#huh now that I think about it do I have a queue tag?? I feel like I used to

[snatcher-no-snatching]

#a hat in time #ahit #y'know despite everything it's still nice to at least have the time to make memes again #huh now that I think about it do I have a queue tag?? I feel like I used to #whatever. it'll post when it posts lmao

[gremlingottoosilly]

I met a guy in the Summer (dilf!Konig x fem!Reader)

Your boyfriend is an asshole. Luckily, his hot dad just returned from deployment. CW and Tags: Cheating, dub-con, size kink, daddy kink, age gap(reader in 20s, Konig is early 40s), Konig is a pervert, slightly obsessive Konig, love(and lust) at first sight, fingering, dom!Konig Word count: 3713 AO3

“Just one more game, babe, don’t be a buzzkill. I don’t want to end at a loss.” You didn’t want to be a buzzkill, of course. You simply wanted to be a good girlfriend, have some domestically cozy date, and for your boyfriend to at least try to put an effort into being with you. It wasn’t much to ask for, really. You hoped so, at least. You didn’t want to be an annoying, nagging girlfriend who only ever waits for another reason to yell at him, but your patience started to run thin. 

You spend the past three hours either listening to his apathetic rambling about the shows he watched – really, you wanted to invest in stuff he liked, but an abnormally large amount of animes he talked about had 1000-year-old girls who looked like they were 10, wearing inappropriate outfits, and you started to raise the alarm. 

You also watched him play – and also listened to his rage quitting and angry voice messages to his team that, honestly, made you slightly anxious. You never liked loud people, people who were so easy to rage about something as silly as some colorful video game with too many characters to look after. 

So, like a good girlfriend would – you wanted to be a good girlfriend, he was such a nice guy before you started dating, and you need something to think about besides the tremendous amount of study work you are doing for college – you decided to go and look for snacks. Maybe bring something for him as well. 

— I’ll find something to eat, alright? 

He didn’t respond at first, so you shook his shoulder. Your boyfriend took off his headphones with annoying look on his face, half-turning to look at you. You gulped, suddenly feeling like a child in front of the principal – not a feeling that you were supposed to feel around your partner, but with him, you somehow constantly felt like you were being judged. 

— Nah, stay here. I don’t want my father to see you. 

— Ah…your father is at home? 

You never heard anyone else being at the house – big house, you must admit, and it’s embarrassing almost how you never thought about his family. He lives with his dad, apparently, and the depth of your relationships can only be judged by the fact you literally didn’t know what his father’s name was. 

— Returned from his fucking deployment. He’d ask too many questions about you. 

— You didn’t tell him about me? 

Ah, now you’re hurt a little bit. You knew it wasn’t anything serious or too committed yet, but you intended to make this work. To try and fix all the problems you can without ending things abruptly. 

— He never asked. Not like he cares too much, but…

An apathetic dad, huh. 

You started to slowly piece together the puzzle that was your boyfriend’s horrible boyfriend skills. Now, you want to meet the man who conceived him and kick him in the nuts for creating such an unlovable human being who somehow captivated your chronically lonely heart. 

— If you don’t want me to come and meet him, I can go home. 

He doesn’t answer because his queue is finally coming to another match – you simply nod, knowing everything you need to. You can grab a little snack for yourself, fuck off to your dorm and rethink your life choices while your roommate is getting pounded by some gruss British bloke with an accent that makes your ears bleed. 

You have dignity, and right now, it has asked you to get some snacks from the kitchen. 

*** Now, the only thing König wanted after returning from deployment was to take as many hot showers as he could, shut his bastard of a son up, and get some delicious food waiting for him in the freezer. He was already home for a few days, but adjusting is always hard when you basically fucking hate living at your own house. Of-fucking-course, his son was watching the house while he was away – and now he can’t even think of a good excuse to set him off to his mother. Too old to do this, and split custody never really worked when not even one part of the relationship wanted to take care of the kid. 

König closes the door of the refrigerator – of course, his son took every good thing that he stashed for himself. With a groan, the colonel fights the urge to finally throw him out of the house – a thing he needed to do a few years ago, just when he celebrated his 18th, but some sentimental part of his heart instead promised to help with finding a place close to the college. No good deed goes unpunished. 

With a groan, he takes a few steps from the fridge – and then he almost stumbles across an angel. 

Scheisse

Now, König never thought of himself as a predator who prefers running after college girls who might as well be his daughters. He never thought of himself as a gut who liked them young – his wife, god forsake her name, was his age when they started dating, and he hardly had any sexual encounters with a person under 25 in the past few years. Well, not like he had any sexual encounters in the past years, but…

The thing is – he never thought he liked girls with wide eyes, pouty faces, and trembling hands who were holding a bag of his cookies that he carefully stashed away from his son. 

You are wearing something cute, a nice skirt and an adorable pink cardigan that looks so cozy and warm and soft, and he fights the urge to grab your skirt and simply lift it, You’re dressed up for a cute coffee date, and König has to double check if he isn’t dreaming and no one has decided to play a prank on him and send him a cute callgirl. 

— Oh! Sorry. It’s yours, isn’t it? 

You give him his cookies back – but not before your fingers fished another salty caramel goodness out of the bag, and you bit it. He looks at your teeth, at your lips, and glimpses of your tongue – god, he is an old, dirty bastard because even his baggy pants aren’t enough to hide his boner. You have no right to look this pretty for a man who hasn’t seen a woman in three months and hasn’t had sex in the past few years. 

You lick the crumbs from your fingers – it’s such a deliberate action that he can’t believe he actually sees it, and it’s not even something from porn he used to like. 

— Ja. You can have it. 

He would give you the code to his bank account if you asked for it. 

— Thank you, sir. I’m…well, I assume if Paul didn’t introduce me to you…I’m his girlfriend. Nice to meet you. 

You lick your lips and take a step back, pressed against the counter. He looks at the sway of your hips, a bit of crumbs on your shirt, and almost brushes it away with his hands. It would be a good excuse to touch your chest – but he can’t be like this, he has to keep his urges under control, or else his son will never forgive him. 

Yeah, like he needs a better reason to throw his useless son from his home. 

— Girlfriend? He never spoke about you. 

You look sad, and he immediately curses under his breath. For a moment, you look too fragile – too real. He can’t handle this look on a woman, especially as pretty and young as you are. You bat your eyelashes, even involuntarily, and he already prepares to give you the keys to his home just so you’d stop with such miserable expressions. He has a spare bedroom. 

He has his bedroom with a bed that would be enough for both of you. 

— Ah. Um. We’re…I guess we’re not at this stage yet. 

— Knowing him, you’ll never be, Schatz. 

You look at him immediately – you’re offended, angry, and sad at the same time. There is a certain stubbornness in your eyes that immediately makes him want to simply scoop you in his arms, lift you, and drag you straight to the altar – and here he thought that his impulses over getting married would be over after his first divorce. 

— What do you mean by this, sir? 

You look uncertain now, he can see this in your eyes – and really, knowing his asshole of a child, he is almost sure that Paul never once got you off, either physically or emotionally. 

Now, König never once considered himself to be a good man. He has killed countless people, overthrown many governments, and made shitty jobs for shitty people way more than saving hostages to help the good guys – and in the romantic field, it’s even worse. Wife, unsatisfied with his controlling tendencies and inability to feel normal love for a human being – and a son who hates him because, in fact, he never once wanted to have a kid. 

He looks at you and sees a pretty young thing, still in college or freshly out of, probably without a stable job and normal social standing – a good girl won’t be with his son if she isn’t stupid or extremely desperate for a relationship. 

The thing is, König is also extremely desperate for another warm body next to his, to feel a woman beside him, to love and obsess over someone – he looks at your pouty lips and shaky hands, at the way you bite the corner of your glossy mouth, and he almost wants to drop you on this very table and fuck you until you’re crying under him. He can’t do just that, of course. It would probably make you extremely uncomfortable and scared, but…well, quite frankly, his son doesn’t deserve you. 

König is. 

