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moonlinos · 4 months

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Call my bluff, call you ‘babe’

♡ Pairing: Lee Minho × fem!reader

♡ Genre: Childhood friends to lovers, fluff

♡ CW: Implied smut, alcohol consumption. Twenty solid seconds of angst, but it doesn’t even really count. It’s just tooth-rotting fluff.

♡ Word count: 5.5k

♡ Synopsis: Minho has been your best friend since you two could barely form coherent sentences. He was there when your last baby tooth fell, he was there when you failed your high school exams, and he was there as you walked down the aisle.

♡ A/N: This was going to be just word-vomit fluff to make me cry, but I couldn’t control myself and before I knew it there were… so many words.

You were four years old when you met Minho. It was the first day of kindergarten, and you were assigned seats together. The entire day was spent with you chatting to every kid you could reach from your seat while Minho quietly sat painting and doodling by your side. You vaguely remember thinking he was odd and whining to your mom about how your seatmate was boring, and that was why he was the only kid in class you didn’t talk to. She smiled and told you maybe you should make an effort to talk to him. That same day, you racked your little brain for a reason why your seatmate might be so quiet and promptly decided that he was too shy to start a conversation himself. You then asked your mom if the fact that you didn’t talk to him might have made him sad, to which she hesitated, and that was enough to have your bottom lip wobbling.

You remember tears streaming down your cheeks as you frantically sobbed, inconsolable at the fact that your seatmate was sad and that it was partially because of you.

The next day, you asked if Minho would like to use your special glitter pens — you even told him you wouldn’t mind if he used your favorite colors. That was really all that was needed to plant the bud of friendship between you two.

Ever since that day, you two slowly became inseparable.

You attended the same elementary school after begging your parents, writing a very concise list of reasons why you two could not possibly be separated. Reasons such as the fact that Minho still didn’t know how to tie his shoelaces, so it would be dangerous for him to be alone in a new school. Or the fact that you were always losing your gloves, and Minho always carried an extra pair in his backpack just for you, so you would surely catch a cold if you didn’t have him beside you during winter.

All extremely valid reasons.

Minho began walking you home from school when you were both nine years old. He was often left alone due to his parents’ work schedules, which made him become the most street-smart kid in your class. You had to beg your mom for a week, but she ultimately caved in.

Your favorite thing to do on your way home was to stop randomly and doodle on the sidewalk with chalk, with Minho joining you in no time. You even had your favorite little sketching spot — right in front of a nice old lady’s flower shop, where you two would spend far too much time decorating her entrance pavement with flowers, rainbows, and smiley faces. She would later introduce herself to you, Ms. Kim, and would always thank you both with a flower of your choice. You always picked tulips, and Minho always picked daisies.

On one hazy winter day, you and Minho were eager to adorn the flower shop’s entrance with a new set of doodles since the ones you had done just yesterday got covered in snow. As you two did your best to dig through the piled-up snow with your gloved hands, you suddenly felt something hard slide down your throat. Your hands stilled, and you turned to look at Minho with wide eyes.

“What happened?” He asked. “Did you lose your glove in the snow this time?”

You shook your head frantically, careful not to swallow. “Teeth,” you simply said.

Minho looked at you like you were crazy, squinting his eyes as he studied your face. “What?”

You felt tears well up, and he immediately abandoned his mission of shuffling through the snow before pulling you into a big hug.

“Why are you crying? Don’t cry. I hate when you cry, I feel weird when you cry,” He said, but no tears left his worried eyes. Minho never cried, that was something you had learned a while back.

You, however, cried until Ms. Kim noticed you two from the window, cooing as she approached you two with a gentle smile. You tried your best to explain your predicament. Minho sat with you behind the wooden counter, holding your hand in his, the smell of flowers making everything feel less catastrophic than it did ten minutes earlier.

Ms. Kim explained that you had no reason to cry, as it was normal for kids to swallow their baby teeth. And you remember harshly shaking your head and explaining with a trembling voice that you hadn’t cried because of that. You had cried because that was your last baby tooth, which meant you were officially a grown-up. You didn’t want to be a grown-up. Minho wasn’t a grown-up yet, with his last baby tooth still holding on proudly in his gums. You didn’t want to be a grown-up all alone; it would be terrible and sad.

That afternoon, you two went home together in silence, your respective flowers clutched in your hands. Minho was never good with words. Sadness engulfed him because he couldn’t do enough to make his best friend smile again. What was the point of a best friend if they didn’t make you laugh when you were crying?

Minho walked into school the next day with a proud smile on his face before placing his last baby tooth on your desk. You eyed it curiously, brows furrowed.

“There, I took it off last night,” He simply said. “Now we’re gonna be grown-ups together.”

At eleven years old, your daily after-school video game appointments began.

You had just cut your hair short; a bob you thought looked cute on your favorite singer turned out to be cataclysmically unflattering on you. And, at eleven years old, it was earth-shattering and definitely the end of your life (despite what your mother told you).

You spent every second out in public with your hair hidden by a beanie, hoping it would distract people from your disastrous haircut.

Except it had the opposite effect.

One particular day at school, a boy came up to you simply to inform you that your head looked like a mushroom before running away, laughing with his friends. They were foolish words spoken by a foolish boy, but you were eleven. Once again, earth-shattering and the end of your life.

You avoided everyone the entire day — including Minho, whom you always talked to no matter your mood. You knew you wouldn’t be able to avoid him for much longer, seeing as he walked you home every day, so you simply prayed he wouldn’t notice your puffy eyes or that he at least hadn’t heard any of the other kids making unfunny jokes about your haircut.

After school, Minho sighed in feigned annoyance when you told him you had lost your gloves again before retrieving a pair from his backpack. Like a habit, you asked if he wanted to hang out at your house, although the answer was always unchanging.

“My mom’s baking a cake,” you told him. “We can play video games and then eat it together.”

Minho hummed in agreement, adjusting his backpack before grabbing your hand as you two began your daily walk to your house. It was something you always did, never walking anywhere without your hands clasped together. These past few months, however, this once ordinary gesture had begun making your heart beat faster. You didn’t understand why, and you would rather not think about it because every time you did, the words from your other friends would echo inside your head. Their stories about how they felt their hearts racing when their crush had hugged them or even looked their way, making you question if maybe…

But it couldn’t be. Minho was your best friend. How could he be your crush?

It was another one of those afternoons, your mom busily making you two sandwiches as you and Minho played New Super Mario Bros on your Wii under the blanket fort you always meticulously built. Minho had been acting weird all day — even weirder than you, who had to endure all the asinine jokes and hurtful words from your peers. As you completed the last level for the umpteenth time, saving Princess Peach, Minho all but threw his controller to the side. You turned to shoot him a questioning look, which went ignored as he rummaged through his backpack.

He retrieved a crumpled-up piece of paper, which he promptly gave to you.

You cocked your head, awaiting some sort of explanation, but Minho simply picked up his controller once more and hit play on the game.

Unfolding the paper, words greeted you in Minho’s messy handwriting.

YOUR HAIR LOOKS CUTE. STOP HIDING IT.

Your lips parted slightly, but before you could say anything to him, Minho reached out and snatched your beanie from your head. Your short hair and bangs cascaded onto your face, partially obscuring your view. But you could still make out his side profile, where a faint smile appeared on his lips.

After that, you two were silent for the rest of the day, eventually dozing off under the tent lulled by the sound of your mother’s hand mixer and Mario’s theme song. The sun eventually set outside the window, and you woke up to two plates of your mother’s cake waiting for you on the coffee table.

From that point on, your beanie was left forgotten inside your drawer.

You were fifteen when you realized that perhaps your feelings for Minho weren’t all that platonic after all.

It all started with a letter on Minho’s desk on a rainy Friday. October 25th, Minho’s birthday.

Minho’s quiet nature hadn’t changed one bit since you first sat beside him at four years old. He would rather die than start a conversation, rarely went out to the movies with your friend group and, most importantly, hated being the center of attention. That was why he told no one about his birthday since you two began high school this year. It was the subject of much debate among your little group of friends, with some bribing Minho with his favorite snacks or promising to do his assignments until college just for some sort of clue; a day, month, even the day of the week he was born.

But Minho never budged.

So, seeing a letter on his desk on the day of his birthday was odd, to say the least.

You arrived back to the classroom late after chatting to your friend from another class in the hallway, catching as Minho sat down with a puzzled look on his face and an open letter in his hands.

“What’s up?” You asked, sitting on the desk in front of him.

He looked up, thick glasses crooked from a dodgeball incident earlier that week. “Yumi found out it’s my birthday today,” He informed you, a bit too nonchalantly. “She organized a birthday party at her house tomorrow with our friends.”

You immediately took the letter, reading it and blanching at the words written in the girl’s pretty handwriting. She had found out Minho’s birthday by snooping around Facebook until she found his mother, who had a plethora of pictures of Minho on his previous birthdays. Not only that, the letter ended with a paragraph where she confessed her feelings to him — with all the clichés and dramatics only an adolescent crush could provide.

You still remember your first thoughts upon learning that information: Oh, Yumi. Of course a girl like her would do something like this.

You cringe at your words now, but at fifteen, you deemed no girl worthy of your best friend. Especially ‘girls like Yumi,’ who in your eyes all but threw herself at him. At the time, you thought you were looking out for the boy who was practically your brother. Now, you understand you were simply an insecure fifteen-year-old who allowed ugly, misogynistic thoughts to brew inside your mind out of fear of losing Minho. For your immature brain, every girl interested in Minho was an enemy because they could easily take him away from you.

And Minho had never reciprocated any girl’s feelings, always politely turning down the few confessions he had gotten during middle school. You were ready to berate Yumi, your brows immediately furrowing as your face contorted, but Minho beat you to it, speaking before you could utter a word.

“I know I should be mad, but isn’t it a little… cute?”

You couldn’t help but scoff, the sound escaping your lips like a burst of disbelief. You also couldn’t help how your hands began to tremble as your heart shot up to your throat.

“Cute?” You asked with the strongest voice you could muster. “You think her invading your privacy is cute?”

And Minho simply shrugged, tapping his fingers on his desk. “A little bit. I know you don’t really like her, but she’s part of our friend group,” He said, taking the letter from your shaky hands. “Plus, she’s always been nice to me, and she is cute.”

That was all you could physically bear to hear, excusing yourself from the conversation with the lie that your friend had called you from the classroom window before sprinting out into the hallway. As you continued walking, your palms grew clammy and your heart weighed heavily in your chest.

You felt tears well up in your eyes once you reached the stairs. Sitting on the steps, you cried into the cardigan of your ugly school uniform. You didn’t care that you would be scolded for skipping class; all you cared about was that your best friend was going to be taken from you.

After school, as you and Minho were about to exit the school gates — your hands tightly clasped together as they always were — Yumi appeared carrying a cake, the rest of your friends behind her as they all sang happy birthday.

Minho blew out the candles and made a wish. Everyone cheered as his best friend, Chan, shoved his face into the cake. Minho yelled at him, grumbling with glasses covered in white frosting, but ultimately laughing along. Yumi was quick to clean his face with a napkin, earning her a smile from Minho before he released your hand to gently squeeze her rosy cheeks.

You remained quiet, forcing out a smile and looking up at the sky every now and then so your tears wouldn’t fall.

All because Minho had let go of your hand.

Minho’s fifteenth birthday — that was the day you learned you could fool everyone else, but never yourself.

Your seventeenth summer was a drag.

Minho had just been broken up with a couple of months before, Yumi crying as she explained her parents wanted her to focus on her studies, and having a boyfriend was simply a distraction she couldn’t afford if she wanted to be a doctor someday. An unwilling participant in the entire situation, you sat awkwardly at the bus stop as she spoke.

You were ready to witness Minho cry for the first time in your life, maybe yell about how unfair her parents were being, but he simply pressed a kiss to her forehead just as your bus arrived.

Not much had changed when he began dating Yumi, with you learning that suppressing how you truly felt was worryingly easy. You still hung out with them, battling through their cuddles and kisses like a soldier on the front lines of a war. Never unscathed, but always strong. Nobody needed to know about how you cried into your mother’s arms almost every night before falling asleep.

The only change had been you and Minho’s daily gaming appointments. You two had since outgrown your video game phase, both now interested in diverging things that made it impossible for you to enjoy them together. You discovered your love for flowers went beyond doodling on the sidewalk in front of a flower shop, but Minho complained that growing flowers was too time-consuming, and he loved dancing, which you were far too uncoordinated and lazy to even try doing.

And so, you two settled for simply hanging out together at your house. Your room had easy access to the roof, which you two took full advantage of, setting up a permanent blanket fort where you would snuggle up with pillows and talk for hours after school.

That summer was no different, with Minho stretched out across the old mattress, watching the light pink sky slowly fade away as night set in while you two busied yourselves talking.

That was the day you finally gathered the courage to ask Minho about his breakup, desperate to understand why he had appeared so unfazed. After the one-year milestone of their relationship in February, you had begun to make peace with the fact that she would probably be around for a while.

Minho shrugged at your question, hands resting on his stomach while he gnawed on his bottom lip. He explained he was sure that he liked her, but it turned out he valued her as a friend much more than as a girlfriend.

You couldn’t help but scoff at the answer. You knew Minho better than you knew yourself at times, which was why you knew he was lying through his teeth.

“Why did you stay so long with her, then?” You questioned, the resentful lilt in your voice a bit too obvious. You cleared your throat before adding, “I mean, you surely didn’t act as just friends.”

“I guess I felt lonely before,” He explained. “I was selfish for staying with her, but I enjoyed having someone. Was especially nice after…” Minho trailed off, dismissively shaking his head, and you remember being close to throwing him off that roof as he kept being so damn enigmatic.

“After what?” You prodded, “Minho, I’m your best friend. What’s the point of us talking if you’re not gonna tell me the truth?”

He turned his head to look up at you, the darkening sky making his eyes gleam as if they held an entire galaxy of stars. You felt that familiar nervousness return.

“It was nice to not be so alone after so many years of pining after someone.”

You cocked your head to the side, and Minho had the gall to chuckle at your puzzled expression. You shook your head, mumbling to yourself that your conversation was pointless if he wouldn’t tell you the whole truth.

Lying next to him on the mattress with a sigh, you could feel the weight of Minho’s gaze on you. You couldn’t bring yourself to move.

You remember the moon was already high in the sky by the time one of you finally moved — Minho, who slowly inched his hand closer to yours before clasping it tightly in his. Despite your racing heart, you thought nothing of it. He was now single, so it wouldn’t be ludicrous to assume a habit you two had cultivated for many years would naturally return.

However, after some beats from your erratically racing heart, Minho’s fingers intertwined with yours. You had never done that before, always holding hands in a way that all but screamed platonic.

That night, with his thumb caressing your skin and his hand squeezing yours, Minho finally spoke the truth after so long.

“It’s you,” He said, tone nonchalant but voice audibly shaky. “Think I’ve been pining after you since I was nine and ripped my tooth out ‘cause I thought that’d make you stop being sad.”

You remember gasping quietly and his hand tightening around yours as the clock ticked and your silence remained. You remember finally mustering up the courage to turn to look at him and being met by an expression you had rarely seen on Minho’s face in the thirteen years you had known him — he was scared, wide eyes dancing around your face as if he looked for an answer in your features, his chapped lips parted slightly as if he was ready to backtrack the moment he saw any hint of doubt in your eyes.

You remember smiling at him and how his expression shifted into pure confusion. All it took was for him to finally have the nerve to hold your hand in the way he’d always wanted to, and for you to use his courage as a catalyst for your own. You remember how you closed the distance between you two and pressed your lips to his. You remember it feeling weird because you were kissing Minho, your best friend.

But you also remember it feeling right because you were kissing Minho, your best friend.

Your transition from being best friends to being in a relationship was easier than you had ever thought it would be — it was also slower than you could have ever imagined.

Minho never asked you out or confessed his feelings beyond what was said on the roof, and neither did you. It was a shared knowledge between you, a silent agreement that didn’t need words — at least for now. The little gestures and subtle changes left no doubt in your minds that you two were, in fact, no longer just friends — like how you began to always intertwine your fingers while holding hands, or how Minho would pull you onto his lap when you hung out with your friends, or how you would rest your head on his shoulder as he played with your hair during lunch break.

Your friends certainly had questions, the confusion written all over their faces easy to read like a book, but you both knew they also understood your relationship without you needing to make a big deal out of it.

You picked him up from dance class every weekend, sometimes arriving earlier just to catch a glimpse of him through the glass door, as Minho insisted he was too embarrassed to dance in front of you.

One day, thoroughly unprompted, he reached into his backpack as you two exited his dance academy and pulled out a yellow tulip. You had furrowed your brows at the sudden gesture, and Minho nonchalantly told you that planting your favorite flower was surprisingly easy. Since becoming teenagers, you had stopped going to Ms. Kim’s flower shop, and you had long forgotten about how you two used to have your own respective flowers back in the day.

It seemed Minho hadn’t forgotten.

That was one thing you had come to know about him only after you began dating. Although he seemed cold and distant on the outside — rarely communicating his feelings through words — Minho secretly kept a mental note of every little detail about the people he cared about, and he unfailingly found a way to communicate his feelings through actions. Such as promptly handing you a brand-new flower he had picked before you even had the chance to mourn your tulip as it began to wilt.

You, on the other hand, had always been the type of person to communicate through words; spoken, written, or read, which is how you began saving your best daisies from the small garden you created in your backyard and practicing your flower arrangement skills exclusively by making pretty bouquets you could gift to Minho (always with little notes hidden among the flowers).

Your once explicitly platonic roof dates also left no room for doubt, as making out under your usual tent became a hard-to-break habit. In fact, that was how your family found out about your relationship. You were eighteen, with graduation just around the corner, when your mother caught Minho kissing you as tears welled up in your eyes at the thought of having to be apart from him during college (although you both knew that would never be the case, as you always moved mountains simply to stay together).

Everything was slow-paced, and neither of you had any desire to rush anything. Once, Minho told you he had waited eight years to finally kiss you, and somehow, that anticipation was what had made it all the more special.

And so, your first proper date only happened six months after your first kiss, and your first fight only happened a year and a half into your relationship. Not to mention your first I love you, which had been a slip-up that happened only in your first year of college after a drunken night with Chan and Minho. Your head on his lap, your tulip nestled among his daisies in a pretty vase on the coffee table as Chan hummed along to some song that came from his phone. You felt as if your entire being was filled with pure gratitude at that moment, and the liquid courage that flowed through your veins only helped you mutter out how much you loved Minho.

He looked down at you, hands cupping your cheeks with a silly smile adorning his face, and simply answered, “Well, I love you more.”

Your carefree attitude toward your relationship was almost a contrast to the one you had with your friendship. You and Minho had met so young that you could never truly pinpoint when you had become such close friends. You always wondered if that was what led you two to be so easygoing with what most people rush into. Things happened when they were supposed to happen.

You remember one of Minho’s new friends, Changbin, asking something about your sex life at some party during freshman year, and you two nonchalantly answering that you didn’t really have one. Your friends’ shock was understandable, but you and Minho only laughed.

Things happened when they were supposed to happen.

It was Minho’s 21st birthday, when your flowers were no longer in bloom, but your love remained blossoming like it was mid-spring. He had, as always, vetoed any and every plan of a celebration suggested by your friends. He opted to stay in with you, cuddling under a blanket fort like you had been doing for so many years. Chan graciously offered to sleep at a friend’s dorm, leaving your small shared apartment just for you and Minho.

He hadn’t planned for anything to happen, and neither had you. You were simply lying together, watching the flickering of the candles you had set up around the coffee table, recounting the innumerable memories you shared when you suddenly felt the earnest, all-consuming need to have Minho as close as possible.

It was clumsy, both of you inexperienced and nervous. Your teeth crashed together and your hands gripped each other tightly, the realization of the intensity of your yearning becoming undeniable. At some point, the entire tent collapsed on top of you, and laughter filled the room for a brief moment before being replaced by your sighs and whispered moans.

It wasn’t perfect, but it was you and Minho.

Graduation day was a blur in your mind.

It had all started with Minho and Chan drunk at eleven a.m., offering you the awful-tasting omelet they had cooked in your cramped kitchen. They then went on to zone out for most of the ceremony after stumbling out of your apartment.

You approached Minho after he was done taking pictures and getting scolded by his family for being drunk on his graduation day, his mother giving you an apologetic look as you whisked him away.

“You’re stressed,” you pointed out.

“Yeah.”

“Me too,” you replied with a sigh, resting against a large tree far enough away from the hustle and bustle of recently graduated students and crying families. “So is Chan. Don’t think I’ve seen him this drunk since Jisung’s birthday party last year.”

Minho chuckled, shifting on his feet and toying with the fabric of his gown. You furrowed your brows; he only ever got fidgety when hiding something. You learned that for the first time when you were thirteen and he had to wait until your birthday to tell you he’d gotten you two tickets to see your favorite band, and again when he had to keep Chan’s then-girlfriend’s plans of asking him to move in together a secret.

“You’re not nervous ‘cause of graduation, are you?”

You remember the way he stilled almost immediately.

“We always tell each other the truth, right?” He asked.

You remember the way your whole world spun as he pulled out a small box from his pocket and how everything seemed to fade into a white mist that surrounded Minho like a spotlight as he proposed to you.

Your wedding was small — both because that was how you had wanted it to be and because of your lack of money for a proper party.

After graduating, Minho became a dance teacher at the academy he attended as a teen, teaching little kids who he said always reminded him of you two. You used the money your parents had saved for you to travel after college to buy the old flower shop that held so many memories from your childhood. Neither of you used your degrees, and neither of you made a lot of money, but you were overflowing with an infatuation for life and a love for each other so great that it made up for any silly inconvenience that dared to come up.

The ceremony was held at a local church — although neither of you was particularly religious, that was the cheapest place available. You opted to walk down the aisle together; hands clasped the way you used to do for many years while walking home from school. Minho held onto a daisy bouquet you made, while you held the single tulip he had picked out for you that day.

