tree that will continue the name, after all, so she dislikes the idea of not even having the chance of more Collinses ) ... but she has no desire to put V at further risk, either, so she doesn't protest too much.

David is very jealous at the beginning when the baby comes: both Rog and V absolutely dote on her, as does Liz, and Carolyn, who simply delights in being the older cousin / aunt figure to the new baby in the house. So David gets a little impetuous for a while and torments Josie in his way: inventing or summoning ghosts to scare her, slipping the music box into her crib, spooking her at her nap time or dinner. But he grows out of it as Josie grows and he gets more fond, and much more protective of her: he still bugs her as an older brother is wont to do, but rest assured he’s the only one that’s allowed to. David Collins in his teens is not someone you want as an enemy.

As I've alluded to elsewhere, one of V's first big tasks as a new Collins wife that she takes on is the historic restoration of the west wing, which is something she's wanted to do since Burke's death. this is where Roger, V, David, and Josie will stay when it's finished ( another sore point of David's, losing one of his secret play-places ). Barnabas helps –– both in the practical oversight of the project, and in the funding ––  but Roger's pride won't permit him to help too much with the latter. to help offset some of the costs, both of construction and of the upkeep / taxes with having more of the house open, Victoria suggests they open the house up to public tours a few days a week. Roger protests furiously against the idea of having a stream of strangers –– commoners –– in the house, but it's Liz that puts her foot down. she and Vicki personally administer the tours ( being the most knowledgeable about the house, and it and the family history ) including seasonal haunted nighttime tours, where you just might catch a glimpse of a real ghost.

[estellamiraiauthor]

The Stars May Rise and Fall: The Annotated Re-read (Chapter 34, aka the end)

Well, here we are at the last chapter!

As always, spoilers under the cut:

So. The last chapter, which I actually wrote before the second to last chapter because it was easier. There’s no conflict here, just my boys finally getting to be happy together.

Rei has moved… and if you’re willing to wait until this chapter, I think this is the BIGGEST sign that he’s made some significant changes to his life for the better. Moving out of that apartment that’s practically haunted with memories of Saki and now of Teru? That’s HUGE. Plus the place he moves into is bright and has windows that aren’t blacked out and is accessible, and it’s just such a better place for him mentally and physically.

And of course he buys the piano from the previous chapter because it’s fate, dammit, and puts a photo of Saki on top of it, with Teru’s blessing… because just because a loved one isn’t with us anymore doesn’t mean they’re no longer a loved one, or no longer a part of their family… and I do think Rei and Saki WERE a family, even if the law wouldn’t let them be so on paper.

So, Rei and Teru can’t legally be married either, but they do what they can to make sure that they are both legal owners and residents of the new condo, and that either of them will inherit the other’s wealth if something were to happen.

One other thing that some same-sex couples in Japan do is adult adoption, which makes the younger partner legally the adopted child of the older partner. The system itself is mostly for people who have family businesses or assets that they would like to keep in the family, or a family name that either has a lot of value or is maybe very rare that they want to preserve, but who don’t have children of their own or whose children died, married into other families, went into a different profession, etc. I’m not sure if Teru and Rei would do this. I think Rei would want to, because one of the biggest benefits is that you become each others legal next-of-kin and can make things like medical decisions. I think Rei would want to know that if he were ever in a situation where he was unable to make those decisions for himself again, that Teru would be the one making the call. But I’m not sure Teru would love the idea just because, you know, he doesn’t want to be Rei’s SON, he wants to be his HUSBAND. So, it might be a choice they’d make eventually, but I don’t think they’d be rushing to do it at this point in time.

And then they go to visit Saki. I don’t really think there’s a lot to comment on here—it’s all there on the page?

I know not everyone loves the last line: “For as long as they had, until the seasons turned.” Some people have said that it implies that they didn’t live happily ever after, but that wasn’t really the intent. It was just to say that nothing lasts FOREVER, but that knowing That doesn’t make it LESS of a happy ending. Even if they grow very, very old together and die in each other’s arms at age 100 (and 115? See, already looking pretty unlikely), that still isn’t FOREVER. The relationship WILL end someday, because everything does. But that makes it MORE beautiful, not less.

And the book actually ends with “The End”. I know a lot of writers add “The End” when they finish a draft, but I never did. I only added it when I was ready to publish and (more or less) happy with the path I chose.

And that concludes my way-too-long annotations! Thank you for sticking with me till the end!

[treacherousrift]

this is the samandy anon and omg i def would also love the during Stanford thoughts 😱

Ah okay hold up. So there’s this whole giant thing I typed out, this one’s highly specific to the best friends to lovers trope. But academic rivals to lovers is also a possibility but it doesn’t seem like either of them to be rivals.

But anyway for their majors:

I personally always have this headcanon that Sam was an arts major, specifically art history, or journalism, I also feel like he would dabble in moral philosophy. (I’m projecting).

Andy gives off computer science vibes (just trust me), or he’s like a super weird computer science major with a minor in Theatre. (I firmly believe arts majors and science majors are attracted to each other because they are attracted to the idea that the other person is studying something they don’t entirely understand for context) also Andy transferred to Stanford after his first year at community college (mad respect, that’s hard work)

I feel like they’d meet in an arts class, particularly English since of course English is a requirement. And Andy would fall first, he’d seeing him reading a book in the back of class and be intrigued. The book is like something on moral philosophy or a book about environmental law (since Ofc hes “prelaw” which means absolutely nothing btw)

So first:

Andy would introduce himself, I feel like he’d be super confident. And he’d ask what book Sam was reading, and then suggest they study for the next weekly quiz. Sam would agree and study in the library.

Or Andy would buy the book and randomly talk to Sam about it; Sam would be like “did you get the book I’m reading” and he’s find that really romantic. Or maybe he’s confused by his romantic feels cuz he’s like “omg I’m not straight?” That’s up to you. Maybe Andy would even annotate the book and gift it to Sam.

But Sam would start to fall for Andy, noticing how smart and cool he is. He’d go see Andy do improv, and he’d sit beside him in the English lecture.

And Sam would make excuses to hang with Andy in the library. Sam and Andy would have weekly coffee get togethers, Sam would memorize Andy’s order. Andy would wait outside sams lectures and surprise him with a muffin and a coffee, since he would know that Andy has back to back classes on Wednesday. Andy would do the same, but specifically on days when he had three hour classes.

Also Andy starts to fall in love with how grumpy Sam is after courses and always tries to make him feel better and Sam starts to realize that Andy brings out his inner child and he’s like “holy shit nobody has known me this well” and people always hear them laughing together outside lecture halls, and they’d be so comfortably silent.

But also they’d be pining secretly and watching each other date other people because they think both of them are either straight or not into each other. Cuz you know it’s hard to tell if someone’s gay or well…into you.

Andy would start to borrow sams Stanford hoodies, and then Andy’s friends would tease him and be like “you have a crush on him” and he’d deny it so much. Sams friends would do the same, especially Jess. They’d both deny it, just figuring out their sexualities. Or maybe they know they’re queer up to interpretation again.

Then one night after Sam and Andy finish watching a movie in sams dorm, Andy would lean on the door frame on his way out, and he’s looking at Sam like he’s supposed to kiss Sam goodbye, but he doesn’t. And as Andy’s walking out back to his dorm, he goes “oh.” And that’s when he realizes he likes Sam.

And andy confesses after he avoids Sam for a while. Andy avoids Sam cuz he thinks Sam doesn’t like him and Sam finds him in the courtyard and is like “what’s your problem man” and andy tells him “I like you! I’m avoiding you cuz you obviously don’t” then they kiss.

Anyways that’s all I have for now. There’s a million different samandy Stanford scenarios I could talk abt.

[ayearofgoodfate]

i’m staying awake making sure my roommate doesn’t start showing od symptoms. we tend to take things too far. i have my hell day later and it’s all i can do not to fall asleep but i miss my parents house even though they didn’t always know how to be parents and i miss my little brother and sister and my dog and my bookshelf and the wall i would tape up magazine articles and photos to whenever i got sad. and i think that college fucks you up a little bit. there is so much love here. there’s also so much trauma.

when i was about nine my dad decided that he and i were going to read every single book in the middle grade section of the library. my dad had a lot of passion and not a lot of ways to harness it so every saturday he would drive me to the library and he had this old grey car that he could never tame enough to follow the speed limit. and we’d just spend hours there. my dad never talked to me a lot, we never had conversations that weren’t in a group setting. he never told me things or asked me questions but i was a talker so he learned what would work to work around that. he read to me. he’d always read to me. we’d knock out a book or two in the library, literally just sitting there for four hours straight on the old blue carpet while he’d make up voices for the characters, then we’d take about twelve more books home for the week. I’d read most of them on my own, but we’d go through one or two together throughout the week before bed. when we left the library he’d always buy girl scout cookies in quarters from whoever was outside the library selling. we’d eat the whole box. dad never made it feel like we had less than. he never ever told me that we were as poor as we were. he has done a lot of things but i will love him for that forever. i will always defend my dad.

we stopped reading together after a while. he got tired or i got old and he’d joined the church and my siblings weren’t babies and suddenly there were littler kids that needed reading time too. we didn’t finish the entire middle grade section of the library. i don’t think we even made it halfway. i don’t think dad has gone to the library since. the last book we read, we didn’t finish, and i was a bitch about it. it was this big collection of science fiction short stories and the girls in my class had been telling me that stuff was for boys and i simply wasn’t having it. dad wouldn’t have that. every book is every book, so we trudged.

i got really sick that fall. i slept for days straight. my parents couldn’t afford doctors and probably wouldn’t have taken me anyway but dad was really good at taking care of sick people. he’d sit there and watch me breathe and make me mac and cheese and read to me and i’d be half asleep. this one story was about solipsism. i was delirious, drifting in and out of his voice, letting the idea of me being the only real person in the world marinate in my mind. i woke up three days later like i’d never been sick. i needed to read that story again because i needed to know it existed because, mainly, i needed to know that dad did and mom did and baby sister and brother and my friends and the book was gone.

i looked for it for years in different libraries. big. silver. i resigned myself to the fact that it was a fever dream and then like magic it popped up on the library shelves again. i took it out and renewed it for months on end and drew in it with the invisible ink pen I stole from office depot’s back to school sale. i marked it with my name and annotated it with notes on how dad read it when i was little and it was mine until it was overdue. years later i bought a used copy i found at a yard sale. annotated. i play around in my mind with the idea of trading the books out, as if i still live in a place where i could. the point is, it’s real. we’re real. dad was real, our library trips that had been half forgotten were real, and isn’t it nice to feel real and to know everything else is too?

I miss dad. my roommate’s breathing heavy and in a few hours she will wake up sick. between my classes i’ll raid my drawers and wallet for enough coins to run to cvs and buy her some mac and cheese because that’s what we both crave when we’re not doing too good. i will never tell her i paid for it in coins and i’ll never tell her i stayed up to make sure she’d be okay. we’re a lot alike and so i’m not even mad at her for what she did tonight. she just wanted to know she was real. she is my best friend and she has a lot of passion. i take to people like that, latch onto them like a leech because i was taught to feel deeply and anyone who doesn’t i seem to repel. i will go to class and not fall asleep, and i’ll wear cute clothes and there will be circles under my eyes and no part of me will match but that’s how i am and i can’t ever in good faith tell anyone why. i play around with calling dad a lot. I look at his contact but i can’t bring myself to hear the silence. i think that’s why i went to book school in the first place. i think it’s why i’m writing this.

[pen-observing]

Hi! If you will have any inspiration about this

What do you think would be little things that brothers would bring you as courting you? As like birds or penguins with rocks and sticks?

Thank you 💜

sjdaj this was fun! i did have an image of lucifer bringing feathers as a meme in my mind for a sec

what the brothers bring you while courting you/wanting to impress you:

Lucifer:

He is what many would consider to be a classic idea of a man. Tall, dark, handsome with refined taste. Because of this he tries to be refined in what he brings you as well. Why should you two not share such traits?

Lucifer because of this relies on the extravagant, classic choices. Most of all – jewelry.

Rings, necklaces, bracelets – everything he sees while out on an errand that catches his eye.

He also tries to match some items with you. He has a golden pen, why shouldn’t you have one as well?

However, one thing that gets in his way is that: no matter how strong his impulse to buy or obtain rare jewels is – he cannot always give them to you.

He overthinks it.

‘if I give them two rings two weeks in a row, would that be too much? Would they then spend money to buy an outfit that matches it? Would the gifts lose their meaning if I don’t space them out? If I continue to give them so many gifts, they would feel responsible to return them so they would spend more money on me and we both know that I am the one who has more money so--’

All these thoughts come to him. Sometimes Lucifer even thinks that your pride would be hurt if he gives you jewels so often.

He tries not to go overboard but he knows that there is a whole desk drawer of little boxes just waiting for the right time to go to you.

Mammon:

No matter how much Mammon may chase gold and sparkles – he is no Lucifer and there is no way that he can just rely on jewels.

Sure, on very special occasions he manages to surprise you with them and that does make it more meaningful.

Mammon puts aside everything else and actually gets a job whenever your birthday is close.

So what else could be bring you?

He is well aware of how birds bring branches or rocks – how sometimes they even spend so much time flying high above and continuously dropping walnuts for others on the road until they crack. His approach is similar.

When you have issues or need to open something – he always offers himself.

It is a bit silly but being there for someone counts.

Besides this – every trinket that he sees somehow ends up in your room

Plushies, fun masks, nail polish that matches his, a leaf that fell in his hair while he was sleeping under a tree and dreamt of you.

He also brings postcards, magazines, photos you might enjoy.

Once he brought you a heart shaped stone and bragged about how his keen eye managed to observe it in the clean river!

Something in every corner of your room will be adjacent to him.

“What if I brought you branches?” “What?” “Nothing!”

He just wanted to ask!

Leviathan:

Lucifer is impulsive in buying just one thing, Levi, however, is impulsive all around.

And that impulsivity goes in many directions.

He is able to use and calculate all his Akuzon points to make sure that you get 10 products instead of just 1.

He takes it very, very seriously.

Sometimes he buys you way too many snacks, other times he orders 5 costumes

Often his courting relies on the thought; what if we shared this!

His mind says that the more you have in common the better match you are.

This is why he brings matching keychains or slippers or even computer backgrounds and mousepads.

He still knows that ‘matching’ does not fully count but it really warms his heart when he sees that you are willing to share and indulge in those small things that would not really matter to others.

It gives him a confidence boost and reassures him that you are in fact open to him.

However, something still has to be yours alone.

Yours alone, from his hands and he needs to make sure of that.

Levi does bring you pearls like penguins do.

And he did in fact spend a long time underwater making sure he brings the best ones.

Just... never show him the video that trended of a female penguin cheating on her partner in the human world.