— I won’t sugarcoat it, Schatz. My son is a Scheiß Arschloch…fucking asshole, that is. I’m surprised he brought home someone as cute as you. 

You feel embarrassment collecting in your body. Paul’s dad is a…interesting man. 

Tall, broad, very muscular – even his baggy house clothes aren’t really concealing his extremely interesting physique from your eyes. He looks yummy and tasty, and you fight the urge to eye the bulge in his pants because you’re a good girl, you don’t look at your boyfriend’s dad like this. 

König has greying ginger hair, locks already curling slightly at the lack of cutting, and you fight the urge to sit on the counter and get your palm in his scalp, massage his head gently, and pull him closer for a kiss. You feel like a dirty, horrible woman – your boyfriend is in his room, probably enjoying his time on your “date” while you’re lusting over his father. 

Then again, this date already felt like a disaster. This relationship, too. 

— Paul isn’t all that bad, sir. 

“He at least has a nice dick,” you wanted to add but stopped yourself. Paul is tall and somewhat strong – if he weren’t sitting at his computer all day, you would call him even muscular. And he has a nice dick, yes, even though he had no idea how to use it. You liked the idea of laying with him, of spraying your jaw trying to fit all of this in your mouth, but his kinks and his sex skills being directly taken from porn…not really your thing. 

You look at König and wonder if they are similar in all of the places. He is his father, after all. 

König catches your gaze locked on his bulge and smirks. 

God, if he knew his son had such a cute girl, he would ask her to come earlier. He is two weeks off deployment and probably won’t take another long contract for a few months because they just upped his retirement payings, and he can afford to slack off a little bit, only visiting the home base for some training and instructions for rookies. 

He can afford to retire and never worry about money again – but he needs someone to make his days less boring, right? 

You look like a good candidate. 

— I’m sure my son was convincing, but I know him better than anyone. He doesn’t deserve you, Schatz. 

He is shitty at flirting, it’s not his forte – he can flaunt his money, maybe, show you in his wallet and bank account face first. He can just straight up ask you to be his sugar baby and suck his cock instead of doing your studies, but he can’t flirt and manipulate to save his life. Lying isn’t something he is good for, this is why his wife has left. 

— I…not sure we should be having this conversation here. 

You’re a good girl, and it’s infuriating. He knows that having someone in his bed shouldn’t be the end goal for his leave, but he wants you, and by the look on your face, you aren’t opposed to the idea. König doesn’t understand if he likes that you’re so reserved about it or if he wants you to be a bit more slutty – but he captures you in the space between the kitchen counter and presses you with his body. 

— You want to see the bedroom then?

Pushes you so close his knee gets between your legs – it might look involuntary like he didn’t exactly want for it to be placed here, but you aren’t dumb, you know what he wants from you. Like a good fucking girl, you’re too shy to give it to him right about now. God, sometimes he hates being so nice to people around him. 

— Sir, this is very…

He got you caged in his hands, body trapped in his embrace – you jerk your head upwards a little bit, staring at him like a small bird in the hands of a predator. He isn’t a strong man in regard of morals, he doesn’t see anything wrong with fucking his son’s girlfriend – if the girl is up to it. And if she isn’t…well, he better make sure she is. 

— What is it, Schatz? Paul won’t hear us in his headphones.

You know just how wrong it is, and you almost want to escape – his dick grinds on your pelvis through his pants, and you’re horrified to see how big it is. Excited too, of course, he is bigger than your boyfriend ever could be, and you don’t want to be a slut, but, oh well, not like you were in a committed and serious relationship anyway. 

Paul was seeing your friends more than you ever saw them – it’s probably a sign that you should settle for someone older. You did enjoy Lana Del Rey's songs, after all. 

— I don’t want to break his heart. 

— He doesn’t have one. 

You’re lost when he pushes his lips to kiss you over and over again – a surprisingly good kisser, and you give in because it was the first time in forever a kiss made you feel this good. His lips are sending electricity down your spine, you want to moan just from his knee, pushing on the softness of your cunt through that adorable skirt you liked so much – you feel so small like this, so tiny in his hands, you…

God, you feel like a slut, and you like it. 

Soon enough, you answered the kiss, your lips meeting his in a dance that made you feel hot, that made you feel like your boyfriend never could. Never thinking of yourself as someone who can fall so easily into the hands of an older man, now you know that he got you right where he wanted. 

You push your hand on his pants, trying to get the control back – but he stops you, a giant hand enveloping your wrist and pushing you back. With a surprise on your face, König just wants to kiss you all over. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that you deserve way more than being fucked on the rough kitchen counter while your so-called boyfriend is too busy dickriding his friends in some useless online game. 

— Not now, princess. You deserve better than being fucked on the kitchen counter, ja? It can come later. 

“Later” sounds like a promise, and you bite back your moan when he keeps pushing his knee against your cunt, making you throb and clench on nothing. He is such a gentleman, you can’t help but compare him to his son – and his fabulous ability to make you feel dirty after fucking you in the backseat of his car and tossing you to your dorm with your pussy still wet and messy after you didn’t cum. 

You sob, not from sadness, but from pleasure mixed with some weird, unnatural for you emotions – you feel weird, strained here like this, but you hug his neck and whisper something in his ear. Something, dangerously sounding just like “daddy, please” 

König is blushing, and he looks fucking adorable. 

— Daddy, ja? God, you’re dangerous, liebling. Going to get me in trouble with my son later. 

He laughs when he kisses you again, his hand slipping in your panties only to find them completely soaked – he knows you deserve a nice pillow and soft sheets under your body, and he pushes you up so you can hug his waist with your legs. You rely on him like a cute pet, and you’re so perfect in his hands he curses himself for not seeing you before. 

He is going to ruin you for anyone but him. Put so much cum in you, it will make your tummy bulge – make you his precious sugar baby, pay for your dumb college and make you move to his bedroom instead of some shitty dorm you probably share with four other people. 

He can be good for you – but he will ruin you for anyone else, anyone appropriate, every guy your age who clearly doesn’t know how to treat a lady right. 

— So wet for me…such a filthy thing, I didn’t know my son dated a whore. 

— N…not a whore, please…

He kisses you on your forehead, silently apologizing. You feel his crooked, scarred smile, and you push your face up to kiss him – you want to touch him so badly it makes you feel stupid. 

— Sorry, Schatzen. Not a whore, a good girl for her daddy, ja? So nice for me, too fucking young…

— W…we really shouldn’t… — Tshhh, don’t think about it. Thinking will only hurt your pretty dumb head. — I’m not…

— Quiet, little one. Let daddy handle everything.

He kisses you over and over, his fingers playing with your pussy – meaty digits digging in your hole, making you whimper from sudden intrusion. He is big, bigger than anyone else, just two of his fingers are enough to spread you as much as normal cock would, and even though you’re used to taking Paul’s size, you just know that his dad would be much, much bigger. He is going to split you open, and you will love every fucking second. 

It feels so wrong, you still aren’t sure if you want him to touch you like this. 

It feels so right, he is experienced and eager, pushing every button to make you squirm in his grasp. Your orgasm comes embarrassingly quick – maybe because you haven’t gotten off in ages, only miserable masturbation sessions and poor attempts at faking your orgasm made it feel real. Paul never cared enough to actually get you off – but now…

You aren’t ready for him. You squirm in his grasp when the pressure becomes too much, and he soothes you, two fingers still buried in your soaked cunt. You feel so dirty, so wrong right now – you are cumming on the fingers of your boyfriend’s absent father, and you love every second of it. 

Post-orgasm clarity makes you whiny and sobby, and you whimper in his shoulder when he gently lifts you in his hands. God, you’re adorable, and he knows that he just scrambled your brain with that orgasm – it’s good, really, he might just want to keep your pretty head nice and empty for him. Not like you would ever need to think in his presence, the colonel can handle everything in- and out- of bed. 

König holds you close, not allowing you to scramble away no matter how embarrassed you are. You are his precious thing, with a pouty face, and he will do everything in his power to make you squirm on his fingers again and again before he makes you his wife for good. 