“I’m not good with words,” was how Minho began his vows, the glow of the fairy lights and candles adorning the church rendering his attempt at hiding his tears futile. That was the first time you had ever seen him cry in the twenty-one years you’d known him. “But I think that never mattered with you. You know me better than I know myself. Most times, I don’t even have to say a word, and you’ll still understand me. It’s been this way since we were four, and you understood why I was so quiet, and you still chose to be my friend. Thank you for understanding me, and thank you for allowing me to love you. Loving you is what I do best and look how lucky I am; I’ve been able to do it for my whole life.” He then shot you a grin, the back of his hand wiping away your tears. He ended his speech with a line that was so very Minho, thought up with sincerity but spoken primarily to make you smile. “You’ve always felt like home, and I can’t wait to feel that way until we’re both food for the worms to eat.”

You had never cried so much as you did on the day of your wedding — which was remarkable, seeing as you’d been a crier your whole life. You remember the irony of it all; Minho, who had never been good with words, telling you about his love with words that came from his heart and spilled from his lips without any rehearsal, while you were rendered speechless and too emotional to even attempt to form a coherent sentence.

Your wedding vow was a simple, choked-up, “Thank you for being my best friend, Minho.”

Minho carried you home from the church, with your cheeks flushing pink and his smile beaming as your friends made rice cascade around the two of you like snow. It turned out the boy who hated attention didn’t mind the spotlight so long as it meant showing off his love for you.

Your honeymoon was spent in your small house above your flower shop — which you named Daisy’s Tulips — where you cuddled under a blanket fort the entire day, only leaving the comfort of the pillows and fluffy covers well after midnight to adorn the sidewalk in front of your house in a brand new chalk drawing.

“Can you imagine if we never said anything?” Minho suddenly wondered aloud, his chuckle echoing through the quiet street. “We were both pretty good at hiding our feelings for so long.”

And you simply shook your head, painting a daisy with white chalk on the sidewalk. “Minho, I know you. You wouldn’t have let me keep pretending after finding out I liked you too.”

“Who says I would have found out?”

“You said it yourself,” you explained, “I know you better than you know yourself, and that’s reciprocal. You would’ve found out ‘cause I can never hide anything from you.”

And Minho smiled, taking your hand in his just as you were done with your drawing. Your gaze shifted toward him, and you admired the man he had become. From the shy little boy who sat beside you to the quiet teenager with thick glasses to the man he had grown into; you loved every version of Minho you had the privilege to meet throughout your life, and you were certain you would love every new version of him you came to know in the future as well.

“Of course you can’t,” he stated matter-of-factly. “I’m your best friend, aren’t I?” He asked with a grin, and you nodded. He then added, “Thank you for being my best friend.”

♡ taglist: @bloom-ings, @linocz, @farahia, @mirbokk, @jisunglyricist

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relocatedheads · 1 year

Note

would you write eddie munson x fem!reader smut?

where eddie’s chilling in his girls‘s room, bored because she’s taking a shower. he’s kinda snoopin’ around & finds a pastel pink book. he’s curious & starts reading it, realizing it’s her diary. he skips to the last page, dated just a few days ago. his eyes widen, not believing what he’s reading about his innocent girl.

sure they had sex. and not that vanilla, too. but he would’ve never thought his girl had thoughts like that. on this very page, his girl wrote her hidden fantasies. things she never even thought of telling eddie, too embarrassed. she’s talking about how she wants to call eddie „daddy“, or be choked, be humiliated to the brim, be filled by his cum till he’s dry, want him to be in complete control. she wants to be fully submitted to him.

before he can put the diary away she comes out of the bathroom, catching him. he confronts her & she tells him how embarrassed she is etc. they talk it out & he reversals that some of the stuff she likes he likes too. then they make out & they try out some of the stuff.

Oh my god you're an evil genius, time I put my 4 years of journaling to good use! - also ive been working on this all week and the 'h' key on my keyboard keeps getting stuck and its making typing no longer fun :/

Written Fantasies

Summary: ^^ the ask Pairing: Eddie x Reader Trigger Warnings: Smut / Embarrassment / hands on throats - no chocking Content Warnings: Diary Reading / blow jobs / impoliteness / shoe frontage / demands / deep throating / reader masturbation

MY EDDIE MASTERLIST BABY!!!!!!!

The space was as recognisable as the back of his hand, and as comforting as his denim vest: lightly coloured walls, cabinets around the room, shelves and counter tops filled trinkets and lifes memorabilia: photos of events, pretty candles, books, small trinkets of days out, wrist bands and broken watches that simply just meant too much.

Things changed every time he entered this space: photos changed frames, boxes gained new records, the cassette piles grew, and the books changed order.

Eddie clocked - while laying on your bed waiting for you to come back from your shower - that not only had the books changed but new ones were added. when he sat up to take a better look: there were 4 books, all identical sat up together leaning on a pile of published books.

The 4 were pink, all the same size, some slightly thicker, one especially thinner. All with individual dates written into their spines: 1983, 1984,1985, 1986. He weren't no idiot, his brain sorted that they were diaries.

He felt a twinge of pride for you to have the left out on display - almost like trophies, proud of your past. He knew a lot about you but you'd seemed to have never told him you wrote a diary. Eddie knew it was standard procedure you don't read people diary: just as you don't snoop in artists sketch books or dungeon masters binders. But who would he be kidding if he said he didn't wanna read it.

He thought a moment, concentrating and recognising the shower was still running. He didn't have to think too much, the boy was running on curiosity alone. Sat up on the edge of your bed, he leant over and pulled 1986 into his hands.

It started with him just flicking the pages: most of it empty; a few loose sheets tucked into the back; a pen clipped to the elastic closer. The filled side of the book was set out meticulously: a yearly planner already almost filled with exams, cheer practice, birthdays, appointments, dates with Eddie, every Tuesday marked with Hideout at 7, every odd Friday marked Hellfire!.

There was this warmness in his heart, knowing his life was just as important to you as it was for him. He believed every I love you, but know he understood every I love you.

He flicked through the book more: budget planners, goal pages, period trackers, and the body. Filled with your typical too-curly-to-read handwriting, every page filled line for line. Some sitting half empty signifying the end of an entry.

Eddie couldn't possibly understand what you had to write about for long that you wouldn't just tell him or your friends.

He found the dog eared page, the scruffily written date marking yesterday. Eddie smiled to himself, feeling a little giddy. He knew he shouldn't but he really couldn't stop himself.

As he read down the page: a recall of your date to the record store and diner, small notes of your gushing over Eddie's chivalry (he always thought holding doors open and little pet names were usual things), a detailed explanation of his outfit and how you loved it (he read that a few times, remember to wear his little thigh harness around you more often.). And as he continued to read, the writting felt less confident, as though there as a topic waited to be hinted at.

He skipped over to the next page and down it, finding a few words grabbing his eyes: touch myself, embarrassing, chocked, him, daddy.

His eyebrows rested in his hairline, eyes almost leaving his skull, the warmth on his checks wasn't imagined. He jumped back a few lines:

Jesus I feel 14 again. I dont know why he does this to me. I see him everyday, and yet im still pinning over him like he's some untouchable deity.

He reads down

We have sex so much but like every night I end up touching myself thinking about- its so embarrassing! I feel like ive been poisoned!! literally none of my friends are like this about their boyfriends!

yeah we all talk about sex but they all have usual sex and normal fantasies but like I feel like a deviant. if I ever told anyone what I really want they'd all look at me so weird

but if I think about sex with him about him all I can think of is his hands and his lips and his voice! and if Im actually honest with myself, all I want is him. I cant stop. ive got into this habit of thinking about him before I go to bed and like every night I touch myself to him.

literally seem like I cant just have him- and I so can but I want so much more!

like if I really thought about it: I'd love him to just use me, do whatever. He could fuck me, make me fuck him, cum in me, chock me, spit on me and I'd be so fucking happy!

Or like, my brain keeps thinking to what if we're fucking and someone hears or we're almost gonna get caught and it turns me on so much! I feel like a pervert.

Eddie felt himself hold his breath.. he was no prude, under his bed was riddled with lost porn mags, he know a lot about kinks and fetishes but something about hearing from you - sweet, quite, calm you- shit! He was getting all flustered.

And like also! keep calling him Daddy in my mind too - I dont know where thats come from but it feels so right! I just really want him to just have his way with me. I dont know how on earth I tell him this. this is so embarrassing.

Eddie was transfixed by your confessions: the sound of the water had slipped his ears. Let alone, he hadn't heard the floor creak and wind chance as you entered the room.

"Jesus babe! You scared me- can't make a guy jump like that!" He yelped, the towel hitting the bed making him jump back into real time.

You laughed at him at first... until your eyes danced around him... and what he had in his hand. You didnt need to ask to know. And almost instantly you felt your body tense, mind go blank and cheek redden. Hands sat in on each other, lips rolled in, eye popping out almost. "Um-"

Confident as ever, he laid back into your pillows, straightening out his legs, "Didn't know you thought like this, Sweetheart.." He started reading, "Kinda want him to fill me until hes dry-"

You leapt onto him - to be honest the word doesn't cut it. You practically jumped on him, trying to grab the book from him but he was swift... dodging your hands artfully as he continued reading. His light and teasing voice was harmonised by your loud commands for him to stop. The room had laughter too: Yours was embarrassment and his was humour.

After a particularly wobbly Eddie! he put the book down, giving you a perfect moment to sling it back onto your cabnit. "Please stop." You frowned.

"Awe sorry baby," He laughed, pulling you down for a cuddle, "It's really hot though." You whined, "It is! Fuck babe," He sighed, "I really didn't think you'd wanna do anything like that!" It surpassed you how he had this ability to never be ashamed or embarrassed about anything. He dipped his head into your neck, "Like being chocked, filled with my cum. fuck, even messy..."

"Shut up!" You leant up, hands flying to his face, coving his mouth and you were straddled to his hips. "I can't believe you- I'm so embarassed!"

"Why?" Earnest and lovie as he moved your hands down.

"You were never meant to find out..."

"Why, you know im into anything?"

"Embarassing."

"No its not."

"yes, it is."

"You know," he started rubbing your thighs, "I'd love to fuck you dumb, fill you up, have you all messy-"

Now you'd be lying if you said he wasn't affecting you- you were embarrassed but so secretly turned on. Your tummy tensed, the blood went to your head, your thighs stiffened. But still your embarrassment was bigger, "Stop making fun of me!"

"Baby baby baby" He cooed, pulling your hands from your face, "I promise i'm really not."

You whined at him, he mimicked you back, pulling you down for a delicate honest kiss. It was deep and slow, him offering his truth to you. And who wouldn't melt into that? His hands now found your hip and your neck, in to your lips his mumbled "Roll over."

You gasp as he rearranges you both, your back now to the bed, "Wanna try something." He sat up continuing, "We can't your little sexual fantasies now-" You squirm in embarrassment, "But" He began stroking your cheek in efforts to pull you out your head. "I wanna try something new.""

He leant down planting a sweet kiss to your lips though you tried to chase him for a second, he was already moving down into your neck, planting even sweeter ones there. You could never stay quiet for his sightly chapped lips and heavy hands - small mewls slipped from you. "Good girl." Quiet, practically breathed from Eddie.

"We can't try the public-people-home stuff, but" another neck kiss, "I do.." another kiss to the other side, "really like the idea" a kiss under your ear, "of having you fully submitted" a kiss to the shell of your ear "to me"

The way you gasp makes Eddie sure he's hit gold with you. As he talks, your hand in his hair pulls and squeezes more, "How about," He moves along to kiss your cheek, "I get you on your knees" Another kiss, "no pillow, because desperate whores don't deserve kind treatment." A light kiss to your lips, "And I let you blow me?" Another kiss, "But" Kiss "I'll be holding your head," He was now resting on his forearms, fingers lost in your hair, "Pushing and pulling you exactly how I want?" Another light kiss met with a hearty pull of your hair, "Fill that little mouth up with my cum."

God you were in heaven - how did you manage to get a boy like him. All you felt you could do was nod at him. A tap of your thigh and you were on the floor kneeling between his legs as he sat on the edge of your bed.

Looking up at him, the shy coy expression fell naturally on you, "Pretty girl, aren't you?" He complimented. "Get on with it then." It was like a switch was flipped.

Excitedly, you get his belt and jeans off. His dick was hard and pretty as ever - not too big but a little wide, a more red tint than the rest of him already bleeding pre cum.

You got personal with it, licking the beed off, replacing it with a kiss. Eddie couldn't help the sigh - you ruin him on the daily no matter what you do. You could get lost playing with his head. He helped by tucking your hair behind your ears, keeping his hands on your lower head and jaw.

The kisses turn into kitten licks met with you looking up at him, his spaced out satisfied look made you smile, "Shit- open your mouth for me."

Sat up a bit more, the head of is cock resting on your lower lip, palms lost behind his calves: you were ready to try something you never thought you'd get to. The hands in your hair pushing you down slowly, and pulled you back up even more delicately - he giving both of you the space to gauge how yous felt.

"Suck it a bit harder" You did. "fuck-you love this, don't you?" You nod.

It was really all he needed - he didn't even need verbal confirmation, just the feel of your nails in the backs of his legs and how your eyes were rolled back and closing was enough, not to mentions the light noises in your throat. He pushed you down with more force, hands now cupping your cheeks and jaw.

He didn't make you deep throat him - neither of you needed to go that far at the moment. The half of his dick that was still straining your jaw send your brains both tumbling.

Eddie yanked you off him with a rough tug to your hair pulling a throat whine out of you, "Shit babe- you're a little slut aren't you?"

You nodded dumbly, "For you- love you."

"I love you too," A thumb stroked your cheek, "Daddy loves you."

Maybe it was the name. Maybe it was the humiliating reminder he had read you diary. Maybe it was the whispering in the empty quiet house. Maybe it was just him. But you were sure he'd just written you off to hell. You felt a beed of slick drop from your cunt.

And Eddie practically felt it too: he could see the haze covering your pretty eyes and the cheeky smile that covered your face.

A thumb toyed with your lip, he continued, "Gotta get you a little collar with my name on it." And with that you basically purred at him. Eddie was sure he was lost in you as you started to barely suck his thumb.

He'd never had you so spaced and floaty. Sure you've both spoken through sex before but nothing like this, nothing so painfully skilled in what the other actually needs to hear. Sex had never felt so possessive until right now.

The sight of you both was like it was from a porno: you, puffy lipped, half lidded eyes and big breaths; Eddie, pointed look, panting, loved up eyes.

The other hand dropped from your cheek and sat around your neck back - the pressure alone made your eyes flutter - and the sight went straight to his dick.

He popped his thumb out your mouth and brung you up for a dirty, messy, deep kiss. No coordination, just lust. Teeth smacking teeth, uncomfortable postures, hands gripping and clawing where ever they could.

He pulled away, standing up as if to leave. But you whine is stopped when you see he leant against your cabinet. Very idolly, he picked up the diary searching for the place he left off on, commanding a "Come here" using his fingers to make a curling motion, not even bothering to look up at you. "Crawl" He sneers almost as you go to get up.

Granted the space wasn't so big so the crawl was more of an awkward on-you-knees- shuffle but boy did that embarrassment climb back up inside you. If this was with anyone else, the pang of embarrassment woulda been too much, but something in Eddies low murmured tone did something totally new to you. "You're a good little pet, aren't you?"

His eyes never left the book in front of him: flicking through pages, scanning for the right sentence. He began reading off again. Completely as though it was the Sunday news paper and not your kinkiest secret fantasies.

"Eddie stop-"

"You know thats not my name." Eyes still in the book, tone stern and cold. You positioned on your claves between his legs, just waiting. "Thought you liked this? I know this isn't as good as being caught but its pretty close, right?" Finally he looks over.

The sudden feeling of something under you made you squirm, "Go on," He continued, "Get yourself off while I read your silly little diary."

The feeling that swelled in your belly was indescribable. It was overwhelming, unignorable and life changing. Like a duckling to its mother, you blindly listened: beginning to slowly rub yourself on the top of his foot.

"Suck my cock too, Sweetheart." He completely disregards you, finally finding his place on the pages. But he didn't start reading until he could feel your lips kiss his cock head.

You try to loose yourself in kissing him and the weight on your tongue but the perching reminder of what he is reading keeps pulling you out. The blood in your ears and the cotton in your brain were getting thicker.

You felt a ring or two pull on the strands of your hair, your gasps causing you to suck his in harder. You felt the rings apply more of a push at certain points of Eddies reading.

It's all sort of too dirty to really feel like its real life. Nobody really experiences this stuff right? Like it's all just movie magic? Clearly not. Clearly somehow you'd hit the jackpot. Somehow in small little irrelevant Hawkins in the mid 80s, you'd met the jack pot.

The sound of a book hitting a surface pulls you from your slack, readjusting yourself back to the present, you felt two hands play with your hair with more intent.

"Fuck-you sure know how to suck a dick, don't you?" He tucked some behind your ear, making you look up at him "Who taught you that?"

"You-da-daddy." Jumbled delivery thanks to the cock in your mouth.

"Sorry couldn't hear you."

"da-daddy" You tried, but sadly coming out more like 'dabby' thanks to the 5 inch obstruction in your throat.

The palms by your ears tighten, "good" It was almost like an extended sigh, "You gonna take it? Tap me if it's too much, yah?" Serious and caring, you nod.

"Yes" You respond to the eyebrow raise, "Yes daddy."

"Good little thing, aren't you?" Another tuck of your hair, and he pulled your head back in opposition to his hips going forward. He was using you clearlessly, not yet pushing you down as deep as he could, but rather just enjoying your lightness.

The room enters a soundtrack of hisses and hums, some slurps and some groans.

"I told you to get yourself off." It wasn't rude but you felt like you were being told off. Your heart pinged in your chest.

It was annoying how good it felt. Yes your knees stung and the carpet has turned into staples but who cared. The hands behind your ears making you deep throat him were heaven, the foot under your clit was heaven, Eddies musky smell was heaven.

Hums and hisses turned into the sound of fabric rubbing and small 'fuck's and 'shit's. And at this rate the streams of dribble coming off your chin and too the floor was definitely anything but disgusting.

Looking up at him and seeing him looking down, heaven too. "Gonna cum in your mouth." You really couldn't help the whorish whine. "Don't swallow it."

Something about that single demand got you were you needed it too. The swelling between your legs seemed to his its peak, the sheen of sweat tripped and your body felt like it was burning. Finger burring into his thighs, tummy tensed: you came over his foot, eyes rolled into the back of your skull.

Eddie using this as the perfect moment to use you. Seeing a moment where you'd given him your everything, he gripped you harder and thrusted deeply into your throat.

Still in your post orgasm haze, the 2 boney hands drag you up by your arm pits, a leg helps keep you stood. "Open." You couldn't even see him at the moment, but you knew behind the black was a man staring at you with all his love.

So you did as he told. Mouth open, cum threatening to spill, "Good, swallow." There was a hand to your throat, and them butterflies danced again. And then there was a light press to your lips that helps bring your eyes back open.

Neither of you could help getting lost a bit in the other - this was a big step, a big new, a good thing too! Eddie broke your moment off and tucked you into his chest, coddling you.

"I love you"

"I-love- you too"

He laughed at your breathiness. "Can we have an actual conversation about this now"

"Gimme a minute- I think my brains all mush."

He laughed again and gave a kiss to your hair.

#help I wrote this all out and it didnt save and I could look at this point for like 2 weeks after.#but she is done!!#I hope ive done your ask well #this was fun!!!!#relocated heads ask #Eddie munson #Eddie Munson x reader #Eddie Munson smut #Eddie Munson fluf #Eddie Munson soft #stranger things smut #Eddie munson fanfiction #joesph Quinn smut #Eddie Munson ask #joesph quinn #st4 #Eddie Munson headcanons #joesph Quinn fluff #joesph Quinn fanfiction

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pixiesholloworld · 2 months

Text

You don’t know how you managed to do it, but here you are. Saturo Gojo is your boyfriend; you were so impressed by him at all times—the way he could effortlessly carry conversations with anyone, even complete strangers! He was responsible... at times. Let’s just say he made sure to get things done.

He didn’t have a care in the world, even when his bosses were breathing down his neck. The stress of life seemed to glide right off of him like butter in a pan. He is the best at cooking dinners; he does the laundry and even goes as far as to fold and put it away. He didn’t want you to lift those pretty fingers of yours.

“Just leave it to me, baby, I’ll take care of it all,” he’d say while cupping your delicate cheek in his hand, planting kisses wherever he saw fit.

Still

You felt horrible, your boyfriend, Saturo Gojo, the strongest, the holder of the six eyes and limitless technique, househusband, breadwinner, all of these things. And then there was you, complaining about your sociology exam next week. You were entirely dependent on him, and you hated it.

You tried your hardest not to compare your lives but the vast difference in talents and capabilities were so blatant to you, it made you sick.

You had promised Gojo that you’d keep the house clean and be able to care for yourself while he was gone. He was going on a business trip for a while with his students. He’d be gone for a whole week!

“Are you sure you don’t need any extra money?” He was practically begging that you took his money

“I’ll be fine, turo." You insisted, after all, he’d only be gone for a week... then again, it would be the first time he was gone longer than a few days at a time. You couldn’t help but feel a deep neediness stir inside you.