Satan:

Satan, no matter how much he tries to deny it, is in many ways similar to Lucifer.

He might dress the way he does but he tries to be a classic gentleman in this regard.

He does bring jewelry too – however he never brings it without a deeper, more profound reason.

‘so what if this ring is rare? What does it matter to them? Nothing.’

He has to hear you say it is very pretty to give it to you.

The necklace needs to remind him of your eyes or he is not buying it at all.

Because of this – he is very picky so few gifts are of this nature.

What else does he bring?

Satan writes you notes all the time.

Sometimes they are there to remind you of water or meals, other times they are short quotes.

In fact, he brings you annotated books; lines that remind him of you; quotes of feelings he knows thanks to you.

He brings you parts of himself and looks for parts of you in everything.

This is his idea of courting.

And don’t be surprised to get letters (wax made by him) under your door even if you live close by.

Asmodeus:

Unlike the others, Asmo has no problems with giving you whatever his own impulse says to.

Why should he hide these 2 perfumes that he bought thinking of you and wait for 3 weeks to present them to you?

No, do it right then and there because your heart felt the love or do not do it at all!

Because of this, his impulse costs a lot. Only second to Lucifer.

Asmo wants to give you luxurious things but he knows that jewelry alone can get boring rather fast and is limited by time and fashion and practicality etc.

So he gives you luxury in everything.

New lines of fragrance are yours as well as his, new skin care products that few humans can buy just show up at your door.

Does he also give you framed photos of him? Yes

Does he give you best silk? Also yes.

Why should the two of you not enjoy these things? You deserve it after all.

Still, Asmo is very sentimental too.

He gifts you photo albums of things that make him feel so. Memories of trips and walks; of sleepovers and quiet nights as well.

Yes, luxury is there but this small pretty pen is cheap and has hearts on it! He simply has to give it to you!

Beelzebub:

Beelzebub knows the ‘proper’, ‘correct’ or expected ways to court someone.

He knows what gifts others give and why.

But, all of that seems slightly...like vanity or showing off to him.

It just wouldn’t feel right to give you a framed work of art or color stones that glimmer if it does not really awake something.

His gifts are as gentle as him.

Yes, food is the most obvious choice but he really does worry if you are eating well because humans are fragile.

Flowers that he sees in shops or on walks.

While once walking with Luke he saw some and said how pretty they would look on you. Luke taught him to make flower crowns for that reason.

Most of his gifts are handmade.

He wants to help you on his own no matter what.

The most consistent gifts however are those that you said you needed.

Doesn’t matter when you said it or how, maybe it was just a passing thought, but he remembers and he gets them for you.

Belphegor:

it wouldn’t be wrong to say that he manages to mix up all of these ways and refuses to settle down on just one type.

This is because he is similar to Beel.

Beel gives you thinks you said you needed; Belphie gives you those you did not even notice.

He is constantly observing you and being as smart as he is – nothing escapes him.

You don’t have to complain how you grew bored of your boots or how annoying those headphones are.

He just notices it and gives you new ones.

Sometimes he looks at you during a party in Diavolo’s castle and things that a necklace is missing and would actually be useful in the future as well; so, he buys it.

Books for assignments you are not aware you will need next year find their way to your table. Yes, it is a year but he is a published Devildom scholar so trust him with this.

Paintings, matching rings with stars, a keychain of some small alien from a human TV show etc.

He treads the lines of outlandish with luxury and simple.

Seeing you surprised no matter what because you never mentioned these things always brings him joy.

a/n: how tf do you spell jewelry is it this or jewellery or i hate his word pls

[the-modernmary]

state of grace || priest!hotch x reader

 Summary: Falling in love with your priest was never part of the plan. You were too damaged to ever be around all of his good. Still, you continued to go to church and grow close with Father Hotchner, doing your best to push down the growing feelings for him. After three long weeks apart, however, you came to the church, soaked from the rain, and it becomes harder to avoid temptation.

Contains: SMUT! 18+ only, minors DNI. Priest Hotch, Nipple Play, Dry Humping, Sacrilege, Pining, brief gun/bullet wound mention

Comments: This is actually a snippet of a potentially much longer Priest Hotch fic. That being said, it shouldn’t affect your understanding of the story at all. Thank you so much to @angelfxllcm for coming up with this idea with me and pushing me to write it and @doctorstethoscope for looking over it and being an absolute angel. (go check out their fics if you haven’t!!)

Rossi’s phone ringing drew an exasperated groan from the lips of everybody else on the jet.

“Rossi, please,” you begged from your spot across from him, looking up from the poetry book in your hands. “If we have to go on another case, that’s going to be my stressor, and then you all will have to catch me.”

You were anxious to get home already. Your first case in Florida, a family annihilator, had taken eight days, and before the jet could even get in the air, the team was immediately pulled to Bend, Oregon for a child abduction that quickly went serial. Luckily, all the kids were able to be returned safely to their parents, but three weeks on the road took everything out of you. 

And, if you were being completely honest with yourself, you wanted to see Father Hotchner, and it was making you antsy. This had been the longest you had ever gone without seeing him, and despite having talked to him on the phone a few times, it wasn’t enough. You wanted to be near him, to touch him, to be held by him, to kiss him.

It felt like you were a teenager again, just counting down the minutes until your next class period with your crush. Except in your case, your crush was a widowed Catholic priest who believed his path in priesthood was a way for him to atone for the sins of his father.

  Rossi glanced up from his phone just long enough to give you a doubtful look, eyebrows raised. “I doubt that would take more than two hours. Three, tops. We’d be back in time for dinner.”

  In the seat beside you, Emily laughed at your indignant face. “Oh, don’t take it personally. Just run up his credit card bill at the bar tonight.”

  The insinuation that Rossi would be paying for drinks that night did not go over his head. “Believe it or not, I’m not made of money,” your unit chief argued. “And even if I was, I’m going home to my Cubans and my whiskey. I spend way too much time with you all as it is.”

  Emily shrugged and nudged you with her elbow. “What about you? I’ve never known you to say no to a night out.”

  You kept your eyes glued to the words in front of you, sketching in the margins of the poem. Honeysuckles with butterflies landing on the leaves, rain falling down on mountain tops filled with bluebells and cherry trees. “Can’t tonight. I’m exhausted. I plan on watching Desperate Housewives reruns until I pass out,” you lied.

  “Great,” came Derek’s voice from across the jet. “So we’re going to have to buy our own booze?”

  Your head shot up at that. “I know you weren’t expecting me to foot the bill.”

  His lips quipped up in a smirk. “No, you just know how to get enough free drinks for us all.”

  “Then you all just need to step up your game,” you laughed. “Cause you are on your own tonight.”

  It was silent for a few moments as you went back to your book, only stopped when you noticed Emily trying to crane her neck to see what you were reading. Instinctively, you shut it quickly before she could get a good look. The poem wasn’t anything incriminating, but there were the little annotations that Aaron had left for you to find, and you wanted to keep those sacred, protected between just the two of you.

  “Can I help you?” you asked, voice low enough that Rossi couldn’t hear.

  Emily gave you a knowing glance, but she shook her head as she answered. “Desperate Housewives, huh? Is that what they’re calling it now?”

  “Fuck off, Emily.”

  Emily nodded slowly, unbelievingly, and you mentally braced yourself for what would come next. “So when we caught you having a little sleepover a month ago at the church, you were just… watching Desperate Housewives?”

  You threw the wrapper from your granola bar at her. “Fuck off, Emily,” you chuckled. “I keep telling you that nothing happened. We just slept.”

  “Hm. I don’t believe you.”

  It was true, technically. That night, you really only had fallen asleep next to Father Hotchner. What Emily and the rest of the team didn’t know about were the multiple, desperate, hidden makeouts wherever you could — behind the church before Mass, sitting on his desk in his rectory, and of course, in the hallway of Rossi’s mansion.

  It was as far as you would let yourself go with Aaron, even though each separation killed you a little bit inside. It wasn’t that you didn’t want to — you had absolutely zero qualms about sleeping with a priest — but as you got to know Aaron, you knew that you couldn’t ask him to break his divine vow for somebody like you. So you made do with what you could get, hanging on to every technicality so that you could keep him close to you.

  The rest of the ride was quiet, everybody either sleeping or in their own little world. At some point, it had started to rain. A sharp pain that shot across your chest caused you to hiss from the discomfort. Rossi looked up at you in concern, a silent “are you okay?” passing between you two, and you nodded just as silently.

  Nerve regeneration, the doctors had warned you. After getting shot and going through surgery, it could take months for the nerves to fully heal, and as they did, you would keep getting those random, shock-like pains. To try and distract from the pain, you mindlessly rubbed at the offending scar, red and thick and raised and hideous. You had tried everything from scar creams to corticosteroid injections, and nothing seemed to work. Even after a year and a half, you were still haunted by that dreaded case.

  As if the bullet that they couldn’t take out wasn’t reminder enough. 

  By the time the jet made it back to DC, the rain had turned into a full blown storm, which made for the most terrifying landing of your life. You had shot off a text to Aaron that you were on your way over, but he hadn’t responded yet. He was expecting you, that much you knew, so you didn’t worry too much. In the short walk it took to get to your car, your coat was completely soaked. Reid said something to you in farewell, but you couldn’t hear him over the sound of thunder booming in the distance. 

  The drive to the church was easy, the route from the tarmac becoming something akin to muscle memory. The storm was getting worse with every passing second, but you didn’t mind. Every thunderclap shook the car, and it was a welcome distraction from the shooting pain from your scar. Luckily, it wasn’t long until you were in the all-too-familiar parking lot.

  It was the middle of the night, so you went straight to the rectory around the back of the church, assuming Aaron would be there and getting ready for bed.

  “Aaron?” you called, pounding on the front door. No answer. The rain continued its onslaught, and your now soaked work shirt clung uncomfortably to your skin.

  “Father Hotchner?” you tried again, shouting as best as you could over the storm. Still no answer. Frowning, you ran back around to the front of the street to the entrance of the church.

  With the storm and the dark clouds, the church probably should have looked like the setting to an exorcism horror movie, but it wasn’t to you — it never could be. Not when lightning struck and lit up the stained glass in the front, casting a rainbow across the street. No, it felt like it was welcoming you home.

  You barely touched the heavy wooden doors when they creaked open. The inside of the church was dark, the only light coming from the spotlight on the crucifix, the many prayer candles lining the edges, and the sporadic flashes of lightning.

  Sitting in the middle of the pews, right where you and Rossi sat every Sunday, was Aaron, deep in what you could only assume was prayer. He was kneeling, his head bowed and resting on his hands, and you found yourself slowly dragging your eyes down the slope of his bare neck.

  From your point of view, you couldn’t see his white clerical collar. He just looked like another lost soul, praying for guidance. But you knew better, knew how deep his faith was, and how honorable he was. And he was no lost soul, not anymore. He knew what his path was, and it was one that he had to walk without you.

  Aaron made the sign of the cross, which you took as your cue to speak up. 

  “Father Hotchner?”

  Your voice was soft, but it might as well have been another clap of thunder with the way he jumped. Aaron turned to look at you, eyes wide, and it was as if he had seen a ghost. Despite having texted him on the plane that you were coming, he still looked surprised to see you.

  “I’m sorry,” you continued, wrapping your arms around yourself. “Did I interrupt something?”

  Aaron blinked a few times before shaking his head. “Not at all. I’m glad you’re here.”

  His eyes dropped down to your body, as if just realizing your rain-soaked state. “You’re drenched. Let me get you a coat.” Even as he said it, his gaze never left your chest, where the wet silk of your work shirt clung to every curve of your body, emphasizing the slope of your breasts. You wanted him to keep looking at you like that, eyes dark with forbidden desire, so you shook your head. 

  “I’m fine. It’s actually not that cold,” you explained, smoothing down your pencil skirt. “Besides, you’ve got all these candles going.”

  Aaron gestured to the spot next to him on the pew. “Sit.”

  It wasn’t a request or a friendly invitation — it was a demand, one you were all too happy to comply with. You sat next to him obediently, your thigh brushing his as you sat too close to be considered appropriate.

  Three weeks had been too long. You couldn’t sit there and pretend to be unaffected by Aaron — the warmth of his skin and the smell of his cologne was making you dizzy. The storm outside faded into white noise, and all you could focus on was Aaron’s soft breaths and the way he was looking at you, like all of his prayers had just been answered.

  “Father—” you started, but he cut you off with a lift of his hand. 

  “Aaron,” he corrected. “Nobody else is here, you don’t have to call me father.”

  You gave him a small smile in lieu of an answer, because he couldn’t understand just how much you needed to call him Father, how much you needed that reminder that he was unavailable before you let yourself completely fall into the fantasy that he could ever be yours.

  Noticing your silence, Aaron continued. “How were the cases?”

  You shrugged. “Fine. Long. Glad to be back.” Your mouth went dry, and suddenly your tongue felt too big to speak. “I missed you.”

  This was the part where he would kiss you if you were dating. He would wrap you in his arms and pull you close to him and hold you as tight as possible. But he couldn’t do that.

  Still, there were a lot of things he shouldn’t do, and yet…

  His big hand cupped the back of your neck, fingers tangling in your hair, and he slowly pulled you closer to him, eyes flickering to your lips. Just as it looked like he was about to kiss you, he used his thumb to tilt your head back and he pressed his lips to your exposed neck.

  Aaron breathed in your perfume, and it made him pull you closer as he continued his attack on your neck. He never wanted to let you go, wanted to keep kissing you like this. The dam of passion broke open. There was something so addictive about you, some divine pull that was keeping him tied to you.

  It was the one divine vow, he realized, he didn’t want to break.

  You whispered his name as if it were your own personal hallelujah. 

  “I missed you, too,” he mumbled against your neck, pulling you impossibly closer to him. Your whole body felt like it was on fire, and a part of you thought that if this was what the flames of Hell felt like, you would happily go there a million times over. Anything to keep Aaron’s hands and lips on you.

  “Can we—” you panted, gripping his biceps. “I need to—”

  “Need to what, angel?” he teased, and his thumb slowly dragged along your lower lip. “Use your words.”

  “Kiss me,” you begged, and his mouth was on yours before you could even add on a ‘please’.

  Aaron kissed you as if you were the single oasis in the desert, as if you were the Promised Land. His hands roamed your body, memorizing every part of you until settling on the curve of your ass. Without warning, he lifted you and pulled you from your spot on the pew and onto his lap, never once breaking the kiss. 

  As you straddled him, your pencil skirt rode up around your hips, and the only thing separating his hard arousal from your dripping pussy was the thin lace of your panties and his cassock. You adjusted to hike your skirt up more when the sound of fabric ripping gave you both pause.

  The sudden movement had caused the small slit of your skirt to tear, exposing the entirety of your thigh to Aaron.