So impulsive, maybe this is why his son is such an asshole – taking the worst traits of his father. 

— Don’t cry, Schatzen. You’re okay, it felt good, didn’t it? 

— W…we shouldn’t have. Shit. I’m sorry, it was a m…god, I need to tell Paul. 

— I’ll tell him. 

— No! — I will tell my asshole of a son that you’re my girl now, ja? And then I will take you to the bedroom, so we can fuck. 

— I need to return to my dorm. 

— And then I will dine you properly, okay? Sorry, Liebling, I know I should court you before all of this…but we can afford to go a bit off board, ja? 

He is smiling, so smitten and obsessed over just having you cum on his fingers once – you don’t have the heart to say no. Never did. You’re a good, proper girl, and Paul was never treating you right anyway. You feel dirty, yes, but somehow, it is almost right. 

He peppers your face with kisses, like a dog lapping its tongue all over your skin – you’re so concentrated on the warmth of his strong, seasoned body that you don’t even look in the direction of the doorway to the kitchen. 

Paul, however, looks straight at you, disheartened and shocked. 

— W…what the fuck, dad?! König laughs, kissing you once again – deep, hot, with tongue and loud, sloppy sounds of your mouth pressing into one another. You’re stuck in place, still caged in his arms like a precious little pet you are. 

— She’ll make a good step mom, ja? 

You don’t even register his hands slowly caressing your fingers as if he already tries to check the ring sizes. 

#cod #konig x reader #yandere konig #konig #cod x reader #call of duty #cod x you #yandere cod #konig mw2 #reader insert #yandere x reader

[neteyamsilly]

i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 3

summary ;; Sullys stick together. You learn the hard way what happens when you don't. PART 2 | PART 4 pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; descriptions of blood and violence incoming, beware! shout out to the ppl who predicted the stuff in this chapter LMAO so um... i couldnt tag everybody who asked when i said i would... there's apparently a limit to how many people you can tag. please forgive me 😭 im not taking any tagging requests anymore since i cant do it. so sorry about that,,,, seriously also, thank you so much for 1160 followers! i still cant fucking believe it... daddy issues solidarity 🤙🏻🤙🏻

“Hi there Corporal, you hear me? Yeah, I know you do. As much as I’m charmed by the fatherly love I could give you a big old sloppy wet kiss, we have unfinished business.”

Rain covered the rustling of clothes and the click-clacks of readjusted weapons as concentrated silence hung in the air, thick and heavy like the morning mist swallowing up the forest.

No answer. 

What face could your parents be making right now? Heartbeat in your ears, you tried to hide your shame by looking down, but a jerk on your queue set you straight. the avatar holding you digging his gun sharper in your neck.    

“What, cat got your tongue all of a sudden?” The leader’s stare found yours. “Let me give you a quick remedy.” 

They’d linked your device into another for the sound to be relayed outside and the voice detection range could be wider, in other words, they wanted your father to hear what was happening to you. Your braid was yanked as if the one pulling it wanted to snap it right off your skull, no amount of training could stop the scream torn out of you — all the show just for him. 

The line was deadly still, save for some rustling, crackling static that you could have easily mistaken for hissing.

A ghost of a smile shadowed the man’s face, he extended his rifle to tip your chin up. “Guess we’re gonna have to be louder than that to wake daddy up sweetheart.” 

“Stop!” Father yelled, the unexpected timing of it made you jump. That earned him a group chuckle from the avatars around you. “Stop.”

He talked. He didn’t leave you to fend for yourself in this. Thank Eywa!

“That was fast,” the captor behind you said. 

“Thought you’d have forgotten English by now, playing native.”

“...Quaritch?” 

Quaritch. That awful, awful man from the stories your mother killed? Spider’s father? But… But he was dead. How could sky people know how to cheat death?

“In the flesh.” 

Father’s voice wavered, you’d think he was scared if you didn’t know any better. “That’s impossible.”

“Back from the grave just for you, Jake.”

“Then I’ll just have to put you right back where you belong.”

The squad of avatars openly laughed at that, boisterous, confident, arrogant. 

This was Toruk Makto they were openly mocking. None of them would last for one minute in front of him and yet—

“Quite the teary lovers reunion we’re havin’ here, but you got busy while I was gone, huh?” He looked down at you again, yellow eyes filled with mirth. “I have this tiny bird here we plucked right out of the air. Imagine my surprise to learn she’s yours. Is this the only one, or you got yourself a litter now?”

Silence again. 

“What do you want?”

“Straight to the point as always.” The smug smile momentarily twitched into an unamused, withheld resentment. This man was nearing the end of his capacity to keep taunting. “I don’t think I’ll tell yet. You know I love to be a tease.”

Your ears rotated upwards in treacherous hope at your father's next words. “If you touch one hair on my daughter’s head I swear to god—”

“You exchanged your god for this shithole, Jake. Let’s not kid ourselves now.” Any hint of playing around was gone, now, eyes fixated on something on the ground ahead. “Your daughter will be my guest for a while. Think of it as summer vacation. Don’t worry, unlike the Na’vi, we’re very hospitable.” His thumb brushed over a button. “Until next time.”

“Fucking bastard—”

With one beep, the call was over. Quaritch was touching the band around his neck this time. “Iron Sky, Blue on Actual. We are standing by for extract, over.” 

You began to tussle against the avatar behind your back. “No! No! Let me go!” 

“Be advised. We're bringing in a high value prisoner.”

“Dad’s really gonna flay her alive this time, I can’t wait.” Lo’ak, positioned just behind the flap of the tent to not be seen from the outside as he peeked with one eyeball just in case, was watching his parents vehemently yell at each other in whispers that started out loud, but got hushed probably to not reach him and his siblings. Aggressive limb gestures were flying in the air, and at one point, his mom had tried to run off somewhere and was forcefully stopped. 

Dad was currently pacing around like a wild animal with one hand permanently stuck rubbing his face, and mom turned away from him, holding her forehead. “They’re really going at it, huh?

Kiri was not amused with his insistence to breach their privacy. “What’s so interesting about watching this kind of thing?”

“Catharsis?” He remarked in English, feeling sophisticated. “You remember Spider talking about it? Purification and emotional cleansing through relief that you’re not going through the horrible tragedy, the character on stage is.” 

“You’re normally so dumb.” Lo’ak bore his fangs at her matter-of-fact tone of voice. “Your brain only comes back on when it’s about chaos.”

“I’m petty, and what about it?” A tilt of his head to dare Kiri to ask for her point, then his attention was thwarted by an incomprehensible cry from his mother. She was pushing dad from his arms, furious like Lo’ak had never seen before as the upset man tried to hold her more. “Look at mom and dad breathing fire at each other! You think they’re discussing how to punish her?”

“Stop spying already skxawng, mom will be angry if she sees you. We’re supposed to be in bed.”

“Shut up, I’m trying to listen here!” His ears were tilting at every angle to make out any words that reached to him as nothing but a cluster of broken sounds. “Why did they have to go far?” 

“Because they wanted to be away from peeping toms like you?”

“And you’re still here too, so?” Lo’ak gave his sister a meaningful look. “I know you wanna see too.”

“Ugh!” Kiri shoved out her tongue at him, eyes dead. “And it’s not funny, by the way! They are fighting. Stop being happy about it.”

He knew they were fighting about his older sister, and that she’d get all the heat and fallout from it the moment she was back. Lo’ak’s head was full of what he could get out of it, or what to ask her for in return for helping her out in her detention. So satisfying to be the sibling who wasn’t in trouble. He should do it more, actually. “It is funny when it’s not about me.” 

“You’re sick for taking joy in another’s suffering.”

“Oh, I’m doomed, then.” Kiri took whatever fat was on his thin arm between her thumb and forefinger, and twisted. Lo’ak had to blink away the tears that rushed to his eyes, snatching his limb away from the displeased girl and pushing her away in return — he was annoyed at how much that hurt, why was that so damaging for no reason? “Yeouch! What the hell?”

“Will it kill you to practice mindfulness once in a while?” 

