#u can ignore this if it’s just on ur dash! sorry!

[caruliaa]

personally i dont think karen using ziggs correct pronouns is like proof the chasitys r like so awesome and chill abt trans ppl like . legit feel like they arent like everyones entitled to their opinions on it yk ofc but imo it kinda takes away from the commentary of the harm of fundamentalist xtian views esp when they r canonically homophobic ones and ones clearly based in like. gender roles to act like transphobia isnt part of those harmful views yk but like i do have my own takes on those lines in hatchet town being. number 1 the kindaa boring one lol is that the songs in the show are non diagetic yk so its kinda like when ur telling a story abt ur friend whos nonbinary and like their mom or whoever is transphobic or theyre not out to her nd u have to mention smth their mom said abt them in the story but its not at all relevant to the story tht theyre closeted to her or she doenst respect their identity and like regardless u dont wanna deadname nd misgender ur friend so ur gonna say it like she was using the right name and pronouns assuming ur talking to someone theyre out to right. what im saying is the meta narrative (and also team starkid bc i suspect the real not in universe reason is they didnt wanna misgender both the character and their actor whos actually non binary which is like rly valid nd fair yk like esp in the instance of the simple hatchet town cameo irrelevent to any other hypothetical commentary i think itd feel less like an actual commentary on transphobia and more like. just pointless and somewhat transphobic in an of itself yk) is ziggs friend in this analogy and its not going misgender them even if it is repeating something karen said thank you very much ! and number 2 the less boring one is that ziggs nonbinary swag is so powerful tht the transphobes of hatchetfield dont know how to misgender them so theyre forced to respect their identity bc they dont know how to disrespect it lol

[ca-suffit]

sorry how long this is, but this fandom is pissing me off so much and I need to rant a little before I explode lol.

-- madeleine (nonchalantly) says of sleeping with a literal nazi, "I was inviting a frightened boy to cradle my tits," and then when louis turns her we see this as a pleasant memory, and I'm supposed to believe someone who could take pity on a nazi (even if he "wasn't dedicated to the cause") and remember him fondly isn't going to be racist? so I'm the weird one for finding claudeine to be a gross ship and being exasperated by seeing edits of them flood my dash? and every time I talk about this on ANY platform, I mostly get ignored and the few people who do interact w my posts are denying it and saying she had to do it to survive, as if she didn't also literally say she grew up rich like 30 seconds prior.

-- a decent chunk of the anti lestat crowd insists he participated in the trial as an act of revenge and can't say his name w/o talking about how they hate him (bc his racism + abuse), and these are the same people going apeshit over ben daniels saying that santiago was gay and in love with armand, as if he isn't one of the most antiblack characters we've met on the show bc he was quite literally eager to put on the trial solely bc he hated louis for falling asleep during one of his performances. and don't get me started on his monologue about claudia's ashes. and yet ppl are excitedly eating ben's interview up. 🙄

-- the narrative literally showing us that lestat has changed since the attempted murder (going off script on the trial in defense of louis & claudia, taking accountability for his abuse, staying silent about the fact that he was the one to save louis & letting him leave w armand when we know how terrifying being alone is for lestat, spending decades living in that shack and eating rats to punish himself vs the hedonistic & decadent lifestyle we saw him living in s1) and the anti lestat crowd claiming this is just him being manipulative and are furious that the writers had louis forgive him. like normally I agree that it's in very poor taste to paint an abuser as sympathetic, but the thing about this show is that these characters are immortal and have all the time in the world to change. like this isn't the writers sweeping it under the rug, they're explicitly acknowledging how horrific lestat's behavior was and there are literally canon glimpses showing us that lestat has become a better person (and I'm sure this will be fleshed out more next season as we'll get his pov) and, like, isn't it a good thing to see an abusive character realize the error of their ways and alter their behavior and become better????? like it's fair to not want to see that, but this is the wrong show to be watching if you can't handle seeing abusers change their ways & being forgiven by the people they've hurt (especially since it's pretty much confirmed armand/daniel is going to happen at some point and given I'm sure they'll be circling around each other, I feel confident that louis will eventually forgive armand too)

ur fine, u can rant! I have a lot in my inbox but I try to get to it all eventually in whatever way.

idk how much u wanted me to comment on anything or not, but I'm gonna add comments and u do whatever u want with it.

a) ur never going to have an easy time criticizing a white woman in fandom. it reflects too much of what fandom is usually made up of and ppl will usually tell u it's misogyny to judge these characters if u ever try (most of the time it's not, but that's a convenient excuse to shut down convos).

the show intentionally makes everyone do p questionable shit, especially the white characters. it doesn't tell u how to feel about it, that's up to u. that makes ppl uncomfortable. it goes further too when it is someone like madeleine, who is otherwise seen in positive ways. it's reflective of real life and that's what scares ppl the most. nobody ever fits in a box of only "good" or "bad." a lot of what the book for IWTV asks too is what defines that anyways? and S1 also said "are we the sum of our worst moments?" so it is constantly asking u that and it is for u to decide and reflect on.

b) white, gay stuff is also gonna be popular in fandoms. ben daniels is also gay irl and his husband just died so there's crossover from that to praising his character bcuz ppl feel sympathy for him. I also think ppl detach more from his actions bcuz he's not romantically linked to the characters he's torturing. ppl also just honestly dgaf about antiblackness anyways so for most ppl it's easy to overlook. which is how we get posts like this.

I mean, u can also like whatever characters u like for any reason. some ppl like characters not bcuz they support what they do, but bcuz they're just enjoyable to watch in performance or connection to the plot or whatever. I think examining santiago after what ben said about his performance is something ppl should be able to do, and again it circles back to the stuff I wrote for madeleine. where does ur (general u) discomfort lie and why? as u said, if it's ppl who dislike lestat then it's worth looking at that too, why are the characters different then?

c) there's sort of 2 things happening for this part. the first is that 2x8 did have pacing issues, for whatever reasons. a lot of ppl felt like it flattened the plot and characters for the sake of making lestat look the best (over armand) and rly shoving it in out of nowhere. the second part is what u said about the themes. I've always figured they were going to explore forgiveness and personal growth, but I also know it isn't going to be easy for ppl to follow. hopefully the full seasons coming do a better job of this but for 2x8 there were a lot of reasons ppl felt crazy about the way it was shown to us. I also agree that other characters will have these journeys with each other too. it was just such a sharp turn for S2 to end on highlighting the white character we've otherwise seen as being p horrible and suddenly saying "it's the brown character who rly did the worst!" I don't think they intended to come across like that but it's how it landed for a lot of ppl. it doesn't mean ppl have an issue with the concept of forgiveness and stuff otherwise. we'll have to see how it goes. but ya there's 2 things going on there for this rn.

[illogicallyx]

Hey! You can ignore if this makes you uncomfortable but I was seeing your asks on my dash and couldn’t help because what if Nanami with a young reader? The way Nanami is with yuuji is canon, same age gap and everything. How do you think that would be?

hey nonie!!! it doesn't make me uncomfortable aghh i live for platonic rls with my fav characters more than romantic ones (shhh dont tell anyone its a secret)

ANYWAY

i will be writing this with a fem!reader in mind i hope you dont mind that <3

sorry in advance for pushing my Nanami Girl Dad agenda here but i very much believe he is like a dad to you!

blame his age or just the realization how fickle life is but he will be so much softer with you like he gives you soft smiles and cracks jokes with you to the point when yuji sees this he gets a lil jealous bc "nanami???? u never did that for me >:(" but there's no accusation in the statement he likes this side of nanami that you bring out — no matter how surprising it was for him and for others

it was surprising for nanami too

i love thinking how yuji and you would have like "beef" between u two where he complains to nanami abt u and he's like 🤷🏻‍♂️ and you stick ur tongue at yuji to which he pouts bc what is this special treatment but its all jokes

idk why but i loveee the idea of nanami with a clumsy reader like i can 😔😔😔😔 i know he will bend down and do ur laces for u while u are forgetful abt them bc u are too busy talking to notice

i love the idea of his mentee eating his ear off OEKFKDKDK imagine like staying in his office sitting on the couch talking abt ur fav shows and books like he's ur bestie while he makes coffee for himself and he is listening intently to you, nodding when appropriate, raising his eyebrows at ridiculous theories of ur fav media that u read online and giving his own input as to what he thinks

i personally like to believe he would love to talk with you bc u are emotionally intelligent and he even opens up but like not in a way that he uses you as his therapist no no but like he loves listening to ur input over trivial things in life like why people behave a certain way, why money is so important and etc etc yk

but like he still treats u like the kid you are doe i love the idea of him taking u to get ur fav snacks after a mission and giving u headpats while telling u that u did a good job

and when u become a second year or leave his mentorship do not expect a change in this routine doe bc ur bond with him is too strong to just stop after <3

[badlydrawndoc-scratch]

don't really have time or energy to draw this right now so. you're getting it in writing instead

It's not your birthday. At best, you would call it a day that someone who was you once was familiar with.

One that he didn't like either. Sure, you'd pretend to be him for a bit, accept some birthday wishes for him. But it wasn't your birthday. Not to you, at least. You think they all understand, to a point. Dirk does, at least.

That was why you weren't prepared to humour this conversation.

TG: this is hal isnt it

TG: not mad jst

TG: how do i say this?

TT: It seems there's a fairly large chance you're accusing me of not being myself, based off of a totally bullshit statistic.

TT: Care to elaborate?

TG: if u want me to tell u happy birthday 2 i can lmao

TG: dont hafta be weird about impersonatin dirk for that!!!

TT: I...

TT: Sorry. Holdon.

TT: There we go.

TT: As I was about to say, it's not technically my birthday. It's Dirk's. I wasn't even created today.

TT: I'll relay your well-wishes to him whenever he returns. Don't need to ask me about it.

TG: hmm nah i think i like havin' a hold of u for this

TG: if ur like

TG: not REALLY him

TG: but have his memories and shit

TG: todays ur day too

TG: so happy b-day! im not takin' that back either!

TT: ...

TT: I should go.

TT: Dirk probably won't like me monopolizing his account, even if he isn't here.

TT: Thanks, I guess.

You log off without another word, back in your sort-of space. Maybe you'll check in with Jane in a bit. Maybe you'll go through the internet for no apparent reason.

You can't say that that made you feel human. Or that it made you feel better, but... it made you think. It made you feel something. That was a start, right?

---

A firm series of slaps to the back of the cue-ball/head drags you out of your reverie. It's Itchy, hand poised to continue slapping you if you don't acknowledge him.

"Apologies. I must have became lost in thought," you begin, "as tends to happen with the omniscient. That said, there are better ways to get my attention."

Itchy shrugs and tells you he doesn't give a shit. He was just the fastest. The Felt needs you for somethin'. Somethin' he can't tell you about.

"Vague and somewhat sarcastic as always, Itchy. Just get to the point."

He just tells you you're no fun, before half dragging you out of one of your many studies. The whole manor is technically your study. But especially this one.

Itchy only bothers to take you about halfway, to where Crowbar is standing and waiting. He hardly says goodbye before dashing off to who-knows-where, probably to cause trouble somewhere else.

You pretend you don't know what's being hidden from you. You could figure out, and in the back of your mind you have figured out. But surprise is an emotion you like trying to fake.

Sometimes you wish you weren't faking it.

Crowbar walks up to you, with some off-handed comment about how he didn't expect Itchy to get you there on time. Or at all. He can never tell. Nonetheless, he's slightly more gentle when he offers you his hand, like he's not about to effectively drag you across an entire manor.

You don't remember the last time you've had actual contact with someone in a way that wasn't violent. You're not sure it's ever happened, honestly. (In reality, you know that isn't true. You were an indigoblood once, you recall. It's not as clear as the other memories, though.)

Crowbar's hand is felted, unsurprisingly, almost like a pool table. Again. Unsurprising. It's never surprising, but you commit the texture to memory anyway, all but ignoring what he's actually talking about. Something about a celebration.

He says they got the table stickball table fixed, and your attention is drawn again.

"Just call it a pool table."

He says he doesn't feel like it. It's a ball you hit with a stick on a table. Ain't a pool in sight. You agree, silently. The Alternian names for things were as foreign as they were ingrained; you knew them as much as you didn't know them.

Eventually, you're led into what you believe is the living room, and Crowbar lets go of your hand. You don't immediately adjust to the lack of feeling in your hand, almost like you were... severely touch-starved, actually, or something.

That's ridiculous, of course. You aren't technically alive, even if you're not as "soon to die" as you once were.

Someone, you think it could be Quarters, explains that all the Felt knows it isn't technically your birthday, and that it's only such by a few tangents. (You mentally add on that you weren't even created today).

But, Quarters adds, you've been stuck in a rut of sorts for a while. It wasn't really anyone's idea, he says. But it was agreed that it might get you feeling better for a while.

And, for once, you feel surprise. You never thought that they actually cared. Or even noticed. You're just their boss, of course. You're hardly even there.

(You have spent the past few months only leaving the Manor when you absolutely have to.)

You can't say it makes you feel alive. Or better, really. But it made you think. It made you feel something.

And, as you're dragged to play table stickball with Trace and Sawbuck, you decide that's a start.

[slutforstabbings]

the NO-SKIP albums: a tag game 🎶💖

rules: share the albums that you can listen to nonstop. those lightning in a bottle-albums that scratch ur brain just right. every single track, an absolute banger. u could not skip one if u tried. no notes. stunning, show-stopping, immaculate. ur no-skip albums. 🔎 bonus & optional (but imo, v fun) rules:1) add a track rec for us to listen to! AND2) share ur favorite line(s) from that track! 👀

Thank you so much for tagging me and inventing this game @ventiswampwater ! <3 I added two extra dimensions that I do not expect anybody else to do, but i tried to focus on my current favorite musical textures, and I only picked bands with less than 1.5 million monthly spotify listeners because you do not need me to tell you how good deftones is lol check below the cut for album info ~

and in the spirit of the boops, i'm tagging a lot more people than i usually do in these games, so feel free to ignore me if you don't want to participate lol @loureedpiss @hersweetrevenge @toxicanonymity @deathwestern @grandmawitch @bbwithaknife @sevvventhson @clemkruckinnie @hall0ween-twn @ghostwriterforghosts @barbie-cock @heartrot666 @ethanhoewke @deanmonlover

Apocalipstick (2017) | Cherry Glazerr indie rock, noise pop | for fans of Veruca Salt, Mitski track rec: Trash People art is love and love is sloppy / nothing is all pure / nothing is all dirty

Neck of the Woods (2012) | Silversun Pickups indie rock, shoegaze | for fans of Smashing Pumpkins, Interpol track rec: Dots and Dashes (enough already) see you in the room next door / your feet float above the floor / dress torn above you knees / like you've owned it for centuries

Glow On (2021) | Turnstile post-hardcore, alternative metal, dream pop | for fans of AFI, Title Fight track rec: Underwater Boi i just need to know i'm / working for the big prize / when i get to heaven will i know?

Comfort to Me (2021) | Amyl and the Sniffers garage punk, hardcore | for fans of Descendents, Adolescents, Distillers track rec: Maggot everything you touch turns to gold / i can't wait for you to touch me

GT Ultra (2017) | Guerilla Toss dance punk, progressive pop | for fans of Le Tigre, Oingo Boingo track rec: Skull Pop will there be a warning? / when the clock stops moving? / will you have just 60 seconds? / will you find it boring?