You said your goodbyes and watched him walk out the front door to your shared apartment, you sighed deeply and went to work at your desk deciding to finish a few assignments before it got too late.

~~~~~

Ring..

You moan and lift your head up, the light from your desk blinding you. Looking around, you can see that you fell asleep while studying again. You check the time on your watch: 1:15 a.m.

You sigh and wipe the sleep from your eyes, picking up your phone in the process, it’s Saturo. Your heart went aflutter, a certain calmness came with seeing his name it was like he was always with you, even though you were nowhere near each other.

You could imagine him now, his lengthy legs spread out across his bed, his phone up to his ear as he chews on his nail, waiting for you to answer, wanting to hear how your day went. A warm smile spreads across your face as you slide your thumb across the screen to answer.

“Hello?”

You peep out, trying to keep your excitement hidden

“Hey doll face,” he responds, “ya miss me yet?”

“Of course not” you tease biting your lip and drawing a quick sketch of him in your notebook

“Have you eaten yet?”

He asks this already knowing the answer. His assumption being confirmed when you let out an exaggerated groan, you can hear a slight chuckle on the other end of the phone. He convinces you to make yourself a sandwich or to eat a salad—something small so you won't have a tummy ache in the morning.

While you went on to prepare a small meal for yourself, you spoke about your day to and your frustrations with school. He’d chime in every once in a while to make sure he knew who you were talking about too.

“That girl with the ugly boyfriend right? Just hearing about her makes my skin crawl”

“Your professor with the bald head? I wonder if that old geezer will ever retire”

You loved how invested he was in your life, even if you knew next to nothing about cursed spirits or sorcery in general, you were his peace, a slice of normality in his chaos-filled life. You lay in bed, fidgeting with the drawstring on your shorts as you continued on with your conversation.

Your knees are blocking the view of the black TV, only wanting to sink into Saturo’s voice, and though you tried not to admit it over the phone in an effort to not seem needy, you missed him. His tried yet deep voice trailed on in the background as you obsessed over how he sounds over the phone.

You could only imagine him now: how his large, pale hands would wrap around your waist every time you hugged, or how silly he would be in public, unconcerned with how the people around you would look at you two, how he’d let you sit in his lap after a long day of school and drift off to sleep, how he’d sometimes shift himself to be more comfortable while he was underneath you as the filthy idea of teasing him filled your mind.

You listened to his voice string along and then suddenly

“Have you ever touched yourself while we were on the phone together?”

“Nu uh,” he said softly

Wishing you could eat your words immediately afterwards, the bitter taste of embarrassment pulling at the back of your throat

“Do you want me to?”

Your heart nearly freezes at the suggestion with nothing but silence on your end, too shy to tell your boyfriend what you want.

“Awh baby,” he coos, “you do don’t you?”

A barely audible “mhm” is all he needs

“You’re gonna have to give me something to work with ya’know?” He breathes

You lift your shirt up, slightly pushing your boobs together to take a picture for him, double checking twice to make sure you send it to him and him only. He gives an exasperated sigh in response almost like he’s not satisfied.

“Keep your face in it” he demands, “thats the best part after all”

Anytime you and Saturo were about to get intimate, he made it a a point to make you as flustered as possible he loved the little faces you made as you squirmed under him, how your body hung to every word he said heating your cunt and getting you all riled up just for him. You didn’t know the effect would still be the same over the phone. You took the picture again, your puzzled face well within frame. As soon as you hit send you heard a satisfied hum from Saturo.

“Well don’t stop now, send me more”

You did as he said shuffling around in your bed to get different angles of your breast, your ass and cunt, teasing him by leaving your panties on. Admittedly, you liked being Saturo’s personal cam girl, you loved that only he could see these pictures and only he will be relieving himself to them.

“That’s it princess” he said under quick breaths, “m’ gonna fuck you so good when I get home… take your panties off” he demanded

But that was just it. You realized Saturo held so much power over you,, of course you loved giving him what he wanted but now you were in control, your mind played with the idea of holding out on Saturo, listening to his strained gasps and lustful whimpers it wouldn’t cause any harm if you denied him what he wanted.. right?

“No” you said quickly, Saturo almost couldn’t believe it

“Huh?” he shuttered mid stroke

“No” you purr

“How’dya expect me to finish then, hm?”

“Beg” you replied

This is something you never thought you’d request of Saturo, but the way he sounds on the phone right now, he sounds so vulnerable and something about it turned you on though you’re glad you did when he chokes out:

“Please mommy”

It caught you off guard the first time though truthfully it sent a quick shiver up your spine, stimulating your nipples and making your clit jolt he continued begging quick breaths and broken whines filling up the air

“Please take them off mommy, I wanna see you” he begs

Knowing you can’t hold out after he said that you take them off and show him your slick peral, the light glistening off of it even in the dimly lit room

“Awh fuck!” He says upon seeing you, “talk me through it please, I wanna hear you”

“Keep stroking it baby” the words gliding off your tounge effortlessly, “you’re doing such a good job”

He whines into the phone, deep huffs filling the air he twists his hand while pleasing himself desperately trying to mimic the feeling of your wet cunt. Images of you flowing in and out of his mind, drops of precum pouring over his inflamed tip, his body quivering at the sudden power exchange

“M-more” he manages to breathe out

“Hm? More of what darling?”

His breath becomes more ragged because of this, “tell me i’m doing good, please, please keep going”

Who knew that your boyfriend, Saturo Gojo, the strongest, the holder of the six eyes and limitless technique, domineering in all ways, liked to be praised he liked to hear how much he was pleasing you, obeying your every command.. filling your ears with desperate groans and jagged breaths, his hips starting to have a mind of their own as he starts mindlessly fucking into his hand and it was all because of you.

“I have to — i have to~” he whimpers as if the words are being choked out of him

“Use your words” you coo

“Let me cum” his breath shatters towards the end of his sentence

The air becomes filled with gentle pleads along with your fair share of teasing until you finally let him have it, he almost sounds like he’s crying from how much pleasure he’s feeling. Milky shoots of cum pile up on his hand and he sends you a picture of his half hard cock, breathing heavily from touching himself to you, after he feels like hes collected himself enough he shoots you a question,

“Why haven’t we done this before?”

As if he wasn’t begging and pleading with you moments ago, you chuckle

“I dunno” you say almost innocently

The two of you continue on with your conversation for the rest of the night, the sexual tension growing as it carries on and no matter what topics you trailed onto one thing was for certain

Neither of you could wait until next week.

#short but hey :p #gojo saturo #saturo gojo x reader #jjk smut #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #black reader #jjk #smut #jujutsu gojo #saturo smut #gojo x reader #gojo smut #gojo x you #gojo

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chiiyuuvv · 5 months

Note

BESTIEEE

I FINALLY PASSED MY HISTORY EXAM💃💃💃💃

I failed this exam A LOT OMG

BUT guess what...I PASSED IT WITH 100/100

Girl I can't believe it🥹🥹

SAUR how do you think xikers will react to you passing an exam/important test that you were working on for a long time/stressing over a lot?

You can write it whenever you can cuz I think your requests are closed, BUT I CAN WAIT. I want YOUR thoughts because you are the best writer on this app frfr. So take your time

Anyways take care bestie, don't skip your meals, love youu🤍

-🌵 anon<3

• PAIRING — bf!xikers x gn!reader

• GENRE — proud xikerss :DD, slight kissing, almost wrote a whole fic for hunter-

• WORD COUNT — 782

• AUTHOR'S NOTE — sorry this is so late!! And good job on your tests :O

• TAGLIST — @lil-elle , @hyunukitty , @cake1box , @mars101 , @nenede , @soul-is-a-strange-kid , @the-lemon-boy , @yuniniverse

MASTERLIST! – JOIN THE TAGLIST!

MINJAE ☆

Hes not even surprised atp, he knows how smart you are

But boy does he pretend to be shocked, his hand covering his mouth as he takes in another gasp

But his other hand is hiding behind his back

You seem to notice and the only thing he can do is giggle, revealing an neatly folded box

Turns out there was a very pretty necklace inside, minjae spinning you around to put it on you, whispering in your ear how pretty you look and how proud he is ♡

JUNMIN ☆

Makes sure you do nothing for the rest of the week

So what if its monday?? He'll do anything for his precious baby since you worked so hardd

Will make your meals and clean the kitchen, your room, your study area

Even gives you a bath

And he wont stop either, that is, if you want cuddles ♡

SUMIN ☆

Sumin knew how stressed out you'd get with your exams so he prepared you a little smth!!

(And also some tissues)

Finally uncovering your eyes, you find a self portrait of yourself studying

And lemme just say how beautiful you look

The lines sketched with such care and patients, now you know why sumin had been smiling so much lately ♡

JINSIK ☆

I think this calls for pizza!! 🗣🗣‼‼

Also makes sure you do nothing. All you gotta do is just there and look pretty and that was already took no effort

Also a movie night because why not, and you've been meaning to catch up on some movies, also why not??

His arm wrapped your shoulder at all times, and will whine if you try to move around

Plus random cheek kisses, yeah, thats about it ♡

HYUNWOO ☆

Decides to buy tickets last minute and takes you to the fair!!

Lots of hand holding and pda, wiping some off the cinnamon off of your lips caused by your churros

Will attempt to get you those huge teddy bears, but sulks when he cant so you just gotta give him some kisses

Also the ferris wheel!!

Makes sure youre at the tippy top then he processed to tell you how proud his is and how special you mean to him, sealing it with a kiss ♡

JUNGHOON ☆

Yall know junghoon isnt that big on physical affection

But when he hears the news hes a changed man

His eyes shot open and his hands moving faster than his brain, picking you up and spinning you around when he gives you the biggest kiss on your cheek

Wait whaat??

Wdym he did that no he didnt stop being so delusional he didnt kiss your cheek and secretly enjoyed it but not enjoying your teasings rn shut up 🙄 ♡

SEEUN ☆

"Really?! I thought you failed!!"

His response earned him a huge punch

But hes only joking, ruffling your hair before dialing his phone, calling everyone and their mom to tell the news

Man does more than just spill the tea, he makes it from scratch

Hes overally dramatic when he tells your adventure, saying how you had to cross 7 seas just to find the right answer.. but you love him anyways 🤷‍♀️ ♡

YUJUN ☆

Hes wants to hear all about it, so spill the tea 😠😠

Another one to think you taking a test was so dramatic, having to slay a dragon just to get the right answer to a question

And boy is he listening!! (He listens to you more than minjae)

He'd be so awestruck when youre done, his jaw lefted open and hes looking at you with sparkly eyes

Hes so proud of you too :(( ♡

HUNTER ☆

Also think hes like minjae with the gift giving, pulling out this beautiful bracelet he bought months ahead of time because he knew you'd do well

But unlike minjae, he takes you out to dinner!!

Yes, a big, fancy dinner. And hes paying for it all by himself <3

Hunters prince agenda omgomg

No bc he'd drop down on his knees to kiss the back of your hand, making sure to look up at you in the process, opens every. Since. Door in sight and also pushes you into your chair. Andd he also leans against the table to wipe something off the corner of your lips, giggling to himself bc youre just so adorable. i could write a whole fic honestly... ♡

YECHAN ☆

You passed your exam? Give him a hug

You got an A?? Give him a hug

You thought you were going to fail? Frowns at you, before hugging you tightly

Spends the rest of the day giving you so much love, youre only allowed to be in his arms

And is the boy so soft??? The most gentle hes ever been ♡

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imaplatypus-art · 18 days

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Spike redesign 🔥 THE FINALE ART IS NEXT 👀.

Bonus sibling sketch and height chart!

He hatched with wings, but he can barely hover because he was raised by unicorns. Does not have "mail magic," but he is still very helpful to Twi. He learns to fly when Twi gets wings. He is a 100% member of Twilight's family and acknowledged regularly. He is Twilight's first friend and only one for a while. His hatching story is way different(I wrote it out on P A T R E O N and may do a comic) because it's kinda messed up that Celestia used a dragon egg for a entry exam. Plus, I can make him closer in age to Twi and have him no excuse to push him aside 😤

I know I'm not a great designer or writer, but this is just for fun!

See my art before everyone here also I have designed baby & adult Spike on there

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pied-piper-the-survogel · 7 months

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Fossil Novembirb, the first nine days

Hello World. I never thought I'd be on this site, but here I am. This blog was created for the purpose of participating in a-dinosaur-a-day's Fossil Novembirb. Fossil Novembirb is a yearly art event founded by Meig Dickson, a vertebrate palaeontologist who, as far as I can tell, studies dinosaurs, especially theropods. Don't fight me or em over birds being theropod dinosaurs. Neither ey nor I want to have this conversation, so enjoy the art!

I started off my Fossil Novembirb with Vegavis iaai. What makes this fluffy anseriform special is that we found a fossilised syrinx (avian voice-maker) belonging to one of these, so we can reconstruct their sounds. This Vegavis was coloured based on a bunch of anseriforms that are alive today, like ruddy shelducks and cotton pygmy geese.

For Day 2, I did a bit of spec evo and pulled out a scientific name I told myself I'd assign to a newly-discovered fossil genus. This sketch has a Serina-like text description for Phantasmavis.

Tropicbirds! I chose to draw Clymenoptilon because I was hoping "tropicbird" meant "brightly coloured bird". Even though they aren't that brightly coloured, they're still cool. And Kumimanu (approximately to scale in this drawing) didn't really have the obligation to be black-and-white like most extant penguins (because Inkayacu), so I went... mild-wild with the colours.

No... one's... tall like Gastornis, no one calls like Gastornis! In the bottom right, no one feeds small like Gastornis!

I've seen the "Andy's Prehistoric Adventures" episode featuring these megafowl, realised it was Walking With Dinosaurs with a human inserted, and drawn a mildly speculative colouration for these Gastornis. To the left, two adults have their necks out towards each other and are calling into the sky. Whether this is courtship or a challenge, nobody knows. But a calmer scene happens in the bottom right, where a mother shows her chick red berries on a branch to show them that it is food.

"Don't make me fly up there, you punk!" is one way to interpret the screamerduck Anachronornis' call in the direction of the Primoptynx owl. This scene unfolds in the Palaeocene-Eocene Thermal Maximum ecosystem of the Willwood Formation before it was rock.

It's a twilight hummingswift! We know the colour of this iridescent little birb from the Danish Fur Formation. I watched a tutorial on painting iridescence, but I'm not really satisfied with the parent feeding their chick to the left of the flying Eocypselus rowei. It's hard to see, but there's a baby hummingswift being fed a Cimbrophlebia scorpionfly.

London Clay has a lot of plant fossils. Not all of them are listed on Wikipedia, but there's a photo of a pencil-root mangrove seed listed. Featuring a speculatively-coloured Eotrogon, a Dasornis carrying away a mackerel, and a Prophaeton just gliding, and repeat telecasts Gastornis parisiensis and Eocypelus rowei, Eocene London was a birder's dream (believe me, I'm a kinda-birder).

This Tynskya art was somewhat late, rather dissatisfactory, and mildly rushed. I had an exam the next day. Don't judge me.

And here's a better Primozygodactylus! I couldn't tell the specific species because it wasn't listed for the Wikipedia image. But here we are: a bird that gives off ashy prinia/sparrow/orange-headed thrush vibes.

This concludes the first nine days! I don't know if I'll be doing the tenth because nobody's giving me straight answers about the palaeobotany of the Green River formation.

Enjoy!

#fossil novembirb #dinosaur #birds #paleoart #this site is as chaotic as it seemed when I first anonymously browsed eir blog #paleogene #palaeogene #eocene #cenozoic #maastrichtian

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lilsocksiswriting · 2 years

Photo

Fandom: Jujitsu Kaisen

Paring: Sukuna X Fem!reader

Summary: Sukuna realizes that by dating you he may be creating a horny little monster and he's ok with that.

Warnings: NSFW, No Beta, minors DNI,

Tags: College/modern Au, more fluff, very suggestive themes

Word Count: 5k

Masterlist

Chapter 3 || Chapter 5

Author Note: I would have included the sex scene in this chapter but I’m feeling real slutty for a parallel with the first chapter.

You don’t wake up from your alarm blaring right next to your ear causing your heart to lurch in your chest. You simply wake up. There is not even that small moment where you feel like you’re about to cry like a baby because you want to go back to sleep. You feel refreshed, good, ready for the day and that stupid final exam.

You still don’t want to get out of bed. At least not yet. You want to enjoy this time laying in Sukuna’s bed before your thoughts catch up to you. Everything is so warm and comfy, and you slept so well. The kind where you wake up with sheet impressions, drool dried across your cheek and soaking into the pillow. Only you weren’t laying on a pillow.

You sit up abruptly, waking Sukuna up with a startled grunt. Sukuna hates when people disturb his sleep. But all his anger dissipates when he cracks his eyes and sees your face staring back down at him. Your face is red with embarrassment. Dried slobber glues a few stands of hair to your cheek. You look so cute like this.

“I’m sorry.”

His face falls. What did you have to be sorry for? What is for the past week? Couldn’t you just forget about that for a little while longer and enjoy a morning with him?

“I-I drooled all over your shoulder.”

Oh, was that it? Why do minuscule things like this make you sound so guilty? You did this same thing last night too when you left your tears soaked into his shirt.

“If it bothers you that much in can invest in something more waterproof to wear around you. Did you sleep as good as it looks?”

You nod, “Yea, it was the best sleep I’ve had in a while actually.”

Sukuna smiles triumphantly and folds his hands behind his head. “Good. Then you should be rested enough to tell me what the hell’s been going on with you.”

“You know a small part of me was holding out hope that you would have forgotten about that long enough for me to sneak out.”

“Ha, not a chance doll. In fact, I might not even let you leave this bed,” waking up to the warmth and weight of your body alone was enough to arouse him. He really did have it that bad for you.

“And how would you plan on doing that?” the banter came out easily.

The tattooed man just has to give you that stare and lick his lips to cause your cheeks to heat up.

“Would be ashamed if you had to miss that final of yours.”

‘Would it?’ because honestly losing yourself in these sheets with Sukuan didn’t sound as bad as it should.

“So come on, out with it.”

“I’ve…” though you weren’t tired, and you can actually think, this is still hard to put into words, “I really fucked up. I’ve been such a horrible person. A horrible, stupid person.”

“And how have you been so horrible and foolish?”

“I- oh god,” you have to look away from Sukuna. Choosing instead to focus on the scattered sketching paper atop his desk. “I had this really big stupid schoolgirl crush on you when I first started to hang out with Yuji. You know, like, the best friend's hot older brother kind of crush.

But then I started to get close to everyone and I was like ‘wow this is what having real friends feels like. Which, I know, sounds pretty lame. But just having formed like Yuji, and Nobara and Megumi made me realize that all the friends I had back home were so…surface level. They wouldn’t hold my hair back when I got sick. They didn’t care if I was overworking myself. They really just cared about reputational and how we looked out friend’s group looked to those outside of it. But that’s beside the point.

The point is that I was afraid of losing that. Of being all alone at this big new school. I was so afraid of losing these first real friendships that started to make up reasons why we wouldn’t be a good match. But then I had to start thinking about why we wouldn’t be good together. And I guess- no I know at some point all those reasons kept telling myself just started to sort of snowball until I was making all these assumptions about you being a bad person. But you were never one in the first place, ok wall not as bad of one as I made you out to be.

You had feelings for me this whole time I and I just fucked that all up with the way I acted and made assumptions.

I wanted to apologize for the way I always thought the worst of you even when you were trying to be a good person to me. But I was so stressed and tired, and I could barely think of anything beyond finals and work, and I wanted to give you a genuine apology. I want to give everyone a genuine apology for pushing them away. I just don’t know if I can find the right words. I mean would an apology even do anything. What if I already ruined everything e with everyone?”

You take in a shaky breath. Sukuna is relieved. This wasn’t something that was entirely his doing. He is still confused.

“Why did you say had?”

You look back to Sukuan mimicking his face of confusion, “When? I kind of just word vomited there. I’ve surprised that was all coherent.”

“You said I have feelings for you.”

“Oh,” you guess you did, and you are remained how much that realization hurt. “Uhm yea, I ruined my chance with you- “Sukuna’s bedroom walls blur for a moment, and you find yourself under an annoyed-looking Sukuna quickly laying back in bed with him.

Sukuna just stays there above you, hand on either side of you. Just glaring, saying nothing to help you figure out what was going on in his head.

“Um, Sukuna- “

“Shut up. I’m thinking.”

“Of?”

“I said shut up.”

You open your mouth to say something, but you really can’t think of anything besides the fact that Sukuan isn’t always angry or annoyed. He just has a resting bitch face, doesn’t he?

“I’m shit when it comes to bluntly say stuff like this. I’m not all for deep emotional talks and all that. I can see how I came off like the arrogant ass to you. And you were never full wrong in those assumptions as being arrogant and an occasional ass is my brand of charm. It still wasn’t ok for you to go making assumptions like that. I should have just come out and said that I liked you a long time ago instead of beating around the bush and hoping you’d get the message”

You blink up at Sukuna who continues to look down at you waiting for a response. But all you can think of to say at the moment is, “You still like me.”

Sukuna sighs and his eyes flutter close, “My god y/n seriously?”

“What? I- “

“Yes, I am fucking like you. I like so many things about you. I like how you can look like you’re about to take on the work and win. I like that I can be myself around Yuji and you aren’t intimidated by me. I Like that you call me out on shit and don’t back down until I apologize. I like your body. Fuck, your body is amazing. And when you dress business casual? Holy fuck y/n, that shit drives me crazy-

You slap a hand over Sukuna’s mouth before he can go on. “Ok ok! I get it now. I- I just wow. I- “a smile breaks out across your face and giddiness blooms in your chest.

Sukuna licks the palm of your hand, and you jerk it back. He’s smiling too. So, you did get to see that softness his face can take again after all. Your hands come to cup Sukuna's face, and he lets you pull him down closer to you.

“So does this mean….”

“Mean what?”

“Well since we both still have feelings does it mean, ya know,” you try again hoping he’d catch on

And Sukuan has caught on, he’s just Sukuna. “Oh, of course, we can doll, 12/10 dick right?”

“No- I mean that too, but does this mean that we can, ya know.”

“No, I don’t,” he says then drops his voice to that sinful tone. “You got to use your words doll.”

It’s too early for him to sound that hot and make you feel this turned on. But it works he wins. “Does this mean we can date?”

“I thought that was obvious.”

“So, is that a yes then?”

“Yes,” Sukuan rolls his eye but closes the tiny distance between you two. Between the small kisses, Sukuan confirms,” We’re dating. You’re my girlfriend. I’m your boyfriend. We’re lovers now. In a relationship. Together. Spoken for.”

You don’t let him pull away that time. Your hands slide up, combing your fingers through his short pink locks. All it takes is a nibble on your bottom lip to deepen the kiss. You two stay like this, engrossed in each other until you need a deep breath.

You turn your face away from Sukuan apologizing as you catch your breath,” Sorry, I probably have morning breath.”

“Rancid.”

“Shut up.”

“We should get up anyway. You need to get ready.

Sukuna rolls off you so that you can get out of bed and go about your daily routine of getting ready. Since you’re final was just a written exam you don’t need to dress up which is good because you don’t have any clean clothes. In fact, after going through your morning skincare routine and brushing your teeth you decide to just stay in leggings and Sukuna’s hoodie.