He raised his voice’s pitch to mock the wobbly, ear-scratching whine of yours, and exaggerated his body movements to match, too. “I hate you!”  

“Gross.” She tried to shove him, he caught her hands in the air, pushing her back and getting the spiteful annoyance of his sister as a result. “Dad was actually hurt by that.” Lo’ak’s eyes could roll down the hills by themselves the way that sounded, but Kiri, as always, was bothered so inexplicably. “I don’t like this. I have a bad feeling.”

That bad feeling was the herald of dad’s upcoming cranky ill-temper and what would follow after you inevitably had to come crawling back home with tail between your legs, Neteyam dragging you from the scruff of your neck. Lo’ak was refusing to sleep so he could enjoy the fight. 

“Me personally, am over the moon, ikran duty is so gonna be off my hands. For months.” He halted at the idea that just went off in his head, tail swishing with the hype. “I wanna tell Spider. I’ll go get him.”

“Absolutely not. You sneak off now and they’ll laser-focus all the anger on you!” Kiri was pointing a warning hand at him, but slowly lowered it, one corner of her mouth twitching up. She was holding back amusement. “Hey, you know what? Nevermind, you can go. I want you to go. I have to see this.”

“Ha-ha.” Lo’ak’s tail stuttered, losing enthusiasm. “Attempted murder, much?”

“Guys, what’s going on…”

Upon the unexpected voice that wobbled its way into their conversation, they both looked down to see Tuk gripping her weaved blanket with one hand and dragging it on the floor as she made her way to them, the other rubbing her eyes one by one so sleep dripping from them would fly away.

“See, you woke her up! What do we do now?”

“You woke her up by yelling, why is it my fault now?”

“I didn’t, you—”

“Did too.”

“Did not.”

“Did too.”

“Did n—”

“Guys…” Tuk pulled on Kiri’s hand, and the foreign object she was clutching the whole time distracted Lo’ak. It must have dug into the older one’s skin that she carefully picked it up to inspect. The ear pieces they took off before they went to sleep. This one was Kiri’s.  “Neteyam’s calling. You didn’t hear…”

Grinning, Lo’ak snatched it up and skipped backwards and put it in his own ear, ignoring Kiri’s hushed yells to give it back now and the groans about ruining it with his stinky, cheesy earwax. He had to keep bouncing around, the girl was chasing him around the tent. “Bro! Tell her she’s sooo dead. Dad’s literally keeping guard in front of the tent—”

“Lo’ak, quit it.” Neteyam’s tremulous answer was harsh. Lo’ak’s smile wavered as he dodged Kiri’s arm and jumped over discarded cups on the floor, knocking over wooden spoons. “I need you to tell me what’s happening over there.”

“Aw, baby’s so scared to come back she needs to make a game plan first?” He laughed, slapping Kiri’s hands away. “I’ll only tell if she gives back my karambit knife.”

His older brother sighed, a bit too exasperated. 

“Yeah, I’m not letting that one go and I’m also making it your problem—”

“Lo’ak, she isn’t here.”

He stopped dead in his tracks. “What?”

“She isn’t here. I couldn’t find her.” Kiri bumped into him, unable to stop herself at the right time to hit the brakes due to how abruptly Lo’ak had stilled. They’d almost tumbled over. “Dad told me to wait until he contacts her and I’ve been waiting for minutes. Now tell me what’s going on over there.”

“Bro, you’re serious?”

“Why wouldn’t I be serious, skxawng!” 

He turned to Kiri in disgusted discomfort, who had damn-near glued her own ear to his to hear better. “Forget months, I’ll be free for years. Dad’s not gonna let her take one step off the camp anymore.”

The girl would stomp her foot if she was a couple years younger. “What’s this about?”

And Neteyam would shake Lo’ak from the neck for ignoring him this long while he was fussing. “Tell me already you—!”

“They’re having a fight bro.” He leaned better to peep outside the tent. “Yeah.”

“She came back? Why didn’t you tell me?”

It was uncommon for Neteyam to completely disregard the previous input he’d been given. Lo’ak didn’t understand this level of anxiety. “Are you having a brain fart? Would we be having this conversation if she was here? It’s mom and dad who are fighting.”

It wasn’t that serious — on the contrary, his sister was quite simple to understand. She didn’t want to be found and had changed her place of hiding. End of story. The golden boy’s worrywart nature was keeping him from reasoning. 

“Don’t be a smartass.” Lo’ak practically felt Neteyam’s want to land a loud smack on his back. “Were they only able to reach her, then? Is that why they’re fighting?”

“You’re asking me?—”

The older boy began to grumble under his breath. “This is why I called Kiri.”

Said girl’s ears perked up over picking her name from the static-surrounded line. Lo’ak snorted. “Ouch, bro.”

Kiri shook him from the elbow. “Me? What about me?”

“Great title for your autobiography.”

Kiri raised her arms to give him a beating and Lo’ak was already bolting away from anywhere near her vicinity. The siblings didn’t even take notice of the line with Neteyam going dark as they focused on their own play-scuffle for a while. 

Until Lo’ak bumped into someone.

It wasn’t Tuk. 

Shoulders pulled into himself, he turned around torturously freaked out to find dad standing there like a ghost, his tactical vest packed to the brim and gun hanging from his back the way they wore their bows. 

The blue of his skin had faded into an ashier tone, amber eyes wide and bloodshot, the veins on the normally put together Olo’eyktan’s forehead were bulging, even a socially clueless person would pick up something was seriously wrong. He commanded cold authority of the battlefield simply by the way he stood, immediately triggering Lo’ak into soldier mode.  

He took a few steps back, chin hanging low at the lightless, unblinking stare his father pushed down on him. “Sir.”

All the sleepiness that had Tuk unresponsive and nodding off through Lo’ak and Kiri’s push-and-pull was knocked out of her at the sight, she was now unnerved and frightened. “Dad?”

The man’s intensity was somehow eased by his youngest’s reaction, but he held back from taking her in his arms like he normally would to comfort her, didn’t even care to remark on how they were supposed to be sleeping — how they’d woken their little sister up, instead focusing on Lo’ak. “I want you all to listen well. Your mother and I are heading out for a minute and your grandmother will be with you soon — Neteyam is Oscar-Mike to come back here. Stay put and don’t go anywhere, understand?” His finger pointed accusingly at him. “Don’t cause trouble. Looking at you boy, what I’m saying here is Marine proof. I’m at the end of my wits here, don’t even think about slipping a tail out of this tent.” 

The potent severity of whatever the hell was making him this agitated to the point of a voice so hoarse it was unrecognizable got the wheels in Lo’ak’s head whirring. “What’s happening, dad?”

“One child!” The thundering shout came down on him with the force of a falling mountain, making Lo’ak jump out of his skin. “I need one child of mine to listen to me without asking any questions today!” Dad’s voice broke when Tuk whined, he shut his eyes as if he was in physical pain, and flexed his jaw, shaking his head and pulling the girl in from her shoulders to soothe her. Still no direct hugging. “Jesus Christ.”

“I’m sorry sir,” Lo’ak said immediately, distraught by the over-the-top reaction, hands unknowingly curling into fists by his sides. Whenever that sky people word ‘Jesus’ slipped from dad not having any control between the border of his two languages, the boy knew it was demanding gravitas. “I heard you CFB.”

“Good.” He thinned his lips. “Kiri, please.”

Lo’ak frowned at dad basically asking for her to play her brother’s keeper in Neteyam’s absence in two simple words.

She nodded. “I know dad.”

He caught a glimpse of his mother running in the distance, her father’s bow in her hand. 

Just what was happening? What had you done? 

Eywa, it had to be sky people. 

Dad saw the realization in his face. “Stay,” he emphasized, one final time before he was also gone with the wind. 

Lo’ak wouldn’t have obeyed if it wasn’t for his grandmother arriving just in time, keeping them busy with a story about the arrival of a wounded ikran with no rider.

You realized the gunshot wound puncturing your upper abdomen was there the whole time when the avatars put first aid and later slapped a rectangular sky people bandage on it that helped clotting or whatever it was called, the pain simply not being there had played a big factor in it with the body running on pure adrenaline. 