10,000 Gecs (2023) | 100 Gecs hyperpop, pop punk, nu metal | for fans of ??? they're too unique for this sorry track rec: 757 i got problems with my spending / all these horses in my engine / doing 80 in a 30 / but i'm never in a hurry

Mind Control (2013) | Uncle Acid and the Deadbeats traditional doom metal, heavy psych | for fans of Black Sabbath, heavy Beatles songs track rec: Poison Apple don't you worry baby, you're safe with me / i'm the poison apple in your tree

Soma (2013) | Windhand doom metal, stoner metal | for fans of the sensation of a weighted blanket, but sound track rec: Orchard i'm having trouble with the down time / can't pick myself up off the floor

[whispering-ways]

Could you do College AU where the reader and others (u can choose) live on campus and the reader she was a trouble maker and they went to a party that was happening (with illegal stuff and alcohol) and aizawa who was a professor ruined it and the people who couldn’t escape (aka the reader and h can choose if the others got caught) and…. (U can carry on from here) I ABSOLUTELY LOVE UR FICS!!! So this is just an idea ❤️❤️❤️❤️

♡•୨୧ after office hours ୨୧•♡

✶ summary: you're a rich spoiled student who always seems to disrupt professor aizawa. He hasn't been able to do much about it till now.

✶ pairing: shouta aizawa x f!reader

✶ tags: cursing, nicknames like sir, baby, sweetheart, blackmail, creampie, penetrative sex

✶ notes: hi anon! I literally loved doing this request so much so let me know whether you guys liked it and want more fics like this <3 love y'all and hope you guys have a great day/night :)

The chalk squeaks across the board as he writes out the basic outline of today’s lecture. Steadying himself from the stress of his upcoming class, Aizawa lets out a long sigh. Bit by bit, students start trickling in and taking their seats in the lecture hall, ready to review this week’s reading about Shakespeare. “Fuck I really hope she’s sick or something, this day’s already tiring enough,” he thought, watching the minutes tick by on the clock above his desk. With two minutes left till class started, Aizawa got up from his desk to close the door, relieved to see a certain student not in his class. But that happiness was dashed the second he saw your hand stop the door from fully closing. You slammed the door open and started walking up to your seat in the tiered classroom, iced coffee in hand. The ice clinked around the plastic container loudly as you plopped down into your chair, looking smugly right at Aizawa.

“I’m so sorry I’m late Professor Aizawa. I pinky promise it won’t happen again,” you say, laughing obnoxiously. And there it started. The tirade of distractions that you did every class. Every damn class you managed to distract everyone from his lecture. Whether it was passing notes to your friends, playing YouTube videos out loud, eating during a test, or making ‘color commentary’ when you thought you knew better than him, you always managed to find someone way to entertain yourself during class.

At first, he tried to ignore it and thought that maybe you were just a freshman looking to be popular. However, as the semester progressed, it was clear to him that you acted out just because you wanted to. That’s what pissed him off the most. Aizawa just couldn’t understand why anyone would go out of their way to do what you were doing.

And it’s not like he hadn’t tried to solve the issue either. He complained to the previous head of literature and even the dean of students, but there was nothing anyone could do. Your family was a major contributor to the sports programs and was known for pledging generous donations to Harvard every year.

Your father was a powerful businessman with good connections throughout the university. And if that wasn’t bad enough, you bullied other students into doing your work and taking your tests, making it nearly impossible to suspend you from the literature program since you were actually ‘doing your work’ according to the dean of students.

Aizawa never would openly admit that he had any students he disliked. But he would say that he hated you. Every day you walked in was a bad day for him. All he wished for was the ability to put you in your fucking place just for once. But that didn’t matter now; all he needed to focus on was finishing his lecture.

He mustered up every bit of patience before replying “It’s fine Ms. (L/N), make sure you are punctual next time.” He heard you snicker in response, but he tried to pay you no mind. He turns back around to the board, explaining the first part of the homework. He heard some sighs as people marked up their work, but your voice stuck out like a sore thumb.

With every single answer, you kept commenting on what you thought. “If it were me and Romeo looked like that kid over there, I would’ve gladly drank that poison,” you say to your friend, pointing to another student.

Aizawa’s grip on the chalk intensified. “How does anyone just say that about someone else? How soulless do you have to be?” he thought, a scowl painted across his face. He continued to explain the literature review homework, hoping time was going by faster than it felt. After what felt like forever, the lecture was finally done and he could finally experience peace again. Thank God you’d just stuck to passing notes by the end of class, because if he had to hear your voice again, Aizawa would probably have gone crazy.

“Well, that’s all I have for today, everyone. Please make sure to turn in your homework before heading out and I’ll have them graded during the weekend,” he said, watching his students file out, once again leaving the lecture hall in a mess. His eyes glance over to your seat, littered with folded up pieces of notebook paper. With a reluctant sigh, he gets up from his chair to pick up the pieces of paper so as to lighten the load on the janitor. After picking up what seemed to be a dozen torn pieces, his curiosity got the best of him.

“What could have possibly needed this much paper? Can’t she just have texted this?” Aizawa furrows his brows as he unfurls the crumpled-up paper, and a confused expression floods his face as he reads, "Come to the house at like 8, but bring your own drinks." Interesting. Last he seemed to recall, you were underage.

“Could’ve sworn she was underage, but I guess it’s not totally uncommon to get drunk in college,” he thought to himself as he settled back into his seat, pulling out the submitted work. Only 27 of the 35 students turned in the review, which was disappointing, to say the least, given how straightforward and easy the assignment was designed to be. “It’s better than nothing and gives me less work to do, I guess,” he thought,

“But,” he thought to himself, “people drink all the time before 21, so I guess it’s not too surprising.” He sat down at his desk, pulling out the homework the students had turned in. In total, there were only about 27 sheets. Disappointing, considering there were over 35 students in the class. “It’s better than nothing and gives me less work to do, I guess,” he thought.

After what seemed like forever, he had finally graded a decent chunk of work and decided to head home. He didn’t live too far off campus; his house was just a 15-minute walk away from the arts and sciences building. Aizawa had truly enjoyed living in his little house, that is up until the university had placed a frat house right next to his.

Every week, for the last month, his neighbors managed to party every weekend till the sun rose the next morning. If there was one thing he valued it was sleep and he hated how he couldn’t even get a wink on the weekend. He partied too as a student, but nothing like this. I mean didn’t they at least some form of rest?

Although he'd prefer to move elsewhere, housing at the university is provided to him as part of his contract. With a heavy sigh, he trudges through the windy evening, ready to seek refuge in the comfort of his home. As he's only a couple blocks away, he hears cackles coming from behind him, and before he has a chance to react, two men rush by, inadvertently shoving him to the ground.

His bag's contents are strewn across the sidewalk as they swiftly disappear inside his neighbor's home. "Assholes!", he curses, collecting his papers from the grass. “Fucking fantastic. Another sleepless night,” he mumbles to himself, picking up his graded papers one by one off the grass.

He walks up to his door and walks inside, the door slamming shut behind him. He spares not even a moment before sinking face-first into his bed. Aizawa hastily takes off and throws his clothes to the side, wanting to sleep as soon as possible.

He closes his eyes, ready to end the day, but his peace and quiet is quickly interrupted with booming sounds radiating from nearby. He shot up out of his bed and walked over to his windows, pulling back to curtains to discover that his hunch was correct: the source of the noise was his neighbor’s house.

Aizawa tried everything under the sun to block out the sounds of his noisy neighbor. He counted sheep, listened to soothing music, even covered his head with a pillow, but nothing seemed to block out the annoying noise. Finally, he'd had enough. He yelled out, "Enough is enough! I'm sick of this noise", before quickly changing into a black t-shirt and pajamas. His mission was clear: he was going to have a word with those neighbors.

As if it weren't loud enough from the comfort of his own home, it was deafening from out here. Like having his ear pressed right up against the speaker itself. He tries knocking a few times, hoping for the best, but he's quickly met with the realization that knocking would accomplish nothing.

He then starts beating on the door, hoping for success this time around. Finally, the door opens to reveal a group of other rich kids with you at the forefront -- wasted in a sparkly tube top dress, with drunken slurs dripping off your tongue.“Pr-Professor Aizawa? Are youuuu here for the party too bestie? You look nice in not stuck up clothes you know, some realllll daddy material.”

"Oh, you are worse drunk than sober", Aizawa grumbled in exasperation as the smell of weed and alcohol overwhelmed his senses, making him feel queasy. "Enough is enough", he yelled sharply, bringing the party to an abrupt halt. "All of you need to either shut up or get out. It's every week with you folks", he snapped.

Turning his attention towards you, and with a harsh whisper just for your ears, he adds, "I see drugs scattered everywhere and you may get away with making a distraction every now and then, but don't think you can avoid expulsion once the dean finds out about this, I’ve got cameras all over my place filming the noise, so if you know what’s good for you, I’d get your ass to my office first thing in Monday morning.”

And with a swift and solid slam of the door, he ended the party and walked back to his house, finally relishing in the sweet silence. To his surprise, the peace and quiet continued for the remainder of the night, and he breathed a heavy sigh of relief, praising the lord for finally granting him a moment of peace.

Aizawa wakes up the following morning, well-rested. It was a dream come true to see his lawn lacking in beer cans and streamers and for the first time in a long time, he’s happy to be up in the morning. The same could not be said about you however. You woke up in a bathtub accompanied with the worst hangover you’d ever experienced in your life. Your head was killing you, Professor Aizawa’s words ringing through your mind. “Just another part of clean-up,” you thought, reaching for your phone to call your dad.

“Hello?”

“Hi! How’s my favorite dad alive doing?” you say cheerily, doing your best to butter him up. All you got was a sigh in response, so you continued. “I just have a teeny tiny, really the smallest thing, favor to ask of you Daddy.”

Internally, you anticipated another sigh from him before sucking up to whatever you wanted your father to do, but this time was different. “I’m tired of your antics Y/N. I don’t even care about the favor or whatever you must’ve done, but it’s gone on far too long. You need to take accountability for your actions because I can’t bankroll you any longer. I’ve spent nearly a half a million dollars just paying for your mistakes and I won’t have any of it any longer. If you’re on the brink of getting suspended again, you will be disowned so apologize to whoever you’ve hurt this time/ It’s time you fixed your own mistakes. You’ll thank me in the future.” And with that your dad hung up.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck", you mumble in distress, beginning to panic. "If he didn't like suspension, he definitely won't be happy with expulsion", you muse, trying to collect your racing thoughts. "What can I do? I better go apologize right away. The sooner we resolve this, the better", you murmur to yourself, attempting to calm your nerves.

After chugging down a few pain killers, you rush to your wardrobe to pick the perfect apology outfit. I mean, of course you had to look humbling, but a clean academic look wouldn’t hurt when saying sorry. “What do I go with? Hmm”, you say, perusing through your wast collection of designer outfits. You finally decide on a cute little number that came straight from Chanel: a pink cropped blazer and a strapdress set. You looked at yourself in the mirror, making sure you gave off the epitome of a teacher’s pet, before putting on your heels and walking next door.

Aizawa barely even sat down in his office before he hears a couple sharp raps coming from his door. “Ah fucking hell. People,” he says to himself before getting up to see who it is. “Jesus Christ.” he says in surprise, looking down to see you, dressed all prim and proper, a total deviation of what he saw last night. It was a shock to him that you were even standing upright. “What do you want? I thought I told you to see me Monday in my office, not today at my house.”

“Professor Aizawa! I hope you’re having a good day. I think we’ve like misunderstood each other. All I wanted to do is have a little chat about what you believe you saw last night Proffesor,” you explain stepping inside.

“No one told you you could come in, but go ahead sit on my couch, who cares anymore?”

You sit down in Aizawa’s living room, crossing your legs and putting your bag to your side. He sits right across from you, patiently waiting for what you’re going to say next. “I just wanted to apologize for all the noise you heard last night, yeah? Didn’t mean it to get so loud.”

Gobsmacked couldn’t even begin to explain how Aizawa felt hearing you apologize to him. “You’re actually being genuine? This isn’t you playing a prank of me or anything?” he says, suspicious.

“No like I’m being so for real, and how do you say, down to Earth right now. I’m sorry for making noise and I won’t do it again, so let’s forget this whole thing and like start a new page, okay?” you reply back with a smile.

“In the nicest way ever Miss (L/N), there’s no way I’m letting you off the hook that quickly. It’s not fair to the other students if I did that. Plus, where would my integrity be if I let you get off scot free doing everything you’ve done? You need to face the consequences to your actions. And in the nicest way possible, getting the chance to discipline you will be the highlight on my career that I wouldn’t give up for the entire world.”

You were absolutely thrown for a loop. You thought that genuinely your problem would be solved with what you said. “Today is just full of unexpectations and not the good kind either,” you say with a huff and crossing your arms.

“See that’s exactly what I mean. This baby behavior? You need to learn the adult world is rough Miss (L/N). I know very well that your dad will have this cleared up in two seconds flat. But this is the most I can do with the footage that I have and there’s no possible way I’m not taking this to the extremes. Respectfully, maybe starting off at community college could be betterto turn your life around.” Aizawa says, the direct opposite of his thoughts that screamed joy at you finding some sort of consequence.

You were doing your best to hold in your tears, but hearing the words ‘community college’ broke the dam. “I-I, I can’t because Daddy, because Daddy he said he won’t help me, and-and-and and he says that I- I have to handle this on my o-own this ti-time, which isn’t fair at all and I can’t get expelled because I’ll be disowned and become a peasant and I’m not made for that life P-P-Professor. And I can’t go to community because I’ll be w-w-with all the poors! Please I’ll do anything!” sobbing and hiccuping on your words as your tried to explain to Aizawa how desperate you were.

Aizawa sat back in his seat, wondering what to make of this. Even if this was the truth, there would be no way you wouldn’t eventually get off the hook. Realistically, even if your dad cut you off, but he knew for a fact what he said was an empty threat. There’s no way he’d allow for a headline that reputation-damaging to spread across the internet, not when he could prevent it. But just then an idea blossomed in his head. “So you’d really do anything?”

You immediately wiped your tears away and scrambled to compose yourself. “Yes! Yes, I’ll like literally do anything, I don’t care, I just can’t afford this.”

“Hmm.. well that’s an interesting proposition then, Miss (L/N). In that case, strip.”

“What?” you say, shocked. “You’re...you’re actually not serious right?”

“I’m completely serious. I heard you talking the other week about how you wanted to fuck me anyways and I seem to recall you saying that I was ‘ real daddy material’, so don’t bother trying to tell me you wouldn’t want this. If you want me to consider forgiving you, you’ll get to stripping,” a smile creeping on his face.

“There must be some way we can work out something else, alright? I mean what if I organize your office or something? Soup kitchen perhaps?” you suggest, scrambling to find some sort of loophole.

“No. I’m sorry young lady, but there’s no out. Get to stripping if you want me to consider. Or you can always face the risk of me going to the dean. Not too far a walk from here actually and I’m sure he’d have a ball listening to your explanations.”