Downstairs in the kitchen, Yuji’s grandfather is at the stove fishing up a pan of bacon. At the table, Yuji, Nobara, and Megumi excitedly wait for everything to be finished up. When everyone looks at you, you’re suddenly at a loss for words. Or more specifically there are so many words swirling in your head that you don’t know where to start.

So, your left with your mouth gapingly like a fish out of water. You’ve ever apologized to friends before. You never had friends to apologize to before. Anything before the three were fake. fake smiles, fake happiness. This was real. This is something you don’t want to lose. So, an apology might be a good place to start.

“I’m sorry. I-I shouldn’t have, um shut everyone out like I have.”

“And?” Sukuna’s voice behind you makes you jump.

“Um, I-I’ve just never had friends like your guys, and I didn’t know how to do this, apologize that is. I still don’t think I’m doing right, like saying sorry isn’t enough. But here I am trying,”

“And?” Sukuna urger’s again and you rack your brain for more words to grab onto.

“I promise to not do it again. If I’m having a hard time, I’ll talk to someone.”

“And?”

“I just really don’t want to lose you guys as friends, you’re like the first real friend I’ve had. Sad sounding but true.”

“And?”

And? and what else. What was she missing? What else was there to tell?

“Um, me and Sukuna are dating now.”

“And?”

“I hope he doesn’t make things awkward.”

And?” Sukuna's tone is amused, and you don’t pick up on it because you’re still stuck on thinking that you’re missing something.

“We’ll um, we’ll work out system. Like a sock on the doorknob or something so that no one walks – “

“Nope, don’t even go there,” their grandfather cuts in pointing the spatula over your shoulder. “And you, stop torturing the poor girl. She’s said enough.”

“Gramps is right. Sorry was enough.” Yuji adds.

“I just wanted to see how long she’d go on for.”

You turn your head to glare over your shoulder, “you are an ass.”

“And you’re very attracted to it,” He retorts stealing a quick kiss and then heading on into the kitchen.

You do your best to suppress a mile and follow suit. You feel lighter. Happier than you’ve been all week. Everything has come to a head and passed. This is what has come after, and it is nice. You had thought of the worst-case scenario, but never the best-case scenario. You and Sukuan have taken a seat at the table.

“So, who confessed?” Nobara asks

“Um, you,” you point at Sukuna who laughs.

“Not a chance. You the one would have to ask multiple times to make sure we were dating.”

“But you did confess to me first.”

“Nope. You did.”

“I did?”

“You probably didn’t nice it because you were just rambling on and on.”

“I- “you cut yourself off and slump your shoulders because yea that sounds like something you would do.

“I win,” Megumi pipes up.

“Oh?”, you curiously ask,” what’d you guys bet on?”

Sukuna didn’t share in your amused curiosity,” You three dweebs bet of us?”

“We bet on who would confess the feelings first,” Nobara corrected and went on to explain,” Megumi was the only one who bet on y/n I bet you would, and Yuji bet that neither of you would nor we would continue to a bear witness to the great pinning.”

“I was not pining.”

Their grandfather comes over from the stove to place down the plate of bacon with the rest of the food he’s cooked.

“Oh yes you were and even I was getting fed up with it,” He gripes while taking a seat on the other side of Sukuna.

“I wouldn’t call it pining…” Sukuna’s continued protest now seemed more like pouting that no one paid any mind to being too busy filling their plates.

“So, what finals you kids got left?”

“I’m the only one with a final today, right?”

The three other students nod in agreement with their plates now full.

Wasuke grits his teeth then snaps at the three,” Then why the hell did I cook breakfast for you three if you ain’t even got finals anymore?”

“Reward?” Yuji offers.

“I thought you said last night you were going to make breakfast because you didn’t trust me to make it.”

“Certainly not after that little comment you made last night,” There is a pointed tone on Wasuke’s scolding.

Sukuna, being as arrogant as he is, leans back on his chair and swings an arm across the back of your chair. You realize too late that he was seizing this as another opportunity to make your face beat red. “Who am I to judge my girlfriend's taste? If she likes a little something extra on her eggs, why am I to deny her that? “He cuts her eye to you. “Especially when I have so much of it.”

Megumi scrunches his face up. “Do we even- “

“ANWAY!” you nearly screech. “My final. It’s with professor Ully.”

“Ully, that old geezer?”

Yuji scoffs trying to stifle his laugh. “I don’t think you much younger than him gramps.”

“At least I know how to use the godman Blackboard.”

“Amen to that.” You raise a glass of orange juice Sukuna had poured for you. “He’s the one that doesn’t everything on paper remember.”

Nobara hums putting the pieces together,” Oh gross, and isn’t your final, like an essay questions test?”

“Exactly.”

Breakfast goes on like this, light conversation and complaining about the semester’s professors with Wasuke throwing in a bit of gossip here and there with that gripey tone of his that almost made it seem like he was uninterested in the whole thing.

When breakfast finished Waskue hades upstairs to pack for his end-of-the-year fishing trip. With the five of you on clean-up, it only takes a few minutes. You and Sukuna take up washing and drying the dishes.

“So, the strip tonight?” he asks.

The strip was one street a few blocks from campus that was just bars. You and the gang plus Sukuna would always go bar hopping to celebrate the end of another semester. You have some fond memoirs of stumbling home, laughing, and drunkenly trying to order from whatever fast-food place was nearby. Sukuna would have left you four longs before then with his arm wrapped around someone’s waist and his hand lips against their ear. You don’t tell him how would take a shot of something strong to burn away the pang of jealously. You wanted to be the one he wraps up his arms. The one who he was probably whispering sweet and lewd little nothings to.

And now you were.

“This will be the first time going out with a partner. Do you think you can behave yourself? Will it be too jarring for you?”

“You trying to tease me doll but you’re failing so bad l. I’m just wondering if you’ll leave early with me or am I going to have to take your drunk ass to get Taco Bell.”

“Leave early?”

He nods tossing a glance over his shoulder before dropping his voice so that only you would hear him. “I get wanting to celebrate, but I want to take you home tonight and make love to you.”

A little noise gets alighting the break of your thought.

“What?”

“Didn’t expect you to ever use the phrase ‘make love to you,” you admit handing him another plate to dry.

“I think it’s a nice way to encompass all the things I wanna do to you.”

“And what sort of things do you wanna do to me.”

Sukuna smirks and explains “I would offer to take you up to my room and show you, but I’d hate for you to miss your final. But if you must know I want to fuck you the way I wanted to fuck you that night.”

“Oh,” is all you can say because your head gets a little fuzzy at the thought of it.

“That’s all?”, his face falters

“No. Just- my mind went a little blank at the thought of mushy gushy romantic sex with you.”

And the arrogant smirk is back.” Oh, I’ll make you so gushy you won’t be nothing but a puddle who can’t even think.”

“OK!” Yuji slaps his hand on the counter he was just wiping down, “If this is gnat to work, we need a ground rule here. No dirty talking or anything dirty of the sort while in our presence got it.”

You’re unable to hold back a snort of laughter and hold up your soapy gloves. “We’ll be sure they stay three whole bibles lengths apart.” even going so far as to take a step away from the tattooed man.

“As far as you’re concerned little brother, we abstinence. No kissing until marriage.”

You two break that vow right before you head out for your final. Sukuna wraps his arm around your waist and spins you around to give you another quick peck on the lips. You can’t stop the giddy giggles on the way out. It just feels so nice to finally be able to not hide your feeling or deny you have them anymore

“You know we are happy for you.” Nobara notes as the for of you walk to campus. “But can we please keep the verbal fucking down to a minimum?”

“Thanks, and I promise I will try my best. I can’t say the same for Sukuna. Now, what are we wearing tonight?”

Your final went just how you thought it would. Quick but painful. Your hand is cramping so bad as you make your way back to your dorm. Your roommate is still at her final, singing her lungs out in a place that isn’t the dorm. Something you are extremely thankful for

You spend the rest of the day clearing up the disaster left behind by the week and lounging around in bed still in Sukuna’s hoodie. You smile goofily to yourself because that was another plus to dating Sukuna now; you don’t have to buy warmer clothes. It would be a con for Sukuna since he was about to have a lot of lees holies and crew necks.

When it gets dark you get ready for the night and head over to Nobars’s dorm to help her get ready. The boys meet you at the edge of campus. In the semesters before Sukuna would have simply given you a smirk and some sort of teasing remark. He still doesn’t that, only with the added part of tucking you to his side and keeping you warm on the walk over.

Something else is different though. It’s not something wrong. At least you don’t think it is despite the uneasiness churning in the pit of your stomach. It’s not something that everyone else seems to notice either so maybe it's just you. But what is it? What was making you feel so nervous?

“Doll?” Sukuna finally asks while in lone for the I.D check after you’ve been quiet the whole way to their first bar.

“Hm?” you look up.

“You just seem to be in your head.”

“Oh, I’m fine- “you stop as you look continues to look into Sukuna’s face, it has the same hits of concern from last night. You suddenly remember what caused that concern and how you might be doing it again. “I um, well…I think I’m nervous. I’m just not very sure why?”

Sukuna watches you gnaw on your bottom lip. He can practically see your mind working overtime to try and figure it out. He knows that it’s a lot more than just some nerves, but at least you not trying to hide that something’s bothering you. The line moves up and Yuji gets his I. D checked. It’s too late to ask you to elaborate on it but Sukuan doesn’t forget it.

Once Megumi comes back with the first round of drinks you almost feel like you were never nervous, to begin with. Everything settles into normal. The only difference is that you are setting tucked into Sukuna’s side with his arm around your shoulders. You want to enjoy this but there is just this thing in the back of your mind that you can’t hide tiny that makes you feel uneasy. It bothers you.

After drinks, the three go off to the dance floor while you and Sukuan sat behind to watch them. You would usually go with the three, but Sukuna’s firm arm keeps you in place.

With the trio gone leaving the quiet booth to yourselves so he can finally ask you, “So nervous?”

You slump a little and take to sliding your index finger around the rim of your empty glass. “I should just stop holding out hope you’d forget this kind of stuff huh?”

“It’d be a lot easier if ya would. And to stop to avoid talking about it too. We know what happen last time. Don’t get me wrong the head was great, but I’d rather have you suck me off without all the drama.”

“How do you just do that? Say naughty stuff like that?”

“Don’t change the subject.”

“I don’t know why I’m nervous,” You admit quickly like it was a shameful thing that you don’t know how your own mind works.

Sukuna glances from you to the trio of idiots currently jumping around on the dance floor and screeching out the lyrics to the song blaring on the speaker. He was stalling for time. Making sure that what he said next wouldn't be too vague. You were the only one trying to change after last night,

“I think you think too hard about stuff.”

“Was that supposed to be reassuring?”

“Yes? I hoped it would at least. Do you have any idea of what's making you nervous?”

“That’s the thing. I can’t. I don’t want to be anywhere else but here with everyone. Like I’m excited and happy to be celebrating and to leave with you to have some awesome sex. But I’m still just nervous. And I can’t figure out why.”

“Have you ever felt nervous like this before?”

“I don’t think so. But I am all honestly…. but in all honestly these nudes feel kind of new to me,”

And there it was. Sukuna bites the inside of his cheek bit doesn’t work. He still laughs. It’s cute and funny and he just can’t help it. The glare you look at him with is even funnier because you really can’t see it.

“Y/n do you think you are nervous because this is new to you?”

“What do you mean? I’ve been out to a bar,” you point an accusing finger at him, “With you before.”

“Yes, you have. But we’re together now. You don’t have to shoot me dirty looks because you're the one who gets to take me home. Because we’re out at a bar as a couple. “

“I was never jealous.”

“Never said you were a doll.”

“I hate you.”

“Haven’t you always?”

You only stick your tongue in reply. Sukuna presses the back of his thump into the underside of your jaw making you crane your neck so he can lean down for a kiss.

When he pulls away, he warns in a tone that almost makes you think he’s daring you instead, “Now, now, don’t be a brat tonight, I wanna so easy on you tonight.”

“Is it really that simple?” you ask in disbelief.

A coy chuckle makes your stomach flip, “Let’s not find out yea?”

You let out a small huff leaning your head on his shoulder. “No dumbass that that’s the way it is. Am I really nervous because this is just something new to me?”

“I dunno, you tell me.”

“…. I’ve never done this before.”

“What did I say about using your words doll?”

You huff,” I am. I’m trying. I’ve never been out with someone like this. My dates have been pretty vanilla. Like nice dinner and a movie ya know. Like I said: surface level. They didn’t me feel like this. All giddy and stuff. “

“That sounds kind of sad. But also, is more proof to my theory that I am the only man to have ever made you cum.

“You don’t have to remind me,” you tell him. “I just don’t know what we’re supposed to do ok. God, I sound so freaking clueless right now.”

“What do you want to do?” Sukuna’s serious tone catches you off guard

You to sit straight so you can look at him. “What do you mean?”

“You’re here tonight to celebrate another semester and I’m not here to put a damper on that.”

“But there's got to me like boundaries something?”

“Wow, doll what naughty things are you thinking about.”

You feel your face flush with heat. You weren’t thinking of anything of the sort. You just couldn’t get acclimated to the idea of that much freedom. You had grown up around rules and structures that extend to all parts of your life, including dating. To suddenly not have nothing to dictate how you behave and tell when what to do- well it was scary, but it also made you feel drunk and giddy with the power.

“Whatever I want?” you ask, mind getting lost in the sea of possibilities now before you.

Sukuna swallows at the sudden change in your voice. At times like this, he wonders if you are aware of how seductive you can be. Your lips are parted slightly and look so inviting. Your eyes are full of so much desire and Sukuan wants to give it all to you. Whatever you want. Whatever you desire.

“Yes, “he answers trying to sound somewhat like he’s not getting lost himself, “I’m not here to tell you what you can and can’t do y/n,”

“Oh?” fuck that coy smile goes straight to his heart. Your eyes cut back to the dance floor. Absent of the trio who went off to get another round of drinks.

When you return your attention back to Sukuna, he can tell you challenge him. Testing these new waters. “What if I wanted to take someone home with us?”

Fuck, you were so God damn perfect.

“Oh, you want a toy to play with?” he refuses to look away from you. He probably couldn’t even if he tried to excite to be hearing this side of you. “Why even wait? You could have any one of these people following you into the bathroom like a lost puppy. We could have them between us within the hour doll. Or would you rather me watch as you make them come under your touch? Or are you the type to like an audience while I fuck you?”

You open your mouth to say something but quickly close it and grow beat red. You’re the first to break and it causes a smug sense of satisfaction to swell in Sukuna’s chest.

“Ok, yea. It’s going to take some work to get used to that. Don’t think my confidence is quite there yet. Seriously how do you do it?”

“A threesome not your thing?”, he teases.

But then you look back out the dance floor and bit your lip. It makes Sukuan get the sense that he’s watching the beginnings of a monster being made.

“Another conversation for another day.”

“Are you blushing,” Yuji asks coming back to the table followed by Megumi and Nobara.

You cup your cheeks. They were warm but Yuji shakes his head and points a finger at his brother. “I mean you.”

“No.” Sukuna answerers with that a pointed glare that told his brother to shut up. But you can see now too.

“I made you blush!”

“Don’t let it go to your head doll.”

“Too late”

After another round of drinks, you want to join the dancing this time. Sukuna lets you pull him to the dance floor with everyone else and with the thumbing base so loud you must pull Sukuna down so your lips are pressed into his ear.

“I can’t wait to go home with you tonight!”

Sukuna's chest thrums as a large smile plasters itself across his face. You can’t hear what he says but the way he pulls your hips into his and smothers his face into your neck tells you he is very happy to hear that.

#sukuna #sukuna x y/n #sukuna x reader #jjk sukuna #jjk imagines #jjk #privet stacks

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goldenzingy46butwriteblr · 2 years

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good morning everyone (yes it is 6pm no i don’t care) i’m gonna crash tumblr as at @louveclaviere has tagged me in a tag game! (ily)

Rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! And then tag as many people as you have wips. I have deemed that this isn’t just for writing either. Sketch titles? Comics? Dnd campaigns? If you have an unfinished project, it counts!!

let’s go!

1. my heart beats against your silver knife

2. when we’re alone

3. murder on the orient express - harry potter

4. my twisted broken wonderland

5. the great riddle conspiracy

6. riddle me that, youtube

7. riddle me chat fic

8. you + me: the remix

9. falling for someone (long gone)

10. the war never ends (but the soldiers do)

11. red eyes and a metal heart

12. alone on the ice

13. and traces of death hung off his fingertips

14. branded for revenge

15. beware the cunning of the snake

16. captured thorn

17. in the end, i was my own downfall

18. shadow song

19. through the veil and back again

20. wixen society

21. an eternity (playing on a loop)

22. tell me your sins… (cont. w long title)

23. 100 ways to say i love you

24. blood soaked pennies (cont. w long title)

25. to become death

26. devil’s game (AKA tom the ripper)

27. vendetta

28. loved you ‘til you’re dead

29. a war of wars

30. becoming crowley

31. when the lights are out

32. poisoned flowers and guilty pleasures

33. in amongst the stars (you are not what you say you are)

34. in the beginning, bonky said:

35. only one survives (because everyone dies)

36. kissing a stranger (and other bad mistakes)

37. thin ice cracks easily

38. i brought you life and tasted ash

39. a hallow’s eve ball (a fairy tale romcom)

40. the fiendfyre lord

41. touch of death

42. icarus, icarus, where do you fall?

43. i thought you were a psycho

44. if i got rid of my demons i would lose my angels

45. i dream of you (dancing with me)

46. aziraphale’s adventures in not selling books

47. cocaine and cigarettes

48. crossed your mind (like a bullet)

49. in between the papers and the exams

50. i didn’t see you there

51. rebound

52. why do you only call me when you’re high?

53. through a sheen of tears

54. somebody that i used to know

55. i thought i’d lost you (before i got to apologise)

56. i found you (please hear me out)

57. pressurise the pain

58. win or lose, baby

59. love the stars (love me too)

i’m not fucking close to being done but i am tired so. we’ll leave it there

@callmelyrae @whotooklortan @etherfalling @trashforao3 @accidentally-overcuccoed @duplicitywrites @tomarryherewewhoaagain @itsevanffs have fun

#tag game #this is hell

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ran-orimoto · 2 years

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Detective Junpei Shibayama season 30+ deals with terrible cases about various disappearances, from plushies to school tests. However, the most difficult case rotates around bars of chocolate that have been fading for months, if not a year.

Let’s say our hot boiled detective loves solving cases, but his main opera singer career doesn’t make him complain when cases solve on themselves🤣🤣.

…

Very random sketchdump about freaking chocolate I’ve been sketching for weeks, even before the italian literature exam. Now Anon is away I feel a bit more comfortable about sharing my trash here🤣🤣🤣. And, like always, thank you a lot for your love to the babies and Junzumi💕! I’m glad to give this world stupid Junzuminess💕.

#junzumi #junpei shibayama #izumi orimoto #digimon frontier #blitzmon #hehe I had fun with this a lot XDDDDDD #random and warped reference to Pinocchio because Kou is a huge B4stard #at the end I’ve decides Koka Blitzmon just won’t part from the scarves Junpei has given him #even when he has to sleep ahahah #izumi #junpei #kou #toto #zura’s sketches

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skyeventide · 2 years

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goethe starts writing Faust around 1773 at the same time at his Werther, starting from the "bleak day" scene which is the dramatic core around which the rest of the tragedy develops, and which sets the themes of the abandoned girl who drowns her baby and is now imprisoned. it's written entirely in prose. he continues this work when he relocates to Weimar, composing the first version of the tragedy afterwards known as Urfaust, never published during his lifetime. the Urfaust is only rediscovered in the late 19th century, through a copy preserved by a lady-in-waiting.

the Urfaust is missing some of the main nodes of the story: there is no pact between the devil and Faust, there is no Walpurgisnacht, no scene of the rejuvenation of Faust, nor Wald und Höhle, one of the most lyrical scenes of the first part of the poem, and there is no scene where Faust kills the abandoned girl's brother. it's only after 1788, during Goethe's trip to Italy, that he adds some of these crucial passages (the rejuvenation, the lyrics, and a considerable rework of a farcical scene in a tavern). he publishes this version as Ein Fragment, in 1790, where however he removes some of the final sections that were on the other hand present in the unpublished Urfaust. the bleak day scene and the final jail scene are removed, eschewing the true heart of the tragedy.

only after 1794, after becoming friends with Schiller who keeps nagging him, does he continue working on the story. so from 1797 he adds the dedication, the prologue in a theatre, a meta scene on the dramatic arts, and the prologue in heaven, where the devil and God strike up a bet of their own about Faust's final fate. he continues with adding more scenes around the main plot and only leaves out a satire of academia. finally there's Walpurgisnacht, the murder of the brother, and most importantly, the deal/bet with the devil. in 1805 Schiller dies, Goethe convinces himself to publish a new edition of his works, and in 1808 comes out the first part of the tragedy. all scenes have been rewritten in poetry and the black day scene is the only one surviving in its original prose form. in this time, Goethe also sketches down the 3rd and 5th acts of the second part.

it isn't until 1816, eleven years later, when Goethe is working on a biography and has to write down how Faust came to be, that he goes back to the notes on the poem and tries to put down a scheme of how the second part was meant to happen. there's existing notes that maintain the dramatic structure of the first part, and the conflict between Faust and Mephistopheles and their bet as its core, but these notes are scrapped. in 1825 Goethe returns to his life's work and reworks it allegorically. he changes up some things about the invocation of Helen of Troy, who no longer appears in modern Germany; rather, it's Faust who seeks her in Greece. in 1826 the 3rd act is finished and the Helen fragment is published separately.

at this point Goethe considers finishing the poem his only remaining goal and works on it until the very last day of his life. he finishes the 5th act and writes the 4th last, then seals up the manuscript, and reopens it a few days before death to change up a few sentences. the second part of the tragedy is published posthumously in 1832, the same year as his death.

I made this write up to see if I could remember the whole deal for an exam tomorrow, thanks for your attention.

#Goethe #Faust

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artinandwritin · 2 years

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I know I JUST asked you about your ocs, but I've gotta know more so here we are lol

If you have this stuff worked out already, can you tell me about Niv's time growing up as an assassin and Siri and Gustav's adventures as part of the A team???

ALSO do you have any sketches of them ?????

I'm sorry if this is annoying or you don't wanna talk about this rn or whatever I just really enjoyed reading your answer to my last ask and I wanted to know more <3

Omg y e s and I'm ready to tell you more lol

I actually do have both things worked out already so that's a great question to ask! Lemme just pull up my documents and get started :D

I'll devide this in a few parts, so it won't get confusing! Get ready cuz I have the tendencies to overwrite lmao-

Niv's time growing up as an assassin;

Alright *cracks knuckles* let's do this. Niv was, after having been discovered on a little burning ship by a young member of the Myriad Tribe as he was sailing home, was adopted by this same sailor. His name was Bendik Forrad; he was married to a woman named Darcy. They didn't have children yet, but both were content to raise this baby boy to be an assassin.

The Myriad Tribe had many children as many couples took in "lost" kids like Niv, so the boy had many friends to play with. The adults were often given assignments by faceless clients, never getting to know their identity as a way to keep both parties safe. Mainly Bendik, who had a very high ranking as an assassin, was away from home often. His assignments left him mentally scarred; he had seen too much.