(Crouching close to you, Quaritch had bragged, “We aren’t so bad after all, huh, sweetheart? It’s called civilization. Your daddy ever taught you about that?”

Civilization, your ass. They needed you. There was nothing well-meaning about what they were doing.

And the nickname had ticked you off, sullying the good memories of father, your head slammed into his nose in full power after a hiss.

“Now my daddy taught me that!” you spat in English as other avatars had tackled you. The man claiming to be Quaritch was smiling as he wiped away the blood trickling down his nose.

What was the point in trying to patch you up if they were going to do this, then?)

You were now a part of an elaborate trap to lure your father in. Bait. The worst position to be in. This was the kind of trouble Lo’ak would get himself in. It was too late to go back now, the mess you’d gotten yourself into had made itself known. 

Think, think! How could you get out of this?

Within the unsleeping forest’s nightly noises chirping all around you, a specific call in the air halted your train of thought. 

It was mom. 

Your parents were here. But how? How did they know where you were, exactly? Dread and expectation pooled in your heart, coexisting in a nauseating mix. 

Father must be thinking that you already caused so much trouble, they couldn’t know you were also hurt, you’d never hear the end of it.

But there was no time to think, the pain you should have been feeling was ebbing its way into your body, and she was calling in the night to inform you to get ready.

All hell broke loose when the man who held you tight from your queue was shot right from the back of his head with an arrow, collapsing right on top of you. 

You couldn’t get away in time to not be crushed by his dead body and promptly got squished between the mossy soil and him, his gun was hurting you, the wound on your stomach getting in the way of you using your core to push the body off. 

How many minutes had passed with you struggling to get him off as a hurricane of bullets roared, you didn’t know (it hurt, pain was climbing towards the threshold) — mom was able to break free from the weight of a whole AMP suit, as you’d heard as a child, a Na’vi was naturally strong, but you couldn’t even crawl out. Panic was a rope tightening around your ribcage as your breathing picked up

All of a sudden, the weight was gone, and the only remaining thing from it was the big gun left from the avatar you found yourself hugging for dear life, eyes wide as saucers. Before you could see whoever had done that, you got hoisted up right back on your feet and tried to run, only to be held tighter and pulled behind the trunk of a tree.

“Hey, it’s me, it’s me!” Clumsy, overwrought hands were cupping your cheeks and — and oh, it was your father. 

You didn’t know whether to be afraid or cry from happiness.

Once he was sure you registered it was him by staring intently in your eyes with that edge of the softness you’d missed so much, his hold shifted to your neck and around your shoulders, and he gave you a look-over, checking for any wounds. Too bad what he was searching for was behind the gun you were holding. “Are you hurt?” He shook you when you were too stunned to answer. “Are you hurt at all?”

“No,” you shook your head automatically, it was weak against the explosions of bullets raining down all around you, but father had picked it up regardless, only focusing on you for the moment.

In the darkness, nobody could see the blood running down your body, that bandage had come out at one point. 

“On my mark, we’re gonna run, okay?” He nodded to you, tomahawk axe in hand coated in a dark substance, commanding your full attention. “Follow me. Ready? Ready?”

You weren’t ready at all, stomach feeling like it was being stabbed at every heartbeat, but you couldn’t tell him that. 

Instead, you ran like hell, moored by father’s taut clutch on your forearm pulling you forward to match his incredible speed dodging roots, bushes and branches. 

Things stopped moving only when you were enveloped in mom’s embrace, consciousness almost flying off from the relief that washed over you. Kisses were peppered along your hairline and forehead, her mumbling your name in gratitude blending with your panting. Tears burned bitter in your eyes, but you couldn’t cry, not when father was looking at you like that, chest rising and falling. You instantaneously remembered why you were holding that gun at the intensity he was radiating, tail escaping between your legs and letting mom hold you. 

At least this way he wasn’t able to objurgate you.  

Over her shoulder, you saw three ikrans instead of two. Heart soaring, you were skipping towards him in pure astonishment in a heartbeat. “Hey buddy!”  

His head lowered down towards you in bird-like movements. In this angle, it looked like he was giving you a razor sharp-toothed big grin. 

“He brought us here,” your mother said. The hand you were going to pet the ikran with stopped midway at her dejected tone. “You have passed Iknimaya, I take it. On your own.”

You didn’t know what to say, feeling immense guilt at having made her this disappointed over it. If this was any normal situation, any normal fight at all, you would have shot back with, ‘Well father told me to do it.’

But you were tired. 

Your pain threshold was being threatened, and you needed to get to your grandmother before any of your parents saw the situation you were in and this escalated into the worst fight you were going to get into in your entire life. 

Father’s only response was a dead cold, “C’mon, we gotta get outta here.”

He didn’t talk to you after that. Not one word. 

Squatting on an ikran’s back on a flight with an abdominal gunshot wound you were trying to hide was not an option unless you wanted to pass out midair and was looking for a free dive, so you were all but hugging the poor thing’s neck like a monkey, trusting him to follow your parents while you concentrated on mentally fighting to level out the pain. 

Nonsensical as it was to believe the gun stuck between your ikran’s neck and your stomach was acting as a tampon to lessen the bleeding, you were concerned with how dumb it must have looked to father and mom, how incompetent they must think of you that their daughter didn’t even know how to ride right. 

Got an ikran for nothing. 

Would they be less proud of you seeing how funny it appeared, nevermind that it was to contain your pain all the while not trying to faint?

But no words were exchanged about it. 

Father clamping up right after he’d made sure you weren’t hurt (yikes) had resulted in this awkward trip succumbing in total silence. They had sandwiched you between them, only necessary space for the ikrans to beat their wings freely left, so close that you could discern the scariest look on father yet, deepening the lines of age in his face while simultaneously expressing his barely contained desire to kill someone. 

A ticking time bomb. 

Forget speaking at all, but not only did he never address you until now, he didn’t even look in your direction for once. You knew because staring at him for five minutes straight for him to just acknowledge your existence had proven to be unfruitful. 

And the tears involuntarily streamed down your cheeks with how utterly worthless and alone that made you feel, trapped in this agony you couldn’t help but hide because he’d think you didn’t deserve to complain after bringing it upon yourself. You would rather bite your tongue and bear the pain than stay dreading his reaction. 

Yeah, no, he couldn’t know. 

Mom was looking over at you every one minute to make sure you were okay after her ears picked up on your sniffles, arrows of worry shot from her side sinking down your skin every single time, and you hated to make her this way. 

Your ikran kept comforting you through tsaheylu until you landed.

Father had promptly jumped down, agile and making haste away somewhere, passing you by and giving the cold shoulder. You all but slid off your own ikran, managing to make the gun stay where it should be, as you couldn’t help but weakly call out to him for one drop of consolation. “Father…”

He didn’t stop for you, quickening his steps, but his ears twitched, the tail beating the air ferociously halting and lowering before it returned to the previous motions, and those were the only indications that he’d heard it Lima Charlie.

The man just didn’t want to talk to you.    

And you had to make yourself believe it wasn’t the emotional devastation that had you falling down, but the wound sucking out all your energy now that you had gotten to safety. 

“Ma’ite?” Mom rushed to you. “Ma’ite, what’s wrong? What is it?”

“I’m okay, mom, it’s okay.” You were sitting on the floor, cross-legged. Thank goodness you still had the unbreakable willpower (and not the fear of Eywa put into you by father) to hold your shit together. “I’m okay. Just tired. My knees buckled. Weak, you know?” You swallowed, smiling. “I’m just… Just resting.”

Her gaze full of concern studied you, zeroing in on the gun you clung on for dear life against your stomach. Her hands lovingly brushed your hair, gripped your shoulders and elbows even though you were disgustingly clammy all over. It was grounding, anchoring within the ocean of pain washing over you in waves. 

“Oh, why are you sweating so much? You’re freezing.” You clutched the gun harder in a panic when she grasped it, most likely to put it away. It was the wrong reaction to have, but you weren’t exactly in the position to function healthily. 