You stood there, shell-shocked. There truly was no way to get out of this. You slipped off your blazer, folding it and placing it gingerly on the couch. You stood up and slowly started to pull down the zipper to your dress and laid that right next to your blazer. “There, happy?”

Aizawa looked you over. He was a little surprised to see you wearing modest underwear, a simple pink bra and cotton boyshorts; he expected something more lacey. That said, you still looked amazing. But he wasn’t quite done with you just yet. “Get on your knees and suck me off.”

“Are you actually like insane? Why would I do that?” you retorted.

“Because you know you have no other choice. A), again I know that you want to because everything I’m asking for is part of the fantasy you so helpfully detailed out to your friend and B), you have no other choice remember? It’s either listen to me or get expelled and we both know you don’t want that sweetheart,” Aizawa said with a mischievous smile. “My dick isn’t gonna suck itself, so...get to it.”

You hated to admit it, but he was right on both accords. The main reason you made a ruckus in his class was to get his attention. What you would’nt give to fuck him. After all, he was the hottest professor here on campus and you always did have a thing for academics. Besides this right here was your fantasy. But you couldn’t let him know that, hence this feisty front. You lowered yourself down to the ground and Aizawa grinned at you.

“That’s a good girl,” he says, unbuckling his pants and throwing his belt to the side. You looked up at him one last time before running the tip of your tongue from the base of his shaft to the tip, leaving a small and gentle kiss right near his slit. After a few more experimental licks to his dick, you dove in only being able to go a couple inches deep.

Aizawa’s dick wasn’t long, which you honestly preferred, what it lacked in length, it made up in width. You bobbed you head up and down, spit dribbling down your the corner of your mouth the further and further you went. You were so preoccupied with making sure you didn’t choke that you didn’t even notice Aizawa’s hand making its way to your hair until you felt him yanking your head back and start throat fucking you roughly.

You immediately put your hands on his thighs, trying to steady yourself against the relentless pace he set. You start choking as he goes deeper, pushing all 6 inches of his cock down your throat. He only stops and pulls out, just as he’s about to cum. He puts his finger under your chin, propping your face up. “Close your eyes for me pretty girl.” You had a moment after closing your eyes until he came all over your face, cum dripping off your chin.

“God, you look so pretty like that, baby. Gotta do that more often huh?” Aizawa says, grabbing your shoulder to pull you up. He takes your wrist in his hand, guiding towards his office, where hands you a tissue. “Here, for your face.” You wordlessly take the tissue, thinking that was the end of it all, but you don’t see Aizawa going back for his belt. Maybe he just needed to air himself or something, you thought to yourself, while walking over to the trashcan to dispose of the tissue.

“Good, I didn’t even have to ask you to throw it. If only you could be this obedient in class, hmm? Now put your hands on my desk and bend over,” Aizawa says, pushing some papers aside.

“What the fuck? I thought all you wanted me to do is suck you off!” you exclaim.

“Oh sweetheart, I never said that. Can’t go making assumptions can we? Now hands on the table, be good for me.”

You start shuffling towards the table, and Aizawa simply has no patience for it. He grabs you and pushes you towards the desk. You barely have time to collect yourself before you feel him rip your panties, leaving your core exposed to the cold air of the room. “Look at that pretty cunt of yours baby. All dripping f’me huh?”

You felt like you were being examined with the way he was looking at you, but it couldn’t distract you from your ripped panties lying in a heap beside you. “Those were my favorite panties you know! They cost a lot, you can’t just rip them to shreds!” you complain.

“Who gives a shit, I’ll buy you new ones later, after all, you’ll be seeing a lot of me now, won’t you?” You don’t even have the time to think about what he said before you feel two cold wet fingers near your entrance. You moan out as his fingertips barely graze your clit and he takes that as notice to start rubbing it slowly.

“Fuck, sir, that feels so fucking good~,” you mewl out as he goes faster, driving you closer to your climax.

“That’s right baby, call me sir. God this is so much fucking hotter than I ever imagined,” Aizawa said moving his fingers away from your clit.You whine out in response, missing the sensation already, but its quickly replaced with his two fingers plunging deep inside you.

He curved his fingers trying to hit the one spot he was looking for and when he heard you cry out, he knew he found it. He continued to pound his fingers, making sure not to miss that spot of yours each time. “Fuck, I’m gonna cum sir!” you moaned. Just as you finished saying that and felt that familiar build up of pleasure, you felt his fingers leave your cunt. You look back, as to ask why he stopped, making him chuckle.

“Aww sweetheart, you didn’t think that I’d just let you cum on my fingers did you?” Aizawa says. He leans over just far enough so that his palm is near your face before saying, “Spit.”

You look up questionably, then spit in his hand, which brings back to his cock, pumping it slowly in his fist. A short moment later, you hear the snap of something rubber and a slight prodding at your entrance. Aizawa slowly pushes his cock into you and waits for a moment, allowing you to get comfortable with the sensation. “Y-you can move now sir.”

“Shit, that’s cute how you think I need permission,” he replies before starting to pump into you faster, building into what felt like an inhuman pace. The sounds coming from you now were purely pornographic, beyond Aizawa’s wildest fantasies.“Fuck baby, you’re so fucking tight. Should’ve fucked you ages ago.” You couldn’t even reply; you were absolutely overwhelmed in pleasure. All you do is hum in agreeance and continue to keep moaning out. It doesn’t take long for you to feel that same build-up of pleasure that you felt before.

“I’m gonna cum sir, please let me cum for you,” you whine, hoping he’d provide you with some sort of release.

“Not yet, you only cum when I cum, got it?” he said, pushing your head into the desk and he starting pumping his cock faster, this time with a bit less rhythm. You could tell it wouldn’t be too long; all you had to do was be patient.

It took a few more sloppy strokes, but finally Aizawa growled out “I’m gonna cum soon baby. Cum all over my cock for me. Be a good girl,” punctuating each word by slamming his cock against your g-spot. His hand traveled up to your clit, rubbing it while he continued to fuck you.

“I’m gonna come sir, I’m so close~” you moan out, a slur of words as you reach closer and closer to your peak.

“C-cum for me baby,” Aizawa groans out. “Fuck, I-I’m gonna cum too.”

He slams his cock into you a couple more times before cumming deep inside of you. He lays against you, sandwiching you between him and the desk for a moment or two before he slowly pulls himself out and throws the condom away. You slip from the desk, knees buckling as you fall to floor in exhaustion. Aizawa shuffles off to the living room and returns, your clothes in hand. He throws them near you and he buckles up his pants back up.

“Put on your clothes and get the fuck out. If you think I’m gonna cuddle you, you’re surely mistaken. But first give me your number,” he says handing you his phone.

“Why would I give you my number?” you ask incredously.

“Because sweetheart, you’re gonna on be on-call for me for the next two months. You’re too good to give up after just one time, so we’re gonna make this a thing. Whenever I need you, I’ll give you a text, sound good?” he replies as if you asked about something common sense.

“What?! One time was more than enough!”

“Oh please, don’t lie, I know you want more of this dick,” he chuckles. He wasn’t wrong, his dick was pretty irreplaceable.

“Fine. Just as long as you don’t tell the dean about what I did.” you say, punching your number into his phone and handing it back to him.

“Scout’s honor, I won’t tell a soul. Just as long as you keep up this arrangement,” he replies, pocketing his phone. You put your clothes back on and Aizawa leads you to the door. After you leave, he heads back to his bedroom. Although he’d never admit it to you in the moment, he was pretty exhausted after all the fun and decided to head to bed. It didn’t take him long to drift to sleep, dreaming of all the things he could do to you in the future.

"Scout's honor, I won't tell a soul. Just as long as you keep up this arrangement." He pockets his phone and leads you to the door, where you promptly leave. Once gone, he heads back to his bedroom, fatigue taking over him after the fun you both just had. Soon enough, he drifts into a deep slumber, dreaming of all the things he could do to you in the future. But not before texting you to come to his office after office hours to see him again.

[miss-oranje-disco-dancer]

I love the whole of eye for an eye in ways I cannot describe!!!! FORGIVE ME!!

the entirety of the first paragraph and the coping mechanisms is so HEARTBREAKING but they’re stated so plainly it’s like reader is just. idk like they blend in with the mundanity of everyday life!!!

ALL OF THESE LINES STICK WITH ME I wish I could paste the whole fic into the ask box and send it to you honestly

the only muscles that work are the ones that crinkle in disgust

Funny, he can’t hurt you as much as your own body can.

You made the mistake of being kindhearted. It’s what led you here. UGH this one makes me sick im sorry it’s so raw

Fuck your nice shirt. I hate you. I hate the way you look in it. I hate seeing you behind me in the mirror of the bathroom with the top button undone.

Leon doesn’t meet your eyes on Monday. You’ve won.

He tries to ignore it, tries to ignore you entirely. He doesn’t lock eyes with you on Monday. He eats lunch in his car. Alone. Just like you.

I WISH I could explain everything to you but all of it is just too good you are legit my fave writer on here.. like I don’t know you’re so GREAT LIZ!!! you just get it omg.. I love u. 😡

stoppppp cherry!! i'm gonna cry :,( i'm glad it had its intended effect even tho it's sad fic. while most fics are just fics (the way i write reader is super different from the way i would act typically) eye for an eye got a little dash of me sprinkled in there. (the IUD thing was a personal experience lmao). but yeah, maybe i should write more things from experience/personal feelings ig? since it's good (i trust your opinions)

am i fr your fave tumblr writer? bc that's insane?? i'm not *that* good (don't tell anyone but ur my fave writer on here) but i do hate you for giving me the ddlg mental eelness (jk lmao)!!

anyway, i love you too <3

[dnangelic]

HELLO- I've been lurking your blog for the past-- uhh... hour or so? reading your writing, looking over your carrd, screaming internally about finding another D.N. Angel fan and just??? hello!!

I do want to follow and interact with you, but I have maybe one or two questions beforehand because I am a weenie and I like making sure things are okay first before following-

First question: Although I do say my backstory for OCs can generally be ignored, I do have one that is for D.N. Angel. However, she's an "exception to the rule" type of character because I like exploring "what ifs" and a distant Niwa descendant (at least 150 years post-canon AU-ish type). I'm not sure if you'd be okay with seeing her on the dash (if we become mutuals)/potentially interacting with her (again, if we become mutuals) so this is me asking if that's okay???

Second question: wHY IS YOUR WRITING SO GOOD LIKE WHAT?? okay but the real second question is are you okay with duplicates? I do write Dark, too (though I need to reread the manga rip me) and I wasn't sure of that either.

I'm so sorry for the essay!! I'm just excited and want to follow/interact and???? yeah- If you'd like, you can respond to this privately! idm either way. I figured an ask would be a good way to ask a question before following- Sorry about this aaaa

(I'm sorry this is weird and sent by a currently non-follower but I like to make sure of things first before following new people;;;)

HELLO!!! oh my gosh dw about it!!! ik how exciting it is to find another fan of (or just someone who even recognizes tbh) the series!! get in here?! i mean assuming my own answers are fine by you too but KJDFJKJG 150 YEARS POST CANON?! that's incredible??

i don't mind that kind of thing at all esp since the time gap is so wide, (i think i'd only be a little picky/heavily plotted with when it comes to like, DIRECT descendants since i have no real set 'ship' for daisuke,) but i'd love to see and interact myself assuming you're also fine with funky time shenanigans?? something something (my) daisuke's still only 15 and all but he'd love without a doubt to meet other niwa ancestors/descendants somehow and by the power of the arts(tm) and funky hikari magic we can MAKE IT HAPPEN. actually i'd think it was really funny that he keeps pining to see or meet / experience all his ancestors but now he's suddenly the ancient ancestor that nobody was supposed to even be able to fathom. fdKJKJFKJGKJ FOSSIL GRANDPA NIWA DAISUKE (HES ONLY 15)

for ur second q don't worry about dupe stuff either!! (AND TYSM FOR THE WRIITING COMPLIMENT??? :SOB:) but like. i'm super dupe friendly. mega dupe friendly! ultra dupe friendly!!! i literally cannot express how dupe friendly i am because i love this series and its characters and i think everybody else should too! DFKJKJGKJ DON'T BE AFRAID, COME TO MEEEE!!! and there's nothing weird about reaching out either, thank you for taking the time to send this sort of thing, actually!! im bringing u (and ur oc. and ur dark.) into my big black phantom thief cape. UR SAFE NOW!!

[illdesigns]

hii! i hope ur doing well! idk if u have gotten other asks ive sent or not but i was wondering where u went… u havent really posted writing or even fandom stuff period lol

i just want to clarify that this is like…the fourth or fifth message i have gotten, seemingly from the same anon due to typing styles and general content. i’ve been steadfastly ignoring them for a bit because it’s no skin off my nose but i’m honestly tired. so i’m sorry if i come off as unnecessarily mean during this but i cannot overstate the fact i’ve been ignoring this for a while.

i’m still blogging. i haven’t left or gone anywhere. yeah, i haven’t really posted writing, because i’ve been busy. because i’m a grown adult who does other things in my life. and i have posted fandom stuff - i am not immune to gifsets, fanart and jokes about media i like. but i am deciding to cease participating in fandom spaces because it’s not really for me any more. i want to focus more on my original writing and am not in a point where i can give a hobby and something i want to turn into a career the same level of attention.

and i know this anon probably means a Certain Fandom, as i’ve only been active in one the past few years. i’ve not felt the need to make some big announcement of a fandom flounce at my big age but i also don’t feel as if i have any particular place i fit in in the metalocalypse fandom any more. i’m glad for the great friends i made during my time participating in that, and i also met my current partner through the fandom and that’s given me a lot of nice opportunities in life too. so yay me.

however, if i may allow myself a certain degree of flounce since i’ve been pestered into sharing this information by somebody who seems to have had a bi-weekly alarm on their phone about sending me passive aggressive anons: i’m not particularly keen on a fandom space that, outside of an immediate circle of friends, has been an absolute minefield of social interaction. between watching drama and outright harassment my friends have dealt with and the issues i have faced myself (harassment to the point of changing certain social media accounts, having my locked twitter account put on blast by somebody upset i blocked people not in my immediate social circle so i wouldn’t deal with awkward follow requests, somebody in my dms threatening suicide over his traced ship art for months at a time, getting vagued constantly and associated with actual abusive people and/or practices because i liked a character with four minutes of screentime AND OTHER INCIDENTS)…i realized that was a lot of emotions for a cartoon. especially a cartoon ive liked for a long time, since it started airing, and it’s a cartoon i would like to continue liking.

so i honestly don’t know what else this anon would want from me. i’ve already lost a few followers from my drop in fandom related activity, which i’m fine with, so if another person or multiple people would like to unfollow after this that’s fine too! it’s just tumblr, babes! curate your dash as you see fit! just don’t randomly pester people about a lack of content that was barely supported when it was being made, by a person who was constantly getting shit on by randoms because of said content while posting it :)

[saetoru]

Hi I've been following your blog for ages and I love ur writing and I think ur spitfire personality is so funny to see on dash too hehe. I haven't really interacted before bc im shy 😭 but yday one of your rbs struck a chord with me and I thought I'd finally break the ice

That post about telling white people to kill themselves xyz idk I just think it was quite a sad statement overall and idek if you agree with that take or entertain it at all but I feel like its so common all over tumblr :/

Its 1000% fair to call out people who are entitled and privileged, esp after generations of discrimination and trauma (Im a poc too and I've had my fair share of marginalisation) but to make such a sweeping statement about a whole race of people...