After Niv turned two, the couple had a child of their own, Amanda. She got along great with her adoptive brother, never even noticing they weren't biologically related until Bendik told her - after that, Niv's seemingly perfect family seemed to fade.

The boy and his friends started training with weapons and studying histories and fighting techniques from a very early age. While Niv seemed to excel at swordfighting, he fell short in remembering techniques, instead developing his own style entirely. He could remember the history lessons, but he wasn't as interested in that, instead wanting to know more about folklore and myths about Dragons.

Bendik wasn't into that; he began scolding poor Niv, more and more often telling him he should be happy someone even found him in that burning boat. The assignments and killing got to his head; the effects of that were for Niv to deal with.

He did have a few friends, tho. A boy named Klaus, a tall dreamer, was his bestie, and rounding up the gang were the fierce Magni, and the sassy Olga. They grew up together; mainly Klaus knew about Niv's home situation and always tried to cheer him up.

They had a dream, the two of them. To escape the Myriad Tribe and it's gruesome classes, and sail into the world. Find the hidden mythologies, visit places they had only heard the names of. Niv added to that his own personal goal of wanting to find his birth family - the only thing he had left of them was a small bracelet with his name engraved in it. Klaus told him they would find them together, brown eyes brighter than any.

Over the years, Niv slowly developed a crush on his friend. Olga knew of it, of course. Magni, slower on the uptake, didn't truly understand how love worked. He didn't need it to become the best fighter in the tribe, after all. Niv and Olga just laughed it off, amused by their friend's mind.

The Myriad Tribe was strange in its ways. Every year again, a festival was organised, in which the current class of 13-14 year olds would be given their last exam before they would continue their studies on a higher level. It was arranged by their Chief, the strongest of all, and was different each and every year.

Just before their year would be doing their exams, Klaus decided he would run away. He asked Niv to come with him, bright, excited. Niv agreed; together, they would chase stars, would become comets. Klaus kissed his cheek as they went their separate ways to pack up their things.

However, they were caught. Bendik and the Chief had discovered their little boat, had set it on fire. As if he couldn't be even more ruthless, Bendik threw his adoptive son in prison to make him think about his actions, no matter how much Niv, or even Darcy and Amanda, begged. Klaus was dragged away, kicking his legs and screaming.

After having gone through such a brutal thing at such a tender age, Niv cried and cried in his prison. When the morning of the exams arrived, he was pulled out of prison again, broken, numb. He and the other students were blindfolded as they were brought to the other side of the island, where the festival had been happening all those years.

Cheering. Screaming. One by one, students were taken away. Niv couldn't see their faces, sitting on a bench next to who he thought was Magni. His hands were shaking as the rumbling voices of excited assassins attacked his ears.

He was pulled up by the shoulder, rough hands pushing him forward. An eternity later, the blindfold was ripped from his head - his heart stopped.

The bodies of his peers, splattered across the floor. Six, seven, maybe. The blood made him hurl, his stomach turning in protest. As he looked up, he saw Bendik, sitting on a bench outside the arena with the sickest of grins on his face.

Then, the door on the other side of the arena opened. Klaus, beaten blue, was pushed in, his breathing heavy. Just as Niv wanted to rush to him, to help him, the Chief raised his voice and explained the exam.

A duel.

To the death.

Niv couldn't breath anymore.

A sword was pushed in his hands; his ears rang as his legs trembled. Klaus pushed himself off the ground, his eyes scanning his surroundings, before resting on Niv.

Silence. Neither wanted to attack the other, it wasn't right. Society pushed them to be against each other, to fight for the right to live. A hard truth, but that didn't make it any less real. Klaus was the first to realise they couldn't both make it out alive.

So... he gave himself up. Rules said Niv would fail too if he didn't deliver the final blow himself, so he didn't have much of a choice.

Chase the stars for me, Klaus begged, become a comet for me.

And that was it. Another innocent dreamer lost to society.

The next weeks were a disaster for Niv; he couldn't eat, speak. Breathing hurt his heart. Seeing Magni and Olga, both having barely survived, made him feel numb. Even when Bendik decided his adoptive son was back in his good graces, Niv couldn't feel the joy of that.

He grew lonely, angry. Why did this happen? There was no good explanation for it, no reason. It shouldn't have been this way. He should've been with his parents, with Klaus, already.

They should've been among the stars by now.

Over the next few months, Niv slowly cleared his mind, but he wasn't happy. He wanted to get away from there, be anywhere but in the Myriad Tribe.

That was when a mysterious woman named Solveig showed up on the island. She recognised Niv; told him she knew his parents. Wanted to take him home with her.

Niv was hesitant at first, but was quick to warm up to Solveig. They would go away together, and soon. He wanted to meet the people he was told loved him more than the sun, the moon, and the stars combined.

However, they were caught again. Thrown into the same prison Niv had been in before, much to his horror. Solveig assured him it would be alright, she had been in worse situations before. She was right; they were rescued by another assassin, named Nabira.

This time, all went according to plan. The trio could sail away, towards the rising sun, homewards, finally.

Reuniting with his family was even more emotional than Niv had thought before. His mother cried his heart out as she hugged him to her chest; his father, looking so much like himself, couldn't even speak anymore, which, according to Solveig, was unusual.

Niv could leave the Myriad Tribe behind him at last.

He had finally chased the stars.

Siri and Gustav's A-Team adventures;

Let's make the switch from Niv's sad story to something a bit more fun! (ngl this too will turn dark very quickly lmao, I promise they do have fun adventures, but I haven't worked all of that out.)

Most of Siri and Gustav's A-Team adventures are set after HTTYD2, aka after most of the older members would've left the Auxiliary due to other duties and responsibilities. This would leave two awkward kids in charge, we wouldn't want that, now would we?

However, still seeing the need for a back-up team, Astrid asked the young Captain and Siri, now sixteen (Siri) and eighteen (Gustav) years old respectively, to find new members to support them.

Among those applying for a position was a young man named Ludvig, a newcomer on Berk, having recently gotten stranded on the shores. However, he wasn’t the only one – Adelaide Jorgenson, Snotlout's younger sister, applied as well.

However, Adelaide seemed a bit wary of Ludvig. She recognised him from somewhere, somehow. It was probably nothing and instead of worrying, she told Siri about all her adventures in the wild, as she had spend a few years traveling with her Typhoomerang, Squeaky. She had ran into different tribes, had explored new cultures and even had an encounter with an assassin while staying in the Haffing Tribe – the only thing she could remember about him was a strange tattoo on his wrist, in the form of a sword. Siri adored the stories, listening to every single one with a smile on her face.

Once the new A-Team was realised and Ludvig had bonded with a Death Song, Roar, Astrid and Hiccup decided it would be good for them to spend a few months on the Edge to bond as a group – Gustav saw it as a rite of passage for some reason, which Siri didn’t exactly agree with, but she liked the way he saw it. However, it was the perfect way to escape from her father’s wishes, so she was more than excited to leave Berk.

They left for the Edge, where, after settling in and having a few debates over huts, if Gustav or Adelaide should take leadership, and food, they started exploring the area. Adelaide, already familiar with the world, took them to the Hafport Island, home of the Haffing Tribe, where the Riders met a young woman named Unnyr Litt, the daughter of the current Chief and leader of the Hafport Valkyries. She was kind, having clearly been friends with Adelaide for a while, seeing by the way she let the girl and her friends in without question.

Gustav immediately took a liking to the warrior, blushing whenever she spoke to him. While a bit upset by this for reasons she couldn't fully explain, Siri supported him fully, cheering him on whenever he tried to flirt with Unnyr, despite Adelaide laughing at him. Unnyr, clearly unaware of his intentions, thought Gustav was just trying to be friendly, which she appreciated greatly, kindly returning his affections.

Unnyr showed the Riders around the village, where Siri was enthralled by the island’s Academy. Many young children were learning how to write, about history, and basic skills – she visited it a few times on her own to watch the teachings.

The Riders got to meet the Chief of the Haffing Tribe, Ivar Litt, Unnyr’s father. Siri and Ludvig discovered the Chief was hiding an oncoming war against a rivalling tribe, the Lichting Tribe and that the assassin Adelaide had spoken about had come from them. Ivar asked them to help; Hafport Island hadn’t been able to train Dragons like Berk and he felt useless against the large warships and domesticated Dragons of the Lichting Tribe.

Not knowing how to respond, Siri told Ivar that they needed to discuss that with their own Chief as she wasn’t sure he wanted to involve Berk in another war – however, Ludvig interrupted her and told Ivar that he would have the Auxiliary Team behind him.

When Siri confronted him about this later, Ludvig told her he could not bear to watch the Chief look so broken, so worn out. He was sorry for not discussing it with anyone, but wouldn’t Siri have done the same? Wouldn’t she have helped an old man in need, a tribe under the threat of war? Siri couldn’t say no to that, and Ludvig told her he felt the same way, so she should just keep quiet about him agreeing to Ivar’s request.

A few days later, it was decided a request for peace would be send out. Ivar, Unnyr, her most trusted Valkyrie, Catherina, and the Auxiliary Team would send out to the Lichting Tribe to discuss the subject. Gustav, still captivated by Unnyr, still tried everything to get in her good graces – which seemed to be working. It saddened Siri, but Ludvig told her to not mind the Captain’s behaviour. There was more in the world for her, after all.

Ludvig seemed to be flirting with Siri – Adelaide got concerned about her friend’s feelings in all of this. She asked Siri to keep her distance from her teammate, seeing as she still didn’t trust him completely. However, Ludvig, afterwards, told her not to listen to Adelaide, she didn’t know him.

The group arrived at the Lichting Tribe, where they were greeted by Varg Ketelsen, the Chief. He had a strange glance in his eyes, his gaze wandering over the young Auxiliary Team like they were prey. When his eyes rested on Ludvig, Adelaide got even more suspicious. She needed to gain information about this man, this wasn’t okay anymore.

Varg invited them for dinner – an awkward encounter, at which Ludvig seemingly pushed himself into the background, observing the room as if he was a soldier at war. Adelaide noticed and afterwards, she pulled Siri aside to talk to her about her concerns. Siri tried to assure her that it was all okay, maybe Ludvig was just nervous being around new people, but Adelaide insisted. There was something wrong with him.

Days went on; the A-Team, Unnyr and Catherina were invited to join in festivals and games, a jolly atmosphere lingering all over the village. The Lichting Tribe seemed genuinely happy to put all the years of rivalry aside and start anew. Ivar started to laugh more as well, the weariness lifting from his face. He seemed more at peace now the conflict was put to a rest, at which Unnyr was very happy. She had her father back.

That was, until Ivar Litt, the Chief of the Haffing Tribe, was murdered in his sleep. Unnyr found him in the hut they had been given after returning from a celebration at the pyres and she was devastated, running back to the pyres and blaming the Lichting Tribe. Catherina had to hold her back – Gustav and Adelaide rushed to get Varg Ketelsen.

Siri, being left alone, noticed someone was missing. Ludvig was nowhere to be found, so while Varg tried to calm the masses down, Siri sneaked away to find her teammate.

After she and Funnet had searched half the village, they eventually found Ludvig on the beach. He was washing out his clothes in the sea; underneath him pooled a puddle of watered out blood. Siri, suddenly afraid Adelaide had been right, asked him what he was doing, and the crazed look in his eyes when he turned to face her made her heart stop.

He calmly explained to her that he had killed the Chief – he, Ludvig Forrad, had killed the Haffing Chief in cold blood. Why? Why, that’s what they all ask. For money of course, for the Myriad Tribe, he explained as he washed the dried out blood from his fingers. Siri suddenly noticed the tattoo on his wrist. She wanted to throw up when she realised Ludvig was the assassin from Adelaide’s stories.

Fear rising, Siri wanted to run away, but Ludvig was too quick, snatching her wrist. Just before he put his hand over her mouth, she yelled at Funnet to go – Ludvig just chuckled, telling her she wouldn’t be able to tell anyone if she was dead.

A pity, he told her as Funnet flew away, she could’ve fallen for him. Not that he would’ve cared, he only flirted with her to keep himself in her good graces so she wouldn’t tell on him to Adelaide, or worse, their idiotic Captain. He laughed at her team, called them useless, second-graded underlings. Siri tried to escape, the panic troubling her mind. Eventually, she succeeded in getting out of his grasp after hitting his nose with her head, quickly attempting to run away.

Ludvig catched her again – a cat and mouse game, seemingly never ending. He had her at the throat, knife in his hand, when someone called Siri’s name. Gustav and Adelaide came flying to them with Funnet and Ludvig, his eyes widening, realised he couldn’t go up against so many people.

Instead, as a disguise for his deeds, he quickly leaned in and kissed poor Siri. When the Riders jumped off their Dragons, he complained that they were having a moment, Siri needed to be consoled after having gone looking at Ivar’s corpse.

Siri, however, pushed him away, trembling, sobs choking in her throat – Gustav rushed to his friend, pulling her away from Ludvig as Adelaide grabbed her knife. She accused Ludvig of killing Ivar and Ludvig denied everything. He instead told them that he and Siri went to look at the body, see if there were any clues as to who did it. His clothes got bloody during that, he needed to wash them and Siri was hysterical after seeing the body, so they went here.

Clutching herself onto her confused best friend, Siri shook her head, not able to bring out anything else. Ludvig sighed, wanting to take her over from Gustav to calm her down, she would appreciate that more – Gustav, still in shock, just pulled his friend closer, shielding her from his teammate, telling him to back off. Fanghook and Funnet got between them, forcing Ludvig backwards.

Adelaide suddenly noticed the tattoo as well and realisation hit. Ludvig was the assassin she had encountered before, send by Varg Ketelsen. By the Gods, she realised, they needed to get out of here. She asked Siri to tell her what had happened – Siri told her everything, finally speaking up for herself. Quickly taking over leadership from her Captain, Adelaide ordered Squeaky to grab Ludvig. The young man tried to run away, but the Typhoomerang was quick enough.

The Riders flew back to the village, where things got heated between Unnyr, Catherina and the Lichting Tribe. Varg, in the background, just watched it with a grin. Funnet, now with no-one on her back as Siri was still shaking, sitting behind Gustav on Fanghook, rushed down to grab the girls, pulling her up.

Soon, the group was back on Hafport Island, where Unnyr was forced to take over leadership on the same day her father was murdered. Keeping her head cool, seeing the escalating threat on the horizon, seeing as Varg made sure Unnyr would blame the Lichting Tribe for the murder which would lead to a war between their people, Unnyr ordered everyone to ready the weapons and to get the children out of village. She sentenced Ludvig to death at dawn; the young man kept his head up as he glared at the Riders and new Chieftess.

Preparations were made – Adelaide visited Ludvig one last time, asking her to explain himself. It turned out he was an assassin from the Myriad Tribe, who worked in secret and got jobs from people all around the archipelago. He had been ordered to kill Ivar Litt while he resided on the Island of the Lighting Tribe and had just fulfilled his task.

Adelaide called him sick and told him she was glad he would be executed in the morning. Ludvig didn’t respond – Adelaide walked out of the prisons at this, fuming with anger.

Meanwhile, Gustav was helping Siri wash the dried up blood Ludvig had left on her from her arms. She was quiet, shaken by everything that had happened, regretting ever trusting such a boy. She must’ve been stupid for not seeing the signs. Gustav countered that, saying he didn’t notice anything either. This was no-one’s fault, according to him, and she wasn’t wrong for giving Ludvig a chance. And that he used her, chased her and hurt her, wasn’t her fault either.

Siri leaned against him, quiet sobs overtaking her as the two friends tried to make sense of the entire situation, silently preparing themselves for the oncoming battle the Haffing Tribe would have to fight.

The next morning, Ludvig was killed in front of the entire village, his body ripped open for all to see – Siri had to turn her eyes away as Unnyr ripped the dagger from his neck, all the way down to his stomach. Soon after that, the Lichting troops arrived.

A battle happened, many were lost, many gained scars. Unnyr managed to kill Varg Ketelsen in a call for revenge, gaining control over the Lichting Tribe as by their law, the murderer of the current Chief would be the next leader. The Dragon Riders warded off the ships with their Dragons, working together as a true team.

Soon, peace returned, despite how many buildings needed to be rebuild. Unnyr was able to explain the situation to the Lichting Tribe’s council and they promised they would work together to find a suitable way of working together, to which Unnyr agreed.

Finally having time to grief, Ivar Litt was given his final farewell, after which life went on. The Riders returned to the Edge – Gustav was promptly blasted into reality after asking Unnyr if they could continue dating from a distance, to which Unnyr was confused and told him she already had a girlfriend, Catherina – where they packed up their things and travelled back to Berk.

Sketches and other things;

I actually do have a lot of sketches and drawings for my ocs! However, since this answer is getting really long (fr I love to infodump about my ocs sm) I'll be putting those in a seperate post and if you want to, I can tag you in it! :D

On other notes, one thing I'd love to point out is Bendik and Ludvig Forrad's relationship. Ludvig is Bendik's younger brother and after his death, Bendik pushed himself even more, why, he didn't know. To avenge his baby brother? To make sure he himself wouldn't be killed? This man is a mystery, but this would explain his actions a bit.

Anyways, I loved your ask!! It's never annoying to get asked to talk about my ocs omg, so no worries! I had sm fun writing this all down and I love that you're so invested in their stories!! It really warms my heart to see that! (Fr when I saw the tags you wrote at the other ask I audibly squealed) <333

#httyd #oc #how to train your dragon #httyd oc #how to train your dragon oc #how to train a dragon 2 #hiccup #astrid hofferson #how to train your dragon the hidden world #race to the edge #rtte #thanks for the ask!#siri vínteri #gustav larson #artinandwritin's lore

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realtalk-princeton · 9 months

Note

bse cos frosh: is MAT203 and PHY105 doable? I'm interested in math and took multi last year so I def want to take 203, but I'm not convinced about physics. I took ap physics c last year, but didnt take the exam (prob would have got 5). I'm a little sketched out by the phy103 course evals. I'd rather put in a little extra work to understand the material, but if 105 is much harder, then maybe not. thx

Response from Heisenberg:

203 is much harder than 201, and 105 is much much harder than 103. I would estimate around 40-50% of frosh taking MAT 201 in the fall semester have taken multi in high school and the course is still difficult af for some of them. I also know a lot of physics majors who thought AP Physics C: Mech was baby food and then drowned in 105, even dropping to PHY 104 in the following semester instead of continuing with 106.

Now, you can def start off in 203/105. I would actually probably recommend this. But be extra cautious if you feel like the courses begin to creep above your comfort zone since they will strictly get harder after shopping period. I was also in a similar boat as you in terms of wanting to learn more, so I took 204/106. It's funny because I remember asking RTP (before I was a contributor) and the Physics Dept Discord for advice on whether to take 204/106 or not. I think they both said for me to chill and not take 204/106. I went against their advice anyway. 204 was okay, maybe even enjoyable at times, but 106 was not and it did not provide me the extra illumination that I had hoped it would have. 204 is actually pretty useful and relevant for the COS major but 203 not so much if at all. PHY 103/104 are basically just mental exercises for BSE COS, so there's no point in taking 105/106 unless you want to have significantly less time on your hands for a slight increase in understanding of the physics relative to 103/104.

Tbh, I think college will be a lot more enjoyable for you if you took 201/103, and then maybe 204 in the spring, especially since you're COS. This sequence will be easier, so you'll have more time on your hands to understand the material (and the material of your other classes as well since you'll have more time) at a way deeper level (which is better than having just a general understanding of the more advanced material), have more time to spend with friends, have more time to work on side-projects, and overall just have less stress. The single disadvantage is that you won't learn some of the more intricate nuances in PHY and theorems in MAT, which most people forget about anyway after 2-3 semesters.

If you really wanted to, you could take MAT 203 over MAT 201. However, I would not recommend 105/106 over 103/104 in any circumstance.

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extravaguk · 3 years

Text

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

wordcount: 15k

genre: summer!au, ex high school classmaters, kinda frenemies to lovers, tattoo artist!&piercing artist!jungkook, popular!reader

rated: m (fluff - smut - angst)

warnings: you broke jungkook's heart you bitch!! , oral sex (m&f), protected sex (shocking tbh), CL as your bestie it doesnt get better than that! idk i dont wanna spoil too much

author's note: fucking finally dude!! i've been writing this since february but school was kicking my ass. now that i finished my exams and mercury is in gemini i was able to finish it. if you read this, i hope you enjoy it!

Inkphoria

You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping the flyer too tightly, rumpling the paper in your hand until you're pretty much sure it's ruined. It's the first day of June, and it's already too hot. The sun and humid weather are causing beads of sweat to form in your hairline and your white tank top to stick to your skin. Your jean shorts didn't feel this uncomfortable a few hours ago and you're sure the heat is causing your mascara to transfer to your eyelids and lower lashline. You've never needed a slushie and a smoke this bad in forever, even if you knew the later would make your parents lose their shit.

Inkphoria

You read it again. Your brain is trying to guess what font its written in, an excuse to try to steady your heart beat until your nerves ease a little and you can finally gather the courage to step into the damn shop. You've noticed a few people passing by giving you strange looks because maybe it hasn't been fifteen minutes. Perhaps you've been unmoving like an idiot in the middle of the street for longer than you want to admit.

Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.

'Its not that much of a big deal. It's not even that painful, trust me.'

You wish you could trust your best friend, but your best friend is also the same woman who assured you Cats was the movie of the year. Yes, not 'Cats: The Musical'. 'Cats', the movie.

'And this could be a great start to get out of your comfort zone and start living your life exactly the way you want to, not the way people expect you to. Not the way your family wants you to, not the way Adam wanted you to.'

But although her credibility could sometimes be questionable - like that time she also told you she'd tried marmite and 'honestly, it's not as bad as people make it out to be'-, you also didn't trust anybody in this world as much as you trusted her. She had always been your entire support system, the only one around you who never sugarcoated, who always treated you as an equal, who was always there for you to help you discover yourself and, at the same time, remind you of who you were.

'And it's gonna look so hot, too.'

That's it. Sticking the wrinkled flyer on your back pocket, your feet finally start moving. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing open the door.

The first thing you notice is that, thankfully, the shop is empty. The second thing you notice is the bright sky blue walls, a green undertone peaking through. Your eyes scan nervously the interior. Frames with tattoo designs and people modeling other different designs decorate the walls, some skateboards also hanging from the ceiling. A few plants in the corner, and two leather couches on either side of the room. Your scanning stops on the counter, where a girl with short, platinium hair and -what you guess is- the eighty percent of her body inked. Face included. She's been looking at you, a smirk tugging at her lips. Her tone is amused when she speaks