Mom, as any other person would, got suspicious from it, her eyes flying up to your owlish ones — blanked out like a frightened animal. “You’re fine now,” she whispered, thankfully attributing it to how disturbed you must be, still not out of survival mode. “You are safe, my daughter. Mom is here.” She cupped your cheek, but every touch to your body hurt now, even when it was away from the gaping wound, still gushing blood, trickling down your hips and getting you scared that it’d be discovered once you stood up. “I’m here.” She searched your soul to know just why you were grimacing at her attempts of comforting. “I will take this now, you do not need it anymore.”

You snapped out of the gradually darkening gray haze mom’s lulling was laying you down gingerly into. “No, please don’t,” your breathing hitched. She was going to see. She couldn’t see. You had to avoid this somehow, as long as you could. Grandmother’s tent. You would make it, you had to.  “I’ll… I’ll just sit here for a while, okay? I need to just… take a small break, and then I’ll… Can you go back? I’ll follow later. Father is angry, I don’t—”

“Nonsense.” Incredulous and enraged suddenly about something you couldn’t put a finger on, and before you could stop her, she tried to haul you up with her by gripping your upper arms — colors exploded behind your eyelids, getting you you to lose consciousness for two seconds, your vision flooding back in a starry kaleidoscope. When mom’s voice reached your ears, it was in staccato exclaims your ears were ringing too much to discern. She was shaking you. 

You weren’t able to sit up straight anymore, leaning forward — mom had caught you, utterly confused and panicked at the same time. And then your head was lying on the crook of her elbow resting on her legs she’d tucked under herself. The moment you’d switched from sitting to straight up lying down was missing from your memories. 

A baby being cradled. Yes, this is exactly what it was like. Gentle arms surrounded you amidst the pulsating sea of agony. 

Your body was letting go, but your arms were vices around the gun, still holding that last line. Don’t let go. Don’t let go. They can’t know. Father will be so mad if he learns. “‘m okay… ‘st restin’…”

When your eyes cleared enough for the surroundings to be only a bit blurry, your mom was looking at the hand she’d just tried to take away the gun with, caked with your blood that had stained it, out of it and perplexed like she didn’t want to believe it. 

Her gut-wrenchingly stunned numbness sent the misery clawing its way inside into overdrive, pulling your consciousness down to the earth from the clouds it was ascending to. “Not mine,” you forced out, but it came out as begging. Everything was falling apart. The plan was so simple, why couldn’t you do anything right? “Not mine. Please. Mom, it’s okay.” 

“No…” Mumbling, she started sharply swaying back and forth, and with one brutally vigorous attack, she ripped the gun away from your arms, and hurled it away — then it was over. Your sob wasn’t due to the motion hurting you, it was all entirely for the broken wail of your mother at seeing the bloodied mess, tears spilling from her eyes as she reached down to press down at the pouring liquid. “No! No! Oh Great Mother! Why did you hide this! Oh, my daughter!” 

“No, mom, I’m fine, it’s nothing. Not my blood. Not my blood, okay?” You reached up weakly and wiped at her cheeks with trembling fingers, your heart got crushed worse than the pain could beat you down at her grief — lungs constricting. Where was all the air?  “I’ll get up. I’ll go to grandmother, don’t cry. Just resting.”

Frantically looking around, she yelled, “Jake!—” but her voice didn’t quite come out, breathy as if she’d been punched in the ribcage seconds prior.

A heartbeat’s worth of nothingness, after which you were full-on freaking out. Only one thought: Father will be angry. 

“No!” You shrieked, and blood swelled in one strong pump against mom’s fingers. She looked down at you in anguish, pupils blown wide, arm tightening around you as if you were a flailing bird. “Don’t tell him! Don’t tell father! He’ll really kill me for this—”

“No, no no no,” she shook her head, frenzied, tone cracked from beginning to end. “Do not say that. Don’t you ever say that—”

But you were struggling in her arms, wanting nothing but to crawl away into a hole, no reason registering whatsoever, only instinct. “He’ll be so angry,” you begged, pleading, pink spit bubbling at the corners of your mouth. The sound of gurgling accompanying the words you forced your whole body to form. “You can’t tell him — you can’t! He already hates me!”

The more you thrashed around and kicked your legs, the more you bled.

“Please, Great Mother!” The more mom lost her mind, hissing and howling hysterically, crazed, hugging you tighter and rocking. “Jake! Jake! Ma’Jake!” She put her temple against yours. “Not my daughter, please, Eywa…”

Why was she being like this? It wasn’t that serious! You were okay!

Delirium claimed you hot as she kept calling his name and her unbreakable hold on you kept you in a cage of a mother’s despair. In your feverish mind, a threat to your life was coming. Weakness spread like wildfire around your body and chipped away at the pain, slowly picking it apart to replace it with drowsiness. “Don’t call ‘im,” you continued to repeat, over and over again. “I’m just taking a break. Don’t call him over. He’s gonna be angry. He’ll hate me. He hates me. Please, mom.”

The sentences slurred together, shortened, wilted away pitifully, your voice died down, tongue deteriorating into only echoing, “He hates me.” A withered away, old flute. 

Your ikran was bellowing in the distance and you looked. The torches on cave walls were illuminating him and finally revealing to you his beautiful color scheme.    

And then your father was here, falling to his knees right beside you, his glistening wide eyes flying everywhere around your body — tracing all the blood, hands hovering above you as if he didn’t know where to start piecing a shattered vase back together.   

It was over.

Fully expecting the chastising you were about to receive to shake the floating mountains so bad the enemy would be able to spot you, you began to apologize — pride be damned, this battle be lost, you’d failed anyway. “Please don’t be mad,” you shuddered, meek and unsteady, tunnel vision flickering at the edges only perceiving him. “It’s my fault—I’m sorry—please don’t be angry—”

“Stop talking,” he ordered, rough and harsh, eyebrows knitted tightly, and out of breath — probably because of how hard he was trying to hold the anger back. You knew. That had to be it. “Don’t speak.”

Ah of course. This was only natural when he had refused to utter a single word at you the whole way, denying you the temporary comfort of a simple glance. 

Even the hand he pressed down so ruthlessly firm on your stomach it might as well be a boulder pinning you down was meant to be punishment, the whines your unbreathing lungs couldn’t stop turned into yowls — you hadn’t even noticed your hands were wrapped around father’s wrist in an effort to push him away, scratching him, but he only added his other hand on top of the other in return.

“Hang on, sweetheart, I got you, please hang on a little longer,” he pleaded, but you were already too far gone, Eywa was cruel to have plugged your ears to the endearment you’d been dying to hear from him for so long, making the last things you were aware father said to you the fact that he didn’t even want to hear you talking. 

And you fulfilled his wish. 

taglist: @ihonestlydontknowwhattonamethis@alohastitch0626 @jackiehollanderr @lucciera @qvrcll @iloveavatar @velvtcherie @ssc7514 @goldenmoonbeam @neteyamforlife @itsluludoll @jakesullys-bitch @blubrryy @sully-stick-together @arminsgfloll @alice121804 @noname2246 @justthingzsblog @eywamygoddess @m-1234 @ellabellabus07 @hellok1ttycake @dakotali @bluefire12348 @abbersreads @yellooaaa @aimsro @octavias-next-meat-bite @nikqdn @nao-cchi @spicycloudsalad @yeosxxx @heybiatchz @winxschester @elegantkidfansoul @eichenhouseproperty @kakimakiloh @dueiosy @liyahsocorro @dimplesxx @tigresslily @n8ivatar @strnqer @lillybbyy @jakesullyssluttt @r3dc4ndy @myheartfollower @gcldtom @bunnyrose01 @aceofheartzzz @ghoulbli @slasherfcker505 @ducks118 @megsthings @graykageyama @gwolf92

#dad!jake x daughter!reader #dad!jake sully x reader #dad!jake sully x daughter!reader #jake sully x reader #jake sully x daughter!reader #sully family x reader #mom!neytiri x reader #neteyam x sister!reader #neytiri x daughter!reader #lo'ak x sister!reader #kiri x sister!reader #irma: 📝 #📖: light

[fairlyang]

Easy money I 🕷️

in which your roomie needs your help for a shoot

w/c: 3.1K

pairing: pornstaroomie!miguel x f!reader

tags: 18+ smut. tension, recording, groping, fingering, squirting

notes: all my readers loved this series and might’ve been peer pressured for a part 3 but I’m kinda excited to write it :D gonna post this rn and maybe part 2 tmrw, finish up all my part 3’s soon hopefully

part two — part three

I heard a knock on my door so I lowered my music from my airpods. "Come in!" I yell and turn to look at my laptop.