  “I’m sorry,” he started, “I didn’t —”

  “It’s fine.” You grabbed one of his hands and guided it down to the newly exposed skin. He breathed in sharply. “It’s fine,” you repeated.

  He captured your lips in another kiss, this time more hungry and desperate. Aaron’s hands splayed across your back and pulled you closer to him, your chest pressed against his. You wanted — no, needed — as much contact with him as possible, or you were pretty sure you would combust. The wood of the pew dug into your knees, but you barely noticed, not when he was kissing you so intensely and with so much feeling. Like all he wanted to do for the rest of his life was kiss you.

  His hands — God, those hands — gripped your hips, hard enough that you knew it was going to leave beautiful bruises the next day, little dots to remind you that none of this was a dream. Aaron cautiously and experimentally guided you to grind down on him. When you let out a soft gasp of want, desire, need, Aaron did it again, lifting his hips as he did, and the friction hit all the right places.

  He was big. That was the first thing you noticed. Even from between layers of clothing, you could feel the outline of his dick, and it sent your mind down a spiral of dirty fantasies: You on your knees and looking up at him through your eyelashes as he guides you by your hair, showering you in praise. Or him pinning your hips to the bed, grunting into your neck about trust me, baby, I’ll make it fit.

  A loud thunderclap forced you to rip your lips from his, and it was only once you separated did you realize just how breathless you were. Under you, Aaron’s hips bucked slightly, and you couldn’t tell if the heat was coming from you or him or if it even made a difference. 

  His warm fingers slipped under the hem of your shirt, leaving goosebumps all over your cold skin. “I can feel how wet you are,” he groaned, going back to moving your hips back and forth over his. “You feel so good, so needy. All this from just a kiss, angel?”

  Another thunderclap, and the lighting shining through the stained glass spotlighted his clerical collar, the stark white of it almost blinding. 

  “Aaron,” you panted, holding on to the one logical side of your brain left. “We shouldn’t. You don’t want—”

  “What I want,” he interrupted, voice low and raspy, “Is to touch you. To make you feel good. To worship you.”

  That was all the convincing you needed. You trailed red lipstick kisses down the column of his throat, relishing in the feeling of his Adam’s apple bobbing. You tugged at his hair, exposing even more skin for you to make, and when your lips hit fabric, you didn’t stop, didn’t even hesitate. You pressed a kiss to that damned stark white collar, staining it red, staining it with you.

  You pulled back to admire your handiwork, but Aaron wasn’t looking at you — not at your face, at least. His gaze was dropped down to your chest, where the top few buttons of your shirt had accidentally popped open. The lace of your bra was peeking out, but that’s not what had caught Aaron’s attention. No, he was staring right at your scar, which looked more raised and obvious than it had ever looked before. Panic shot through you, faster and more intense than the lightning outside.

  “Aaron,” you gasped, voice rough, but even as you tried to pull away, to hide the glaring flaw that was on full display for him to judge, Aaron kept you close to him.

  His eyes, so dark that they almost looked black, flashed back up to your face, while his fingers slowly made work on undoing the rest of your shirt buttons.

  “Beautiful,” he mumbled, popping open another button. “You’re a gift.” Another button. “To the world.” Last button. “And especially to me.”

  He dropped his mouth to your chest, kissing over your scar. Outside, lightning stuck and shook the building. Aaron peppered kisses down your chest, and your skin burned deliciously. By now, your shirt was fully unbuttoned and sliding down your shoulders. Your fingers tangled in his hair and your head was thrown back. If it wasn’t for his strong arms wrapped around your waist and forcing the arch in your back, you were certain that you would have fallen off the pew.

  His teeth grazed your skin, down between the valley of your breasts, until it met with the lace of your bra. When you had first left for the cases, you had cursed yourself for only packing the flimsy piece of lace. Now, however, you were thanking God for the accident, especially as Aaron flattened his tongue over your barely covered nipple.

  A sharp gast left your lips. You wanted — needed — to feel him on you. You tangled your fingers in his hair, holding him close to your chest, all while arching your back. His hot breath on your cold, rain soaked skin caused your nipple to harden and poke out from the lace in your bra. 

  You should have stopped him right there, told him that you had damned him enough and that you couldn’t let him throw away all his work. But then he ran his hand up your spine and teasingly fiddled with the hooks of your bra, and you couldn’t say no, didn’t even want to.

  All of your logical thought was thrown out the stained glass window when Aaron lifted his hips to grind against you and mumbled "you feel like Heaven" against your black lace bra. "I bet you taste like it, too."

  “Fuck, Aaron, please,” you gasped, tangling your fingers in his hair.

  “Is that what you want, angel?” His thumb teased the underside of your breast. “For me to bend you over the altar until you’re a shaking mess, all for me?”

  The mental image of Aaron with his head buried between your thighs was making you dizzy with want. You were growing needier by the second, desperate to get him to touch you and kiss you until you couldn’t remember a time when he wasn’t touching you. In a frenzied attempt to get more, you ripped your shirt and bra off and tossed them blindly behind you.

  “Just like that, angel,” Aaron praised as you rocked your hips back and forth on his lap, grinding down on his dick through the thin layers of clothes. “Do you want to cum, hm? Go ahead, baby, soak my dick. Use my body for your pleasure.”

  Hearing those words come from Aaron’s — Father Hotchner’s — mouth short circuited your brain. You sped up your movements, desperately chasing your own orgasm, but it wasn’t enough. 

  “Please, Aaron,” you whined. “I need… I need your mouth.”

  He grinned up at you devilishly and ran his finger over your sensitive nipple. “Oh? Decided to use your words? Don’t get shy on me now. Where do you want my lips? Here?”

  He pressed a kiss to the pulse point of your neck. “Or here?” Another kiss, this time to the underside of your jaw. “Or how about here.”

  His lips captured yours in a frantic kiss, swallowing your gasp of surprise. It was frantic and hungry, as if it was the last kiss that either of you would ever have. Maybe, in a way, it was. Maybe this was the last kiss that would ever matter. You cupped his cheeks with both of your hands, and Aaron kissed you until you saw stars. All too soon, he pulled away, taking your breath with him.

  Aaron took a moment to admire you, flushed cheeks, chest heaving, and looking at him with a softness and adoration that he had seen so many times before. Always from you, always in fleeting glances and longing stares from across the church. In the candlelight, you were practically glowing, looking as ethereal as you did the first time he met you. He should have known then that the connection he had shared with you in Rossi’s mansion wasn’t some moment of weakness, a fleeting crush that would fade on its own — it was real and enduring and too pure to be anything but a gift from God.

  Outside, lightning struck, causing the colors of the stained glass window to dance across your skin. There, on top of him, holding him, in the middle of the dark church, you were illuminated, and that was answer enough. You were his new path.

  Another thunderclap. The knot in your stomach tightened, and you knew that it wouldn’t take much more to send you over the edge. Moans of “Aaron, please” and “I’m so close” tumbled from your lips.

  He rolled his hips with yours, thrusts getting more intense. You let out a long, drawn out whine, a wordless plea for more. “Were my lips not enough, angel?”

  Your arms wrapped around his neck, hands tangled in his hair, and you pulled him closer to you and where you really wanted him. Even if you wanted to, you wouldn’t be able to get words out. Not when your whole body was shaking with your impending orgasm.

  A raspy chuckle escaped his lips. “What about… here.” Without warning, he lowered his head and brought one of your nipples into his mouth with expert precision. You gasped and arched your back to give him full access to your body. 

  He swirled his tongue and started to suck on the hardened tip, looking up at the way your head was thrown back in pleasure as he did. He slowly kissed his way across your chest to the other breast, nipping softly at your skin before flatting his tongue to soothe the spot. When he passed your scar, Aaron made sure to pay special attention to it, letting his lips linger over the raised mark. He let the kisses say everything he didn’t quite have the words for. 

  Aaron repeated the same motions on your other breast, motions that were devastatingly effective at causing your hips to stutter. Your body jerked towards him as you cried out his name over and over again, like it was the only word you knew.

  Suddenly, he bucked his hips up at, and the time time, lightly scraped his teeth over your sensitive nipple, and stars exploded behind your eyes. Your orgasm hit you hard, your whole body shaking, but you didn’t dare stop grinding on top of Aaron. He seemed to have the same idea, because he continued to roll his hips against yours, entranced by the pleasure that was etched on your face.

  He wanted to hear the delicious moans, moans that he was the cause of.  “I’ve got you,” he reassures as you pull his head into your chest in order to keep him close to you. “Just like that, angel. You feel so good.”

  The coming down was slow, and for the first time in a very long time, you felt a sense of calm and safety surrounding you. Aaron continued to hold you close to him, muttering more praise in between soft kisses. The storm outside had stopped, leaving you with only the soft patter of rain on the roof. Finally, you caught your breath enough to speak.

  “Aaron, we shouldn’t…”

  “I don’t regret it,” he interrupted. 

  You tried to ignore the way that sentence made your heart swell. Getting your hopes up now would be dangerous.

  Vaguely, you could still feel his erection pressed against you. “You didn’t finish?”

  Despite himself, Aaron chuckled. “That’s okay.” Slowly, tenderly, he brought his hand up to cup your cheek, and you unconsciously leaned into his touch. He angled your head so that he could bring you back for one more longing kiss. “Stay the night?”

  The question came out so nervously that it made you smile in confusion, nose scrunched up. It wouldn’t have been the first time you had spent the night with him at the church. Aaron must have noticed your confusion, because he shook his head.

  “Stay with me,” he corrected.

  You turned your head to press a kiss to the inside of his wrist. “I’m not going anywhere.”

[avenging-fandoms]

For soft hours please! I think Bucky has a softness to him that he’d only show to those he really loves. He’d remember your favourite flowers and buy them for no particular purpose other than to see your shy smile. He’d tuck your hair out of your face when it was windy or your hands were full. He’d read every book you recommended to him and annotate the pages in detail, and he’d make you playlists (after taking a while to understand Spotify) of all his favourite songs from his youth

flowers

“yn i’m home!” bucky shouted through his apartment and you smile, heading out of the bedroom and stopping when you see bucky holding your favorite flowers in his hand. 

“there’s nothing special going on today, is there? i didn’t forget anything” your hands ran up his chest and he chuckled, shaking his head and kissing you softly. “then what are the flowers for?”

“just because i love you” he whispered, brushing his nose against yours as you both smile. “and because i wanted to see that pretty smile of yours, doll” you let out a nasal laugh, pressing your cheek against his chest. 

“you are so cute, james” you grabbed the flowers and his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you in closer into him. you held onto the collar of his shirt, brushing your nose against his neck, tilting his head up slowly. “long day?” you whisper, placing the flowers on the table. your fingers connect at the back of his head, bucky chuckling. 

“never too long of a day to spend the night with you, doll” 

hair in your face

the leaves crunched under your feet as you walked on the sidewalk closely next to bucky, your arm wrapped around his bicep with your fingers interlocked. the breeze blew harshly and you tensed, stepping closer to bucky. 

“do you wanna go back home, doll? we don’t have to finish the walk” bucky stopped and pushed hair out of your face, your nose scrunched as you tried to warm it up. 

“i would love that” he pulled his hands away, and the both of you laughed as your hair flew back into your face. “next time we go on a walk, i’ll bring a hat” you smile and he returned on, your lip quivering. 

“cold?” you nod and he held your face, his warm lip warming you up as the kiss sent electricity through your body. “better?” he smiled and you nodded, hugging his side as you two walked back to the car. 

books

“babe! oh my god, doll, i finished that book you told me about” bucky ran over to you as you walked into the door, not even letting you slide off your shoes yet.

“did you love it?” you smiled and hung up your purse and keys, kicking off your shoes on the mat. he gave you a quick kiss before opening up the page that was marked with his dog tags.

“this one page. the way the author describes joe killing beck, it’s so crazy. and i love that it’s his perspective. she tied it all together so well!” he gushed and you watch him with love in your eyes. “what?”

“i’m glad you liked it, bucky. did i ever tell you there’s a tv show about that book?” you grabbed a water bottle and turned around, and you thought bucky’s head was going to explode.

“there’s a fucking tv show?!”

dance with me

bucky grunted as he hit the wrong command on spotify again. he smiled as the song got added to his finished playlist, hitting shuffle and letting out a sigh as the familiar music flowed into his ears

james closed his eyes and leaned his head back, mouthing the words to the songs from when he was younger. he didn’t even hear the door open and closer and yiu tiptoed over, kissing his chin softly.

“hi j, this sounds..”

“old?” he smiled and you giggled, bucky standing up and showing you his phone. “i made a playlist of all the songs i could remember from before.. y’know. and listening to this..” his eyes got glossy and you pouted softly.

“bucky..” you stepped to him back he grabbed your hands, kissing your knuckles, leaving you speechless.

“may i have this dance?” he asked and you bit your lip as you nodded, wrapping an arm around his neck with the other one holding his hand out, his hand on your waist. “i’m glad i have you, yn” he whispered, dipping his head into your neck.

“i’m glad i have you too, bucky. you’re all i have, and all i’ll ever need” your arms now wrap around his neck, fingers combing through the hair at the back of his head. bucky pulled you in tighter, the song switched and the trumpets calmed you both down.

“i love you” he pulls away, his cheeks wet with a few tears. you smile close-mouthed, wiping his cheeks with your thumbs and keeping your hands there. he held your wrists and looked at you as he kissed your palms.

“i love you so much more, james, you have no idea” you whisper, kissing him passionately as the music faded out slowly. a slow song started to play but it became white noise as you got lost in bucky. “i love you”

“i love you, yn” he mumbled, kissing down your cheek, neck and shoulders. bucky hugged you tightly against his chest, showing you the songs. “we’re gonna have a dance party!

[gguksgalaxy]

Stranded | JJK | E2L

Jungkook’s offer to help you study for your exam is unwelcome. His entire presence is unwelcome. You don’t want help from the guy who passes all his classes without even trying. It’s annoying — he is annoying. From the way he grins whenever he catches you staring at him, to the way his eyes shine whenever he smiles at you. Oh, and let’s not forget the way his tattoos shift when he stretches or the way his jawline sharpens when he’s focused. Nope, you definitely can’t stand him.

›› AU: Enemies to lovers, fuck/badboy!Jungkook ›› Genre: Fluff / Smut / Angst ›› Rating: NC-17 (explicit sexual content, 18+) ›› Pairing: JJK x Reader ›› Word Count: 13k ›› Jungkook Snuggle Drabbles. Warnings Include: A lot of swearing, heavy themes of miscommunication and strong judgements, Jungkook sleeps around a lot, university related stress, brief mention of past underage drinking, emotional and romantic angst, argument, the desecration of a mug.  Sexual content: Protected sex, blowjob, cunnilingus, face sitting/riding.