"Hi." she says. "You can come closer, you know? We don't bite."

Great. As if you couldn't feel more out of place, apparently you also couldn't look more out of place.

"Sorry." you gulp as you walk forward. "It's my first time doing anything like this."

She laughs this time, but it's not mean. It's not mocking, thank God, and the smile she sends you is as warm as the weather, friendly, luckily helping you calm down a bit. "A virgin, huh? JK's gonna love this." your eyes jump in surprise, but she's fast to wave her hands in front of you. "Just a joke. So, first time getting a tattoo. You have something in mind, honey?"

"Um, no. Not a tattoo. Not yet, I think." you wet your lips, regretting not reaplying chapstick before stepping inside. "A piercing."

"Oh! Cool!" she claps her hands, too excited for your own taste, pulling from under the counter a catalogue. "So, where will it be? Cartilogue? Nose? A lot of people are getting their septums pierced right now, though, so you might-"

"Nipples. Like, one of them."

Her gaze finds yours in surprise, although her face swiftly transforms again into an amiable expression. "Now, that's badass. Alright!" she skims through the pages of the catalogue until she finds the nipple piercing collection. You scratch your head before wiping your forehead sweat-free. "You can pick either barbells or hoops, although barbells heal faster and they don't move around as much. There's different kinds of metal, too. Gold or platinium. If your skin is sensitive, I recommend titanium. It's hypoallergenic and not as problematic."

The blonde keeps talking as you nod your head, a smile making its way into your face while silently thanking her for her easygoing personality. It quickly makes you feel comfortable and stupid for being so terrified of doing this.

Once you decide, settle on the cost and sign the papers, she stands up from the stool she'd been sitting on. "Ok, I'll go tell my coworker. He's been sketching tattoos all morning, it's time he gets to work!" she laughs, but suddenly your smile banishes and your throat shuts down.

"He?" your alarmed tone halts her motions and she looks back at your frightened expression.

He? A he is going to pierce your nipple? You're about to let a random stranger, a HE, see and touch one of your boobs and then pierce a needle through one of your nipples?

"Oh, baby, don't worry. I'd do it myself if I knew how to, but I only do tattoos. Most of our staff are on summer vacation so it's mostly just him and I. If you don't feel comfortable, which is totally understandable, you can wait until september when Minzy comes back and she can do it for you." It's her turn to scratch the back of her head as she adds: "but trust me, we're professionals. He's not a creep or anything like that. He's been doing this for a long time. He won't cross any boundaries."

September? You won't even be here in september. Fuck.

Sure, you could do it when you move back into the city. But this summer was supossed to be the summer. You already decided after your breakup with Adam that there would be no trace of the old you. That it was time to push yourself, to do the things that you've always wanted to do, unapologetically. To find the new you, the real you. To stop being scared.

So after going through you options for a few seconds and taking a deep breath, you make up your mind.

"It's fine. I can do it."

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"JK, sweetheart!"

Jungkook is finishing drawing a Chinese dragon when Mijoo opens the door without knocking. Again. He puts the pen down, rubbing his eyes. It's monday, a slow monday, not much work, and he had hoped it would stay that way until closing time. It's summer and Jungkook hates summer. He hates the heat, he hates being drenched in sweat, and he hates the fact that he can do nothing about it. Because working in the summer is terrible. Summer makes him lazy, makes him want to bathe in a tub full of iced water and not get out until he turns into a raisin and october comes. It makes him irritable. Summer makes him annoyed by people -like Mijoo, even if he loves her to death- and himself.

"I got a girl here who wants a nipple piercing, her first piercing by the way, so get your shit ready and bla bla bla. Straight titanium barbell. Also, don't flirt and don't be creepy. She almost ran away when I told her a male was going to be touching and piercing her tit, be mindful of that. She's too cute, if you want to get her number you should wait until it's done. I think that's it. I'll bring her in in a minute."

Mijoo leaves as fast as she talks, but Jungkook is already used to it. He's already used to the headaches her mouth causes too. He sighs before standing up, tying his too-long raven hair into the best bun he can manage. He washes his hands, sets the table up, sits on the chair and puts the gloves on. He's too busy sterilizing the jewerly when Mijoo comes back with you.

"Alright, my babies. I'll leave you to it." she turns to you. "He'll explain everything, from how the process will be to how to take care of it after it's done." she leaves before saying bye, closing the door behind her, and then he finally turns to you.

Your eyes meet and suddenly everything stops. He almost drops the sterilizing machine, his whole body tensing, going into panic mode as he recognizes you immediatly. His hands shake.

Of course he does. Of course he recognizes his high school crush. The too goody two shoes, too pretentious and too rich, too good for everybody and, most importantly, 'too good for Jeon Jungkook' girl of his high school dreams. Of course he recognizes the girl he had confessed his stupid crush to when he was sixteen. Of course he recognizes the girl who rejected and broke his young and foolish heart when he was a dumb teenager.

It doesn't matter that six years have passed ever since. He still knows every lock of your hair like the palm of his hand. He still remembers the shape of your lips and the exact shade of your eyes. He can still identify the body he fantasized about -and jacked off to- when he was a hormonal teen, now filled in all the right places. Now a grown woman.

Just one look at you after years and years of pining is enough to almost make him faint. And grow a boner under his jeans.

And by the look on your face, your eyes wide and your mouth agape, you recognize him as well.

Dammit.

He schools his features and clears his throat. Forces his body to relax and compose himself, because he's not a teenager anymore. He's also a grown man, who has matured, who now has much more experience with women than he did back then. He had already embarrased himself enough when he was sixteen to be doing it all over again. You're just another attractive girl in a sea of attractive women.

He turns to you. You still haven't said anything. Neither has he.

"Um, you can sit on the table." he manages, motioning to the set up in front of him. He watches you taking doubtful steps until you're sitting down, your eyes avoiding his gaze. He almost forgot you were here to get pierced. Holy shit, you were here to get pierced. To get your nipple pierced.

You're a professional, Jungkook. You can do this, Jungkook. You've seen boobs before, Jungkook. You've pierced nipples before, Jungkook.

Clearing his throat again and forcing his hands to stay by his side, he speaks. "The... The top." your gaze finds his, like a puppy about to get scolded. You look at your top, realization dawning on you. "You don't have to take it off. You can just pull it down."

So you do, pulling the straps of the white tank top down and dragging the fabric down with trembling fingers. No bra. Jungkook gulps as your breasts comes into vision. As perfect as he had imagined years ago. His cock twitches. Round, full, perky and so damn inviting he has to hold himself back from latching onto one nipple with his mouth around it and swirling his tongue over the nub until you're a pretty, moaning, little mess on his piercing tabl-

He closes his eyes for just a second before reminding himself to act like the 23 year old Jungkook he's tried so hard to become. The confident, assured Jungkook he is.

"Okay, this is how it'll go. First I'll clean it and scrub it to get rid of any bacteria." he's so glad he hasn't stuttered yet. 23 year old Jungkook doesn't stutter like 17 year old Jungkook. He's also glad he can pick the alcohol bottle and the surgical scrub without trembling. When he faces you again, you're watching his motions with your lip caught between your teeth. That has him swallowing the lump in his throat.

Making eye contact with him again, you take a deep breath and offer a small nod, so he gets to work. He can show you and himself he's a grown man. A grown man who can pierce a nipple without appearing like it's the first time he's seen a boob in his life. The sooner he does it, the sooner it's over.

Jungkook wets the paper towel with alcohol before carefully wiping over your nub with it. Your back arches, probably from the cold feeling, he guesses. He rubs it a few times before throwing it in the trash can nearby. He avoids looking at how enticing the soft peak is salluting him when he reaches for the marker. He doesn't say anything when he dots it with it, jaw clenched and his dick painfully stiff.

"Lay back." his voice low as he commands, turning away to get the clamp. When he slides closer, he tries to ignore the view: you, with your hair sprawled and your sweaty, shiny skin and your eyes focused on the cieling, nipple fully erect, like the star of one of his most erotic dreams. He extends his free gloved hand before he can stop himself, fingers carefully working the nub until he's sure it's painfully hard. Almost as hard as he is.

You gasp, your back arching again. He stills and looks at you, your cheeks flushed pink. Probably from the heat, he guesses again. Or at least that's what he tells himself. He can't stop himself from wondering how responsive would you be in a different setting, most likely his bed while his teeth play with your breast and his cock dives into-

"You okay?" he studies your face, your eyes not meeting his and instead still focusing on the white ceiling.

"Mhm." you reply with a small voice.

"Relax, alright? It'll be over soon." his voice is as gentle as he can, his fingers mindlessly caressing your breast to try to soothe your nerves. Or maybe it's just because he's a selfish bastard. Whatever it is, he forces himself to bring the clamp to your nipple, securing it around it.

"Take a few deep breaths. This will only take a second of pain and then it will go away." He misses the way your mouth falls open, but he doesn't miss the way your eyes squeeze tight as the needle goes in.

"Ah!" he definitely doesn't miss that either. He goes rigid for a second, because that didn't fucking sound like a cry of painfulness. It's breathy, and whiny, not too loud and, for fucks sake, if that's how you sound when you're getting fucked, he swears to God-

He feels your heartbeat under his hands when he puts the barbell in and then the bandage over it. He takes a look at you, chest moving up and down. And then you take a look at him and what he sees is almost enough to take you right there.

Reddened cheeks, drops of sweat framing your face and those eyes glazed with something he's seen too much in the women he's fucked throughout his life. They're half lidded, mascara adorning your long lashes and almost smudged, looking right through him.

"Jungkook..." and your voice, as you say his name -acknowledging him for the first time since you stepped into his shop, for the first time since you were sixteen-, it's hoarse, almost inaudible, like you just came all over his-

He's on his feet in an instant like he's been burned. "It may bleed for the first week, and it can be really sore. The swelling will eventually come down." he's quickly tidying up the table, a bottle in his hand that he hands to you without looking directly. "Wash it gently with this soap and warm water once per day. Don't touch it. Wear a comfortable...bra. If it gets crusty, clean it with saline. Not alcohol or any other thing you might clean a wound with. The soap I just gave you or saline. Nothing else."

He's pacing around the room as he takes his gloves off and throws them in the trash bin, too agressively maybe, then he keeps rambling, like he's hurriedly trying to make you leave as soon as possible. "Avoid pools and the sea. It takes about six months to a year to heal, so don't... don't touch it, don't play with it or..." he clears his throat, "don't let anyone else play with it. And if it gets infected, come back immediately and I'll take a look at it." which he honestly hopes it won't happen. When he faces you, your top is back on and you're getting off the table.

"Alright, um...I'll do that." clearing your throat, your hand gripping the doorknob. "Thank you."

But right before you can exit the room, Jungkook says your name.

"_____." when you turn around to face him, it takes a few seconds for him to make eye contact from across the room. "It was good to see you."

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"Let me see!"

It's the first thing Chaelin says when she opens the door to her appartment. It's on the second floor, small enough to compare it to most expensive appartments you'd stayed in throughout your life, but big enough for Chaelin, her cat and her -impressive- collection of acrylic nail kits and pairs of high heels. It's also big enough for her to offer you the only guest room until summer is over so you didn't have to, one, stay at your parents' place, and two, find an appartment in a short period of time for a short period of time.

When you left years ago, you did so with the thought of 'never looking back'. You never really expected to return here, of all places. Maybe visit your best friend for a weekend at most, have dinner with your parents on a saturday and then go back to the new life you'd made for yourself on a sunday.

But that was before you'd caught Adam cheating.

Tale as old as time: childhood sweethearts get engaged, move in together, son of a bitch sleeps with the assistand he told his girlfriend not to worry about, and then the brokenhearted girl packs her bags and leaves the cheating bastard begging for her to come back.

You'd be lying if you said you were surprised.

Throughout your life, you'd learned to expect many things, regardless of being sheltered and babied by your family since you were born. Watched too much Maury and Dr.Phil. Too much Gossip Girl to know what the deal with life really is.

So, thankfully, you'd only shed a few tears, mostly because your ego and self steem were slightly triggered. You'd realize long before that your feelings for Adam started to disappear once he popped the question and you said yes. Your love story began as teenagers but soon after graduating, the two of you went on different paths: you'd matured, grown into your twenties while he got stuck at 17 and never stopped acting as such.

So yeah, whatever, break ups are hard. But they're not as hard when the love is gone and the sole reason to stay with your partner is to please your parents. You were also right when you expected your mom to tell you to 'forgive and forget' because 'those things just happen, it's not a big deal, honey'.

But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

The lanky nerd with braces, glasses and an anime obsession much bigger than his hentai obsession, which is saying a lot. The shy, awkward classmate who'd stuttered his undying crush for you when you were just kids. That one who you had rudely rejected like the bitch you used to be in high school.

But my God, Jeon Jungkook was anything but a kid now.

You were shocked. You were gagged. Couldn't seem to fathom what was happening and what your eyes were seeing. It took you a while to close your mouth when you realized JK was Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

With messy black hair, a smoldering gaze free of glasses, piercings adorning both ears, and his right eyebrow,, the braces long gone showing perfectly straight - but still bunny like- teeth. The clothes he wore were loose, all black, but it was impossible not to notice the muscles of his back and arms, covered with tattoos from his hands to his forearms. You'd bet there were more of them underneath the fabric.

It was awkward at first. You didn't know what to do, or what to say. Didn't know if he rememberd you. So you chose to stay quiet while your body chose to react like it had never been in the presence of an attractive young man in it's entire life.

And oh, did it react.

He was reluctant, his old timid demeanor peeking through his newly adopted persona. But as soon as those hands came in contact with your skin, your whole body was lit on fire. Like you were 16 and losing your virginity over again and it was the first time a dude touched your boobs.

There shouldn't have been anything erotic about it -besides the fact that your entire breasts were exposed-, it should've been just a professional procedure. But those gloved fingers touched and pinched and suddenly you were too aware of Jeon Jungkook and the way you were starting to sweat profously, not due to the heat of the season.

You tried to distract yourself by looking at the cieling and not at his gorgeous face. Tried to avoid thinking about Jeon Jungkook and how his mouth would feel wrapped around you. Tried not to think about the way your panties were a second skin to your folds, and how tempted you were to grind your hips until you recieved some sort of friction with the jean fabric of your shorts. You wonder if he noticed you squeezing your thighs together. You hope not.

And then the needle happened. You never thought of yourself as a particularly kinky person. Sex with Adam was boring for the most part and you'd lost your libido for a long time. Stopped thinking about sex altogether. But the pain. The pain mixed with his hand rubbing soothing circles on your breast and his voice, as sweet as honey, guiding you through it. It made you reconsider a lot of things you'd once dismissed as 'weird' or 'deviant'

You swear you almost came right on his table.

And then your eyes connected, you made the mistake of calling his name like a satisfied woman who still needed more, and it was all gone. He stood up like a scared cat, gave you a bunch of explanations about the aftercare that you barely grasped without even looking at you and pretty much rushed you to leave.

So you walked, all the way from the tattoo parlor to Chaelin's appartment, mortified, and completely humilliated.

"Are you gonna let me see or not?" your friend says expectantly as you finally sit down after chugging a glass of iced water. You sigh, placing the glass on the table before carefully pulling down your top. "Oh my God, it looks so cool!" she gasps and you can't help a smile while she studies it in amazement. "Did it hurt?"

"Um, I guess." you keep out the part where you almost orgasmed, obviously, stopping her hand from touching when she reaches towards you. "Wait, no. He said something about not touching it for like six months or a year, I don't remember."

At that, Chaelin's eyebrows quirk up. "He? It was a he? Was he cute, at least?"

"You won't believe this..." looking away for a few seconds, you take a deep breath. "It was Jeon Jungkook."

There's a pause, a silence that fills the room when Chaelin's jaw drops. "Jeon Jungkook...pierced your nipple?"

You close your eyes, bracing yourself for what you're a hundred percent sure is coming.

"Ha..." there it is. "Ha ha..." you still know there's more. "Ha ha ha..."

Chaelin laughs hysterically for about God knows how long, while you keep drinking your glass of water unfaced, your mind drifting back to Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie, his tattoos and his stupid gloved hands.

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You know he's here.

Everything was cool, you were doing alright, having a great time with your vodka sprite in hand and your cute white bikini on. Chaelin was by your side, the guys were excited to have you back and thankfully, you'd avoided most questions about Adam and they'd avoided digging too deep into the topic. You'd sunbathed the whole afternoon, kept away from the water like he'd told you and ate the Hawaiian pizza Yoongi insisted on ordering despite Namjoon's and Jimin's complaints.

It's at night, when you're a little tipsy and your cheeks are flushed, that you feel it. You'd barely noticed Taehyung disappearing to let in a new guest.

You don't see him, but you feel him.

You're sitting on the pool tile steps, legs dangling and the water baely reaching your belly to make sure it doesn't touch your very sensitive and newly pierced nipple. Your back is facing the sliding glass doors of Hoseok's house, but the moment you hear his voice, smooth but animated as he converses with Taehyung, your body wakes up immediately, back straightening, goosebumps forming on your arms and nipples tightening against the fabric of your two piece.

You don't turn around, instead opting for downing the remaining of your drink and coming to the realization that, of course, Taehyung, social butterfly who'd always got along with everybody and remained friends with most people from high school, still keeps in touch with Jungkook.

You ignore him when he enters the pool, still peering from the corner of your eyes while pretending to be engaged in Chaelin's and Jihyo's conversation. Your mind sabotages you by taking you to that day a week ago at the tattoo parlor.

To the warmth of his hand, to the few strands of hair that his small ponytail couldn't keep together, to the way his eyes focused on such an intimate part of your body, to the endless ink decorating his skin, to-

Great. Now your bottoms are wet and not due to the water.

You don't miss Chaelin supressing a laugh and her not so subtle elbowing. You glance at her in warning and try to keep calm for the next fifteen minutes until Jin proposes moving to the living room to watch a movie.

"I'm gonna stay here for a little longer, guys." you say, after clearing your throat. You needed some time to gather yourself before being in a confined space with Jungkook.

"Are you sure?" Jin stops by your side to place a hand on your shoulder as everybody starts exiting the pool. "It's Mean Girls! You love Mean Girls! You never miss a minute of Mean Girls!"

Rolling your eyes, you wave him dismissively. "I know every dialogue on Mean Girls like the back of my hand, I think I'll be alright, Jin."

When everybody finally leaves, you take a deep breath, covering your face with your hands in an attempt to get him out of your head. Damn Jeon Jungkook and his irresisitble glow up.

"You okay?"

The unexpected voice startles you, a gasp finding its way out of your mouth and causing you to jump on your seat, heartbeat erratic as you instantly recognize who it belongs to. Your hand grasps your chest as if that would do anything to protect yourself against him.

"Shit, don't do that!" you say, the words almost getting stuck in your throat as you see him approaching you, still submerged in the pool. The more he nears you, the less water depth there is and the more visible his torso comes into view. Wich was exactly what you'd been avoiding.

Because Jeon Jungkook was ripped, as you'd imagined when you first encountered him.

Broad shoulders and strong biceps and chiseled abs and veiny forearms. Drenched hair, a full sleeve of tattoos and water dripping from delicious tan skin and all just so very hard. That paired up with a loopsided smile that does nothing but make you shudder.

"Sorry." he doesn't sound apologetic at all when he says that, the smirk adorning his features telling. "You just seemed a little off." you advert your gaze when he pushes his hair back.

"I'm fine, just...just wanted to be by myself."

"Oh" Jungkook's smile disappears. "I can leave, if you want me t-"

"No!" you're not sure where that comes from and neither does he, judging by the look on his face when your eyes find his. Eyebrows raised and mouth slightly parted, he's as surprised as you and there's an awkward silence for a few seconds. "Um, you don't have to. I mean, it's not my house, you can do whatever you want." you sniff and tame your voice, trying to seem cool and collected like you didn't just practically beg him not to go.

Ironic, considering this was exactly what you had been fearing for the past thirty minutes.

And then he smiles. A knowing smile. A smile that says 'you just totally checked me out and now you don't want me to leave'. A smile that you would have never associated with Jeon Jungkook of all people years ago. A smile that makes you want to look away but still keeps you in place.

"Sure." he says, closing the space between the two of you slowly but still leaving enough distance. "So, how's it going?"

You clear your throat, head high and determined not to let this man, or any man for that matter, turn you into a trembling mess. You're still you and you're not easily shaken by the opposite sex. Or at least that's what you helplessly chant in your head.

"Everything's cool. I'm on summer vacation now," a little white lie, "so I decided to-"

"The piercing." he says, the smile never leaving his face. "I meant how's the piercing."

"The pier- right." you almost miss the step he takes forward, all too aware of his height over yours but thankful for the centimeters that being propped on the stairs added to yours. "It's-" you almost, almost miss his knee touching your knee and him slightly separating your legs with his own inch by inch. Or how your thighs open unvoluntarely to welcome him in and how you can barely find coherent words to speak. "It's doing-" or the way his smile disappears and is instead focusing his dark stare fully onto yours.

"It's doing well." you finally say in a whisper, not being able to bring yourself to be louder.

He hums. "May I see it?" Jungkook wets his lips with the tip of his tongue and the action and his voice is enough to make you nod your head, bewitched.

His movements are unhurried, his hand coming up to tentatively come in contact with the flesh of your clavicle. His fingers skim through your skin upwards, his touch is feather-like when it wraps around your throat. You pant, and he stops but he doesn't move away, his eyes still focused on yours, studying you, daring you to pull back, to tell him to back off. But just a simple touch of his and you're fully under his control. It reminds you too much of the day you got that damn piercing.

Your lips are parted and for a moment he stays just like that. His body so close to yours but not close enough, and his hand slightly gripping your neck. Your pussy clenches around nothing and you can't wrap your head around the fact that something so simple sets your entire being alive and leaves you aching.

Then, as slow as he started, his hand travels from the front of your neck to the back, pushing your hair aside to carefully untie the straps of your bikini. He breathes through his nostrils, doesn't make a sound. He seems so collected it's starting to annoy you.