Theres lovely white people, and I've met some genuinely amazing, down to earth ones throughout my life who couldn't give a shit about what colour my skin is. On the other hand there's other white people who blatantly hate you for looking a certain way.

In the same way, there's amazing poc whilst there's also terrible ones too. I worked in retail for a year and both times I cried was because a POC verbally abusing me. One of my own race, telling me I should take off my hijab because I "don't know manners" after she screamed at me to return her items and I said I wasn't allowed to because she didn't have a tag which funnily enough is also racism.

The only point I'm trying to make is that unironically the world isn't black and white, and I feel like making sweeping statements about a whole race of people just feeds into the vicious cycle of hate that we're all trying to break out of in the first place.

I feel like saying this on tumblr on your own account is social suicide because everyone's so like omg white people kys 🙄🙄🙄🙄 so I thought I'd talk to you instead because you're eloquent, have a big platform and tbh I just wanna know more ab your takes on it all

hi !! while i’m very glad you think i’m an eloquent person to talk about this, and i’m flattered you think highly of me as motioned above, i think i’ll have to drop this topic with the simple fact that i think the humor of that reblogged post was that the blog dm’d someone and explained why they wanted to block them, that they didn’t know how to block them, and asked if the other person could block them for them. it was just the humor of that concept i think that made that post blow up and the irony of messaging someone u want to remove.

i don’t tell white ppl to kts for simply being white and i don’t think ppl should do that, but i also don’t rly want to get into racial discussions rn bc i don’t think that was the real point of that post.

anyway i appreciate ur thoughts—they were all interesting points and ur experiences are all valid and i’m sorry you went thru them, and i didn’t want to ignore u, but i hope u can understand i’m not rly looking to start this discussion !!

[scattered-winter]

qpr buddietalia... <333 my third eyes is wide open, thank u <3

btw, i agree with the disclaimer you posted! my relationship with Buddie The Ship and Buddie The Fandom are two very very very different things that i need to keep separate for my own sanity. you see, i love canon buddie as they are, and i personally do not think that it's realistic for them to become a romantic couple as of now (but you never know if there will be a massive shift in writing in the future), but i definitely love how people use the canon moments to write beautiful romantic buddie fanfics. their canon closeness and silliness and chemistry is superb fodder for my heart and soul– and what people do with it to create heartwarming stories is fantastic! it's a lovely ship that is blessed with tons of amazing writers.

however, around season 4, the buddie tumblr fandom started getting more hateful and the hate for other characters (especially female ones) got so loud and disproportionate that i simply had to unfollow the entire fandom. i could not even read buddie fic for 2 years and deleted most of my bookmarks of it because i could not stand the ship anymore. it left a horrible bitterness in my mouth imagining the characters even. and that was so sad to experience because ik that ultimately, the characters and the ship itself are not to blame. but the fandom experience was able to poison everything else to me, so i had to leave it behind for awhile. stopped watching 911, stopped seeing any 911 content on my dash. now, i am back to casually watching the show, and i can enjoy buddie fics again (thankfully, most of them tag character bashing correctly, so it feels safe enough to me), but i decided to never engage with any other buddie content (gifsets and such). i tried, but i often end up seeing twisted facts or misinterpretations or character hate interwoven in them that i just cannot stand anymore. i am a firm believer that buck and eddie girlies (gn) would actually kill each other if they weren't shipping buddie, but that's a totally different can of worms about the 911 fandom that i don't wanna open here lol.

what i mean to say is... enjoying a ship does not mean that we have to be 100% uncritical of the fandom! i do not think that you are a hater for bringing up reasonable critique! it can be a difficult balancing act sometimes, though, with how fast others sometimes judge fellow shippers in bad faith. i hope that whoever enjoys buddie in any capacity knows that they can enjoy it however they like, and that they should never feel pressured to enjoy it a certain way just because the fandom seems to dictate it. all this should be about your personal joy! romantic or platonic or qp buddie?? it's all good, as long as you enjoy yourself imo.

sending love, i hope you have a great day today! <3

YEAH I'm sorry it's been such a bad experience for u !! it always sucks ass when fandom takes the fun out of something :(

THANKFULLY I've sort of curated a little corner for myself in the fandom where I'm basically doing whatever the fuck I want and if everyone else leaves me alone I leave them alone (what I like to call Ye Olde Wild Animal Method) (and I don't think I have enough actual influence in this fandom to really piss anyone off which works for me I'm just vibing) and so far it's been working for me!! but I wasn't in the fandom to experience the Big Shift so. who can say. if there's anything the dc fandom has taught me, it's how to ignore 90% of a fandom for ur own sanity ndbsmvslsb

[jaegerisim]

Oh my god. It got worse. I'm so mad rn. Bitch, you can headcanon Mike as bi all u want but what u absolutely can not do is "headcanon" me as straight and biphobic for just one fucking post. Oh my god. Bitch why are you continuing to do this? Like why?? Why can't you just stfu???? It's easy as keeping my sexuality (bisexual), life and circumstances out of ur goddamn, ignorant mouth.

Let's check the fact shall we? Who is the biphobic here? The person who says a character is gay bc narratively it makes more sense and who as a bi person would dislike bi Mike or the person claiming someone suffers from internalized biphobia and implying they're straight for just one fucking post while knowing jackshit abt Abt who they are bc you've literally never interacted with them. The biphobe is certainly not me bc I'm not the one assuming things abt other ppl and erasing their sexuality and identity based on ONE POST. I can literally not stress that enough. Oh my fucking god. Girl (gender neutral) just let me be, ffs. We have each other blocked! Why continue this, huh?? You go back to posting abt Stranger Things and bi Mike, while I go back to posting my own Stranger Things stuff. Smh... How is that so difficult to understand?? 😐

Also sorry to my moots and followers seeing this in ur dash. I'm sorry 😔

THIS IS THE LAST POST IM MAKING ABOUT THIS.

OH MY GOD @will80sbyers has me blocked </3 smh... I was such a fan tbh.... Not anymore... They're saying IM biphobic bestie I am bisexual. Wdym?? 😑

[grandadtwelve]

otso (pronounced like “oat-soh”) ʕ•ᴥ•ʔ

he/they, 24yo, virgo, adhd, literature/writing degree, aspiring librarian

this blog is for my hyperfixations! so for now its: 60% doctor who, 30% the walking dead, and 10% other stuff (probably mostly iwtv and house md)

dw opinions:

☆ fave seasons: rtd era and series nine/ten, classic who seasons seven and eight

☆ fave doctors: twelve, nine, ten, eight, and three

☆ fave characters: missy, martha, jack, clara, bill, rose, river

☆ fave relationships (romantic & platonic) : thoschei, ninerose, doctorjack, tenmartha, twelveriver, ten & donna, twelve & clara, twelve & bill

☆ classic who: (check my #classic-who-rewatch tag) (so far) third doctor, jamie mcrimmon, liz shaw, delgado!master, sarah jane smith

other interests:

☆ house md, supernatural, bbc merlin, the witcher, lotr, ted lasso, interview with the vampire, fleabag, stranger things, studio ghibli, derry girls, the magicians, the secret garden, atla, & some other stuff

other blogs

☆ main: @teddypdf

☆ bookblr: @otsoreads

♡ pls send me asks and dms! i don’t have a lot of friends with the same interests as me so it would b rly nice to make some ♡

[sarioh]

hello. kittens be upon ye.

also i enjoy that all of us took it upon ourselves to send you cute pet photos to make you feel better. hermitblr is so cute fr.

first of all your cats are very cute and i am in love with them. but secondly YEAH<3 you’re absolutely right its very very sweet and i really do appreciate it. genuinely has made me feel a lot better so thank u everyone ^_^

[caruliaa]

hey ik tht obviously christianty has like. generally been a much worse force in the world but like when ppl use the blaze feature to also push islam onto people were also gonna call it out bc pushing ppls religions on other for no reason is wrong regardless right ? right guys ?

[chryblossomjjk]

practice (pt. 3) | jjk

⇢ PAIRING: fuckboy!jk x inexperienced reader

⇢ RATING/GENRE: m/18+ | college au, fwb, smut, fluff, angst

⇢ WC: 12.8k sorry

⇢ WARNINGS: emotional at points, fighting rip, oc lowkey in her villain era, they both say mean things to eachother (nothing tew intense), jk is not a himbo >:(, characters are forced to face their insecurites </3, misunderstandings, finger sucking, oral sex (f and m recieving), 69 action if u squint, brief ass eating, a little manhandling, titty sucking (obvi), flavored lube, butt plug moment, miss hitachi is finally here !!!, unprotected sex, corruption kink, squirting, overstimulation, slight dom jk, a bit of manhandling, praise, creampie, maybe unrequited love, maybe not (lol jk u'll find out), where's waldo but instead of waldo its bam

⇢ SUMMARY: sparks fly as you try to forget about jungkook.

⇢ NOTES: it’s finally here! if you haven't read pt 2 in a while, i'd suggest rereading it before reading this part! maybe even pt 1 bc callbacks. you might miss a few things if you don't. kinda nervy to post this bc everyone was so conflicted. hopefully the ending is satisfying for all. also sorry if the smut is meh, this piece was more plot driven than other things i’ve written. thank you so much for the love and support on this series. seriously cannot thank you guys enough. very bittersweet to be saying goodbye to it but i hope you stick around. love you and as always feedback is v appreciated !! big ty to @floweryjeons for betaing !!

⇢ SERIES MASTERLIST

dumbo do u want lunch? i can drop it off in about 30

You were midway through a three hour lab and you really needed to focus. Unfortunately, the professor’s droning was easily overtaken by incessant vibrating. You peek at your phone with a scoff before shoving it back into your pocket. 

Jungkook doesn’t get the hint.

dumbo i’ll just get the usu

dumbo lol i forget… ur lab is in room 305 in the civic engagement building right?

Room 222 in the science building. You don’t correct him, though. 

It was difficult to ignore the sharp, self-inflicted stabs that pierced through your back whenever he texted you. But you had to rip the bandaid off before it had time to adhere to you entirely. You hadn’t talked to him in days. Not since he lied to you.

Whenever you had the urge to respond, you went through memories. Pictures of him looking unamused, pink pout scrunched up as you smushed his cheeks together. Videos of his nostrils fluttering as blaring snores filled your dorm room; your soft giggles in the background.

Little snapshots of the present that were now the past. 

You were slowly weaning yourself off of Jeon Jungkook.

Your phone goes off again during your break. 

dumbo hey i’ve been waiting for like 20 min

dumbo gonna head out since ur probably caught up. free until about 4 tho so text me if u want anything i’ll come back

dumbo or we can just get something after the showcase?

dumbo are you running late?

dumbo you know it starts at 7p right?

dumbo ik you hate being late so i’m starting to get nervous…

dumbo just let me know that you’re safe please

Those texts were sent nearly three hours ago. You’ve tried to distract yourself with homework, Sailor Moon, and the watermelon mask you were currently washing off your face. Nothing helped. The guilt lingering in your chest was heavy and you wish it would trickle down the drain like the abandoned products. 

You sigh, shaking your hands vigorously to flick off the excess water. A damp knuckle presses your phone screen. It’s 10 p.m. on a Friday. Back at square one. 

The scent of your green tea moisturizer fills your nostrils as you glide the creamy substance over your skin. Fingertips dancing gently across the surface of your plump cheeks. The touch is soft and delicate, just like his was-

Intrusive thoughts make you want to remove your frontal lobe.

You try to remind yourself that although vibrant and dashing, Jungkook was anything but your knight in shining armor. Greedy. Disgusting. Selfish. Just like the rest of the men who tried to conquer the tall brick walls of your heart, mind, and body. 

You look at yourself in the mirror. Despite the brightening mask, your dewy skin was dull. The inner corners of your big eyes were overtaken by winding red branches. The thick black bags under them appear even heftier than your beloved Playboy duffel. Your plump lips are coated in your Laniege lip mask. It’s candy-flavored, but it doesn’t taste as sweet anymore. You look lifeless. 

Did cutting Jungkook off really affect you that badly?

Or perhaps you always looked like this, and the loss of him made you realize how truly gloomy and lackluster things were before.

For the past two months, your reflections were filled with pearly white teeth and crinkled eyes. Being with Jungkook was careless and irresponsible in all the right ways. Whenever you were with him, the negative thoughts that often plagued your mind were forgotten, and you were just… free. 

But look where that got you.

The sound of your phone pinging brings you back to reality. 

dumbo tae said that you’re home with mina…

Taehyung. What a little snitch. You’ll make sure that Mina punishes him adequately. 

dumbo not sure what your deal is but i’m fucking heated

“What do you know, Taehyung?” You sneer his name like a curse; the nasty ‘T’ word.

“I know everything,” he responds nonchalantly, flipping through his absolute mammoth of a textbook. He nods his head toward the guilty party beside him. “Your bestie told me.” 

“Liar!” Mina gasps, smacking his sweater-clad bicep. Her voice lowers immediately when Taehyung shushes her. You were in the library after all. She looks at you exasperatedly. “I didn’t tell him like- ‘everything’ everything.”

“I don’t need to know everything.” He closes the hardcover book gingerly, peering at you over the thick black rim of his glasses. You’re convinced they’re a sham, and he only wears them to look professional and intellectual. “My keen deductive reasoning has led me to the conclusion that this situation is—in fact—fucking ridiculous.”

You gawk at bluntness. “Aren’t you literally studying to be a therapist?” 

“Psychiatrist,” he corrects with a cheesy grin. “I’m allowed to tell you when you’re being childish.”

“Tae, be nice.” Mina warns with a scowl, holding her index finger out right in front of his nose. “I know Jungkook is your friend, but he’s grimy.”

“I swear, I’m not trying to be a dick.”  Taehyung laughs, raising his hands up in surrender. “I’m just giving perspective. I care about you, __.”

“Sure you do.” You answer curtly, rolling your eyes. 

“And-,” Taehyung claps his large palms together, fingertips pointed towards you in an accusatory fashion. “-I know Jungkook better than both of you.” He gestures between you and Mina. “He’s not a bad dude.” 

“He-,”

“He ditched her to go to a party!” Mina beats you to the punch, voice whiny and frustrated. “And lied about it! He’s trash!”

“Thank you, Mina,” you whisper-shout, placing a finger over your lips to remind her, once again, that you were still in the library. As much as you love her, you didn’t necessarily want all of campus knowing your dirty laundry. Your eyes scan the dimly lit room for eavesdroppers. Luckily, it was fairly empty at this time of day. 

“Why don’t you just talk to him?” 

“It’s not that simple, Tae,” you sigh, turning your attention back to the empty word document on your laptop screen. In the twenty minutes you’ve been sitting here, you have only managed to type the essay’s title and your name. Spelled wrong. Sneakily, you correct the typo before anyone notices. 