A/N: This one's for you @fallinforkoo I hope that you like it!! This is not something I would usually write but the idea popped up when seeing the request so here she is! A little cliché but I hope it's original enough. Let me know what you guys think!

“As your best friend,” Taehyung says sheepishly over the phone, “I really need you to do me a favour.”

You groan, leaning your head over the edge of the bed. “I don’t like where this is going.”

He hums. He doesn’t even laugh. There’s just a brief silence before he asks you the impossible. “I need you to invite Jungkook for the get-together on Friday.”

“Absolutely fucking not,” you spit. “Taehyung, my best friend, the platonic love of my life. I will do anything for you. Literally anything. I would suck your toes if you asked me, but I won’t do that.”

Now he laughs, loud and deep. It only makes you sulk more. Inviting Jeon Jungkook into your humble abode? To have him walk around with that smug—and delectably gorgeous—grin on his face as he finds something to make fun of? Not over your dead body. Not in a million years.

“Please, do it for me.”

You vigorously shake your head. “I don’t see how I would be doing you a favour by inviting him. You don’t even like him!”

“I mean...I really don’t mind him. But I like Jimin, a lot, and I feel bad for excluding his friend all the time, it’s starting to get weird. Can’t you just invite him over? I promise you won’t have to talk to him.”

Oh, but you do. Because Jungkook always manages to weasel under your skin and get you worked up to a point where you just have to say something. It’s not your fault that he’s such an ass. He just rubs you all the wrong ways. “I am in a constant state of wanting to rip his head off. I don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Jungkook is just so...You really cannot stand him. First of all, he doesn’t study. All he does is party and sleep around with random girls. Yet, he still somehow manages to be at the top of the class. Secondly, he’s a dick. He has no respect for both his elders and you. Any chance he gets he will make fun of you or blatantly insult you. And lastly, he looks too good and he knows it. Walking around campus just basking in the attention from all the girls, and guys, who want him despite his reputation.

Taehyung snorts. “If I were you, I would be more worried that you’re in a constant state of wanting to suck his dick.”

“I’d rather snap his dick in half.” Sometimes you wonder why you’re friends with Taehyung. After all, he’s the one who told Jimin to bring along his friend. Now, you’re regularly exposed to Jeon Jungkook’s incessant flirting with anything that breathes, constant whining about just about everything, and complete lack of personal space. Taehyung had been certain that if you got to know Jungkook outside of class, it would make you more amicable towards each other. However, it’s only made it worse.

“You know, sometimes people lie about something so often that they start to feel like it’s the truth.”

You roll your eyes, sitting up on the bed. It’s noon already. You really should be studying for your Psychology of Law exam. Also known as the course from hell. As a law student, you really can’t make sense of the material. All the mumbling about internal thought processes and stressors has your mind logging off. You’re chapters behind. You don’t even know where to start. Because unlike a certain someone, you actually have to study. Even with all-nighters, thorough summaries, and flashcards, you’ve still managed to fail quite a few classes. The future of your law degree literally balances on this one class. If you fail, you lose your scholarship.

“Are you still with me?”  Taehyung asks.

“Yeah, I’m just considering defenestrating myself. Anything better than studying for psych.”

“Even inviting Jungkook?”

“Anything but that.”  It’s not like Taehyung is completely wrong. Jungkook looks like a model when he actually decides to groom himself instead of showing up to class in sweats and uncombed hair. You’re way too aware that he works out five days a week. Or that he’s got tats lining his arm, intricate designs that—No. You’re not falling down this hole today.

Taehyung’s typing something up, probably studying for his own exams. “I will let you study then. Just please, invite him over. I will forever be in your debt. Be the better person.”

The sweet lining to Taehyung’s plea actually manages to work for once. He’s your best friend, after all. He would probably do the same thing for you. It’s just not that fun to be around Jungkook when part of you—as much as you may deny it—feels some type of way about him.

“I will consider it.”

“That’s not a no.”

“Don’t make me change it back to a no, Kim.”

He chuckles. “Someday, you will thank me. That day being the one when you finally come to terms with your feelings.”

“Bye, Taehyung,” you grumble, ending the call and throwing the phone down on the duvet.

So yes, maybe you do have a thing for Jungkook. Doesn’t make him any less annoying. If anything, it makes him even more insufferable. Why did you have to develop a weird crush on a guy you can’t even stand? The world doesn’t have to be cruel like that. But here you are. Not that it matters. Jungkook would sleep with just about any girl but you. Which says more about them.

Reluctantly, you get up and grab your books from your desk. Studying is easier in the living room, away from distractions.

Your peace doesn’t last long. Not even halfway through your first coffee, your doorbell rings.

Groaning, you get up and prepare your best ‘no I don’t want to buy whatever you’re selling’ face. Upon unlocking the door, that face falters.

“What the hell are you doing here?” you spit out the moment you see Jungkook’s big doe eyes. He’s standing on your doorstep like he’s supposed to be here. With his backpack nonchalantly slung over one shoulder.

He looks past you, into your apartment. “Oh, you started studying for psych?”

Your living room is a mess. “Well, I was trying to start, but I’ve been rudely interrupted by someone who has no invitation to be here.”

He rolls his eyes. “I’m here to make sure that you don’t fail another class and have to drop out.” Like he owns the place, he pushes past you and waltzes inside. He drops his backpack and readjusts his baseball cap, showing off his forehead and chocolate brown hair. It’s really starting to get long.

“I don’t need your help.” There’s no way he’s here just to help you study. And even if he was, he’s just going to distract you. You’re not friends. He must have some ulterior motive for being here. Jeon Jungkook doesn’t study, let alone help people study. Not to your knowledge at least. “I can manage just fine on my own.”

He grabs his laptop from his bag. “What part of ‘having to drop out if you fail another class’ did you not understand?” He puts the device down and gets comfortable on your couch. As if he’s done it before.

You cross your arms over your chest. “Who told you about that?”

He shrugs. “Jimin mentioned it, he must have it from Taehyung. Does it really matter?”

“Yes, it matters,” you sneer. “I didn’t ask you to be here. I don’t want you to be here. There’s no way I’m going to get anything done with you around. Get the fuck out.” You point a finger at the door, waiting for him to leave. “Do you not hear me?”

“Oh, I heard you. I’m just waiting for you to get over yourself and realise that you actually need my help.”

“I don’t.”

“Can you tell me the difference between compliance and suggestion in the context of a police hearing?” he questions, leaning back and propping his clunky boot-clad feet onto the table.

You press your lips together in a thin line, thinking about a possible answer.

He grins. “Any idea what the Reid Technique is and why it is or isn’t ethical?”

“No,” you grumble.

“You know what the pros and cons are of an Oslo style eyewitness lineup?”

You shake your head, dropping your arms in defeat. He’s got you. You don’t know anything. Maybe you do need his help. As long as he tries to be nice, you can give him the benefit of the doubt. Another year of your degree is definitely worth it.

Jungkook pats the spot on the couch beside him. “Let’s get started, we’ve got a lot of ground to cover if we want to get you a good grade.”

And so you get to work. Jungkook makes himself a little too comfortable in your home. Aside from pulling out his flashcards, multiple summaries and annotated materials, he actually slips into the kitchen to make tea. He raids your pantry for snacks and pulls out your blanket from under the table.

“What?” He says, mouth stuffed with gummy bears while he unfolds the blanket. “I’m sorry, but your apartment is really fucking cold. Since you’re dressed as if you’re going to the North Pole, I assumed the radiator must be broken.”

“It has been almost a week now. My landlord is being an ass about it. Also, I’m wearing normal clothes that normal people wear when it’s cold outside. Unlike you, with your short-sleeves and thin coat.”

“It’s October.”

“It’s nine degrees outside. You’re insane.”

“No,” he says, sitting back down with the blanket around his shoulders. “I’m just hot.”

A reluctant smile pulls at your lips. Why must you betray yourself?

He leans in close, inspecting your face. “I can’t believe I lived to see the day. You actually smiled at one of my jokes.”

If he’s good at one thing, it’s definitely proving that he’s an annoying shit. “I’m laughing at how pathetic you are.”

“At least I’m not the one who tried to hide her smile.”

“And I’m not the one who forced his way into this apartment. I’d watch out, some people might start to think you actually like being around me.” You turn back towards his laptop, scrolling through the document to the next topic. Police hearings.

Jungkook puts his hand down behind you so he can get closer—too close—and look over your shoulder. “Maybe,” he whispers, “I do like spending time with you.”

You whip your head around so fast you nearly knock heads with him. He doesn’t move. Both your noses basically touching. At this proximity you can see all the fine details in his skin. The flecks of lighter brown in his eyes that really do shine. The moles on his nose, the scar on his cheek.

“Nah.” He pulls away. “I’m just messing with you. I still don’t like you.”

What on earth did you do to make him come over here? If he dislikes you so much, he shouldn’t have bothered. You’re not a charity case. “If you’d just let me fail, you wouldn’t have to put up with me again.”

He tuts. “Where’s the fun in that? I’d honestly miss your bad comebacks and petty remarks.”

“Excuse me, my comebacks are not bad?”

“They’re mediocre at best, ma’am,” he laughs, grin showing the fullness of his cheeks that make him look deceptively cute.

You shiver at the thought. He’s a lot of things, but he’s not cute. Yes, he’s probably a good guy deep down, but he’s not cute. Jeon Jungkook is and always will be an annoying, self-entitled, arrogant brat. Nothing is going to change your mind. Not even the way your heart beats faster from just having him so close.

“Don’t ‘ma’am’ me,” you bite.

“I’m not even going to give you any points for that. You didn’t even try!” He makes an exasperated gesture as he grabs another handful of gummies.

‘Childish’ should be added to the list. “Are you here to help me study or not?”

Jungkook nods, sitting cross-legged. “Just so I get to bother you for another year.”

The two of you get back to work. He takes you through a very detailed and too dramatic explanation of the Reid technique. You find yourself captivated by how passionate he seems. He sure does know a lot about the subject.

Jungkook turns out to be a very active talker. He makes very detailed descriptions and uses his hands to explain things. It’s easy to understand him, but it’s way harder to memorise it. As the material gets more complicated, he gets more serious and you start to lose track. His frown deepens, dimple-like creases appearing in his cheek that make him look sharper and older. You can’t help but stare.

He’s so handsome. The tattoos that circle around his left arm shift as he speaks. The same way that his earrings dangle as he moves. You get caught up in him, the way he talks, the passion that rolls off him in waves.

“Are you gawking at me?”  He says, stopping his movements mid-air.

Cheeks flushed, you try to come up with a smart reply. “I was thinking whether your head has always looked this big.”

His lips pull into a straight line. “I’m here trying to do my best to explain to you what the difference is between an Oslo confrontation and a sequential lineup, and you’re worried about the size of my fucking head?”

“I mean, it’s awfully big, no?”  You poke his forehead.

He grabs your wrist in return, pulling your body towards him. “Can you at least try to appreciate my effort?”

“I’m listening!”

Wetting his lips, he arches an eyebrow. “Explain the difference to me.”

Well, you weren’t listening that intently. “Uh, a sequential lineup has a lower chance of causing false positives.”

“That’s the last sentence I said, you can do better.” He lets go of you so you can lean back. For a second, he actually seems pissed off. Maybe you should try, he’s doing his best after all. It’s just hard when he’s here looking this good.

“Oslo confrontations feature the suspects in a lineup at the same time, whereas a sequential lineup shows them one by one.” That’s all you got.

“Well,” he says, throwing you a gummy from the bag. “You got one point out of five.”

Treat halfway to your mouth, you stop. “One?!”

He nods. “And I’m being generous with you. First of all, you cannot call them suspects, they’re candidates or possible suspects. There’s usually only one suspect and the rest are actors who look like the suspect. You also missed the part where, during the sequential lineup, the witness doesn’t get to see all the suspects. Once they pick the one they think is the perpetrator, they will not get to see the additional candidates.”  Why does this sound so hot when he says it?

God, you’re going insane. “Well, I’ll try to remember that and the seven-hundred other things you said. All the blabbering you do makes it really hard.”  It comes out harsher than you intended. From the way Jungkook stays silent, you know it must’ve hit home.

He gets up, making your heart sink. “I think it’s time for a break. You’re getting frustrated. Do you want to order pizza?”

“I don’t recall asking you to stay over for dinner.”

Jungkook takes a long, deep breath, closing his eyes. You can feel the anger build up. “Listen, I’m here to help you. The least you can do is fucking appreciate it. Be stubborn all you want, but you need this. You want a shot at this degree. I’m here, because as much as I can’t stand you, I won’t enjoy watching you get kicked off the entire program because you’re struggling with the material.”  There’s a heavy pause. You let his words sink in. The level of concern is surprising. It’s sweet. “So do you want to order pizza or not? Because I’m starving.”

You nod. “Pizza sounds good.”

The tension ebs away after that. Jungkook goes into the kitchen and comes back with a mug filled with milk, of all things. You bite your tongue.

“I want pineapple on my pizza,” he says.

Pausing, you raise your eyebrows. “You cannot be serious.”

“Depends. How much do you hate pineapple?” His shit eating grin returned like it was never gone. It gives him away.

Narrowing your eyes at him, you speak; “So, double pineapple for you?”

Suddenly, his face falters. “Whoa, you can’t actually do that to me.”

“You’re the one who said he likes pineapple!”

“It was a joke. No person in their right mind would put fruit on their pizza.”  He sits next to you, taking another sip of his milk. “I’m really not picky though, but the one with the jalapenos is good. Or the chili chicken.”  Jungkook scoots closer so he can scroll through the menu on your phone, hand brushing against yours.

This way, you get a clear view of the rose tattoo on his hand. It’s beautiful, detailed but still in a traditional style. It suits him, as do his other tattoos. Though this one has always stood out to you.

“I’m just going to get pepperoni,” you say after a while.

Jungkook sighs, then turns his head to whisper in your ear; “Boring.”

Startled, you shove him so hard he falls onto his back. “Don’t be such a child. I’m not going to make you eat it.”

When he sits back up, his shirt rises and reveals the edge of a narrow, toned waist. You look away, focusing on actually ordering the pizza. Jungkook really doesn’t have to be so casually attractive. He’s not even trying and you can’t keep your eyes off him, noticing something new every minute. A good reason to not spend any more time with him after this.

“Gimme.” He plucks your phone out of your hands so he can order his own pizza. With the utmost concentration, he scrolls and types in some things. No doubt using your pre-set credit card to pay for it. “Wait,” he says, sitting up straight. “Whoa, you’re friends with Yoongi? As in Min Yoongi? The guy who won this year’s mock court?”

Gasping, you dart over to grab the phone from him. “Don’t go through my messages!” With one hand on your chest, he manages to keep the device out of your reach. “Jungkook!”

His eyes move over the screen, reading your messages with the third year law student. “Why didn’t you just ask him for help, huh? He seems to like you, and that’s something. I don’t think Yoongi likes anybody.”