Instead, your breathing is ragged when the top falls down, exposing both your breasts to him. That's when he removes his eyes from yours and his jaw clenches. Your nipples perk up under his gaze, like they remember him and the effect he had on them just a week ago. You're at least glad you're not the only one affected but he seems to be a master at keeping it under wraps.

Then, his hand moves again, leaving goosebumps on your skin as it goes south. Jungkook takes his time, so deliberate you want to scream, until he's cupping your pierced breast, keeping away from the nipple just like he'd advised you a few days prior. You can't look away from his face, from his eyes observing you like you're a full course meal and he's been starving for days. You feel drops of water falling from his hair to your thighs, his thumb caressing your skin so delicately as it faintly nears your still tender nipple. Just nearing it, never touching it.

"Beautiful." his murmur is almost imperceptible and for a moment you think you've imagined it. Your back arches on its own, breast pushed against the palm of his hand, almost like your body is begging him to come closer, to touch you more, to feel you all over. He meets your eyes briefly, gauging your reaction, before going back to your chest. Suddenly, the grip on your breast tightens, fingers ever so softly squeezing your flesh. From your throat comes a mewl, your eyes shut and your legs close around his waist.

"Jungkook, please..." you whisper when you open your eyes. He looks at you, unvertainty written all over his face, lips bruised as if he had been biting on them too hard, gaze as glassy as yours. And just like that, the spell is broken. He blinks and his expression changes completely. Lips forming a straight line and jaw tight. His hand retracts, fixing your bikini top over your breasts before tying it around your neck like it originally was. Meanwhile your eyebrows crunch in confusion. But when you're about to start asking questions, he clears his throat.

"It's healing okay." he steps back, avoiding your eyes. "I'll see you inside."

Jungkook leaves the pool like nothing happened.

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Jungkook is fiddling, fixing the position of his glasses and combing through his straight hair with shaky hands, habits he's tried so hard to get rid of in his sixteen years of existence but still finds impossible to.

He can't help it. He's always been like this: the quiet and awkward kid in class who sits in the back, a misunderstood puppy in a sea of stronger dog breeds that could eat him alive. An outcast. Too geeky for his own good. Notebokes full of Dragon Ball doodles on the margins of the pages, the shelves in his room stacked with Marvel figurines, and a closet filled with outdated clothes that he has been inheriting from his older brother.

He has never been the type to stand out, always being overlooked by people like he's invisible. He doesn't mind though. He'd much rather be ignored than getting picked on by bullies like he used to in elementary school.

He never gets invited to parties. Ever. He's a nobody who barely speaks, and when he does he either stutters or manages to embarrass himself in one way or another. He's seen the look on people's faces when they look at him. Their eyes seem to scream 'weirdo' everytime he gets acknowledged.

So obviously the only reason he was invited to this particular party had a first and last name: Kim Taehyung. The only kid in Jungkook's entire life who didn't look at him in a funny way, the only kid who took the time to entangle in a random conversation with him after class and who seemed geniune enough to make Jungkook feel comfortable.

He's not sure how it happened, since Taehyung mostly hangs out with the cool kids. But somehow it did, and now Jungkook is uncomfortably standing in a living room full of drunk teens, looking directly at you.

You, the one girl Jungkook had been pining on for God knows how long. You, who are obviously too pretty, too popular, and way out of his league. You, with your plaid skirt and your polo shirt and those legs that never seem to end. You, who are sitting with your friends in a couch, drink in hand and visibly tipsy. And yet, he doesn't think he's ever seen anyone pull of the 'drunk-rosy-cheek' look better than you.

He can hear your laugh through the music and he already thinks it sounds better than whoever is playing in the background.

"Come on, Gukkie! Her friends are leaving and she's all by herself now! It's your chance" Taehyung's obviously drunk too because it took Jungkook a while to decypher his exact words. He'd disappeared for a while and now that he's back, he's pushing Jungkook in your direction.

"This was a mistake, Taehyung." Jungkook shakes his hair and steps back, quickly glancing at the front door to prepare his escape. But his new friend's grip on his hoodie keeps him in place.

"Guk, listen. The only thing you have to do, is walk up to her, and say 'hey I think you're, like, really pretty. Just letting you know. Bye!' That's it. Jung- Dude, Guk, seriously, look at me." Taehyung grabs Jungkook's cheeks, squishing them between his hands and forceing him to face him. "You've been crushing hard on her for years, my man. We're graduating and you won't see each other again. What's the worst thing that can happen? Getting rejected?"

Jungkook's eyebrows draw together. "Um, yeah?"

"Exactly! Getting rejected is not the end of the world, bro! It just means keep trying on other girls!" Taehyung releases his hold on Jungkook's cheeks. "I just think you're going to regret not telling your crush she's your crush. Who knows? Maybe in the future you two will get married."

Jungkook snickers, muttering a 'yeah right' under his breath. Still, he can't help the smile that Taehyung's words always seem to pull out of him.

"Now," Taehyung playfully slaps Jungkook before turning him in your direction again. "Go get 'em, tiger!"

"Okay," Mijoo's voice slices through Jungkook's memories. She's sitting on Jungkook's desk, munching on her brownies and looking at her coworker expectantly. "And then what?"

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, sits back on his chair, already feeling the effects of Mijoo's baked goods. "And then I walked up to her, like a damn fool, stutter and all. And I say:" he clears his throat, making an effort to do his best teenage Gukkie impression."'Hey, _____, um, so, I think you're beautiful and I've had a crush on you since seventh grade, haha, just wanted to let you know.'"

Mijoo rolls her eyes, still chewing. "And then what?"

"And then she looked me up and down, giggled, fucking giggled, Mijoo, and said 'Who are you, again?'" Mijoo gasps and Jungkook closes his eyes, trying to force that recollecion out of his head.

"What a bitch." she can't help but laugh before apologizing. Jungkook merely shrugs his shoulders and takes another bite of his brownie. "She didn't say anything else?"

"She said something along the lines of:" he clears his throat again, this time, doing an impression of you. "'That's sweet and all but, you and I... we're not the same. And I have a boyfriend, so...' She said that like I didn't know, like I wasn't aware of the school's it couple! Like I was dumb!"

Mijoo nods. "And now you want to fuck her even more than you did in high school."

"I- No! Well, yes. Fuck, of course I want to sleep with her! But I just... can't."

"Why not?"

"Did you hear anything about what I just told you or were you too concentrated trying to get high?"

It's Mijoo's turn to roll her eyes. "I heard everything you just told me. I just don't understand what the problem is. You two were sixteen. Sure, she was a bitch about it, but Lord knows I've been a bitch my entire life and now I'm not anymore." Jungkook raises an eyebrow at that. "Okay, sometimes I can be nice. But the point is..." Mijoo finishes her piece of brownie before getting off of Jungkook's desk. "It's been, what? Nine? Ten years? People change, JK. You're the best example of that. You want to fuck her and she obviously wants to fuck you too. You're both adults." she wipes her hands on her shorts. "I think it's time you fulfill that high school fantasy of yours."

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You've made up your mind.

And by you, it means Chaelin has made up your mind.

It didn't take long to convince you though. That last interaction with Jungkook cause too many emotions stirring within you. It left you hot, it left you bothered, it left you confused. Sure, it also left you a little bit embarrassed like the first time, but above everything else, that interaction with Jungkook left you absolutely livid.

Because who the fuck did Jeon Jungkook, formerly known as Guk, Gukkie, Jungukkie, and currently known as JK, think he was to come near you, speed your heart rate's up, and then runaway like that?

You've spent days thinking about it. About that face, about that body, about those hands and- shit. You're doing it again.

You've spent days trying to push those intrusive thoughts. Spent days trying to bury what happened. You've spent days trying to keep quiet, not telling anyone about it and just wishing that stupid spark of desire simply went away.

But it has just been simply unavoidable. You haven't been able to ignore the sleepless nights with your brain drifting back to that night and forbidding your hand from slipping under your panties. Or the excessive amount of time during the day where images of him suddenly popped in your head and wouldn't go away, even with you squeezing your thighs to try to make the ache go away.

So you ended up ranting and ranting and ranting to the only person you could confide on, who is obviously your best friend. Your best friend, who's too smart for her own good and knows you too well for your liking. Because apparently your moodiness and snappy remarks couldn't go unnoticed.

And after explaining the fiasco over a bottle of wine -and minutes of endless laughing on Chaelin's part because, again, it's Gukkie you two were talking about and, according to her, this was "the most karmic thing I've ever seen"-, she gave you the best advice an older sister could ever give.

"Fuck him."

"I know right? Fuck him!"

"No. I mean, fuck him."

And now here you are. Right inside that room you stepped in weeks ago, confronting the man in question with the same confidence that has always distinguished you from others and trying to act like the fluttering inside your belly wasn't nauseauting.

"A date."

"Yes."

"You want to go on a date with me." this wouldn't be so hard if Jungkook didn't look so delectable in a plain white t-shirt and ripped jeans. You cross your arms over your chest, doing your best to not look down at the exposed skin of a man who obviously worked out a lot and apparently, never skipped leg day. "What's the catch?"

He's sitting on his chair, back resting comfortably and legs spread, narrowing his eyes at you and probably wondering why the girl at the front desk let you in without an appointment. Also, probably wondering if there was a catch to all of this.

"There's no catch. I just want to go to the fair this weekend. I'll ask Taehyung for your number and text you the date and the exact place we'll be meeting. Unless..." your quirk one of your eyebrows. "Unless you're already planning on how you'll chicken out this time."

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Of course, Jungkook says yes to going on a date with his high school crush but spends the following days overthinking every single thing.

He can't help but feel like it's kinda sketchy. What if you're planning your vendetta on him? What if you don't even show up and he ends up there looking like a damn idiot? What if you hate him and are just messing up with him? What if that incident in high school is going to repeat itself?

"If she doesn't show up, you simply move on and never speak to her again. It's that simple. She can't have that much power over you to cry about something like that." Mijoo had said that same day she let you in the tattoo parlor after you'd asked to see Jungkook. Jungkook's coworker hadn't even question you and just motioned you to Jungkook's room with a knowing smile on her face. Later that day, Jungkook had scolded her about it and she'd simply shrugged.

He considers cancelling, eyes reading the 'won't be able to make it, sorry (sad face emoji)' over and over again and fingers hovering over the send button so many times he's lost count. But then he remembers that comment of yours about him chickening out and Jungkook starts seeing red.

How couldn't you understand he's just terrified of you rejecting him one more time? Sure, Jungkook is now an adult who doesn't get butthurt over stuff like that. He's experienced too much after graduating from high school and he's a much stronger individual than his fragile self back was back then.

But something about you just makes him feel so... weak.

He still finds it impossible to concieve where he got the courage to approach you like that at Taehyung's pool, or how he brought himself to touch you for longer than a minute without coming in his pants. He'd enjoyed it too much. Allowing him to see you so exposed, just for him. He'd be so tempted to kiss you right there and then, to run his hands up and down your thighs and fully wrap your legs around him to let you known how much you'd affected him. Once you called his name, it was like he'd finally snapped out of it and backed away like he'd been burned by you. He spent the next twenty minutes trying to keep himself from pulling down his pants and jerking off in his friend's bathroom.

It's terrible. Because he feels like the teenager he used to be when you're around. Shy, insecure and overall a mess. You showing up in his life after so many years and now apparenly being interested in him seems like a dream that he's not sure he wants to keep being in or wake up from before it's too late and he falls back into that tumoltuous longing that will inevitably end up in heartbreak. His heartbreak.

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It's saturday night, he's standing by himself in the crowded fair at the spot. You're fifteen minutes late and he's already about to turn back and dip out. He feels too awkward and the nerves are eating him alive.

You're not going to show up. You're not going to show up and now he feels and looks even dumber than the time he told you he was crushing on you. You're not even going to show up and now he's going to come back home, get drunk by himself and curse your name for-

"Hey!" he turns around to the sound of your voice and sees you running towards him. "Sorry I'm late! I couldn't find my phone and spent like thirty minutes looking for it. Turns out, Sharon Stone, was taking a nap on top of it and I didn't even notice."

"Sharon Stone?"

"Chaelin's cat."

To be honest, he's too surprised to process your explanation right away. He might also be a little speechless because that sky blue sundress looks too good on your skin and your eyelashes are so long, framing your beautiful eyes, and your lips are all glossy and kisseable that it takes him a while to find his own voice.

He clears his throat. "It's alright." scratching the back of his head, he momentarely adverts his gaze from you in an attempt to not get distracted by how soft your hair looks and how much he wants to wrap it around his hands in a ponytail. "Um, where do you want to go first?"

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Almost an hour and a half later, when the sun has already disappeared and you're both surrounded by colorful lights, Jungkook decides to buy the both of you hot dogs and a drink and you both settle down on a bench.

You've been walking all over the fair, going from booth to booth, playing any game in sight Jungkook dared you to -he obviously had a competitive streak-: from the ballon and dart games, to the shooting games, to the bumping cars, to the ball-in-basket one. To say you were having fun was an understatement.

You'd almost regretted setting the date up. You were sure he wouldn't even show up and if he did, you were scared of how awkward things could get between the two of you. And if things were awkward, you were sure it would only take less than thirty minutes for the both of you to part ways and never talk again about such failure of a date.

To your surprise, none of that happened.

The conversation was flowing, both of you acting like you were strangers on their first date getting to know each other, which, to be fair, that's exactly what it felt like. There was a slight banter, teasing each other when one of you lost in whatever game you were playing while the other was obviously winning. There were laughs and a funny feeling in your tummy whenever you'd walk side by side and his arm brushed yours.

There was no stiffness on his shoulders, no mention of the past or your previous encounters, no acknowledgement of the blatant sexual tension you'd experienced before, not an ounce of avoidance whenever your eyes met his and he was even sure of himself enough to place a hand on your lower back or briefly interwine your fingers with his to guide you through the mass of people.

It felt like you'd both unspokenly agreed on making each other feel comfortable enough to have a good time.

"I didn't think you were going to show up, to be honest." you suddenly say, taking a sip of your strawberry juice and thankful to finally let your feet rest for a while.

Jungkook looks at you, hot dog mid air and eyebrows almost disappearing into his hairline. "You didn't think I was going to show up? I didn't think you were going to show up." you simply shrug, lowering your gaze seepishly, the beginning of a smile on both your faces. He surprises you by tilting your head in his direction with his forefinger. You watch him watching you, a little dazed, a little lost in how his dark hair messily falls over his forehead and his equally dark eyes study your face, his thumb swiping over your lower lip. "You um... There was ketchup right there." he lies.

"Oh" you say, feeling your face heating up. "Thanks. Red doesn't really match this dress." you manage a smile and tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear.

At that, he eyes your dress for a moment, mouth slightly ajar. He's debating on whether or not to say something but you beat him to it.

"I'm sorry, by the way."

"For being late? I already told you it's fin-"

"No." you shake your head. "For... that time when we were young and I was such a concieted brat." you say, looking away , trying to find anything else that's not his pretty face. "I thought I was a queen bee back then. I was annoying and rude, specially to you. I..." you lick your lips. The cherry glittery gloss was already gone. "I thought it was cute, what you said. There was no reason for me to act like that. I know this doesn't make anything right but..." when you turn to face him again, there's still the same expression on his face. "I'm sorry."

A few seconds go by before it's him who's shaking his head. "It's okay. It was a long time ago, anyway." he smiles at you, although it doesn't reach his eyes and seems sorta forced. You sigh, and he takes your hand. "Let's go to the ferris wheel."

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tell you're tense. You're sitting right beside him in the ferris cabin, your back is all straight, you're facing forward and he believes you haven't blinked for what feels like an eternity. He thinks it has everything to do with your conversation a few minutes ago. You were probably not content with his response but what could Jungkook do? There was really no point in apologizing for something that happened years ago, but at the same time, he didn't want to hold anything against you like a resentful asshole because it was really not who he was. But there was still a little bit of stingyness inside of him and he didn't know how to make it go away.

At the end of the day, here you were, on a date with him that you'd asked for, getting along and asking questions about him and laughing at his jokes and trying to start all over again.

But then the ferris wheel starts moving, and he finally understands why you look so uncomfortable.

It's the way you immediately grip his forearm, nails digging in his skin and he swears he hears the smallest gasp forcing itself out your throat.

"Are you... scared?" he tentatively asks.

You say nothing for a while, not moving an inch. He would laugh if you didn't look so pained about it.

"I don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters." you finally say through gritted teeth.

"It's not really that small and ferris wheels are not rollercoasters. " your nails dig deeper and he winces. "Okay, okay. You don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters, and that includes ferris wheels. So why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know. I've never liked ferris wheels but you seemed excited about it, so..."

There's a silence after that in the environment, neither of you exactly sure of what to say or how to act. Until Jungkook moves one of his hands hands until it's resting on the one who's holding onto him for dear life, fingers caressing yours. The warmth of his hand spreads through yours and although it's almost July and you can already feel your sweaty back staining your dress, it's oddly comforting. What's more comforting even, is him twisting his body towards you and talking with the calmest and most soothing tone you've ever heard.

"Look at me." you do instantly, unwillingly, and kinda wish you hadn't. It's almost as if your body will do anything he says without question. Like he has some sort of power over it to just react however he wants. His eyes bore into yours and suddenly the cab doesn't seem so suffocating. "It's just you and me right now. We're not even on a ferris wheel." the corners of his mouth turn slowly upwards. You zone out the environment, suddenly too aware of him and how close he is and how loud the beating of your heart is to your own ears.

"Jungkook."

You swallow the knot in the back of your throat when he removes his hand from yours. It almost makes you protest, - now realizing you've losened the tight grip on his arm- , before it craddles your face, keeping you in place while bringing his body closer.

"You have to stop saying my name like that."

With his thigh touching your thigh, your whole demeanor melts. When he leans closer, and you feel his breath fanning over your lips, your eyes shut closed.

"Tell me I can-" he starts to say.

"Yes." you finish for him. He doesn't doubt on closing the distance between you two. His lips touch yours and your body shakes in excitement. It's just him lightly skimming your lips with his but it's already too much and at the same time, not enough. It has you deepening it, yourself moving closer when he kisses you again. It has you relaxing against him, the tenseness prior disappearing and making you arch your back when his tongue asks for permission.

But it's exactly then, the moment you open your lips to him, that has you losing your mind.

The sparks fly, traveling from your head to your toes and then settling on the pit of your stomach as soon as the kiss starts to turn desperate and rough. When he nibbles your lips with his teeth, it makes you mewl and whine and your nipples tight against the cotton of your dress. It makes the metal barbell to feel uncomfortable, slightly painful. And when he goes back to being messy and filthy with his tongue tangled with yours, your thighs close on their own.

He forces himself to pull his hand back and bring it down, finding the parting of yd opening them for him. "Wait," you say, your fingers wrapping around his forearm as you try to catch your breath."The ferris-" he shuts you up with another kiss.

"We're not on a ferris wheel." he reminds you, a soft whisper against your mouth. And for whatever reason, you believe him.

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"He fingered you on the ferris wheel."

"Yes."

"And you came before the ride was over."

You take a small sip of wine, your eyes focusing on the TV where a rerun of the Golden Girls is playing, although, to be fair, lately you haven't been able to pay much attention to anything else but a certain brunet with doe eyes and kisseable lips. "Yes."

She hums, stealing a handful of popcorn from the bowl between your thighs.

"How long did it took? Like five minutes?"

There's a pause in which you clench your jaw, your fingers twitching around the glass in your hand, and then you answer. "Probably less."

There's another pause, and then-

"Ha...Ha ha...Ha ha ha-"

You let her laugh. It's okay. You knew you had it coming.

Chaelin knows the pillow you throw right at her face is also something she had coming.

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It's not that you're mad.

Jungkook and you had a great time on that fair date, he made you laugh, bought hot dogs and drinks for the two of you and got you off inside the cab of a ferris wheel on record time with those magical, long fingers of his. Technically, there shouldn't be anything to be angry about.

Except it's been a week and you can't stop thinking about him, about wanting more, and about those words that he left you with after the ferris wheel ride ended, when you had tried to return the favor.

'Next time, maybe.'

And there hasn't been a next time.

The thought of texting him or giving him a call to ask for another date is persistent in your mind. It remains while you do the laundry or wash the dishes, while you shower, while you eat or while you spend your days at the beach with Chaelin. There's always the incessant desire to reach out towards your phone, unlock it and dial his number to beg for more.

But you'd never been one to beg, so you resist the urge everytime that feeling starts to creep up on you and it washes over you like a wave. You silence your phone and try to concentrate on making the most out of your summer.

It's one random night, when you're tiredly dragging your feet across Chaelin's apartment's carpet, yawning and ready to succumb to a well needed slumber, that you see your phone screen's lighting up with a message.

Your heart pathetically leaps inside your chest when you read his name.

'you free on saturday?'

You wish you could say you ghosted him, ignored his text and moved on with your life until it was him who begged you for another date. But the truth is you opened it in a matter of seconds and typed 'i'm free, why?' back in a rush with trembling fingers.

So now you're on the passanger seat of his car while he sits on the driver seat, the first saturday night of July, like he's Danny Zuko and you're Sandy Olsson, watching a vintage movie in a drive-in theater which plot you don't give a shit about, even if Jungkook's date plan idea made something inside of you churn with adoration.