“Maybe…” Mina starts, lips scrunching to the side in contemplation. She looks at her boyfriend innocently before tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear. Playing all the right cards. “Maybe… you could talk to him for her? Or do a little snoopy snoop to see what he’s up to?”

“There’s no way in hell I’m playing double agent for you guys.”  

“Come on, Tae!” Mina pouts. “It could be fun!”

“No,” Taehyung laughs, shaking his head. “I refuse to get in the mid-,”

“Hey!” 

Taehyung’s words are cut off by an uncomfortably familiar voice. Its usual soft, playful tone was laced with sternness. The sound makes your spine straighten. 

Jungkook. 

You were so distracted that you hadn’t heard his clunky black boots stomping towards you. The firm grip of tattooed fingers on your shoulder makes you look up. Even under the rim of his bucket hat, you can see the angry stars dancing in his black eyes. They’re hot and scalding with irritation. “Can we talk?”

“About?” You peep in feigned naivety. 

“Oh, please,” he scoffs loudly, laughing in disbelief. The seat beside you is yanked out with a startling screech. Jungkook plops down on it and turns to face you, knees digging into your outer thigh. Always so incredibly close. “Don’t give me that shit-,”

“Jungkook.” Taehyung calls, trying to stifle the bubbling lava in Jungkook’s stomach before he erupts. It was rare to see his happy-go-lucky friend so agitated. “Chill.”

His eyes soften at the warning. It’s like Jungkook hadn’t even registered how angry he had actually become. The entirety of his college experience has been spent distancing anger—and any other negative emotion—so far from his being that he couldn’t even detect the cues anymore. He inhales deeply through his nose, white t-shirt pulling tight at his chest, before exhaling. 

“You good?” Taehyung asks. 

“Yeah, I’m good.” Jungkook nods, bringing a hand up to massage slow circles into his temple. Despite how upset you are with him, the self-soothing mechanism makes your heart ache. “I promise, I’m calm. I just want to talk.”

His pupils dart between the two unmoving figures across from you.

“Alone, please.”

Jungkook and Taehyung lock eyes for a moment, communicating silently through some bro-telepathy that has you and Mina exchanging confused glances. Suddenly, the curly-haired boy nods, collecting his textbook and intertwining his fingers with Mina’s. “Let’s go, babe.”

“Tae, wait!” Mina protests, trying to wriggle out of Taehyung’s grasp. She looks at you apologetically as her boyfriend urges her towards the exit, unable to break free. “Call me after, okay?” She shoots Jungkook a threatening glare before turning away. 

And just like that, you were left alone with the man you’d been avidly avoiding for the past week and a half. 

“Are you mad at me?” Jungkook questions, silver piercing glimmering in the light as he gnaws on his bottom lip. The pink skin under his bunny teeth was already turning red. “Like… did I do something wrong?”

You look everywhere but him, mindlessly scrolling up and down the empty page on your laptop screen. It was a poor attempt to act unbothered, despite the heavy thumping in your chest. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The showcase?”

“What about it?” 

Jungkook always took your attitude in stride, leveling your petty comments with kisses and playful eyerolls. This eye roll, however, paired with a painfully clenched jaw, is anything but playful. “Quit playing games, __. I’ve had enough,” he grits. 

He never calls you by your name. 

“Playing games,” you echo with a sarcastic laugh. In the pit of your stomach, you can feel the sadness morphing into a fit of heady anger. The words taste vile and sour on your tongue before they’re spewed at him. “That’s rich coming from you.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the puzzled expression on his face. Eyebrow piercing twitching in confusion as the cogs in his brain spin, trying to make sense of your words. “I don’t understand…” 

How does he not understand?

“Why didn’t you come to the showcase?”

You huff out a sigh, gaze fluttering to the ceiling. 

“Answer me,” he urges, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, clearly trying to shift your attention back onto him. As if that wasn’t what landed you in this position in the first place.

“Jungkook-,” 

Your voice gets caught in your throat when you feel his sharp exhales fan across your cheek. Fast and restless. It makes you miss the deep, peaceful ones he would make when buried under your heavy duvet; hair disheveled from tossing and turning and the brush of your fingers as you lulled him to sleep. His breath smells like toothpaste and vanilla gum. You glance at your taskbar. It’s 12:23 p.m. and he hasn’t eaten yet.

“I didn’t go because this is unproductive,” you sigh, closing your laptop and finally gaining the courage to face the man beside you. “You being in my life is unproductive.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Unproductive.” When your eyes meet his big dark ones, you can’t stand them. You can’t stand him for what he’s done, for how he’s turned something so special to you, so ugly. It coaxes that equally ugly, scaly, green defensiveness out of you. You want to retreat, and rebuild the walls higher, so that your emotional security would never be destroyed again. Anyone who threatened it would be burned, including Jungkook, sitting before you with doe eyes as you prepared to breathe fire in his direction. “I know it’s a difficult word, but you’re a big boy. Sound it out.” 

The look on his face makes you regret the low blow instantly. 

“Jesus,” he huffs, taking his hat off and scrubbing his hands over his face like he’s trying to wake up from a nightmare. “Why are you being-”

You cringe, expecting a nasty insult.

“-so mean?”

Oh. 

Ow. 

For some reason, that hurt more than any curse word would. 

“I’m not mean.” 

“I know you’re not,” he lifts his head, searching your face for any remnant of the girl he’s spent the last two months with. “So why are you acting like this?”

Your silence eggs him further. 

“You know what, I’m so fucking sick of you treating me like I’m stupid,” his eyes squeeze closed when he swears, nails digging into his tattooed knuckles as he crosses his big hands. The confession rips through him and hits you like a physical blow. You suddenly remember all of the times you’ve teased Jungkook about his major or insulted his intelligence. 

‘What tests? You’re a photography major.’

‘You’re an idiot, Jungkook.’

‘Your major is showing.’

You didn’t mean any of it. Not one bit. They were just shitty efforts to conceal your feelings for him. You never realized that Jungkook was taking your comments to heart. But it was too little too late. You can’t turn back time and the floodgates have already opened. 

“Just because I’m not some big-shot science major, doesn’t mean that I’m fucking brainless. And it certainly doesn’t mean that you’re better than me.” With his hat sitting on the glossy wooden table, you can fully see the angry arch in his brows. The scrunch in his nose intensifies as he seethes. “What? You think you’re too good to go to the showcase? If you didn’t want to come you should’ve grown a pair and said something.”

“It’s not that,” you protest, chin quivering with ugly dents as you try to hold back tears. “I just… figured you’d bring someone else.”

Jungkook pauses for a moment, cogs coming to a halt when he finally comprehends your vague statements. “Stop acting like you can read my mind- or that you know me better than I know myself.” He snatches his hat and drops it back on his head, fingers gripping the rim to adjust the position. “Because you clearly don’t know shit about me.”

You watch silently as he scoots his chair back, standing up with urgency. How did things come to this? Two months ago you were casual friends, now you’re fighting in the middle of the school library. You would’ve never let him into your dorm room that night if you knew it would hurt this bad. 

“And I actually thought-,” Jungkook says, turning to face you. His lips open and then close promptly before he waves a hand at you. “Fuck it, nevermind. I’m done.” 

You look extremely suspect.

Speeding through campus with your hood up, sweater strings almost dangling to the floor with how tight you’ve pulled them. You can barely see where you’re going. The small fluffy peephole you’ve provided yourself is no good for navigating the winding halls of the dreaded liberal arts building. 

You’ve been sleeping in later and later; a recent habit. Most days you felt drained, barely able to muster the energy to crawl out of bed. That’s exactly what happened this morning, hence why you’re marching down this evil, forbidden shortcut, in hopes of making it to class on time. 

It’s a Tuesday. Jungkook doesn’t have classes on Tuesdays. But you’ve done everything in your power to avoid him and the places he frequents. You haven’t heard from him since the.. incident. Not a single text or call. It hurt like hell, but what did you expect? You weren’t exactly nice to him the last time you two spoke. And it wasn’t like he cared to begin with. He was probably already buried in someone else; moaning blissfully. Meanwhile, you can’t even leave your damn room without thinking about him. 

Shut up, evil brain. Back to the matter at hand—getting to class. 

You decide that music is the best method of distraction. An exaggerated sigh slips out as you yank your phone out of your pocket. You’re just about to crank your airpods up when a couple of distant voices catch your attention. 

“These are from this weekend's showcase, we’re taking them down next week…” A muffled response that you can’t comprehend. “Yep, all are my students.”

You stop dead in your tracks.

The professor’s prideful tone rings in your ears, drowning out whatever breakup playlist you were previously listening to. The mention of a showcase, the showcase, makes your heart drop with a painful thud. 

Fuck.

Your skull feels exponentially heavier than normal when you lift it, finally breaking eye contact with the dingy concrete floor underneath you. There are pictures hung all along the white walls of the campus center. No doubt leftover from an event you deliberately skipped. 

You roll your head back, attempting to loosen the uncomfortable tension in your muscles. Anxiously gnawing on your bottom lip, you take in your surroundings. Jittery hands pluck out your headphones and plop them back into your Luna-shaped airpod case. Underneath all the sadness and guilt, your body was teaming with curiosity. 

You never found out what Jungkook’s topic of choice was. And now that you think about it, you haven’t seen any of his photography. Ever. 

A quick look wouldn’t hurt, right?

Besides, maybe this was what you needed to move on. A final goodbye to the man who has held your mind captive for far too long. 

With a deep exhale and a heavy heart, you take the plunge and step forward. You lull along the walls, staring wide-eyed at each photo. Most of them take on a dark modern vibe, displaying people and objects in dreary settings. A sea of gray and black. Devoid of color. You glance at the labels above. The topics chosen were gloomy, too. 

Hm. Life imitates art. 

You wonder if those students have had their hearts broken as well. 

A vibrant splash of color makes you halt. Your eyebrows furrow as you stare at the canvas. There’s a blood-red rose. The lens is so zoomed in that the flower eats up the entire portrait. You place a manicured digit against it, tracing your fingertip along the jagged veins in the delicate petals. The imagery is surreal, almost comparable to a heart. Not a cutesy cartoon heart—the literal human organ. You think it’s stunning, standing out amongst the rest like a beautiful sore thumb. 

The printed black font along the border makes your breath hitch.

Love - Jeon Jungkook.

The subject confuses you, but the photography makes sense. Of course, this was Jungkook’s work. It’s obnoxious, lively, and so incredibly different from the rest. Stunning and enchanting, nonetheless. The next photo in his set is of two shadows, a bit distorted as they're splayed against the concrete. A couple holding hands. You recognize the silhouettes immediately; Mina and Taehyung. You can’t fight the smile spreading across your face. 

Next in the portfolio is a room, white walls decorated with faux ivy vines. The little, golden lights laced throughout them gives the picture a warm saturated glow. At the center of the photo is a woman laying underneath a cream duvet. Her bare back is facing the camera, messy hair sprawled on the pillow. It’s a bit risqué, but you get how it connects to his chosen subject. It’s the aftermath of the physical act of love.

To any other student or teacher strolling by, the woman in the picture was a stranger. But to you, she’s the farthest thing from a stranger.

She’s you.

Jungkook must have taken it while you were sleeping.

A wave of the most perplexing, juxtaposing emotions washes over you. Your palms turn clammy as you try to process what you’re witnessing. Why would he do this? Include a picture of you in a project, literally titled ‘love’, only to fucking lie to you? To take advantage of your affection and string you along while he entertained another person?

You find the answers to your aimless questions in the next photo.

Fireworks. 

The only time you remember seeing or hearing fireworks was… 

The night of the party. 

“Jungkook,” you sigh, pressing your damp forehead against the grainy wood of his door. You never thought you’d be in this position. Chasing after a man. It’s humiliating and out of character, but you need to make things right. “I know you’re in there…”

You’ve been standing outside of his dorm room for the past ten minutes. Knocking, pleading, begging. All to no avail. The sound of rustling blankets and footsteps on the other side makes you lift your head, eyes widening with hope. The optimism is lost once the soft noises stop completely. They only served to confirm your suspicions. Jungkook is home and he’s purposely ignoring you. 

Oh, the irony.

Earlier in the week, the roles were reversed. Jungkook was the one pining for your attention. Now, you know exactly how he must have felt that day in the library. And you don’t like it one bit. 

“Look,” you huff, shaking a few clumpy strands out of your face. “I know you probably don’t want to talk to me right now… but I’m really sorry.”

The only response you receive is the whoosh of running water. 

Your shoulders slump in defeat. Obviously, he’s not going to answer the door. Why would he? He had every right to be mad. You hadn’t hesitated to dismiss him, and his passions, when you were the one upset.

You come to the grim realization that maybe things are better this way.

Jungkook is completely, entirely, wholeheartedly different from you, and you from him. So much so that you were incompatible. You’ve barely dipped your toes into anything serious, yet the two of you were already fighting and miscommunicating. It would never work, whatever it is. It couldn’t.

Deep down in your heart, you know none of that is true.

As much as you try to rationalize the distance, you can’t convince yourself that your life is better like this—because whenever you picture a future with Jungkook or reflect on the past, you see and feel nothing but sunshine. The walls begin to crumble and you feel free. Maybe, the characteristics of Jungkook you deemed annoying and different, were what made being with him so euphoric.

But none of that matters anymore. Whatever chance you had at that, at something more with him, you've completely destroyed. With a grimace and an awful pit in your stomach, you decide the best thing you can do for him is leave him alone. You adjust the takeout bags in your hand and begin to head out. 

Just as you reach the end of the dingy hallway, you hear a click and a loud creak. You spin so fast you almost get whiplash. 

Jungkook is standing in his doorway, looking at you blankly with a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. He’s shirtless, full muscles rippling under his milky skin. Normally you would ogle at the sight of his toned chest and defined abs, but your focus is elsewhere. Like on the red flannel sweatpants hanging loosely on his hips, sharp v-line peeking over the hem. You recognize them from the night you helped him study for an upcoming quiz. 

‘This is a conspiracy,’ he grumbled, convinced the test was an elaborate scheme by the school committee to punish him for his frequent drunken mishaps and countless guideline violations. You laughed, resting your head on his shoulder as you helped him memorize terms and ideas. You guys didn’t leave the library until 2 a.m.

He looks warm and cozy. Dark tresses swooping in messy waves across his forehead as he peers at you with doe eyes. After not seeing him or checking in on him for a while, you let out a sigh of relief. 

“Hi.” 

“Hey,” he mumbles softly, voice coming out muffled over the bristles of his toothbrush. He pulls it out, letting out a tiny ‘oops’ as a glob of toothpaste hits the floor. He wipes it away with his foot before continuing. “What are you doing here?”

“I…” Everything you wanted to say had trickled out of your mind like the little droplets of water running down your skin. 

He meets your silence with an unamused squint and starts to close the door. 

“Jungkook, wait!” You shout, taking a few frantic steps closer. “I saw the showcase!”

He pauses. “You did?” His thick brows slant in confusion. “How?”

“It’s still up in the liberal arts building.”

He nods his head slowly as an awkward quietness falls over the corridor. You can tell he’s still upset with you and the tension makes you queasy. 

“I have pancakes,” you offer nervously, lifting up the crinkled plastic bags in your hand. It’s so damn cheesy. But you're trying your best. You prayed that he understood the reference, and remembered how he showed up to your dorm in the same exact way. The fateful night that started it all. 