You try harder to grab your phone from his hands. It must look insane, your body bent over his, him trying to find ways to hold you off and keep the phone out of your reach. Somehow, you end up squashed between his—way too strong—thighs.

“Jungkook give me my phone back!” you whine.

Something on the screen makes him raise his eyebrows. “Are you two like—you know? Cuz I’ve heard some stuff and—”  

You shake your head, getting uneasy with the fact that he’s really reading your personal messages. “I don’t like Yoongi like that.”

Jungkook lifts his leg, using his knee to push you back. He’s got way too much strength in his body. “Okay, but I’m not sure that he knows that. He’s not a nice guy, you should steer clear of him.”

“Oh, and you would know how? It’s not like you’re such a gentleman.” Again, you try to jump for your phone, but he stops you in time by grabbing your wrist.

Face serious, he holds your gaze. “I’m not kidding. We run in the same circles. He’s a total asshole, you don’t want to get involved with him. You can do better.”

That sure is a way to silence you. You frown, settling back into your seat as Jungkook keeps scrolling through the chat. “I’m not into him, but he’s been texting me for a while. I was in his group for mock court.” Finally, you get your phone back, but your stomach feels uneasy looking at it. Perhaps Yoongi’s messages are a bit forward.

“I don’t know Yoongi well enough to be able to say for sure, but I know enough to tell you that he doesn’t talk to girls like you because he wants to be friends,” Jungkook says with a hand lingering on your thigh.

Way to make you feel good about yourself, Jeon. “What does that mean, girls like me?”

His face changes, eyes wide.

“What are you trying to say?” you press.

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he leans forward onto his knees. “All I’m saying is that you don’t deserve to get played by some asshole who’s just trying to get into your pants.”

“Oh.” Is he being for real? He’s looking out for you? This is not how this is supposed to go. Jungkook shouldn’t be nice to you. He shouldn’t be helping you, or care about your wellbeing. He’s a dick and the two of you squabble and yell at each other. Yet, your chest warms at his words. Even if you weren’t looking to get together with Yoongi, it’s good to know he might have alternative motives. “Thank you.”

All he does is nod, before he grabs his laptop to resume where you guys left off. The awkwardness slowly dissipates as he takes you through the entire lineup thing again, just so you’ve got it down. After that you move onto the remaining subjects.

Today sure is strange. You never expected things to be so comfortable with Jungkook. Despite his exasperating personality and your on and off bickering, his presence is pleasant. It doesn’t take long for you to sink into the couch, drinking your third large cup of coffee.

Completely focussed on his monologue, you ask questions very sparingly, enraptured by him. You knew he was smart, he passes his classes with grades of 80% or higher for a reason. However, it’s different to see it in action.

Pizza arrives a little late, much to Jungkook’s dismay. Turns out he’s quite cranky when he gets hungry. He devours his pizza way faster than you can get through half of yours, and he’s quick to inch towards a slice from your box. You smack his hand away, reminding him of how he slandered you for your topping choice. He can have your leftovers from yesterday

“You call this pasta?” he questions in a disgusted tone, crouched down by the fridge

“Take it or starve. Your choice.”

He gets up, nose scrunched. “I’d rather starve, thanks. What exactly do you excel at? Since it’s not school, wit, or cooking.”

“Aim,” you spit, flicking a piece of pepperoni at him. It hits him straight in the cheek and you burst out into a fit of laughter. He stares at you in utter disbelief, removing the greasy piece of meat from his face. Tongue pressed to his cheek, he fights off his own smile—or an insult.

Eventually, he sits back down and goes over the remaining material while you eat. The end comes faster than you expected, his eyes darting to the clock.

“It’s getting late, I should probably go home.”

“What?” You pout. “How can you leave me to my own devices like this?!”

“Because I did what I could. I took you through all the material, now it’s up to you to try and memorise it. I’ve sent you my summaries and I’ll leave my flashcards here.” He grabs his things, meticulously stuffing them back into his backpack. With a heavy heart, you hand him his cap that had fallen to the floor.

Jungkook pushes his hair back, putting his cap on. He looks as nonchalant as he did when he came in. Backpack slung over one shoulder, hand shoved into his pocket. “Good luck. I’ll see you tomorrow morning.”

“Yeah, I guess,” you mumble. “Thanks.”

“I’m glad my presence was enjoyed.”

“Don’t get ahead of yourself, I only endured you because I want to pass.” Part of that is true. Though, he wasn’t as bad to hang out with as you had originally assumed. Maybe it’s because his friends aren’t around to show off to. Or because he genuinely wanted to help. Which is still weird. “Good luck to you too.”

He waves you goodbye, opening up the door, only to be met with a gust of wind. The sound of rain enters your apartment. Water plummets from the sky by the bucket.

“Shit,” Jungkook peers outside, hesitating in the doorway. “If I don’t show up tomorrow morning, please assume that I have drowned.”

You would’ve laughed at the idea of him getting soaking wet any other day. He came here to help you study and now he has to walk home through the rain. No doubt he’s going to catch a cold dressed the way he is. Maybe you should listen to Taehyung and be the better person for once.

Getting up, you pull him back inside by the string of his backpack. “You can’t go out when it’s like that, you’ll get sick.”

He turns with a smile. “As much as I would like to see you squirm a little longer, I need to study too.”

“You study?”

“How else do you think I get good grades? Eat books for breakfast?”

You shrug. “We can study together tonight?”

Stepping closer, Jungkook forces you back inside. Almost nose to nose. Your heart skips a beat when his breath fans over your face. “Is this just a lame excuse from you to spend more time with me?”

“No. But I can only imagine the tragedy that will befall me if you catch a cold because you were out here helping me study.” You poke a finger into his chest. A grave mistake, it’s way firmer than you’d thought. “If I let you stay over, you no longer owe me one.”

“I’m sorry, but it really sounds like you just want me to stay.” Jungkook inches closer, backing you against the couch.

You open your mouth to say something when your phone rings. Looking over to where it lies on the couch, you see Taehyung’s name displayed. He can wait. You glance back up at Jungkook, who’s nearly chest to chest with you, and also has his eyes locked on the phone.

Then, he grins.

You act fast, snatching the phone from the couch and declining the call before he even gets a chance to touch it. Taehyung really doesn’t need to know that Jungkook is here.

Jungkook himself, however, picks up on this. He chuckles lightly, arching his eyebrow. “Are you trying to hide the fact that I’m here?’”

“I wouldn’t say I was trying to hide it, but I really don’t need my friends to think I’m hanging out with you.”

Jungkook drops his bag in the chair again, curious glint in his eyes. “And why is that?”

“Because,” you start, crossing your arms over your chest. “I don’t want to be associated with the likes of you.”

“What am I now? A villain?”

“No, you’re a stuck up fuckboy who does nothing but party and sleep with random girls and yet somehow still manages to pass all his classes. You’re annoying, egotistical, insufferable, pushy, invasive and disrespectful.”  You let out a deep breath. Yeah, maybe Jungkook’s been nice to you today, but he hasn’t changed.

He rolls his eyes. “Well then. I’ll have you know that you are nothing more than an average, boring girl struggling to get by. You’re opinionated, crass, entitled, standoffish, a bad listener, impossibly stubborn and a bit of an airhead.”  The words leave him as if they mean nothing. “It’s not like I’d want to be associated with the likes of you either. But here I am, stranded because of the storm. So you, my dear, are stuck with me tonight. You did offer for me to stay over, after all.”

“Whatever,” you breathe, “let’s just try to study.”

The two of you return to your previous position on the couch, but now, he faces you. With the flashcards in hand, Jungkook reaches into his bag and pulls out a container filled with Maltesers.

The rules are simple. You take turns asking each other questions. If you get it right, you get a chocolate, you get it wrong the person who asked the question gets a chocolate. Easy enough, right? Now that you feel a bit more steady with the material, you should be able to answer some questions correctly. Even if it’s just to rob Jungkook of the satisfaction of eating the entire thing on his own.

Two questions in and the bickering starts. Jungkook’s whining because he’s cold and you can’t turn up the radiator. But since he was the one to leave the door open, it’s his fault that it’s so cold in here to begin with. You’ve long hogged the blanket for yourself and you don’t intend on sharing it. It’s the only barrier that’s keeping you from touching his feet.

“Please,” he pouts. “I’m so cold, you can’t let me freeze to death in this fucking igloo.”

You pull the blanket closer. “No. It’s mine.”

He whines. “Come on, it’s big enough for both of us. It’ll be warmer if we share.”

“No.”

“You do realise I could just take it from you by force.”

“You would not.”

He sits up straighter, putting a hand on the edge of the fabric. “I’m giving you the option now. Either you share, or I’m pulling it from your cold, grabby hands. If you’re just afraid to snuggle with me, you can just say so.”

In order to not admit defeat, you give up half of the blanket so he can shove his legs under it. He extends his legs way past his side of the couch, his feet touching your lower back. You have no choice but to fold one of your legs over his, the other extended by his side. Indeed, it’s warmer this way.

“Now, where were we?” He flips to his next card. “Ah, yes. Weapon focus effect.”

That one you remember clearly. “It’s when a witness’ attention was so focused on the weapon present at the incident that they fail to remember any significant details about the perpetrator. It’s an involuntary process that often leads to inaccurate descriptions of the attackers.” You definitely got that one, no doubt. It’s easy.

Jungkook throws you a chocolate. “Good job, you’re doing well. It seems you listened to what I had to say after all.”

“I mean,” you say, popping the chocolate into your mouth. “I didn’t have that much of a choice but to listen, now did I?”

“You were visually undressing me the entire time. I had assumed your mind was busy with...other things.” He’s doing it on purpose, trying to get some type of reaction from you. Instead, you just bite your lip, not knowing what to say. “Oh, was I right? Tell me, what were you thinking about.”

You let out a sound, throwing a pillow at him. “I wasn’t thinking anything. And I wasn’t undressing you.”

“No, you were thinking of how big my head was, right? Would it,” he pauses, lifting up the blanket to peer underneath, “fit between your thighs?”

“What is wrong with you!” You scream, hands covering your face that quickly turns red.

He laughs in return. “You’re so easily flustered. I’d almost call it cute.”

Peering through your fingers, you frown. “Almost?”

“Yeah, almost. Not quite, because you’re still you.”

In a surge of confidence, you sit up straight and grab the stack of cards again. Not looking at him as you speak. “How about, instead of imagining what I taste like, you tell me what a flashbulb memory is.”

Inches away from choking on his spit, Jungkook doesn’t manage to come up with a smart retort. He just answers your questions with pursed lips and distant eyes. It’s correct though, so you get to throw him a chocolate. Which of course, he catches with his mouth. Show off.

It goes on for another while, storm raging outside. With the winds turned, you can now clearly hear the pattering against your window. You can’t imagine what Jungkook would’ve done had he been walking through this storm. It’s only getting worse.

Time ticks by fast. Soon, Jungkook is left with one last flashcard in his hands. And you are determined to get that last chocolate. He smirks to himself, probably aware that you don’t know the answer to this. But if anything, you are determined to prove him wrong.

“Tell me,” he trails, “what is the difference between compliance and suggestibility?”

You know this. He’s explained it three times. So you’re confident in your next words. “Compliance is when a witness giving a testimony willingly accepts a suggestion but is aware that the suggestion is wrong. Suggestibility is when they believe that the suggestion is right and thus take it for the truth. Both are problematic, but suggestibility is harder to expose.”

Jungkook tuts. “You got them switched around.”

“Huh?! That can’t be right!”

“Sure is, the last chocolate is mine.”

You snatch the bag away before he can grab it. “I don’t think so. Let me see that card.”

“Are you accusing me of lying?”

“For chocolate? I sure am. Let me see.”  You crawl over to his side, squishing yourself between him and the couch. “Jungkook,” you whine when he covers the card with his hand, “let me see. My grade depends on this.”

He chuckles at you. “It does not. I’m confident that you will pass regardless.”

You try to pry the card out of his hand, but it’s no use. The grip he has on the thing is too strong. He manages to hold you down without even breaking a sweat. It’s a few beats before you can realise that you’re now entirely pressed up against him. You can feel the muscles in his thighs shift, the soft skin of his arm against yours

“Let me have the chocolate and I will show you,” he whispers.

Flushed, you stop struggling. “Whatever, I know I’m right.”

Jungkook then reveals the card to you, showing you that you indeed, were right. “I’m glad you’re finally confident in your abilities. That’s the key to passing a test.”

Has he really been testing you this entire time? That’s sure one way to do the trick. Without replying, you sink into his side. Silently enjoying his warmth. It’s comfortable to sit like this, now that it’s night and the apartment continues to get colder. You don’t mind, really. Inhaling slightly, you catch a whiff of his fresh floral scent. It’s mixed with a sharp edge that suits him well.

As Jungkook grabs the stack of cards you got wrong to revise them, you don’t move. The two of you just get comfortable like that. It’s easier to see the cards the way anyhow. You can just look at them together. Plus, you’re starting to feel a little sleepy and don’t want to move. He seems equally as content, just reciting the questions and explaining why you got them wrong.

“Okay so,” you say, pointing at something on the card. “It’s not so much an issue on the witness’ side as it is on the police’s?”

Jungkook nods, looking at you. “They’re the ones leading the witness. It’s not the witness’ fault that they take on their opinion.”

You hum, meeting his gaze. He doesn’t falter, almost as if he’s searching your eyes. “Something wrong?”you ask, voice hushed, goosebumps appearing on the back of your neck. There’s a mole right below his bottom lip which is plump and looks soft. His top lip is more defined, making for a cute pout. The more you look, the more you notice all his moles. On his nostril, his cheek, his ear.

“No,” he answers eventually. Voice strained. “I think you have a pimple growing between your brows.”

“Get lost!” You shove your elbow into his side, pulling a pained groan from him. “You’re so stupid.”

For a moment he’s quiet, just rubbing his side and shifting so he can get more comfortable. One of his legs falls off the couch, the other still between yours. “You really hate me, huh?”

At any other given moment, you would’ve replied with yes. But now, it’s laden. Is he asking you that seriously? It’s one thing to tell Taehyung you can’t stand him, or to yell it in his face when he’s being a brat, but you can’t literally say it to him like this. Why, you don’t really know. The expectant look makes your stomach tighten.

“Why are you saying it like that?”

He shrugs. “No reason in particular. Just because,” he gestures at your bodies, “it doesn’t seem like you mind being around me that much. If anything I’d say that,” he stops, leaning in close to your ear. You can feel the barely-there graze of his lips. “You like being around me.”