I hear the door open and Miguel clears his throat, I turn around to look at him and raise an eyebrow, "what's up?"

"I need something from you...." He says and takes a step inside.

"Like what?" I ask and he takes another step forward.

"You're gonna have to hear me out alright?" He says and I narrow my eyes at him.

"Okay..." I say and take my airpods off leaving them on my desk before turning back to look at him, giving him my full attention.

"I need you to step in for tonight's shoot..." he says and I burst out laughing.

"Are you fucking joking?" I say and shake my head. Is this man serious?

"I need your help Y/n..." he says nearing the edge of my bed and I groan.

"Why me?"

"The girl I was gonna shoot with canceled on me last minute and all the girls I usually shoot with are unavailable." He explains and I blink.

"Andddd you are already here...." He adds and i scoff.

"Not really sure I'd wanna expose myself like that Miguel." I say and stand up, walking over to my bed and plop down on it.

He sighs and sits on the edge of it and looks at me with pleading eyes. "Please? For me?"

"And the camera would hide your face, so unless you have any noticeable tattoos on your lower body then I think you'd be in the clear." He says and I bite my lip. Well there lies the problem...

I blink looking at him in silence making him scoff as he widens his eyes slightly then his lips tug into a smirk. "Where do you have it?" he asks and I feel my face heat up.

"Uh that one spot that's like lower, inner hip..." I say quietly and turn my gaze to my window.

There was really no reason for me to be acting like this- but that tattoo wasn't exactly somewhere that most people in my life know.... So maybe... just maybe...

"No face?" I ask and he nods.

"You know I don't even show my face-" he says with a small smile.

"I know but I don't know if it's different for the girls you record with." I say and shrug.

"It depends on them mainly, I'm not gonna force anyone I work with to show their face if they don't want to." He says softly and I nod slowly.

"And you wanna do this like right now?" I ask and he nods again.

"Jesus-" I mutter and run a hand over my hair.

"Up to you but you know I have a lot of loyal subscribers and make decent money off this..." he says and I chuckle.

"Because the girls love your voice and body." I say and he smirks making me regret my choice of words. And queue to him being obnoxious about it...

"I-"

"Think so huh?" he teases in a cocky tone making me groan.

"Fuck off." I say and grab a random stuffed animal from my bed and throw it at his face.

He laughs and holds it, it was so small compared to his hands. Oh god-

I mean of fucking course I've noticed how fine he is- it was the first thing I noticed when I was interviewing people to be my roommate, he was the hottest man that came in needing a place to stay.

I didn't just decide on him because he was hot but because he seemed chill and not like someone that would murder me in my sleep.

But I never made a move on him, neither did he. We've just always had some type of tension that neither of us ever paid attention to... I guess until now..

"So what exactly did you plan to shoot?" I ask and let out a sigh.

He grins and scoots closer now sitting by my legs as they were stretched out. "I was thinking fingering."

I nod and bite my lip, "hmm.."

"Up to you I won't force you but just think of the fact that you'd be getting paid to get fingered." He says and I snicker.

Sounds like easy money...

And I'd get an orgasm out of it...

"50% of whatever the video makes will go to you." He says and I bite my lip.

"You're really laying it on thick there Miguel... you that desperate?" I tease and he playfully rolls his eyes.

"Yeah actually, so just let me know within the next hour before I just decide to do a solo vid." He says and stands up.

I sigh and nod, "I'll... think about it...." He smirks and gives me a wink before opening the door and walking out, closing it behind him.

I sigh and lay down on my bed, should I?

I mean there's no denying the fact that I always listen in when he has someone over to record... or even checked out a few of his videos on pornhub...

maybe even possibly masturbated to a few of his audios... or the ones where he fucks himself with a fleshlight...

Letting out those incredible moans for everyone's very own pleasure, how selfless.

But he wanted to record for onlyfans which was for the ones who specifically pay to view his content, which apparently was a lot and the thought alone was a little nerve wrecking.

What if someone I've been with before recognized my tattoo and tells people I know? I'd be fucking done for and I'd just die on the spot of pure embarrassment.

But the money- how could I say no to that kind of money? Especially when seeing the views just his previews on pornhub get-

I'd be so fucking stupid to pass this opportunity...

Fuck it.

I get up from my bed and walk to my door quickly opening it before stepping out onto the hallway. I then do the walk of shame and walk to Miguel's room.

I made my mind up a little too fast god I'm not gonna hear the end of this from him-

I step in front of his door and knock twice before hearing a laugh. I groan and cross my arms across my chest, patiently waiting for him.

He opens the door with a wide smile but before I could even say a word my eyes trailed down his chest then to his abdomen. A small happy trail going down caught my eye as a pair of grey sweatpants hugged his hips perfectly.

God he looked so good...

Wait- how the fuck did he change so fast?

"Did you just assume I was going to say yes?" I ask, quickly looking up at him.

He shrugs and opens his door wide, motioning for me to step inside. I roll my eyes but walk in nonetheless, seeing that he was indeed very desperate for this. And apparently eager.

"I knew it'd be something hard for you to say no to." He says and shrugs, closing the door behind him.

"And I had an idea for more anonymity..." he says and walks past me.

He walks over to his desk and picks up two masks, robber masks. "We could put these on." He says and throws me a pink one.

I catch it and look down at it, cute.

"Just casually had these huh?" I mutter and play with it between my fingertips.

It only had three holes, obviously for the eyes and mouth. It honestly didn't shock me too much that he had these especially considering he didn't make content showing his face at all.

"Alright ready?"

"Where are we doing this? Should I change? Should I put makeup on-"

"Calm down-" he says and laughs, shaking his head at my sudden worries.

"We're doing this in my bathroom, I already set the camera and lights up." He explains and I nod.

"As for your clothes if you want I can give you one of my shirts and you can just leave your panties on." He says looking me up and down.

I wearing a SZA shirt with Cookie Monster pajama pants.... Yeah I definitely could've changed but maybe got a tiny bit excited..

He walked over to his dresser and picked the first one of top and then tossed it over to me. I caught it and unfold it to reveal a Nirvana tee. I shrug and walk over to his bathroom with him right on my tail.

I walk in then stop and quickly turn around to point a finger at him, "you're waiting- you can wait a few more minutes there O'Hara." He chuckles and backs up letting me close the door.

I quickly take off my tee shirt and put the one he gave me on. I leave my shirt on the sink then I slip out of my pj pants and realize it wasn't a big deal if he watched because he was going to see it all right now anyway.....

I look in the mirror and take a deep breath, I was really going to do this.... We were really going to do this...

I then take notice of the ring light and tripod that were right in front me. This was getting so real so fast and it was making me more nervous than I expected.

I breathe in then breathe out. I do it a couple more times and feel some nerves leave my body but some still lingering around.

I turn around and walk towards the door, I open it wide and Miguel stands up from his bed and walks over. "Finally." He teased and I chuckle.

"My bad." I mutter, turning back around and walk to the sink, leaning against it as Miguel walks in.

"You're good, don't worry it'll be fine." He reassured and gives me a small smile.

He walks over to his tripod and sets his phone on it and goes to the camera. He turns to me and motions for me to stand in front of the camera. I nod and do so, leaning against the seat with my nerves growing every second.

"Alright we're gonna start, if you need me to stop at any given moment just tap my thigh or anywhere twice okay?" He says and I nod.