“Interesting.” His nose twitches as he tongues the little hoop on his bottom lip. Obviously fighting a smile. Thank God. “What kind?”

“Chocolate chip… your favorite.” 

He hums a contemplative noise, scanning you up and down. Your hair is dripping. The pink velvet hoodie you’re wearing is clinging to your figure in ways he knows it isn’t supposed to. “Why are you wet?”

“It’s raining,” you point out. 

Jungkook glances over his shoulder, glancing into his room and out the window at the cloudy, gray sky. There’s a change in his expression when he faces you again. “You walked here in the rain?”

You nod meekly. 

The harsh glint in his eyes softens. He sighs deeply, head dropping in defeat as he holds out a colorful arm, inked digits gesturing for you to come closer. “C’mere, Bambi. I’ll get you some clothes.”

Bambi. 

You’ve never been so elated to hear that nickname. 

“Thank you,” you peep, scurrying towards his open door before he changes his mind and sends you packing. Goosebumps form on your skin when your bicep brushes against his bare chest as you hastily enter the room. The light touch leaves your cheeks hot.

“Hold on,” he says, disappearing into his tiny bathroom. You set the pancakes on top of his nightstand, awkwardly standing in the middle of his dorm. This isn’t exactly how you envisioned your first time at Jungkook’s place would go.

While idly taking in your surroundings, you spot a little whiteboard above his bed. On it, scribbled in blue marker, is the biggest boobs you’ve ever seen in your life. There’s a heart eyes emoji tacked on in the corner. A good artistic detail, you think. You should be rolling your eyes at his boyishness. That’s what you always do. But an endeared laugh comes out instead. 

Why was a poorly drawn pair of tits making you soft?

Right underneath the whiteboard is a collage of taped pictures. You bend at the waist for a better look. There’s a polaroid of him and Taehyung, arms intertwining at the elbows, both downing a dark, probably alcoholic, beverage. How cute of them. The next photo is of Jungkook on a rollercoaster, tongue out and eyes crinkled as he middle fingers the camera. So wild and free. Your heart swells in familiarity. 

But the more you stumble upon, the more unfamiliar Jungkook becomes. There’s a few blurry pictures of a big black dog he’s never spoken about before. The next one has you gushing. It’s a candid image of baby-faced Jungkook, holding up his high school diploma with a proud, big, bunny smile. There’s an older woman in the frame kissing his cheek. You tilt your head in confusion. You wonder if it’s his mother. You had just assumed he couldn’t stand his parents and didn’t keep in contact with them.

Maybe… you don’t have Jungkook figured out like you thought you did. There’s still so much you have to learn. You make a mental note of all the questions you want to ask him later. 

That is if there even is a later. 

The bathroom door opens and Jungkook walks out. “Here,” he says, handing you a pile of neatly folded clothes. There’s an oversized black hoodie on top. Your favorite sweater, the one you always steal from him. You watch sullenly as he sits down on the edge of his bed. 

“I’m sorry,” you reiterate, absolutely loathing how weak and frail you sound. Jungkook doesn’t respond. He just stares into your soul with those scrutinizing eyes. “Can you talk to me, please?”

“I wanted to talk at the library,” he groans, arms jolting forward in frustration, fingers painfully flexed and hooked like claws. His bare chest flushed an angry red. “I’ve been trying to talk to you. All fucking week!”

Startled, you jump at his voice, dropping the stack of clothes you were holding. Jungkook’s eyes widen.

“Ah, I-'' he interrupts himself with a shameful hiss. You pick up the fallen fabrics with shaky hands, placing them on his nightstand with the forgotten pancakes. Jungkook digs the heels of his hands into his eyes, too apologetic and embarrassed for losing his cool to look at you. “I’m sorry.”

To be fair, he hadn’t been that loud. It was more abrupt than anything else. But your Jungkook was as happy and carefree as the wind. This side of him was new, and you were still figuring out how to navigate the uncharted waters. “It’s okay.” You can’t blame him. Not after everything you’ve done. “You’re allowed to be mad.” 

“I’m not mad,” he sighs. The tattooed fingers splayed over his eyes slide in to clamp the bridge of his nose. The other hand pats the spot next to him on the black comforter. “Come here.” 

“But,” you look down at the damp clothes, “I’m wet.”

“It’s fine. Sit down.”

You listen, cautiously sinking down into the bed. Despite the copious amounts of nude escapades, you’ve never felt more vulnerable with him. Usually, when you’re in bed with Jungkook, he’s panting above you, sleeping below you, or lying beside you. Head snuggled into your neck like an annoying, albeit affectionate, cat. Now, you make sure to keep your distance, anxiously picking at your chipped nail polish. 

“What happened?” He questions breathlessly, relieved to finally verbalize the words that were weighing heavy on his chest. “Everything was going great and then you switched up on me. Like the showcase? Really, Bambi? I was the only person there without a guest.”

The disappointment in his voice cuts you deep, but the vision of him at the event he had been so excited for, completely alone, hurts even worse. You were his muse, and you rejected him. Looking at him was an awful decision, because you get lost in his eyes immediately. Those beautiful, captivating, endless eyes. Filled with pain and uncertainty. You realize the only way to make that awful look disappear, is to confess…

“I really like you, Jungkook… a lot. Like- more than just friends…”

Once again, you’re met with silence. Jungkook’s face is unreadable yet so familiar. You've seen that expression before. You can’t pinpoint when or where exactly, but it makes your heart pound so loudly that your ears ring.

“So,” you continue shakily, “the last time we hung out—when you canceled our plans—I got really upset.”

“I was finishing my project.” 

“But then I saw a picture of you at a party-,”

“Yeah,” he defends, looking at you exasperatedly, unable to follow your train of thought. “I wanted to take pictures of the fireworks.” 

“I know that now,” you admit, shifting uncomfortably in your seat, “but the picture was from Nayeon’s Instagram.” 

“Nayeon?” He frowns. “I haven’t talked to Nayeon in months.”

“But you guys were-” your eyes dart around in search of the right phrasing. You settle on ‘a thing’, putting little air quotes around the ambiguous title. 

“Why does that matter?” He asks incredulously. “Her and I ended things before we even started hooking up. I haven’t had sex with anybody else since we’ve been a thing.” The last part is teasing, he mimics your air quotes as his pierced pout curls into a smirk. Ah, Jungkook gets it now. Your unbecoming actions over the course of the week were a product of jealousy and possessiveness. Any lingering trace of anger is washed away with the revelation. “I told you that.”

“Yeah, but…” After mulling over your thoughts, you hesitate to speak. You hadn’t realized how ridiculous and childish you were being until now. Taehyung was right after all. “I don’t know, the way you said it seemed… fishy.”  

Jungkook deadpans you before shaking his head, chuckling under his breath. You watch it all unfold awkwardly. How embarrassing. 

“It’s not funny, Jungkook!”

“Ah!” He echos your shouts through a laugh, cupping your head with his large hands and jittering it gently. “Stop thinking! Your brain is evil!”

Hm. Valid point. 

“In my defense,” you retort, cuffing his wrists with your tiny hands. His skin is warm and soft. You’ve missed touching him so much. “You literally mentioned Nayeon while we were having sex.”

The playful stars in his eyes combust. “Huh?”

“Oral fixation.” 

His eyes widen in remembrance. “Oh shit,” he groans, slumping down, hands dropping into his lap. “Looking back, that was so fucked, but I- I just thought it was funny. I swear I didn’t mean anything, like- bad by it. I-.” Frustrated by his own stuttering and lack of judgment, Jungkook mushes his fingers into his sockets before laying down in defeat. “That was so fucking stupid of me. I’m stupid. I’m sorry, Bambi.”

Stupid. 

That word coaxes a visceral reaction out of you. 

“Don’t say that,” you whisper. His tattooed fingers part in the middle as he hesitantly peeks at you. You giggle for a moment, and so does he, but then you feel the gravity of the situation. Sniffling, you look down at the beautiful boy. How could you have ever been so nasty to him? You push his bangs back gently. They’ve gotten longer. Cupping his cheek, you slowly brush your thumb across his soft skin. You’re afraid that if you’re too rough, he’ll slip right through your fingers. “You’re not stupid, Jungkook... I’ve never met anyone who sees the world how you do. You’re so creative and clever in your own right… I’m sorry if I made you feel like you weren’t, because I don’t think that at all.” Voice crack. “I never did.”  

“Hey,” Jungkook coos in concern. “It’s okay.” 

“No, it’s not okay,” you argue, blinking furiously to fight back the waterworks. “And I’m really sorry about the showcase. I know how important it was to you.” 

“Shh,” he shushes, “please don’t cry.” He catches your hand and brings it to his mouth, pressing the sweetest, gentlest kiss to your fingertips. “You apologized, so we’re good, yeah?” 

“Mhm,” you sniffle. It feels like a ton of bricks have been lifted off of your shoulders. “For what it’s worth, your portfolio was gorgeous.”

“Nah,” he teases, wrapping an arm around your waist and encouraging you to lay down with him. “You’re only saying that because you were in it.” You smile softly, thankful for his light-hearted banter. You stay like that for a while. Face to face. Just looking at one another. You think you could stay like this forever, basking in his beauty. His warmth. Jungkook speaks first. “Why didn’t you just talk to me about the picture?” 

“I guess, I was just scared of losing you… but then I just started ignoring you, which doesn’t make sense… so probably should’ve just talked to you about it.” The stream of consciousness makes him laugh. “I really like you, Jungkook.”

“I don’t do relationships.” 

You feel your heart shatter into a million, irreparable pieces. 

How cruel. 

“Wait, those aren’t the right words,” Jungkook shakes his head. “What I meant to say is that I’ve never actually been in a relationship.” The stammered admission has you stunned. Campus fuckboy Jungkook has never been in a relationship? “And I have no fucking clue what I’m doing but… I really like you, too. I want you, I do… I don’t know how good of a boyfriend I’ll be but,” he looks at you for the first time throughout his nervous ramble. His eyes are just as terrified as yours. “I’m willing to try if you are.”

You blink at him. Did he just say… boyfriend? 

“__,” Jungkook calls, anxiously toying with his lip ring. “Do you want this?”

You’ve never wanted anything more. 

Without warning, you smash your lips into his. This kiss is sloppy and brash, but he’s yours. Jungkook is yours. “I think you chipped my tooth,” he winces, chuckling breathlessly. “Is that a yes?”

You nod vehemently. 

“Okay,” he smiles, tilting your chin, “now give me a real kiss. None of that amateur shit you just pulled.” 

You kiss him again, head full of clouds and tummy full of butterflies. Jungkook grabs under your thighs, maneuvering you on top of him, knees on either side of his cinched waist. Your lips are more controlled this time. There’s a little tongue action. Nothing too dirty, just soft brushes and prods like you’re two virgins testing the waters. Everything is slow and unhurried. You feel like you’re floating, levitating, fucking astral projecting.

“There we go,” Jungkook grins, the rounded tip of his nose tickling yours. It’s so sappy, and you can only imagine how dumb you two look, staring at each other with sparkly eyes and goofy smiles.

Jungkook is still Jungkook, though.

A sneaky hand and the grinding of a zipper interrupts the cute moment.

“You perv!” You shriek, giggling wildly as you swat his naughty fingers away. The damage is done, and the sleeve of your open sweater slips down your bare shoulder. “Is sex all you think about?”

“Mm,” he hums in confirmation, placing a peck on the newly exposed skin. “Sex with you,” he specifies before peeling the damp material from your arms and tossing it onto the floor. You cringe at the clanging of your expensive, deadstock, Juicy Couture hoodie. “Why are you so covered up?” Jungkook sits up to suck on your erect nipple, right through your translucent, white tank top. Whimpering, you grind against him. “You gotta take this off…” he sighs dreamily, yanking the pesky shirt over your head.

Wow. He’s extra needy today. Not that you’re complaining. 

“Jungkook,” you complain, arms crossed over your chest. “Stop staring!”

“Why are you being so shy?” He does this often. Gawks at your naked body until your skin burns and your cheeks sting. It's a strange feeling. So uncomfortable yet so reassuring. You’ve never had a man look at you the way Jungkook does, like he’s trying to remember every birthmark, curve, and detail. That level of intimacy was scary. You can’t help but squirm under his intense gaze. “You’re my girl now, aren’t you, baby?

His girl. You swoon. 

“I am, it’s just kinda awkward.” 

“How so?” He patronizes, bottom lip jutting out in a deep pout. “Can’t I look?”

“You can just… don’t stare.”

“I do what I want.” The sudden switch in his voice makes your breath hitch. “Move your arms. Let me see you.”

Oh. He’s in one of those moods. 

You and Jungkook rarely dabbled in sub and dom dynamics. Maybe, he was too afraid of intimidating you. Maybe, you were too afraid to initiate. But boy was his aggressiveness a treat. The duality between the relaxed attitude he carried in his everyday life, and the occasional primal beast that came out during sex, made your mouth water. 

“Really?” He tuts his tongue when you counter him with a scowl, raising a threatening brow at you, code for ‘go ahead, test me’. You do, not moving a muscle. 

Jungkook physically pries your arms apart and twists them behind your back, holding your wrists together in one hand. The swift movement makes you gasp.

“This okay, Bambi?” 

All you can see over the bubbles of your cheeks is his tangled, black hair. His forehead rests against your collarbones, sharp exhales fanning across your chest. The hot gusts make your nipples pebble and the light stimulation sends a jolt of electricity coursing through your spine.

“Yes,” you whimper. 

Using his free hand, Jungkook grips your jaw, indulging you in a sweet kiss. “Good girl.” The whispered praise has your clit throbbing. He turns your face towards the sleek mirror mounted on the wall. “Look at you, baby.”

Insecurity looms over you like a black raincloud as you’re forced to look at the reflection. The sight of your nude body makes you feel icky. Instinctively, you try to jerk away.

 “Hey, stop-” he gruffs, tightening his grip to cement you in place. “Chill. Take a deep breath.” 

You obey, closing your eyes and inhaling deeply.

“Why are you so combative today?” The rough edge falters for a moment when Jungkook confirms that he ‘just learned that word yesterday from a synonym website’. You giggle. Why must he be so adorable? “Don’t I always take care of you?”

“You do.”

“Do you trust me?” You nod. “Use your words, baby.”

“I trust you, Jungkook.”

“Good girl,” he smiles, making you face the glass again. His touch is much more gentle this time, guiding you with a delicate finger on your chin. “Don’t look at me,” Jungkook chuckles when he catches you staring at him and then points at your bewildered expression, “eyes on you.”

Despite the initial resistance, looking own reflection isn't as difficult as it was the first time. There’s little things you pick up on, like the way your thick, fluffy hair lays. The way your chest looks so supple pressed against his. How your hips curve out at the right angle. Your skin is smooth and poreless. That Laneige toner is really out here doing the lord's work.

“Look at how beautiful you are.”

Although Jungkook’s words are sweet, you wouldn’t go that far. But you guess, one could say you’re cute—which is more credit than you’ve given yourself in a while.

“Aren’t you so beautiful, baby?”

You hum to appease him, but this experience was definitely a start. You’re gaining self-confidence, one baby step at a time. “You’re beautiful, too.”