You bite your tongue, looking up to find his eyes darker than before. Cocking his head to the side, he awaits your answer. You’re not willing to give him the satisfaction. There’s no need to stroke his already big ego any more. Yes, this is more pleasant than you’d expected. Yes, he’s nice to be around. But... “You’re still a pain in the ass. Sorry.” With that, you had expected him to look away, but he doesn’t. His eyes flicker down to your lips, and back up to your eyes.

“So are you,” he teases, lips stretching into a lopsided grin.

Within a heartbeat, your lips are touching. Jungkook groans. You gasp, pulling him closer. Closed eyes, your heart beats a million miles an hour, revelling in the feeling of his mouth against yours. How soft his lips are. The trailing of his fingertips up your neck so he can crane your head back.

He comes to life, parting with a brief look into your eyes and a deep breath. Then, diving in full force. Jungkook kisses you like he’s been waiting to—like he’s hungry for it. You can barely believe that it’s happening, still trying to register that he’s actually kissing you. That it feels this good.

Your entire body kicks into gear when he bites at your bottom lip. Shifting your body to face his, you wrap a hand around the back of his neck. Returning his fervor, your mouths part and tongues meet in a desperate clash. Jungkook lets out a deep, guttural sound that makes you shiver. He’s skilled, tongue swiping over yours in a way that you can barely keep up with. Deliciously hot, just edging on sloppy. There’s no room for pauses, no time for thoughts.

Gaining purchase against the armrest, you swing a leg over his to sit in his lap. Jungkook’s leaning back still, pawing at your waist now that he’s got full access. You take full advantage of the position, crashing into him and devouring him. Biting at his lips, sucking his tongue into your mouth. The feeling is nearly euphoric paired with the rough, firm touches of his hands all over your body.

He touches anything he can find. Gripping onto your thighs and ass, slipping under your tank top and sweater to graze the skin on your back. Sparks erupt everywhere.

Mid-kiss, he sits up. Twisting so he can firmly plant both his feet on the found. It’s the angle he needs to pull you right against him. Your hips make contact and you moan. He’s not quite hard but he’s certainly getting there and the thought makes your head spin.

“Fuck,” you gasp, breaking away for air while he grids his hips up into yours. “Jungkook—”

“No talking,” he mouths against your jawline. “More kissing,” his voice is so  raspy that it’s barely recognisable. Almost a growl.

You push his cap off. Grabbing his face with both hands and kissing him firmly. Angling his head back the same way he had done to you. Kissing him is way better than you could’ve ever imagined. He’s rougher, stronger, harder against your body. You need more.

Slipping your hands under his shoulder, you lift it. Tracing the hard lines of his chest, feeling how he jumps under your touch. It empowers you, makes you bolder. Your fingers reach a pert nipple, brushing over it only to hear him moan in the back of his throat. God, he keeps on getting better and better. Sensitive it seems, as you roll the bud between your fingers. His hips buck up into yours. Fully hard at this point, he must start to get uncomfortable in those jeans.

Jungkook’s resolve with kissing you slows, needing air. He breaks away with a smirk, cheeks flushed and panting. Holding your gaze steady, he pulls his shirt over his head in one smooth motion. Revealing planes of unmarred skin and tattoos you had yet to discover.

You take no shame in staring, reaching out to trace the dream catcher on his shoulder. Moving along the lines of thread and feathers that reach his elbow.

“Like what you see?” he whispers, pushing you closer with a hand on your lower back just so he can kiss your neck. You shiver, legs spreading. Leaning your head back to give him enough room to mark you up. The thought alone makes you whimper. “What’s that?” he mumbles, licking a hot stripe up your throat.

Fingers digging into his shoulders, you grind down onto him. He moans in response. “Stop being so smug.”

Jungkook throws his head back, looking at you through his lashes as you gyrate your hips more firmly. His body on full display. “I don’t know, it seems like you’re into it.”

“For fucks sake, shut up and kiss me.”

He listens, capturing your mouth with his. Everything moves fast after that. Between tongues and mouths clashing, Jungkook rids you of your sweater. He kisses down your neck and throat, leaving marks and enjoying the way that you quiver for him. You’re soaking through your leggings at this point. Jungkook’s doing no better.

When he pulls away, you take the opportunity to kiss down his neck, collarbones and chest. To get off his lap and kneel between his legs. His eyes widen as you do so. A hand immediately comes up to push your hair aside, tipping your chin upwards. When he traces his thumb over your mouth, you part your lips and swirl your tongue around the digit and bite down, making him hiss.

Spreading his legs to accomodate you, he relaxes against the cushions. Just like little pricks on the edge of your consciousness, you feel the nerves. You question your skills when you undo his jeans and pull them down his legs. Yet, the hazy look in his eyes tells you that he’s going to like this no matter what. He all but arches into you when you palm him through his underwear. Rock hard and leaking through the fabric, you don’t want to wait any longer to finally get your mouth on him. To hear him moan for you.

So you reach past his waistband, foregoing any teasing and pull the fabric down. His cock slaps up against his stomach, making him hiss again. The sight is gorgeous. Jungkook with his head thrown back, hair a mess, chest heaving and flushed even though you’ve barely touched him. It’s satisfying to know you did that to him.

You sit down on your knees, holding him in one hand and go slow. Mouthing at him first, giving him just a taste of what’s to come. He doesn’t hold back for you, reddened lips parting with all the noises he lets out. When you take the tip into your mouth, he jolts—groans and reaches to anchor himself on your shoulder. You have one hand on his thigh, the other around the base. That way, you steady yourself when you sink down on him.

“Don’t—Fuck, keep going.” A gentle hand winds into your hair, guiding you further onto his cock. You’re not usually one to do this but, seeing him feel this good spurs you on. It makes you want to take all of him. You don’t stop when he hits the back of your throat, gag reflex kicking in. He moans at the feeling, so you try to swallow. “Shit, fuck, don’t do that. Your mouth,” he pants, “so good.”

Feeling his grip loosen, you pull up, taking a deep breath when you let him out of your mouth. Spit dribbles from your mouth to the head, tears sting at the corners of your eyes. You look up, giving him the full vision, and you don’t look away when you sink down again.

You’re so wet. Core aching but unable to find any sort of relief. You end up trying to grind your hips without any payoff. Meanwhile, you start a steady rhythm. Hollowing out your cheeks and using your tongue on the underside. It works. You have him moaning out your name in seconds. His hand tightens in your hair again, not to force you, but spurring you on to take him a little deeper each time. Right until your nose hits his stomach. You hold there, to let him feel the flex of your throat one more time. Just so he remembers it. Then you take your rhythm back up, a little faster, a little tighter. Your jaw starts to hurt, but it’s worth it. To feel his thighs start to tremble and his stomach clench. How he tightens his hold on your hair, moans pitching every time you pass your tongue right under the head.

Your lungs are burning, but you can’t help but feel addicted to him. Sucking him harder and feeling him near that edge. You dig your nails into his thigh, breathing in through your nose. Jungkook’s hip start moving just a little, enough to startle you.

“‘M close,” he moans. “Fuck, can I—in your mouth. Shit.” He runs a hand through his hair, browns furrowed deep. When he opens his eyes you shiver. His lids are heavy, pupils blown and cheeks red. Just like his lips—he sinks his teeth into his bottom one when you resume.

He takes it as a yes, unable to stop his hips from pushing up. You let him take control, holding yourself still, hands on his thighs. Jungkook’s breathing picks up, moans mixing into one drawn out sound. You meet his eyes, mouth stuffed with his cock. That’s all he needed. He twitches and cums into your mouth. The taste is bitter and harsh on your tongue. You close your eyes, focused on the feeling of his body trembling. You’re the one who did that to him.

When he lets you go and you pull off him, he gives you a fuck-out yet expectant look. A cocky arch of his eyebrow when he sees your bulged cheeks. Waiting for you to swallow.

Instead, you reach for his mug that sits on the edge of the table and spit into it. Flinching at the leftover taste.

Jungkook nudges you with his knee. “Why are you like this?”

You set his cup down and reach for your own, take a big gulp of now-cold coffee. “I’m not swallowing your jizz.” The thought of doing that alone makes you want to puke.

“Don’t call it that.”

Rolling your eyes, you stand up on wobbly legs. “I just had it in my mouth, so I can call it whatever I want.”

Jungkook mimics your eyeroll. “Fine.” He pats your thigh. “Pants off.”

“What?”

He lies down on the couch. Surely he doesn’t expect you to ride him after you just fucked up your throat for him? What an ass. “You heard me, naked now. Chop chop.” He motions for you to hurry up and you just give him a blank stare. “Ugh, come here.”  Jungkook sits up just slightly again and pulls you closer by your waistband. He gives you a brief look. “Unless you don’t wanna get naked?”

You chuckle, pushing at his hands to get him to slide your leggings off. A hand slips between your thighs to touch you. Rubbing you through the fabric, your knees nearly buckle. He’s nonchalant about it, lying back, eyes focused between your legs. Yet, he’s too accurate, easily finding his target.

“Jungkook,” you whine, grabbing onto the back of the couch.

He smirks. “Let’s take these off too.” The snap of your panties to your hip pulls you back. You shove them down, taken aback by the feeling of a hand grabbing your thigh. You’re about to question him, when he scoots further back on the couch and lifts your leg past his body. “Have a seat.”

Mind absolutely blank, you let him guide you to sit over his face. You’re dripping and he can see it—feel it probably from the way you just grazed his chest. A small moan leaving your lips when he reaches up to kiss your stomach.

“Don’t be shy,” he chuckles. “I’ve got you.”

You shift forward, holding onto the back of the couch. His hands come up to your thighs, pulling you even higher so he can slot his mouth onto your core. You can’t help but moan.

Noisy. Jungkook is so noisy. He sucks your lips into his mouth, teethes at them until you’re shaking. You struggle to hold your hips still, the need to grind into him too strong. And he does nothing to stop you. No, he urges you on. Looking up at you with those big eyes and nodding against you. Jungkook opens his mouth, tongue darting out to tease at your clit just briefly. Then, the reigns are all yours.

He holds you by the hips so you can hesitantly start moving. You shiver. It feels so good; the wet warmth of his mouth against your core. He follows you, hands pawing at your thighs, hips, and ass. With eyes closed, Jungkook eats you out like he’s been dying to do it. There’s no teasing, no playing—he’s straight to the point. You move over his tongue as he sucks on your cunt, nibbling and flicking whenever he gets the chance. Anything else is irrelevant. The sight of his head blissed out between your thighs is all you can focus on.

The pleasure spikes, shooting up your spine and filling you with warmth. It’s embarrassing how fast he gets you on the edge. How good he is. The way he occasionally stops you to take that bundle of nerves between his lips and suck on it until you’re screaming—it’s mind blowing. Your entire body is on fire, sweat drips down your back. His name falls from your lips in cries that echo throughout the room. Louder than the storm raging against the window.

“Jungkook, I’m—” you pant, unable to finish your sentence with the moans that he pulls from you. Incapable of thinking from the second he swirls his tongue around your entrance and presses inside. You halt all your movements. Nails dug deeply into the couch, you reach for his hair with your other hand. He moans when you grip it tightly, his own fingers tightening around your hips. “Don’t stop.”

He alternates between fucking his tongue into you and sucking on your clit. The intensity is almost too much. The irregularity keeps you on your toes and has you nearly teetering over the edge. You just need to—Jungkook reaches behind you and plunges two fingers into your sopping core. The sensation of being filled along with his tongue flicking over you has your eyes rolling back. Everything goes white.

You double over on the couch, unable to keep yourself up and smothering him in the process. Trembling in his hold, he helps you slowly ride out your high. Short, gentle movements against his mouth. The rocking of your hips is as involuntary as the way your body keeps shaking when he lets you go. Breath high in your throat, you chuckle.

“Good god.” You fall down when he slips out from underneath you.

As you twist towards him, Jungkook wipes his mouth with the back of his hand, crawling over you. All your limbs still feel like jelly, your mind swimming. “Yeah, that good?”

You hum, eyes closing. Wanting to lie down, you turn on your back, hearing a sharp thud.

“Shit,” Jungkook gasps. He’s grasping his chin with a laugh.

A few seconds pass before you feel the soreness in your knee. “Ugh, I’m so sorry,” you whine, reaching up to touch him. But he has other plans. Jungkook surges down smiling, pressing your mouths together for the first time in what feels like hours. The stickiness on his face doesn’t go unnoticed. The reminder that he just ate you out, that he’s the one who made you cum that hard. You moan when you taste yourself on his tongue.

He kisses you deeply, smiling against your mouth. You finally get rid of your tank top, now fully naked. He mouths over your chest, twisting your nipples, spreading your legs so that he can fit between them. Pressing himself against you, hard and waiting. “Can you go again?” he asks, pulling away and searching your eyes.

You still feel floaty, but the sensation of his hard cock pressing against your thigh has you quivering. “Yeah.”  You’re aching to feel him inside, so you tilt your hips up towards him. Spreading your legs wider and inviting him.

“Wait,” you blurt, eyes flying open and pressing a hand against his chest. He stops with his hand around his dick, just about ready to slide home. “Condom.”

Jungkook curses, looking around the room. He locates his jeans that lie in a pile with his shirt and boxers. The fact that he’s actually got a condom in there is uncanny.

“You’ve got to be kidding me?”  You joke.

He shrugs. “I wore these jeans while going out last night.”

“You’re disgusting!” You slap his arm lightly, but he just chuckles in return. He knows just as well as you do that you’re waiting for him to fuck you. The clenching of your core attests to that.

No time is wasted, Jungkook puts the condom on and lines himself up. “You good?”  

You nod. “Just go slow.”

The slight oversensitivity just makes it feel even better. He stretches you out so perfectly. You feel every inch, every stutter of his hips as he goes deeper. Way deeper than you’d expected. Until his hips meet yours and he curses, burying his face into your neck.

“You feel good,” he mumbles, kissing your skin.

“You too.” Trailing your fingers up his back, you wait for your body to adjust to him. To feel yourself relax and pull for more. That tell-tale need for movement, friction. Jungkook holds steady, hips barely moving. “Go,” you say when your stomach clenches. “Move. Fuck me like you mean it.”

Jungkook growls, grasping onto the couch. Pulling out and slamming back in full force. You slide up the cushions, so fast you grasp onto him for support. Fingernails digging into his back, legs wrapping around his waist, you keen at the pleasure. Each thrust is better than the last. Harder, more precise.

Your back arches off the couch, mouth agape. Pleasure is constant, like your body is vibrating with it. Jungkook mouths at your neck, sucking, biting—teeth playfully tugging at your ear just to whisper something dirty that you can barely comprehend. Your mind can’t make sense of anything but his dick pumping inside of you. His hips slapping against yours and his mouth against your skin.

Until he kisses you. His mouth messily connecting with yours, movements slowing. With a hand on your ass, he hikes you up the couch, angling your body so that he can press your legs to your chest. Just like that, he picks up. Starting off slow, still kissing you, tongue laving over yours almost sweetly. You shiver, the slow drag of his cock as delicious as the harsh assault. He changes angles, just a hair, but it’s enough for him to graze that part inside of you that makes you see stars.