And the only reason why you don't give a single damn about the movie playing in front of your eyes, is because you're hot. Way too hot. And the reason and cause is none other than the boy-now-turned-man sitting on your left.

You barely exchanged words when he picked you up, just rode in silence until you got to your destination and you bet he can feel as well as you do the tension in the air.

You've surveyed him a few times from the corner of his eye, noticing him fiddling with the rings around his fingers and shifting in his seat from time to time. And if the sight of his fingers bring memories that you've tried to bury to keep yourself from lunching towards him, a brief glance at his forearms, adorned with ink drawn through his golden flesh -doing a poor job at concieling the veins running underneath- and his skin-tight jeans wrapping those muscled thighs of his is enough to have you be the one squirming in your seat.

A woman can only endure so much, and you come to that realization thirty minutes into the movie.

"I want to suck your cock." you say, a stern expression on your face as you turn your body in his direction.

Jungkook frozes as your voice slides over him. It takes him a couple seconds to look at you, shock widening his eyes and parting his lips.

"Huh?" he manages, his grip on the steering wheel turning his knuckles white.

Without separating your gaze from his, you gather your hair and tie it in a ponytail with the hair tie previously around your wrist. You don't miss the quick glance he sneaks into the curvature of your neck and the valley between your breasts.

Inching forward, closing in on him, you place one of your hands on top of his thigh, the action making his whole body tense. "____..." he whispers your name in a warning that doesn't sound convincing even in his own ears.

You smile, your eyes never wavering from his as your hand inches upwards, slowly caressing over the fabric of his jeans until you finally come across what you were looking for.

His hand flies to your wrist, stilling your movements. "____, this is not-". He starts, but his voice gets stuck inside his throat when you palm his undoubtly growing erection.

"Shh." your shaky breath fans over his cheek and you force yourself on your knees on the passanger seat in a more comortable possition to stop the trembling to reach them.

You fumble with the belt holding his pants in place, then with the button and finally with the zipper. He helps you by lifting his hips to pull his jeans and boxers to his thighs and you have to bite back a mixture between a gasp and a moan at the sight below you. You haven't even seen Jeon Jungkook naked all the way, but the mere sight of his hard cock with pre-cum glistening on his crown is probably the sexiest thing you've ever had the pleasure of appreciating.

It gets sexier when you wrap your hand around the base and his body melts in the driver seat, throwing his head back with his eyes shut. It gets even sexier when you finally lower your head, swirling your tongue over the head before finally engulfing him fully in the wet warmth of your mouth.

"Shit." his voice is tight, uneven as his hand loosely grips your ponytail, as if careful not to accidentally hurt you and break the glorious moment.

Although you wouldn't mind at all. Because the moment your hands are on him, and your tongue is on his shaft, that's the only thing you care about. Your belly is twisting, an undeniable wet spot on your panties as the fabric sticks to your folds, and the more you suck Jungkook, the more you want from him. His earthy taste is addicting and the soft little whimpers he occasionally can't prevent himself from are making you want to milk him until he can't take it no more. There's this desire within you to whorship him and his cock like you had been dreaming for the past weeks.

"This is s-so fucking h-hot." he rasps between ragged breaths, the bobbing of your head, sliding up and down his dick as your hand works the centimeters your mouth can't take is about to make him faint.

"Getting a blowjob?" you joke, your throat starting to feel sore as you kiss his leaking tip.

"N-no." he draws in a rough breath when you take him all of him again. "You giving me a blowjob... T-the f-fact that anyone c-could see us..." he darts a quick glance at your body, your ass up in the air and your dress sliding down, almost exposing you completely. "The fact that-ah! Shit..." he squeezes his eyes when he feels a glob of your spit lubricating him.

There's a sudden need to make you feel the same, to touch your skin and have you shaking the same way you have him. So one of his hands travels from your spine, to your perked ass, finally dragging the cotton of your dress to allow himself to see your thin white panties. "The fact that anyone could see you l-like this," he murmurs, regaining a little bit of control when he squeezes one of your cheeks. "letting t-them see you s-sucking my cock and..." he smirks when he feels you gasping around him, his fingers trapped between your thighs and pushing them inside your heat easily "and letting them see me fingering this pretty little pussy."

Soon after that he's cumming in your mouth while you're cumming around his fingers.

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At first, it's mostly on weekends when you see each other. Weekends of stolen kisses and soft sighs and whispering against each other's lips. Then weekends turn to week days, sitting on grass while sipping on refreshing beverages, drawing each other laughs, elbows touching as you walk around the park side by side because the both of you are too scared to interwine your fingers together.

Jungkook feels content like this: sitting on the sand with you between his thighs, admiring the sunset while nuzzing your neck and inhaling your scent every now. He likes waching you enoying your strawberry ice cream, almost forgetting the chocolate chip one already melting in his hand.

"If you were an ice cream flavor,which one would you be?" you ask him, relaxing against his chest.

"Rocky road."

"Why?"

He shrugs behind you. "Everyone likes rocky road."

You hum, playfully rolling your eyes. "What about me? Which ice cream flavor would I be?"

"Lemon sherbet, in the summer."

"Lemon sherbet? Out of all of the flavours out there, you're rocky road and I'm lemon sherbet?"

"Lemon sherbet, in the summer." he corrects.

"Okay, fine. Why?"

"You're boring and basic."

You gasp, trying to feign outrage but not being able to repress the laugh that escapes your throat. You elbow him, his laugh mixing with yours while taking the time to wrap his arms around your form, the breeze blowing your hair allowing him a spot between your neck and your shoulder. "You're boring and basic, but once you have a taste..." he presses a small kiss on your skin, causing the tiny hairs on the nape of your neck to rise. "Once you have a taste, specially on the hottest day in the middle of summer, you can't stop tasting and licking until there's no more lemon sherbet left."

You suck in on a breath when he craddles your jaw to face him. "It's been my favourite flavor since I was a kid." he kisses you immediately after, his lips swallowing the small whimper now stuck in your throat.

You close your eyes as his tongue opens your mouth, arousal blasting your insides and something much, much deeper that you fear to even name shredding your chest.

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The beginning of august comes faster then you two realize, but what you both do realize is how hard it's becoming to stay away from each other.

It's been thirty days of dates happening almost everyday, sharing high school memories and anecdotes of the time you spent away from each other. Hours of getting to know each other and opening up to each other. From failed relationships to new friendships. Of park dates walking side by side and fingers now interwined because you both realized one day that, fuck it.

It's difficult to sleep when you realize you're starting to catch serious feelings for somebody who was just supposed to be a fling. It's hard to sleep when his face, his voice and his touch and thoughts of missing him when you don't see each other start haunting you at night.

It's hard for Jungkook to focus on work when you're everything that's occupying his mind. Because he has a hundred sketches to make but he's too busy thinking about the hundred different sketches he would make of you.

It's hard not to send him a goodnight text, just like it's hard for him not to reply in a matter of seconds, almost as if he was already waiting to recieve it.

Jungkook thinks of you at night. Of how pretty and absolutely perfect you are for him. Of the taste of your lips, the way your hair feels between his fingers, or the flush on your cheeks when he makes you cum as droplets of sweat accumulate between your breasts. He thinks about your voice. He also thinks about the amount of hours left to be able to listen to it again.

But mostly he thinks about how ridiculous this situation is. Because he was stupidly crushing on you when you were only teenagers, daydreaming about a chance with you. And now his crush is long gone and he's starting to realize that he's falling, and falling fast.

You, too, think of Jungkook at night. Of his ability to bring a smile out of you, to soothe you with just a few words and filling your belly excitement, happiness and feelings you're sure you've never felt before.

Jungkook's managed to imprint himself in your dreams, and you, in his.

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Getting drunk with Jungkook is fun and messy.

It's fun because he lets loose, he stutters a lot like he used to do when he was a teenager and he makes you laugh louder than ever before. It's messy because he has no control over his hands as they explore your body, clumsily taking your clothes off as his mouth laps at the breast he's allowed to touch.

He's more forceful and dominating too, pinning your hands above your head, and commanding you to keep them right there, on the pillows of his bed. When you rebel against it, your fingers finding the hard planes of his chest, he pulls away from you and places them back where he left them. "Don't make me tie you up." he threatens, and your body shudders beneath him.

He sucks, and bites and leaves marks all over your skin, grunting in response to your moans. Creating a path of kisses from your lips to your stomach, his shoulders separating your knees, opening you up only for him. And thankfully, when you reach down to tug at the strands of hair framing his face, he lets you, because he knows you need something to hold on to the moment his tongue eats you up. He leaves his fingertrips on your thighs as he keeps you in place, not allowing you to runaway. Just forcing you to take it as he takes from you.

And when you cum, he doesn't back away. He keeps sucking, and licking and punishing you with his mouth until you're cumming over and ove again, screaming and begging for his cock.

Having Jungkook over you, both completely naked, skin to skin and only sweat in between is more than you could've ever fantazised about. He slurls your name when he puts the condom on. He would do anything to feel you raw, but he also knows he wouldn't be able to last a minute. The sight of you spread open, with your cheeks darkened by a crimson blush and your hair tangled all over his pillow is a picture he wants to keep forever.

He enters you when you call his name, your voice dripping with need. He stretches your warm and wet felsh, slowly easing himself into you at first, until he's fully inside and your bodies are completely in union. A shiver runs down Jungkook's spine when he looks at your contorted face in pleasure, your lips forming an 'O' and your pussy clenching around him.

"Oh, my God." you moan into the dark of Jungkook's room, and even then, he can clearly appreciate every curve of your body lifting off the mattress to connect with his. He lowers himself on his elbows on either side of your head, caging you in and capturing your mouth with his.

"I know, baby." he murmurs. It's hot, in the middle of August but suddenly Jungkook doesn't hate summer as much as he used to. Not with you sharing the heat with him. "It's way beyond what I could ever imagine." You nod hurriedly against his lips, your arms finding their way around his neck as he starts rocking in and out of you.

"It's too good." you cry, when he hits a particular spot that has you rolling your eyes in bliss and gripping his waist tighter with your legs against you. Your fingers thread through his hair, not bothered by the beads of sweat gathered on the nape of his neck.

"Too good..." he agrees, not missing the shiver that's shaking your own frame when he picks up his speed. "You have no idea what I would do t-to fucking feel you with n-no barriers between us," his movements become frantic as his hips slap against yours, his jaw clenched as he keeps talking, "to s-stuff you full of my c-cum over and over again until it won't stop d-dripping."

Jungkook's voice against your ear has you trembling and your orgasm nearing closer, your nails scratching down his back as his thrusts overpower your form. "Would you like that?" he asks with his voice strangled.

"Y-yes. Anything y-you want."

"You'd take all of my cum like a good cum-slut?"

You hate the fact that that's what makes you come undone. The twisting and knotting in the pit of your stomach finally snapping until you're holding on to him like you never want to let him go and he's following soon after.

Because if Guk, Gukkie, Jengukkie was not only able to make you come in less than a few minutes with his fingers or his tongue, but he was also able to make you cum instantly just by calling you a good cum-slut, that means you're fucked. Like, really, really fucked.

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There's a knot in Jungkook's stomach and a suffocating grip around his vocal chords as he caresses your skin. The sun is rising in the distance with the first rays of light entering his room through the window. Your shamphoo is intoxicating him, numbing him and enticing him to bury his nose in the tangled curls pressing against his chest. Your arm is thrown across his stomach, your breathing leavig goosebumps all over his body.

"It's too early. Go back to sleep." you mumble against his heart. He wonders if you can feel it dangerously speeding up.

"I can't." he says, voice struggling to stay balanced. "I have to tell you something."

You hum in response, sleep still interwined with your body, your arm tightening around him. You sigh in content, expecting him to elaborate.

He wets his suddenly dry lips. "I don't want this to end. In fact, ____.... I want more. Need more."

"Jungkook..." your whole body goes rigid right away, untanglling your bodies from each other and sitting up on the mattress.

"No, listen to me." he mimicks your movements, rapidly grabbing your hands to make you look at him. His eyes are expressive, a mixture of fear and hope swirling in his dark irises. "I wake up everyday, and you're the first thing I think of. I go on about my day, and I keep thinking about you, wondering what you're doing and counting down the hours until I get to see you again. I spend every night dreaming about you, and when we'e together, the only thing I can think about is how I wish I could stop time so I don't have to say bye to you the next morning. ____, I-"

"Jungkook, stop please." you shake your head, pushing away from him and in desperate need of air. You press a hand against your chest, beating back the throb of pain while the other curls in a tight fist, the feeling of your fingernails digging into your palm less painful than the ache inside your heart. "This... This wasn't supossed to happen, Jungkook." you start pacing around the room, as if trying to find an exit while avoiding his gaze. "This was just a summer fling. That's all it was, I'm supposed to come back to the city in two weeks and-"

"A summer fling?" a sardonic sneer comes out of him. "Oh my God, I can't believe this is happening again..." he mumbles to himself before rising from the bed. You stop immediately, a shiver quaking through you as his impressive frame intimidates His eyebrows are drawn together and his dark eyes are void of any prior emotion. "You're going back to the city in two weeks? And you didn't care to tell me until now, after I just spilled my guts to you?"

You eyes fill up with uncomfortable tears, reaching one arm towards him. "Jung-"

He flinches, taking one step back. "A summer fling is all I mean to you?"

"Ju- "

"Look me in the eyes, right now, and tell me that's all I mean to you. A summer fling." panic crawls up your throat. There's the need within you to confirm, to stare into his beautiful and stern eyes and tell him that, yes, that's all he is to you. But you've never been a good liar. So nothing comes out. You opt for wrapping your ams around yourself wishing they were his and lowering your eyes to the ground. "I think... I think you should leave."

Those are the last words he says to you, and the last thing you see when you turn around one more time after gathering your clothes, is his back as he looks out the window.

You allow yourself to cry the exact moment you step into Chaelin's apartment. Your friend is sitting on the couch, bowl of cereal in hand and a fresh cup of coffee sitting on the livingroom's table.

"Hey, you're early tod- Baby, what's wrong?"

"Please, don't laugh."

That morning, you lay down for hours on the couch with your head on Chaelin's lap while she softly brushes your hair as you cry, hiccup, fight through the pain in your heart and relate to her as best as you can the latest events.

She doesn't laugh at all.

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"She'll come back." Mijoo's slurred words do nothing to put Jungkook's state at ease that night. He simply shrugs, fingers clenching at his sides, frowing into his drink before gulping down the bitter taste of vodka in one shot. "Seriously, I think she's just afraid. My ex was the same."

"Comparing her to your ex is not the analogy you think it is."

"Ugh, shut up. Things didn't work with my ex because she was a bitch." Jungkook gives Mijoo a pointed look which she responds to by rolling her eyes and sipping on her rum coke. "Your girl is not a bitch. She used to be a bitch. What she did this morning was bitchy, but, like I said, she's just being a pussy. If she only wanted sex with you, she wouldn't have been doing couple stuff with you the entire summer."

"Whatever. I don't care." he lies and Mijoo knows he's lying but decides to drop the subject fo now.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

"We can't keep spending our days smoking weed." Chaelin speaks over Blanche's voice on the TV.

"I know. I'm just sad."

"You have to come back and tell him how you feel."

"I know."

There's a beat of silence before your friend kicks your thigh with her feet.

"I know and I will." you mumble through red eyes and smoke clouds.

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

It's September first and it doesn't feel like Jungkook's birthday at all. He's been trying to focus on his work, alternating between isolating in full hermit mode and hanging out with friends to drink away his sorrow. The days have gone by and before he could realize it, he woke up today with over twenty text messages wishing him a happy day and a throbbing hangover.

He dresses up on autopilot. First a cotton shirt, then a pair of jeans and lastly, his Nike's. He doesn't bother tying his sneakers just like he doesn't bother taking a shower. He smokes a cigarette for breakfast, the death stick making him feel nauseaus on an empty stomach. And then he goes to work.

He's been repeating the same routing for the past weeks and he's not thinking of changing it, not even on his bithday.

He spends hours drawing, tattooing and drawing some more between yawns. He ignores texts an phone calls and simply waits until the day is over to go home, go to bed and forget about the fact that you're probably on your way to the city and that he hasn't crossed your mind not even once.

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Inkphoria.

You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping cup of ice cream as it melts down your fingers the more you wait. The shop is already empty and it's starting to darken out side, and still you're so hot. Your shorts are heavy and your tank top is sticking to your skin. You didn't even bother to put on any make, although your eyebags definitely needed some concieling and your lashes some dimension to hide the fact that you'd been crying for the last few days.

'You're crazy about him.'

Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.

You've lost count of how many times your best friend has given your advice, or simply encouraged you to do something you've been too scared to try.

'And he's cazy about you too.'

Chaelin might be wrong about marmite and the movie Cats, but she's definitely now wrong about anything regarding your and Jungkook.

That's it. You briefly close your eyes, inhale a deep breath then release it slowly. You start walking. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing the door open.

The tattoed blonde looks up from the counter the second you come into view. She smiles at the distance between you two. "You can come closer. I won't bite."

You clear your throat, stalking closer to her. "Is he-"

"He's in the back." she replies before you can finish you question. You close your mouth, clear your throat and nod your head.

"Thanks, Mijoo." she gives you a small wink, her smile easing your nerves like she had three months ago.

She watches you disappear. She shakes he head, her smile meeting her eyes. "I told him so."

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Jungkook ignores the knock on his door at first. It's almost ten and the parlor is about to close. He just has to finish this last fucking sketch so he can grab his shit and go the fuck ho-

Knock knock.

He growls, exhasperation cursing through him. He runs a hand through his messy pile of hair, his rings tangling between the strands, making him wince in pain. "Come in." he grunts under his breath. The door opens. "Mijoo, I really have to finish-"

He stops dead in his tracks as soon as he sees you.

"Hey." you say after a moment of hesitation.

"Hey." he replies and although there's something inside, deep in his chest, shouting at him to stand up, run up to you and kiss your face while he tells you how beautiful you look right now and how happy he is to see that you're still here, he decides against it. "Listen, ____, I'm pretty busy-"

"No, you listen to me." you cut him off abruptly. He looks taken aback and is already opening his mouth to say something, but you're not having it. "Please, just... Let me talk."

Silence looms between the two of you for a while, a staring contest defying each other to back down. When you take one step inside and close the door behind you, he sighs and leans back against his chair.

You move towards him slowly, your lip caught between your lip going through your mind for the speech you'd been preparing the last few days. Your hands are sticky due to the the sugary treat liquifying in your hand. "I know there's no reason you should give me another chance after rejecting you in high school, and there's definitely no reason why you should forgive me for the way I shut you out a few weeks ago. You've been confessing your feelings to me since we were teenagers, and now it's my turn to tell you exactly how I feel about you."

"Jungkook, the truth is... I like you so much. I like you more than I've ever liked anyone. Ever. I said this was just a summer fling, and I was lying. I was lying because there's no way a simple summer fling could make me feel the way you do. There's no way a simple summer fling could make me want not just summer with you, but also fall and winter, and spring and every summer that comes next."

You hadn't realize when your eyes filling up with tears until the sight of him starts blurrying in front of you. His fingers reach yours, his thumb comforting on your skin. "____, it's okay-"

"I'm not done yet." you sniffle, gathering enough courage to continue. "I brought you a lemon sherbet because you said it was your favourite. But you also implied I was your favourite, and I want to keep being you favourite, but now it's already melted and-"

The corners of Jungkook's lips start pulling upward as he tugs you towards him, his heart loudly jumping inside his chest. "Shhh, come here."

He takes the ice cream from your hand and places it on his desk. Then he's helping you onto his lap, your head tucked under his chin and your arms wapping on their own around his neck.

He doesn't care about your sticky fingers or the wet stains of your tears in his shirt. The only thing he cares about is the fact that you're right there, letting him engulf your frame and drown in the scent and warmth he'd misses so much.

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The first day of June has Jungkook sweating and wishing for a haircut. Jungkook usually hates summer. He hates the fact that he has to shower at least twice a day, and the fact that the heat is almost unbearable to sleep in and also the fact that he's easily sunburnt.

This year, however, Jungkook likes summer a little bit more.

"Excuse me, miss. Do you have an appointment?" it's the fact that you're starting to wear those summer dresses he loves so much, and the fact that your skin glows under the sun like glitter, and also the fact that he can lick ice cream off of it whenever he desires.

"I am the appointment." your giggle is almost childlike, playing with Jungkook's heart strings. You shut the door behind you, nearing him. You also seem to always have that flush on your cheeks. Although he likes to think part of it is due to him. He doesn't say anything else as he puts his pencil down and instead turns around in the chair to have you immediately on top of his thighs.

Yeah, he also likes the path your lips trace from his cheek, to his jaw, ending at the juncture between his neck and his shoulder. It still makes his body quaver to this day.

"Let me see." he murmurs against you forhear, his hand already working on unbottoning the front of your dress.

"Mijoo hasn't left yet." you whisper back, your smile impossible to supress and the faint whimper impossible to hide when his fingers expose your breast and tug at the titanium barbell adorning the already hardened nub.

Jungkook loves knowing he was the one to do that, and also the only one to play with it. He doesn't hesitate when he dips his head. "As if we'd ever cared about that." he adds, wrapping your sole point in his mouth.

He fucks you on his studio table with your legs around his waist and his tongue playing with both your breasts, the tattoo sketches long forgotten, scattered on the floor as he whispers against your flesh something that sounds a lot like 'I love you'.

#jungkook #jeon jungkook #jungkook smut #bts fanfic #jungkook angst #jungkook x reader #bts #bts fic #bts smut #jungkook fic

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