“You think so?” He asks airily, flashing one of those teeny tiny smiles he does, where only his two front chompers poke out. You swear this man is an angel, or some mythical being that was too ethereal to exist on planet Earth. Mumbling a small ‘uh huh’, you peck at the corner of his mouth. His silver hoop feels icy against your lips, but his hands, rubbing soothing lines up your back, are so warm. “I wish you saw yourself the way I do,” he says with sparkly eyes. “How could I want anyone else, Bambi?”

Your heart swells two sizes too big and you don’t even know how to respond. 

“Alright, space girl,” Jungkook chuckles at your ditzy state, delivering a quick swat to your ass to bring you back to reality. An impatient, tattooed arm is hooked under your thigh, tossing you to the side before he gets to his feet. “Lay down. ‘S been a while since I ate that pussy.”

“Wait,” you say, unphased by his lewd comment. “Can I…” you look down at his crotch, “you know?”

“What?” He smirks at your vagueness. “Suck my dick?”

Foreplay normally consisted of Jungkook’s head between your thighs, his fingers milking your g-spot, or a shy handjob here and there. Now that he’s your boyfriend, you suppose it’s finally time to return the favor. Especially since he looks so delicious with his messy hair and his pretty tits out. 

“Please,” you choke, cheeks burning with embarrassment at how quickly the plead slipped out. 

“You don’t have to beg,” he purrs, stepping between your parted thighs sat at the edge of his bed. You gulp, nose aligned with his growing bulge. “Actually, yes, you do,” he retracts, swiping his big thumb across your bottom lip tauntingly. You’re dripping, already knowing where things are headed. “Been a bad girl lately, haven’t you?”

“Yeah,” you pout, shrinking under his beady eyes, peering right at you over his big nose. “But you said we’re passed that.”

“We are,” he agrees, “but I could use some reassurance. Wanna give me a little bit, baby?” 

“How?”

“Suck it,” he requests, tapping his thick digit against your deep frown, “show me how good you’re gonna blow me… just so I know…”

God, you can’t deny him. Not when his voice is drenched in lust and he looks that yummy.  Flicking your hair over your shoulder, you grab his wrist, taking his thumb into your mouth, all the way down to his palm. Moaning, you swirl your tongue around the pad. He plays along, plunging and pulling his finger into your wet suction. Your lips are going to look so fucking pretty around his cock, Jungkook thinks. 

“‘Kay, no more,” he says, voice strained as he yanks his hand away. The movement makes you accidentally bite your tongue. Asshole. He proceeds to tangle his spit-covered hand into your hair. Major asshole. With a thick fistful, Jungkook shoves you into his clean-shaven pelvis. “Am I hard yet? Check for me?”

He knows he’s hard. You know he’s hard. But you indulge him anyway, mushing a sloppy kiss into his v-line. The view of his eyes is disrupted by the heavy heaving of his chest, and his cute little nipples; spiked and erect. Dipping down, you place a loving peck on the tip through his pants. The red material is damp from his arousal. “Yep, hard.”

“Cute,” he laughs in reaction to how sweet and innocent you look down there. “Take it out, then.”

You tug his pants down, letting them pool at his ankles. His boner springs up with vigor, whacking you in the nose on its path up to his navel. “Oh fuck,” he gasps, smacking a hand over his mouth in guilt. You glare at him, suspicious of how genuine that ‘guilt’ really is. Something you’ve noticed about Jungkook is that his smiles reach his eyes first. You don’t need to see his lips to know he’s holding in a laugh. The little stars in his irises and the crinkles in the outer corners blow his facade. “You okay, Bambi?”

“Control your dick, Jeon,” you sneer.

“Can’t,” he pouts, wrapping his palm around his tree-trunk-sized base while kicking his pants aside, “he wants you.” You’re impressed at how quickly he steers the conversation back to sex. Also, personifying his dick? That’s new. Clicking his tongue, Jungkook measures his hard cock across the length of your face. If it wasn’t for the curve, his pretty pink tip would be touching your hairline. “How’s he gonna fit, baby? You sure you can take it?”

The questions were rhetorical, purely dirty talk, but they held a piece of the intimidating truth. “I don’t know,” you respond honestly. 

“Have you ever done this before?” Sensing your nerves, he pulls back a bit.

“Only once,” you shiver, recalling the questionable memory. “So I don’t know how good I’ll be at this…”

“Pfft,” he dismisses your concerns, “don’t worry about that.” He pets your cheek and you nuzzle into his touch, thankful for the comforting gesture. Then, Jungkook plops down, shimmying up the bed clumsily until he’s hunkered down in his pillows. Following suit, you turn to face him and begin tying your hair up. 

“Wait!” He hollers, stopping you at the elbow. His eyes widen at his own unexpected outburst. “Leave it, please. I like it down…” he coughs, “so pretty.” 

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see your frizzy baby hairs shooting wildly in all different directions. Pretty? Regardless, you let go, messy strands falling in loops against your chest and back.

“I have flavored lube if that helps. In my nightstand.”

Of course, Jungkook owns flavored lubricant. It's pretty on-brand for him. But your eyes nearly pop out of your skull when you open his top drawer, unveiling almost an entire Adam & Eve store. 

That’s a stretch and you’re dramatic.

Still, you stare in wonderment. There’s an unopened pack of condoms, ‘ribbed for her pleasure!’ printed on the front in purple letters. The blue and white wand next to it makes you choke. The Hitachi. It’s much bigger than you expected, but it makes sense. If it’s as powerful as Jungkook boasted, it must need a fucking car battery. You gulp. 

“Snooping through my things, Bambi?” 

“No,” you squeak, shaking your head. “You have quite the collection here, Mr. Jeon.”

“Mr. Jeon, that’s sexy,” he laughs, making you jump with an unexpected smack to your ass. “See anything you like?”

Cheeks ablaze, you stay focused, finally spotting the little aqua bottle of… blue raspberry flavored lubricant? You pick it up, causing a shiny piece of metal with a little glint of pink to roll out.

“Really, dude?” 

Jungkook’s brows furrow in confusion until he sees the silver butt plug, decorated with a pretty pink gem on the end. Absolutely perfect for you. “Oh, yeah,” he snatches the toy from your clammy hand and eyes it with pride. “Isn’t it pretty?”

“I can’t believe you actually bought one.”

“Why not? I said I was going to.”

“I know,” you huff with a nervous snicker, “but I didn’t think you were actually going to do it.”

“I mean,” he looks at you like you’re brainless, “you like anal, no?”

“No!” You shriek defensively. Anal play wasn’t even on your sexual radar...

Well, that’s not entirely truthful.

You enjoyed it the last time you had sex with Jungkook, in the shower, getting stretched out by his thick thumb in your butt. You remember how mindblowing and pleasurable it felt to be full. “Well, maybe. I don’t know.”

“That’s okay,” he smiles reassuringly. “We don’t have to use it. I just figured it’d be nice to have, in case you wanted to experiment, you know?” 

He’s so sweet and thoughtful it makes you ill. 

Now that you think about it, your sexuality is basically untapped. You’ve barely scratched the surface of self-discovery. Before Jungkook, you’ve never had a man care about your pleasure, or encourage you to take risks for your own sake. No ulterior motives. Being with Jungkook was like skydiving. Horrifying at first, life-changing once you took the plunge. With him, the parachute was there whether you decided to jump or not. You know that you’re safe, so why not take the plunge?

“Actually, Jungkook,” you stammer, “I kinda wanna try it… the butt plug.”

“You sure?” 

“I’m positive.”

The conviction in your voice is like a beautiful ballad in his ears. Brick by brick, you’re opening up. Every day spent together, the walls erode a bit more. 

“I got the smallest size I could find, see?” He holds the toy up to his thumb to demonstrate. It’s only a little longer, a little thicker. “So it’s not that far off from what you’re used to.”

“Thank you, baby,” you gush, planting a fat kiss on the dough of his cheek. The contrast between his bready, baby face and his razor-sharp jawline makes you dizzy. You need him in your mouth asap. “Can I suck your dick now?”

“Absolutely, but first can you-,” his index finger twirls in a circle. You blink at him blankly. “Ah, fuck it.” Deciding it’d be much easier to move you himself, Jungkook sits up at the waist to spin you until you're face to face with his third leg, resting patiently against his stomach. The modified 69 has you creaming. “Like that…” he mumbles dreamily, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your track pants, tugging them down your thighs to expose your perky behind and glowy cunt. 

“I don’t know where to start.”

“Innocent little thing…” he whispers, smoothing a palm over your lower back. He leans up to chomp on the fat of your ass cheek, leaving bunny-toothed dents in your skin. A predator eating its prey. “Want help?”

“Please,” you mewl, melting under his touch. 

“Spit,” he orders, cupping an inked hand under your mouth. Reluctantly, you spit into his palm. He uses your saliva to wet himself, coating his unbearably hard cock with a few languid pumps. Opening the cap, Jungkook squirts a little drop of lubricant onto his finger. “Taste.”

You softly suck on his fingertip. The liquid is sweet like a blue raspberry jolly rancher, but it’s not nearly as sweet as Jungkook’s deep guttural moan and hooded gaze. So worked up just for you. Only you. Yours.

“This, too,” he coos, bringing the butt plug up to your lips, “suck it.”

Seeing him this needy and touch-starved was doing things to you. Maybe you should ignore him more often, if it meant that he would be this feral. You comply, wrapping your lips around the icy metal.

“Being so good, baby,” he affirms, resting the drenched plug against his solid stomach before squirting a generous amount of lubricant onto his length, tugging until he’s glistening with a sticky blue sheen. Big and pretty. “Just start with the tip, alright? Go slow.” 

You nod, mesmerized by the little bead of dew resting on the slit of his pretty pink head. Well, it’s a bit blue now. Cotton candy. Yummy. 

“Stick your tongue out.” You do, hovering closer. Jungkook taps his length against your tongue with nasty, wet smacking noises. “You want me so bad, don’t you?” 

You nod impatiently, making your flat tongue brush against the crown of his leaking cock

“Fuck,” he groans, “put it in your mouth.”

There are a few reasons why you find blowjobs problematic. Unfortunately, you were cursed with an annoyingly overactive gag reflex. Very unideal for dick sucking. However, your primary concerns were taste and texture. But Jungkook’s cock feels like butter when you take it into your mouth. Smooth and silky. And the lubricant made him candy-flavored.

“You like that taste, Bambi?” Jungkook chuckles at how eager and dutiful you look, licking and sucking on his swollen tip like a lollipop. You hum in response, slowly swirling your tongue around his tip with purpose. Giving you a hand, literally and figuratively, Jungkook starts stroking the shaft, stimulating the parts of him you have yet to gobble up. “Want more?” You’re not sure what he’s referring to, but you agree anyway, completely entranced by him. With that, Jungkook squeezes under the tip, and you feel a tiny burst of precum hit your tastebuds. 

He’s so sexy you could die. 

Moaning, you clench your thighs together for some much needed friction, causing a single drop of wetness to trickle down your leg. Right before his very eyes. He’s never been so hungry, and it would be so easy to just…

“Jungkook!” You moan so loudly you’re sure everyone on campus can hear it. He had laid his tongue flat, trailing your arousal back up to your pussy and then sensually dipping between your folds in one hot lick. He even traces higher, prodding against your other hole until you’re seeing stars.

“Watch your teeth,” he winces when you get carried away, “be gentle, baby.” Peeping a shy apology, you curl your lips over your teeth and slide down past the tip until you’re halfway down his length. You focus on your breathing, nostrils expanding as you inhale deeply. “That’s it, take more.” 

So captivated by his ‘yeahs’ and ‘uh huhs’, you miss the sound of a cap clicking open. Suddenly, you feel a cold drizzle slide between your cheeks, before a pair of warm hands spread the slippery substance all over. He uses the residual to thoroughly coat the butt plug. 

“Gonna put it in now.” He spreads you open with one hand, pressing the silver against your clenched muscle. “Let me know if anything feels off.” 

The initial push is a bit much. You pull off of him with a wet pop, whimpering as he sluggishly inserts the foreign object. He stops at the sound of your whines. 

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah- fuck,” you grunt, “big, thas all. Please, keep going.”

“I mean, it’s not that big,” Jungkook chuckles, running some saliva over the toy for more moisture, “you’re taking it well, though.” Slowly but surely, he works you open. The noises you moan around his cock are obscene. Not because it hurts, but because it’s so satisfying. 

“Feels good, Koo…”

“Sheesh,” he breathes, staring in astonishment at the pink gem in your ass, “it’s so fucking pretty. So sexy.” In his fucked out, head empty state, Jungkook bucks up, shoving all eight of his curved inches down your throat. He doesn’t realize what happened until you pull off with a gag and teary eyes. 

“Bambi,” he coos wearily and fear ridden. “I didn’t mean to do that, I swear.” 

You send him the meanest, fiercest glare you can conjure up, hoping his conscience burns just as much as your throat does. 

“No, come on,” he pleads in despair, reaching for you as you crawl away, “I’m sorry. It was an accident. I wo-,” 

You shut him up by hoisting a shaky leg over his hip, straddling him. “You really can’t control yourself, can you?” You hover over him with a teasing smile. How could you possibly stay mad at him when he looked like Tuxedo Mask? The dreamy love interest of your favorite cartoon. 

He sighs in relief, panic leaving his body as fast as it came. “No, I can’t,” he smiles softly, shaking his head and snaking both arms around your waist, “not with you.”

And at that moment, you swear you’ve never been happier. 

The closeness you felt was indescribable. Not physically, although his python grip was warm and comfortable. It was all emotional. You’re spiraling out of control, heading flipping and stomach somersaulting, but it’s okay—a contained type of chaos. Jungkook feels it too. The shift in the air. The subtle, yet painfully obvious, change in your dynamic. You’re different this time around. A little more outgoing. A little more fearless, as you sit on top of him. He loves it. He thinks he might even love…

“You gonna ride me, Bambi?”

“Mhm.” You feel like a schoolgirl again when you kiss him. That nervousness, wrapped in unbearable excitement, whenever you passed your first crush in the halls. Yeah, that's how you feel right now, looking down at the most stunning person you’ve ever experienced. 

Sparks. Fireworks. Butterflies.  

You and Jungkook exchange shy smiles when your hands touch, reaching for his erection, desperate to close the gap and become one. So ready to connect your bodies, minds, and hearts in the most intimate way. Clumsily, you fail at first. You’re both so wet that his flushed tip slips, completely missing your entrance and sliding past your clit. 

“Sorry,” you chirp abashedly. 

“That’s okay,” he pipes, holding himself up for you, “try again.” Just the thick head of his cock resting against your folds is enough to know that there’s going to be an adjustment period. A stretch. There always was, Jungkook is fucking huge. But you have a feeling that this new position would hit differently, making him feel bigger, harder, longer. With a firm grip on your hip, he guides you down onto his piercing length. A symphony of moans and sighs fills the room. 

“How’s that?”

You’ve never felt so full.

The butt plug makes the squeeze even tighter, pushing his cock right into your g-spot. The burn ignited a mind-numbing fire inside of you. That, or he was just so deep that you felt him in your stomach. “‘S okay,” you whimper, gnawing on your lip and clinging onto him for stability, “really deep like this, Koo.”