Throwing your head back, you moan. Fingers sliding through the sweat on his back, up to tangle into his hair, gripping tight. He groans. Head falling onto your shoulder, hips stuttering against yours.

“You like that?” you whisper into his ear, tongue darting out to flick at a pierced lobe.

He nods, teeth sinking into your shoulder as you pull hard. Hips picking up, chasing the pleasure.

Hearing him moan like that. So unabashed and loud, only adds to your pleasure. Toes curling, you close your eyes and let your head fall back. Hips meeting him thrust for thrust, helping him reach even deeper inside of you. To hit that spot every single time. Jungkook has perfected that balance between smooth and hard. Never slamming rough enough to jolt you, yet firm enough to make you capable of sounds you were unaware of. Rhythmic, never stopping or slowing. So constant you can’t do anything but fall into motion with him.

Bodies syncing up. Hands finding places to touch.  Nipples, lips, thighs, waists, hair. He is holding you spread open for him, your thighs starting to ache. But it’s worth it, because soon, you feel the pleasure spike.

Your stomach tightens, tingling at the base of your spine. “Jungkook,” you moan.

He answers by looking up, lips bitten red and parted.

“Can you,” you can’t finish the sentence, moaning and closing your eyes. Tapping his hand on your thigh is enough though. He releases you, instead pulling your legs around his waist. Closer like this, his chest slides over yours. It gives you just enough space to reach between your bodies and touch yourself.

He looks down at the sensation, cursing at the sight of your fingers playing with your clit while his cock slides in and out of you. The angle doesn’t let you do the same, but you can hear the slick slide clearly. You can feel it dripping down your ass.

The added pleasure is enough to put you on the edge, fast. “I’m gonna—Jungkook!” you yelp when he leans down and sucks a nipple into his mouth. “Fuck.” One hand between your bodies, the other holding his hair.

In seconds, your high hits you. Hard. Your entire body locks up, so much that Jungkook lets out a strangled moan. Fluttering around him he joins you in your peak. Thrusts stilling, pressed deep inside of you. He spills into the condom as you rut your hips, still coming down.

Spent bodies collapse onto the couch, Jungkook refusing to pull out immediately. He’s basking in the feeling of your aftershock, walls still clenching ever so slightly. You can’t blame him. It feels good. Having him inside of you as he lies down, pulling your hips against his, kissing you. His mouth is tender, laving over yours without much hurry. A hand combing through your hair, softly humming, smiling.

He finally pulls out, leaving you feeling empty and slightly sore. Grunting, he ties the condom and makes a show of throwing it into the same mug you used earlier. It makes him grin.

“I’m throwing that mug out.”

“You really don’t have to.”

“Oh, I really do. It’s been tainted beyond remedy. I’m not drinking from that, ever again.”

Jungkook presses his nose against your temple, still grinning like a fool. “You’re so weird.”

You snort. “Says the guy who just three-point shot a condom into a mug full of cum.”

No reply follows, only comfortable silence. Jungkook and you just lie like that for a while. Bodies coming down, breaths evening out, enjoying each other. Slightly sticky with sweat, you let him grab the blanket and throw it over you. Your heart swells.

Could it be possible that you’re not the only one who feels something more? Deep down, you’ve always known he’s not just an asshole. You’ve just never seen that side of him before today. All this time you’ve tried to ignore it. To not let yourself fall for that trap. A guy like him isn’t supposed to be good. Yet, maybe you were wrong about him. And maybe, he feels the same way about you.

Taehyung isn’t gonna let you hear the end of this, but you can’t help but wonder if there is an opportunity for more between you and Jungkook?

“You know,” he says after a while, “We should definitely do this again.”

Your heart shatters. That’s it. Reality crashing down on you. Of course Jungkook doesn’t feel anything for you. He’s just out for sex and you should’ve known.

You scramble up from the couch. Jungkook sputters out something you can’t quite catch, trying to grab a hold of you. “Don’t touch me,” you spit. “I can’t believe you.” Grabbing your panties and pulling them on alongside your sweater, you put distance between the two of you. “Is that what I am to you? Just another cunt to fuck?”

Jungkook’s hastily putting on his boxers, standing up, eyes wide. He opens his mouth, but you don’t care to listen.

“That’s why you were really here, right? To get into my pants. That’s why you had the condom on you.” It’s all falling together now. How could you have been so stupid? “All the fucking whining about Yoongi, but you’re no better than him.”

“Stop,” he rushes, shaking his head. “Listen to me—“

“Don’t!” you call when he reaches for you, grabbing you by the wrists and forcing you to look at him. You try to wriggle away, but he’s holding you steady.

“Listen,” he tries again. “I—“

You shove at his chest. “Let me go, Jungkook. Fucking let me go.”

He obeys, arms falling limply beside his body. Expression going soft when he sees you’re crying. “Please hear me out.”

“No, Jungkook. You don’t get it. I have feelings for you. Real, non-sexual feelings. I don’t just want to be another girl on your checklist.” There it is. Out with the truth. Your breaths come out short and ragged. Harshly wiping your tears, you grab your leggings off the floor. Jungkook just stares at you. “I was stupid to fall for this act.” It’s true. He doesn’t date. Sex. That’s it. You should’ve known, you should’ve protected yourself. Should’ve never let him weasel his way into your heart.

Jungkook deflates, head falling, hair shielding his eyes. “I’m sorry that you think of me this way.”

What a pretentious prick. “Forget it Jungkook, I’m not buying it.” You look outside, rain still pouring down the window. “You know where everything is. I want you out before sunrise.” You turn your back on him and storm into your bedroom, slamming the door closed.

The contents of your cabinet click, something falling to the floor. Your tears only get worse. Feeling the cold of your room wrap around your worn out body. To feel the remnants of him still cling to your skin. The marks, the soreness, and the scent. God, you’re so dumb. You want to call Taehyung, to hear his voice and have him comfort you. But it’s two in the morning and his sleep schedule is shaky enough as it is.

So you just opt for a shower, stripping and getting under the hot spray to wash away whatever you can. You douse yourself in your favourite clementine scented body wash. But it does nothing to clean the fresh tears. Nothing can. The realisation that your feelings for Jungkook had gone way past crush hurts. You let your guard down and he drove a knife into your back.

Sleep, you think. You need sleep. You need to rid yourself of these thoughts and feelings. Wake up tomorrow and just pretend like this never happened. Even if you know it’ll be evident. You can pretend.

You dry off and brush your teeth. Three times to be precise. Ending up in bed wrapped in your favourite teddy sweater, warm and cosy. Your chest still aches with tears that no longer fall. Heart heavy. Like you miss him close to you.

There’s not much you can do but close your eyes and will your mind to shut off. You don’t want to think about him anymore.

The creaking of your door opening startles you right as you’re drifting off. He better be joking. You refuse to move, holding tightly onto the blanket, hoping that he’s just checking in on you and will leave. You hear the door click closed, and then the bed dips.

You hold your breath. Jungkook doesn’t speak. He lifts the covers so he can scoot under them and pull you against his chest. It’s not a tight hold, but it’s there. A strong arm draped over your waist, legs grazing yours as you pretend to be asleep. The feather-light gaze of his lips against your neck makes fresh tears appear in your eyes.

“Jungkook,” you croak.

He shushes you. “I know you’re upset with me. I just don’t want you to be alone when you’re feeling like this. We can talk in the morning—if you want. For now, just get some rest.”

It’s true. You shouldn’t be alone, crying yourself to sleep. Even if he’s the one that caused it. You just don’t want to let yourself trust the gesture. He’s probably trying to make you feel less angry. Even if it doesn’t work, it’s appreciated, ill intent or not. Having someone here is calming, letting you fall into an unruly slumber.

The next morning, you wake up in his embrace. Closer, back pressed to his chest. His nose nuzzles into your hair. It’s so nice. Warm. Soothing. He’s a good cuddler.

Then, your entire body stiffens. The previous night coming back to you in flashes. Your bodies entwined on the couch, moans bouncing off the wall. You swallow tightly, lifting his arm.

“Hey,” Jungkook whispers. He must’ve already been awake, reaching for your hand and giving it a small squeeze. “Should I go?”

Yes. “No,” you mumble. You need answers. To make the story whole before you force him out of your life for good.

“Do you want to—”

“Why do you always act like such a dick around me?”

Jungkook takes a deep breath. “Because you won’t give me the time of day otherwise.”

You still, practically holding your breath so that you can hear every word.

“Every time I’m nice to you, you pretend like I don’t exist. When I push your buttons,” he sighs, “that’s when I get your attention.”

Attention? He wants your attention? Your mind’s running circles, afraid to turn around and see the look in his eyes and get swayed. Feel remorse for the pain you hear lined in his voice. That you can feel in the trembling of his hand encasing yours.

“Can you at least say something?” he asks.

“I don’t know what you want me to say.”

He sits up, the mattress shifting and your eyes closing tightly.  “Sit up, please.”  Grabbing your arm, Jungkook gets you to reluctantly sit up and face him. Though you won’t look at him, eyes on your knees that nearly touch his. You notice that he’s still in his boxers, but he’s at least wearing a shirt. He doesn’t force you to look at him when he starts speaking again. “I want to be honest with you.” He toys with the edge of your sheets. “But if you’re not going to listen to the whole story it’s not worth telling you.”

Your heart hammers. Tears threaten to fall. Taking a deep breath gives away your nerves. You want to tell him he can’t ask that of you. That he doesn’t deserve that. But if there’s even a slight chance of a misunderstanding—something your heart hopes for—you have to hear him out. Even if it’ll hurt. “Okay.”

“Thank you,” he mumbles. He’s nervous too. Breath shaky like his body, nearly curled in on himself. You never thought you’d see him this vulnerable. “Honestly, when I first met you, I was intrigued by you because I couldn’t have you. You just held up your nose every time I as much as looked your way. It made me want to know more about you. And the moment I did, it was over for me. I realised that you’re not just opinionated, crass, and entitled. You’re smart, a hard worker, and you’re such a good friend.”

You finally dare to look up. To see the desperate look in his eyes as he pauses. Shocked.

“I admire you,” he whispers.

“What?” you blurt. “You’re the one with the straight A’s, not me.”

He shakes his head in defeat, biting his lip and looking away. “The only reason I’m getting straight A’s is because I’ve taken these classes before. I’m not like you, I don’t work hard. I should be studying like you.”

You frown. “What do you mean, you’ve done them before? Do you already have a law degree?”

Jungkook avoids your eyes. “When I got out of high school at the age of seventeen, I got into a big university with a scholarship. The full ride. But I was stupid,” he croaks. “I wanted to fully enjoy the college ride. So I studied just enough to get by and dedicated the rest of my time to partying.” He says it like he’s disgusted with himself. Muscles in his neck tightening as he swallows impending tears. “I got arrested for underage drinking and lost the entire scholarship. Everything I had worked so hard for, down the drain.”

The words leave him pained, the regret for his past decisions clear in his eyes. Yet, he’s still here, studying this degree you know most students can’t afford. You have a scholarship too.

“So yeah,” he breathes. “I wish I had a little more discipline like you. I admire that you’re able to put school first. As much as I pretend to hate you just to get your attention, I like being around you. You’re a positive influence on people, including me.”

“So it’s my fault? For judging you?”

Jungkook’s eyes widen. “No, not at all. As I said, I was being an ass on purpose because I was curious about you. But when I got to know you,” he cocks his head to the side, “feelings happened. I just couldn't find a way to show you the better sides of myself. Which is partially why I showed up yesterday.”

“Huh,” you frown. So he did have ulterior motives? “How does that change anything? You still showed up here to sleep with me.” He’s talking in circles. You feel remorse for him, but you tell yourself to stay strong. His past doesn’t excuse his actions.

“I really wasn’t planning on sleeping with you. I wouldn’t do that to you. There just was no other way to get you to spend time alone with me. I wanted to show you a better side of me, hoping that you’d realise I’m not all bad and maybe would give me a chance.” A chance to what? “I like you,” he adds when you don’t respond, “a lot.”

What? He can’t be serious. After everything that happened.

“But I also care about you. I like being around you—bickering included. I genuinely wanted to help. I know how hard it is to start again, I didn’t want to see you go through that.”

You go silent. Trying to think over his words and not see the bad. To believe that he means it. He did help you after all. He studied with you for hours, never insinuating anything sexual. He was nice, comforting and believed in you. You never asked for any of that. And after all, you kissed him too. You could’ve stopped it. If he had just wanted sex, he wouldn’t be here.

But he is. “Jungkook, I’m so sorry,” you say, grabbing his hand.

“I’m the one who’s sorry. For making you feel used. I should’ve just been honest with you.” Jungkook laces your fingers together. “I know it was a dick move on my side to sleep with you. I shouldn’t have said what I said.”

“I played as much of a part in it as you did. So let’s just—how about we call it even. Bury the hatchet?” You cock your head to the side, rubbing your thumb over the back of his hand. It won’t be easy, you’ll need to do a lot of thinking, but your heart wants to forgive him. To see more of his gentler side.

He nods, lifting up your hand and pressing his lips against your knuckles. “Sounds good to me.”

The two of you get up after that, even if it’s a little awkward. It’s weird to not be bickering with him. You’re surprised that he actually cleaned the living room last night. There’s not a trace of him left aside from his clothes that are carefully folded on the table. Even that mug is gone.

“What do you want to eat?” you ask, reaching to the top shelve for another mug.

Jungkook comes closer. “Just coffee is okay for now.”

You turn, almost bumping into his chest, blushing heavily. Now that he knows you have feelings for him, he’s enjoying himself just a little too much. Smiling at you while you’re making coffee and some cereal for yourself. You eat in silence, browsing through your phone.

It’s when you get up to clean, that Jungkook speaks again.

“Hey,” he says, grabbing you back by the waist.

“Hi?” You turn around in his grip.

“You know,” he starts, hand coming up to brush your hair behind your ear. “As much as I regret what I said yesterday, I did mean it.”

“What?” You chuckle lightly. “You want to do that again?”

He nods, and you catch a faint redness dusting his cheeks. “I do, a lot of times, if you want.”

You laugh, twisting away from him to put the dishes in the sink. “If that is your way of you asking me to be your girlfriend, Jungkook, then I must say you’re not quite hitting the right angle. Seeing what happened yesterday.” He can’t seriously be thinking you just want him for sex after all that. You start cleaning, even if it’s just to avoid having to look at him and admit that you’re shy. Thinking about what happened last night—the good parts.

Sighing, he turns off the tap that you had just turned on.

“Hey!” You turn it back on, only to have him shut it off again. “What do you want?”

“I’m not saying that I want you to be my girlfriend. I don’t think I’m ready for that just yet.” He leans in, brushing his nose against yours, searching your eyes like he’d done the night before. Like he’s waiting for permission.

You couldn’t resist him even if you tried. So you kiss him, just briefly. “Then what are you ready for, big boy?”

He laughs. “For starters, I would love to take you out for dinner after the exam that’s in,” he looks up at the clock, “six hours.”

You groan, throwing your head back. “Don’t remind me.” It’s probably a wiser decision to take some time to think. See how you feel about this, but dinner won’t hurt. “I will still need some time to think about,” you gesture between you two, “whatever this is.”

“Oh,” his face falls. “Yeah, I get that. I just thought that—since you said you have feelings for me too.” Jungkook pouts. He fucking juts out his bottom lip and you haven’t seen anything more endearing in your entire life. Your heart does a weird little flip, and you know that you’re a goner. Even more so than you had been before last night.

Now you know that he is good. That he is worthy of a chance. So why not give it? Why would you sit around and let your mind think all sorts of negative things about him if you can give him the chance to prove to you that he’s a great guy. As he said, it’s just a date. Not a label. Yet.

When he turns away, you pull him back by his hand, slamming your lips to his. He grunts, both hands coming up to thread through your hair. The kiss isn’t deep. It isn’t anything like the way you kissed last night. It sweeps you off your feet, so tender and warm. When he pulls away, you’re out of breath and you can see the adoration in his eyes. You hope he can see it in yours.

Then, he pinches your butt.

You push at his chest. “Thanks for reminding me that you’re still an annoying brat.”

He chuckles, giving you a peck on the lips. “But you like me that way.”

“Sadly,” you grumble, winding your arms around his neck. “I do.”

Thanks to: @/fallinforkoo @knjkitten​ @yoongs-jeontae​ @wintaejk​ @guksweet​ @rynofpentacles​ @mikroparadise​ @jeonggukkiepabo​ @softlyjiminie​ Requested by: @/fallinforkoo + @hornyjailbonk​ + 3x Anonymous Taglist: @jiminskth​ @teresaisla​​ @yeontanie21​​ @tessanator97​​ @ladyartemesia​ @dayjeons​​ @djasheyash99​​ @the-rise-of-bangtan-boyz​​ @bbangtanlove95​ @zeharilisharaban​ @jungkooksgoodgirl​​ @topanga27​​ @pjmochii​​ @iwanttohitmyself​​ @veryuniquenamegoeshere​​ @bel-abysse​​ @jiminsreads​​ @jungkookspromise​​

© GguksGalaxy 2020 This is a work of fiction and is in no way meant to give an accurate representation of the idols included. Please do not steal, copy, redistribute or take uncredited inspiration from my work. 

[starvine]

first date headcanons

attack on titan (modern au)

summary: some first date headcanons with some of the attack on titan characters. 

warnings: none, just fluff :)

eren jaeger: movie 

a little basic but it’s all eren could come up with

besides, it was between a movie and dinner and dinner felt too formal so y’all decided on a movie

he’d let you pick the movie tho

he might argue with you if it’s something stupid and claim that it’s horribly written (as if he knows a thing) but that’s it

eren would make sure to get the BEST snacks. spicy food? check. candy? check. popcorn? check. fruits? check.

he just wants to impress you (even if he did have to confide in his friends for some advice)

he just really likes you

during the movie, you guys would start shifting closer to each other, both a little too timid to move all the way all at once

but you guys would make commentary throughout the movie, laughing when things seem too cliché or when a character says something funny

half way throughout the movie, you guys aren’t even really paying attention it it

you’re too busy throwing popcorn at each other and trying to catch it in your mouths, feeding each other candy, and giggling at each other

it’s intimate in its own relaxed way, which makes eren realize how perfect you are

you both could make the most out of a pretty average first date situation and make it into a beyond amazing first date

and that was all he needed to ask you on a second date before he dropped you off at your car, walking with you to make sure you got there safely

and ngl you’d be a bit of a fool to say no to eren

armin arlert: aquarium 

sweetheart is so nervous 

before he came to your apartment to pick you up for your date, he was a little nervous wreck 

he was fidgeting with his fingers, playing with the buttons on his shirt--he probably accidentally opened one by accident 

but once he saw you, he felt fine 

it was as if he physically melted, you just make everything okay 

once you guys got to the aquarium, he would NOT shut up

he was probably pointing things out, telling you fun facts, asking you what is your favorite marine life 

“oh, you like pufferfish? that’s cool! i like them too. they’re very... puffy.” 

he’s like a child in a candy store 

but while he’s rambling about how the digestive system of a sea cucumber basically cleans the ocean, he’s wondering how he should make a move 

he doesn’t want to scare you off or anything, but he doesn’t want you to be disappointed 

but while you guys are looking at one of those large fish tanks, the ones where you walk through a tunnel, you guys just sort of stand there and watch in awe

or rather armin watches in awe while you look at him, a soft smile gracing his pink lips as his eyes dart across the illustriously blue colored glass

and when he feels your pinky latch onto his, he’s a little shocked that you had made the first move

he didn’t not expect it per say, he just thought that he would be the one to make the first move 

but his overthinking got in the way

and when he turns to look down at your intertwined pinkies, he caught you sending him a delicate smile that made his heart squeeze until he felt as if every part of him was on fire

but it was him who finally held your hand fully 

he just needed you to give him the extra push

mikasa ackerman: book store 

it’s a very calming atmosphere, which is something you’d both need for this first date

mikasa is probably pretty anxious for the first date, and wants to make sure you’re okay and enjoying yourself while also making sure she’s okay and enjoying herself

so the calming scent of the book store and the quietness is perfect for her to multitask between mediating the two

you’d both be tasked with picking each other books and then buying them for each other

so initially mikasa was nervous because she wasn’t sure what to get you but then you asked what she liked to read and so that allowed her to ask the same, making the situation less stressful

and all while you two are walking from isle to isle, eyes scanning the various book titles and covers, she sneaks glances at you and how pretty you look

and the fact that you seem very deep in thought, heavily concentrated on getting her the right book, makes her feel less concerned on whether or not you’d rather be with her or not

the answer is obviously a yes but mikasa has a hard time understanding that sometimes

so when you give her the book you bought for her, making sure to lightly touch her fingers while you hand it to her, she already knows that another date is what she wants you both to have or else she’ll probably explode

and based off of how flushed she looks, the possibility of her exploding is not highly unlikely

you guys will sit at this little table in the corner of the store, reading your books

i can picture mikasa annotating certain lines that remind her of you, making mental notes to show you later

overall, the date is pretty lowkey and very sweet

connie springer: dave + busters/bowling

ok there’s not much of an explanation for this one besides the point that if feels right

like connie is pretty energetic and i feel like you can learn a lot about a person based off of the games they’re drawn to 

hence the arcade

i think connie really likes those racing games or the zombie shooting games

he also claims he’s really good at ski ball (he’s not, he’s trash)

so a good portion of the date consists of you just laughing at him the whole time cuz in all honestly he’s not the best at games but he enjoys them for the fun of them

he’d definitely cheer you on when you were playing or try to mess you up if it was you two against each other

but either way he’d give you a hug or a pat on the head after every game

even if u beat him

he’d probably try to sneak a kiss when you guys were in one of those shooting games that requires a booth and the curtains drawn (does that make sense?)

it’s not really romantic like at all, especially since it smells like a million different people in there, but it’s very low stress so in all honesty that’s what makes the kiss nice

and after you guys had used up all your tokens, you’d combine your tickets and pick something together

your prizes would mostly consist of candy and him insisting he get you a plastic gem ring so you can always remember your first date together

it was also his little, strange way of asking you for a second date

levi ackerman: art museum 

unlike connie, he’s not super energetic

so a museum is right up his alley

levi’s a bit awkward, he doesn’t really know how to talk to you

and especially since you’re lovely, his words jumble together and he gets all flustered

so a nice, quiet museum exhibit is perfect for him

it’s a nice balance between casual and formal, so you both dress nice but aren’t restricted by the need to be super polite and stuff

he’d probably like it when you try to imitate the poses that are shown in the paintings or sculptures

just imagine the soft chuckle he’d be unable to prevent from escaping his lips which then melts into a soft smirk

beautiful, beautiful lad

he probably wouldn’t join you though, he doesn’t want to embarrass himself

he just smiles at you and stares at the art, reading the background info they give on those little plates near them

but he would notice when you stare at him

he could be looking at some art made during the dutch golden age, but as soon as your head slightly tilted in his direction, his cheeks would HEAT up

you almost asked him if he was feeling alright he was so red

but as the date went on, levi really just thought about how much he enjoyed your presence

and he’s not a wicked talkative guy so being able to feel comfortable with someone even if you aren’t talking or doing much is pretty important to him

as the date concludes, levi finally works up the courage to place his hand on your shoulder, asking if there was anything else you wanted to see before the museum closes for the day

his face might be bright red, but the smile you give him makes him feel a little less embarrassed

what can you say, you’ve got charm 💅

hange: the fucking zoo

ok i won’t lie when i got the idea of hange taking you to the zoo for your first date i thought it was so funny and idk why

like they’d be so excited that they’d nearly forget that they’re on a date with you

they’d drag you around from exhibit to exhibit, pointing out the exact breed of tortoise or some really strange fact about the zebras without looking at the little description panel in front of the exhibit

it’s pretty comical

but then randomly, when you guys are sitting down and eating some fries from one of the concession stands, they start going on a rant about animal cruelty and how a lot of zoos don’t treat the animals properly

and you’re just sitting there like “what 🧍‍♀️” cuz they’re mood changed so quickly LMAO

and as soon as their rant started, it finishes and they’re rushing you to the reptile exhibit

they’d probably try to figure out if they could hold one of the snakes

you’d have to drag them out of there before they start harassing one of the workers into letting them hold a snake

they’d also give all of the animals names only to forget them in 2 seconds

“hey, robert, it’s good to see you again!” “hange, i thought you named them dante?” “oh... did i? 😁”

however there’s probably like one animal they absolutely despise and idk why but i feel like it’s parrots

y’all would be walking through this rainforest exhibit, birds flying from tree to tree and the whole time they’re cursing the birds under their breath for no reason at all

just an angry person walking through a rainforest exhibit, cursing out birds

pretty normal if you ask me

however, the date itself is pretty casual and almost feels like you guys are just hanging out

or it would if they didn’t ask you out on another date before dropping you off at home, kissing your cheek as their farewell

pieck finger: café

very simple and quaint

i feel like pieck has a coffee addiction and always puts her in a better mood

so what better place to go on a date then a café?

she’s definitely an iced coffee drinker, and will occasionally go for a hot drink but usually iced coffee is her go-to

and if you get a coffee or tea that she also happens to like, you’re already practically golden in her eyes

since pieck has a very soothing and lowkey nature, i can see the date being much more just like a conversation with someone you’ve known for forever instead of interview-y which is something i’ve found coffee/lunch/dinner dates to be a bit like

but pieck knows how to keep things interesting and she’s a pretty calming person to be around so all is well

i also can’t see her getting super nervous before the date

she seems pretty calm unless in high-stress situations, but even then, she’s pretty level-headed

but since she’s so calm, it makes you wonder if she really cares for the date

and of COURSE she does, she’s so excited about it

it’s just the way pieck is

but as the date continues, she’d probably start to tease you by playing footsies under the table

you gotta keep the date interesting, you know?

you guys would talk about your interests, family, friends, shows you’re watching

literally just anything and everything that’ll allow you guys to get a feel for each other

and if all goes well she’ll definitely suggest another date ;)

also don’t expect to leave without her either writing something cute on your cup, pressing a lip-stick stained kiss to your cheek that matches the one surrounding the rim of her cup, or a promise that your game of footsies will continue next time you see each other

[darthkruge]

Being a Reader and Dating Jess Marino Would Include...

Warnings: none, like a little bit of language

A/N: I absolutely love this man. That is all. 

~my requests are open!~

He loved showing you what he was reading, and vice versa

You felt like the books you picked helped him see who you are

Because the plot spoke to you or you saw yourself in the characters 

Or the book taught you something or saved you during a dark time

And he understood this, you know?

He’d felt the same way, honestly

And Jess wasn’t used to being vulnerable and he wasn’t always the best with his words, so he was extremely grateful that he could use literature as a way to relate to you

He wanted you to know him, although he was scared

He trusted you and put in so much effort, even though he didn’t exactly know what to do in a relationship

This led to many reading dates between y’all

Whether it be in the park, at Luke’s apartment, at your house, wherever, you always tried to find time to read together

And you tried to make it a tradition that, at least once a month, you’d pick one of your favorite books and he’d pick one of, and you would trade and read each other’s books

You also loved that your shared interest in reading gave you something to talk about

You could discuss the books you’ve read together or debate over your favorite authors

Or simply just talk about what you loved in your recent read

You’d frequently go to the bookstore together and spend hours browsing the shelves

You’d walk around the store, Jess’s arm around you, yours around his waist

Those were the moments you felt most content

There were just pure moments of peace and joy and you didn’t know what you’d do without them

You loved to read while kinda laying on him

Like you’d always have your legs over his, be against his chest, or have your head in his lap

He always listened when you went on rants about your books

He loved watching you just get so passionate about something, seeing how much these characters and their stories meant to you

Jess was always surprised when you wanted to share something with him, as no one really ever sought him out as a listener before

And you were surprised that he always wanted to listen

When you went on these rants before, people tended to get annoyed with you

But he never did and he would get angry if he saw someone make you feel bad about caring about something

He knew it wasn’t “just fiction” to you, as it wasn’t to him either

The worlds meant everything to you and you just wanted someone to understand

He knew this feeling well, trying to relate to someone and get them to understand you but accidentally driving them further away in the process

And he made sure that you never felt that way around him

You remember your favorite gift you’d ever gotten

Jess had picked out a copy of your favorite book and spent a month annotating it

Like  a n n o t a t i n g

Not a single page was without writing

He color coded his notes and wrote down the emotions he felt in each chapter, the quotes that made him laugh, what reminded him of himself and what reminded him of you

When he gave it to you, you started crying and he thought he fucked up

So he started apologizing and saying he would go and buy you a new copy without anything in it

And you just kissed him, reassuring him

You told him that you loved it

It was like a way to see directly into his soul

His thoughts, ideas, values, everything was hidden within the pages

You also loved it because it was like your little secret

People might know he got you a book, but no one knew how intimate the gift was

Whenever you missed him, you’d flip through it

You never went on a trip without it

Jess would get a slight blush when he saw you flip through it the first time, feeling exceptionally exposed in front of you

But you hugged him and kinda just buried into his chest and looked up at him with this huge-ass smile

And when he looked at you and saw the pure love in your eyes he melted and kissed your forehead, tucking you back into his arms