“Take your time,” he gruffs, wincing under the dig of your petite fingers, making little crescent indents in his biceps. Amid sex, the tension in your body served as a reminder that you’re still learning. He was doing his best to be good, but the way your pussy just swallowed him up like that, triggered something primal. Tightest, wettest pussy he’s ever had the blessing of penetrating. Biting his tongue until his mouth tastes metallic, Jungkook battles the urge to thrust up into you until you’re dumb and drooling. He’s trying so hard to be good. The internal struggle is heard in his voice when he speaks, strained and gravely. “Start slow.” 

Eventually, the tiny licks of pain transform into a milky, insatiable hunger. When you look down at him, all you see is the base of his thick neck, head thrown back as he succumbs to the gratification of your walls. ‘Wow, what a man,’ you think to yourself. Your man. Encouraged by your eagerness to please, you begin sloppily jerking your hips at a fast pace. No flow or rhythm. 

“Easy, easy,” Jungkook shushes with a grin, stopping you at the waist. “Why are you in such a hurry, hm? We have all night.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” he laughs, grabbing the shaky hands that are resting awkwardly on your thighs. “Let’s get your form right first. Lean on me.” With the command, your palms are placed flat on his broad, solid pecs. Already, the angle and leverage work with his curve deliciously. “And it’ll probably feel better for you, if you moved like this instead,” Jungkook grips your ass, rocking you into a grinding motion. Instead of up and down, your cunt drags back and forth on his throbbing shaft. 

He’s right. It feels so much better like this. The dreamy sensation has you moaning and moving like a pornstar. 

To be honest, this wasn’t even the type of video Jungkook clicked on when looking through his PornHub feed in the mornings. Absently scrolling past orgies and blowjobs like the daily newspaper. He preferred things fast. Pummeling every inch into you before pulling out swiftly, leaving only the very tip inside to keep you needy and begging. But fuck, the slow, sensual rolls of your hips were turning his brain to mush. And the way you’re dripping down his balls might make him demote missionary to his second favorite position. He’s hypnotized, staring up at your perky tits, rippling and bouncing freely above him. 

“Yeah, baby…” you cheer, carding your fingers through his thick, healthy hair as he sits up at the waist, latching onto your nipple. The gentle runs turn into harsh tugs when he takes the sensitive teat between his teeth. The overstimulation makes you hiss. 

“Taste so good,” he huffs, “I can’t keep my mouth off of you.” Slicking his wispy bangs away, Jungkook leans back, stealing a naughty peek at you fucking yourself on him. Using him just how he likes. He spreads his legs apart, praying it’ll help you sink down even further, if possible. “Yeah, take it all…”

“Love taking it all…” 

That hot, gooey ballooning is already forming in his balls. The pooling in his shaft is a warning; he’s going to bust soon. Jungkook maintains a strict ladies first policy, so he needs to think of something. Fast. A lightbulb switches on in his head when your neglected clit glides across his smooth pelvis. 

“Hold on.” With a hand on your lower back, Jungkook squeezes you against him, preventing you from toppling over as he leans to the side and fiddles around in his special drawer. You gulp when he takes out the infamous vibrator. 

“You look terrified,” he jokes, pointing out your fearful gaze and plump lips, currently forming a cute little ‘o’ as you observe the wand. 

“Hm, I wonder why?” You scoff at him in fiend ignorance. “Oh, it’s superrr strong, most girls don’t even last five minutes,” you mimic in your best Jeon Jungkook impression. Voice dropping an octave to match his deep, even tone. You think it’s pretty accurate, but his melodic giggles say otherwise.

“I mean, it is,”  he confirms, powering on the vibrator, “but there’s different settings, like, here’s the lowest.” The white crown is placed on your inner thigh, letting you get accustomed to the movement before he uses it to destroy you, and your most private areas. The low rumble travels up the muscle in your leg until it reaches your clit with a faint hum. “See? Not bad, right?”

Wrong. 

The lack of foreplay on your end, had you teetering on the edge. So when Jungkook presses the strong, creamy buzz to your swollen bud, you’re a goner. 

“Fuck!” You wail. “This is the lowest speed?”

“Tell me how it feels.”

“I- oh!” Evilly, Jungkook moves the toy down, nudging the rounded corner underneath your hood, directly stimulating your little bundle of nerves. “I… don’t know… can’t… think right now…”

“Have nothing to say now, huh smart girl?”

Oh, so this was your punishment. 

If you could even call it that. You’ve never felt so fucking good. 

The rapture coursing through your vein forces you to stop, clawing at Jungkook’s shoulders. He picks up where you left off, rutting into you with vigor, hitting all of your sweet spots perfectly. That, combined with the smooth plug in your ass and the vibrator on your clit, has you overwhelmed and out of control. 

“Fuck! Jungkook, I can’t- too much.”

You’re cumming before he even has the chance to object. Thighs quivering. Arms shaking. Eyes rolling back into oblivion. The darkness is disrupted by lightning bolts of white, hot pleasure. Your entire body tingles like you’ve just stuck your acrylic into an outlet. Jungkook guides you to the light as you brace the crashing tsunami of your orgasm. 

A literal tsunami.

“You squirted.”

“I did?”

“A little.” Unfortunately, he didn’t get the chance to witness it. Just relished in the warm splashes on his pelvis, his upper thighs, and his cock. You nuzzle into his shoulder, groaning disgruntledly in shame. Jungkook humors you by resting his cheek on top of your head, swaying subtly as he holds you. “Guess you’re not my Bambi anymore. Deer can’t swim.”

“They can swim,” you murmur. “You don’t shit about deer, Jungkook.”

“You’re more like a fish or something,” he coos happily, ignoring your correction. “...Ponyo.”

“You like Studio Ghibli movies?” You ask, picking up your heavy head and looking at him with big, animated eyes. “Since when?”

“Since before my balls dropped,” he responds curtly.

“I didn’t know that…” 

“I think there’s a lot about me you don’t know yet, baby.” 

There’s no malice in his words. They’re not a sneaky jab, or an attempt to make you feel guilty. They’re just the truth.

“Can I ask you something, Kook?”

“Of course, you can,” he hums, friskily nipping at the apple of your cheek. 

‘Do you like anime in general? Or just Studio Ghibli?’

‘If so, what’s your favorite? Oh my God, this is so exciting!’

‘Is that your dog in those pictures?’

“You’re crazy, and yes, that’s my dog,” he chuckles at your endless string of curiosity. “But how about I nut first?” As if on cue, his member twitches inside of you, reminding you that he’s still hard and waiting patiently for his release. “And then you can interview me. Sounds good?”

“Yes,” you say, cheeks scalding. “Sorry.”

“Stop saying sorry,” Jungkook repeats, pecking you lovingly. "I'm gonna lay you down now..." Strategically, he maneuvers you onto your side, plopping down behind you. You curl into his frame, back arching with the rise and fall of his panting chest, his beautifully sketched arm wrapped around your waist. The other rests on the bed, sticking straight out for you to use as a pillow. Your top leg is thrown over his hip, spreading you enough to run his length over your puffy cunt. Grabbing the Hitachi, he brings it back to your engorged clit. The touch makes you yelp. 

“Mm, I love how sensitive you get,” he whispers, licking a hot, needy stripe against your cheek. You peep out a confused noise, cowering under his tongue. Yuck. He’s so gross… but so sexy. “It’s not even turned on yet, baby. What would happen if I put it all the way up?”

“I think I’d fall in love with you…”

His heavy breaths stop as locks eyes with you. You can't distinguish the iris from the pupil. It all blends together like the night sky, filled with little stars of raw emotion. He’s pondering something, dewy lips parting and closing as the thought fades. 

Nothing is said, but you don't mind. Because when he enters you, rocking into you with languid, passionate thrusts, you feel it. The unspoken words surround you like the weather. They’re warm like a summer breeze.

“Mine, isn’t it?” He speaks against your lips, Hitachi set to the max, going full throttle on your nub. “Say it.”

“This pussy is yours,” you cry, crystal streams clouding your vision and streaming down towards his arm.

“Not that,” he chokes through gritted teeth, trying to postpone his orgasm. Waiting for you to say the magic words and open Pandora’s box. “You, baby. Tell me that you’re mine.”

“I’m yours.”

“Yeah,” he nods, lips curling in as he bathes in your dripping cunt. His strokes become short and uneven as he reaches the point of no return. “I’m yours, too.”

The declaration of reciprocal affection and want fills your chest before shooting to your core. You cum together, sighing into each other's mouths as pure, intense bliss takes over every square inch of your body. Every cell tingles. You try to kiss, but the seal of your lips is broken by your needy cries. During the mutual orgasm, Jungkook trembles. Chest, legs, and arms all quivering in unison as he milks both of you dry. Painting your walls with warm, white spurts until he has nothing left to give. The Hitachi isn’t turned off until you beg. 

Euphoria. 

When you’re done, neither of you can bring yourself to disconnect. Sex left your sweaty bodies idle and fucked out, but the intimacy of it all kept you rooted in place. Airy kisses are planted on your shoulder. Light scratches outline his tattoos. His seed is hot inside you in the most disgustingly comfortable way. You don’t move for a while, laying in each other's aura until the rain clouds fade and the milky way can be seen by the naked eye. Twinkling lights of stars and headlights flicker against his skin as you count his breaths. They grow more steady as the minutes pass. 

“I have a plan.”

Intrigued, you crane your neck, quirking a brow at the man behind you. “A plan?

Without warning, Jungkook expertly gets to his knees. Your ankles are hauled up by your head, manicured toes tickling his cotton pillowcase. Folded in half at the waist.

“Jungkook!”

“Bambi,” he huffs above you, softening cock still tucked inside of you. “Hold your legs for me.”

Oh. You know what he wants.

“Baby,” you giggle flirtatiously, hands curling under your thighs to keep them in place, “what are you doing?” He must want another round. Excitement bubbles in your squished chest and cramped stomach at the thought of having him twice in one night. 

“If you stay like this, I should be able to run to the bathroom without getting cum on my bed.”

“Are you kidding me?” You spew in disbelief and disappointment.

“Baby, please,” he groans with pleading eyes. “It’ll take two seconds, I promise.” 

“Fine,” you oblige with an overexaggerated pout, “but hurry. This hurts!”

With your permission, he scurries off into the bathroom. A light turns on and the faucet runs. He must be getting something to clean up with. Despite your best efforts, and the ache in your bent neck, his baby juice leaks out of you, cascading down your butt with impeccable speed.

“Jungkook, It’s dripping!” 

The door slams against the wall with a loud thud as he bursts through, wet cloth in hand. A second too late. “No!” He sighs in annoyance, dropping to his knees on the mattress, angrily watching a fat white droplet splash onto his black comforter. “Really?”

“What was I supposed to do?” You shout back playfully. The whole situation was dumb and immature, but you can’t stop laughing. You cackle like a madwoman when he runs the damp towel through your folds. “‘M ticklish,” you respond dazily when he raises a brow at you. The giggles turn into a sharp hiss when he slowly removes the plug from your swollen hole.

“Does it hurt?” Jungkook coos, spreading your cheeks to get a better view of the slightly red, inflamed area. 

“A little, but I’m okay. I promise.” 

“Good,” he hums, smacking your ass, hinting that he wants you off the bed. “Go pee while I change the sheets.”

There’s a change in your appearance when you look in his bathroom mirror. The girl reflected, wearing her boyfriend’s black, pine-scented, oversized hoodie, seems… happy. She is happy. The resting bitch face that Mina often teased you for is completely gone. All you see is glowy skin, bright eyes, and puffy cheeks. A tiny hand comes up to massage them. Ow. They hurt from smiling so much. From laughing like a maniac. You’ve never seen yourself so lively. You’ve never felt so alive. 

With a content sigh, you skip back into the bedroom. 

Jungkook is already settled, snuggled under the clean bedding like a big baby. The sound of the door opening makes him jump, waking up from the two minute nap he accidentally fell into. Turning to you, he smiles lazily.

You’ll never get used to that face of his. That beautiful face.

“I’m knocked, Bambi,” he yawns, opening his big arms. “C’mere.”

Heart heavy with warmth, you climb between the sheets. You lay on your back, preparing for him to sink his head into your full breasts like feathered pillows. His favorite cuddle position. 

“We never ate the pancakes,” you frown, noticing the plastic bags on his nightstand when you reach over, shutting his lamp off.

“‘S okay. We’ll eat ‘em in the morning.”

“Ew, Jungkook,” you scoff revoltingly. “They’ll be rotten by then.”

“You’re rotten but I still eat you.”

Hm. Touche. 

“You know,” he lulls, lips smacking together. It’s a habit that only comes about when sleep clouds his mind. “I’ve had a crush on you since the day we met.”

“Liar,” you whisper with a smile, twirling the loose strands at the nape of his neck. Just the way he likes. “You called me a bitch, the day we met.”

“You’re so dramatic. I did not call you a bitch.” The way his tired, hooded eyes blare open at your false statement makes you laugh. “I said you were bitchy. There’s a difference.”

You recount the memory.

“You know what, I like you. You’re a little bitchy but-,” he slurred at the end of the night, helping you gather the discarded solo cups, "Also innocent. Kinda like a baby deer. What the fuck was that movie?”

“But underneath that attitude… I don’t know- There was just… something about you. Something special. And I knew that I could bring that side out of you, eventually."

“Bambi! Right… I can’t wait to ruin you.” 

God, why are you so emotional today? 

Tears pile into your waterline. They’re not from sadness or anger. 

Laying in bed with Jungkook, who’s sighing peacefully as he drifts off to sleep, you can’t believe that this is your life. 

After a few minutes of silence, you realize that there’s no way you’re following him into dreamland. You’re way too wired and ecstatic. Who could blame you?

“Jungkook,” you whisper.

No answer.

“Jungkook.”

A grunt of acknowledgment. 

“Are you awake?”

“No…”

“But you just responded, though...”

Silence.

“Can we watch Sailor Moon?”

Crickets.

"Jungkook?"

“Baby!” He whines, high-pitched and huffy as he turns his head in frustration. “‘M sleepin’!’”

“Jeez,” you roll your eyes, still sluggishly playing with his dark ropes. “Someone’s grumpy…” 

There’s another beat of silence before he speaks.

“Fine,” he groans dramatically, twisting back to his original position with a smushed frown against your boob. “I’ll watch one episode. One.” 

You squeak excitedly, pecking the top of his head in appreciation, pulling out your phone and turning on your favorite series with glee. He puts up a good fight; loopily murmuring ‘wow’ and ‘no way’ whenever you share a little fun fact about the character lore. Halfway through, the sound of Usagi and Rei arguing is overtaken by Jungkook’s soft snores. 

Soft for now. You know once he hits the REM phase, he’ll turn into a lawnmower. 

With a defeated sigh, you close the streaming app and put your phone away, cuddling closer to your boyfriend. 

Your boyfriend. 

You're dying to finish the season. At this rate, it's going to take you guys forever to watch Sailor Moon in its entirety. But that’s okay, you suppose, because forever with Jungkook doesn’t sound that bad at all. 

it's requited love yall :')

© chryblossomjjk 2022 [do not copy, translate or repost]