"Audibly please?" He says and I chuckle.

"Yes I understand."

"Okay good." He says and throws me the pink robber mask.

I move all my hair to my back then slip it on. I fix the holes to align to my mouth and eyes then see Miguel doing the same. "This'll be fun." He mutters with a slight smirk on his face then he presses the button to record.

He walks over to me and gently puts his hands on my cheeks then leans in. I lean up and he leans down removing the last amount of space between us and crashes his lips onto mine. I kiss back and put a hand to his jaw and the other on his neck.

I then feel his hands slide down my body, at first staying at my waist, gripping my skin softly through the shirt until his hands go lower and his fingertips are playing with the hem of his shirt, near my ass.

He slid his tongue in my mouth and continues toying w his shirt, bringing it up slowly as our tongues fight for dominance but I stood no chance. Suddenly I feel a hard smack against my ass making me moan in his mouth.

He smiles and pulls away just to go down and start leaving open mouthed kisses on my neck. I sigh and tilt my head to the side as he slightly moves the mask to leave a mark where he wanted. He sucked on my skin then licked it softly before leaving a kiss on it.

I smile and grab his head, making sure he stayed in place as he kept playing with the skirt. He pulls away again and this time bringing the hem of the shirt up, slowly. He turns me around slowly so my behind is what the camera will see and lifts the shirt completely over my ass.

Another smack.

Then to the other cheek.

Another smack on each one, definitely already making them red and it seemed like he wanted to keep going because of the noises that were leaving his mouth. Such delicious groans.

He keeps pulling it up, exposing my entire bare back to the camera but my tits to him. He quickly brings it up and over my head, throwing it on the floor then quickly cups my tits and squeezes.

I gasp when he pinches both nipples then quickly turns me around so my ass was on his already hard bulge. His hands continue squeezing and I felt purely at bliss, heaven on earth even.

I lay my head back against his chest which makes him lean down and leave a kiss on my neck then suck gently on the skin as his hands continued kneading my tits.

His right hand then lets go of my boob and slowly trails down my stomach, as if easing me in, making me feel comfortable first. I grab on to his left arm and try to stand still, I already felt like I was going to go crazy and maybe fall over.

My fucking roommate was doing this- and he had such a good hand for these things so this was gonna be perfect.

His hand goes between my legs, gently rubbing my pussy through my panties. I spread my legs to help him out when he starts rubbing circles on my clit. I moan and buck my hips forward, already wanting more.

And he gives me just that, he starts going faster and I could feel my wetness seeping through the fabric of my little panties. "Miguel-"

He hums then rubs along my slit, my arousal already able to soak his fingers. How embarrassing.

He then removed his fingers making me whine until he pulls my panties down and lets them slide off my legs. I step out of them and kick them farther out, out of shot.

I spread my legs again and he doesn't hesitate to immediately start rubbing my clit again, not caring to ease me in anymore. He moans into my ear and dips his fingers on to my folds, my wetness enveloping them as he teases my hole making me grip harder onto his arm.

He moved that arm to grip on to my waist while I still held on to it for dear life. I couldn't trust myself to stand I knew I'd just end up falling and he was a big boy, he could handle me.

He then slid a finger in, slow at first until he slammed it in without warning. I gasped and clung on to his arm. He then started pumping in and out, deep and slow.

He started going faster, hitting deeper now until he fully stopped and added a second finger in. He started moving again, going faster and harder, making me a moaning mess as I looked down to watch in awe.

"Look how easy you're taking me baby." He murmurs in my ear and I couldn't help the whimper that came out of me.

"Feels so good-" I moan and he hums, pumping them even faster.

I felt myself clench against his fingers and listen to how fucking soaked I am, he barely even touched me..

"Rub your clit for me." He whispers and I nod, immediately bringing my right hand down to rub my clit in fast circles.

I moan out for him and he coos dirty little nothings into my ear as he starts curling his fingers up and hitting that sweet spot every time.

I was starting to feel my orgasm creep in already which had me shocked but then realized who was the one doing this to me...

"Fuck- Miguel-" I moan and lay my head back against him, he leans down to kiss my cheek oh so sweetly.

He then brings his open hand and starts pinching my left nipple, I felt my legs shake as he continued and I was slowly down because I was feeling so fucking close.

"Don't stop baby, be a good girl and keep rubbing that clit until you cum for me sweet girl." He murmurs and I whimper, clenching against his fingers as I rub my clit faster feeling that knot in my stomach about to burst.

"Miguel please- so cl-"

I dig my nails into his arms making him groan but he didn't say to stop. I felt my eyes growing hazier by the second and my thighs were trembling more and more by the second.

Suddenly I see white, I cry out and feel my climax crash and take over my body. I closed my eyes and almost fell to my knees, had Miguel strong arm not held me. My legs were trembling and Miguel's fingers were still inside, slowly fucking me through my orgasm.

I held onto him for dear life and start to calm my breathing down as I open my eyes, then quickly widening in pure shock, I had squirted all over the place.

I gasp and move my hand away from my clit, I stood silent, still in Miguel's arms in pure embarrassment. Squirting always felt so embarrassing, especially now because I didn't even mean to-

"That was probably the most perfect shoot I've done thus far." Miguel says making me scoff.

"I'm being so serious." He says finally taking his fingers out of me slowly and brings it up to his lips.

I tilt my head and look up, watching as he sucks on his fingers covered in my juices. Holy fuck.

I blink watching him as if in a trance, then he looks me directly in my eyes making me subconsciously squeeze my thighs together.

He takes them out with a plop and gives me a wide grin, "sorry but we have to do that again in the future...."

I laugh and look down embarrassed, I shrug and straighten up, "I guess we'll have to see if the people liked it..."

"I'm sure they will." He says and laughs.

"Let's get ya cleaned up then maybe we can watch a movie, if you'd like." He suggests and I look up at him and nod.

"That'd be perfect."

#miguel ohara smut #Miguel ohara #miguel 2099 #miguel x reader #atsv miguel #miguel o'hara #miguel spiderverse #miguel o hara #miguel ohara x reader #miguel ohara imagine #miguel ohara x you #miguel ohara x y/n #Miguel O’Hara smut #miguel spiderman #Spider-Man #across the spiderverse #easy money

[front-facing-pokemon]

I just found this blog so I'm jumping aboard the plushie bandwagon.

First we got Absol. (i feel like maybe i should've taken a closer-up picture but it's the face sooo)

Then a Wooloo

And, saving best for last, this Leafeon plush I own... of which I swear on my life is official merch.

I also have some more eeveelutions (plus an eevee and a few more) but: 1. I didn't want to send too many. 2. Eeveelutions are more popular so I wanted to give some other people the chance to submit their own. 3. I don't know where my Pikachu and Snivy plushies are cuz I own too many stuffed animals.

Only reason I submitted Leafeon was so I could show off this ~masterpiece~ of a plushie I own. And it's face isn't the only thing wrong with it too lol. Also I just noticed I accidentally had one of the ears hanging back but I'm too lazy to go take another photo but i hope this amuses you nonetheless.

ALRIGHT THERE'S BEEN A LOT OF YOU AS I'VE BEEN OUT WITH MY FAMILY FOR CHRISTMAS HUH

let's start with these guys. beautiful. wonderful. i do not believe that that leafeon is official merch. this statement is baffling to me. welcome to the front-facing pokémon family. i love the eyes on that absol and wooloo is one of my faves. i was rather obsessed with it when it first came out and have a whole wooloo tag on my main blog because of it. though i guess i cleared that whole thing out recently so i don't anymore

let's get the nose ratings out of the way:

↑ this is a lie. 10/10 chespin

it's very wide and also 10/10 you're being too harsh. merry day to you too

circular face indeed. did i already post this one? if i did you can have it again

clodsire be upon ye. clodsire fans this is your treat until gen 9

this is a trend now. i think tumblr just crunched this image to hell for some reason so here's what the text says:

"Felt like joining the others for front facing pokeplushies [images] I have more pokemon but its early morning and these are the plushies that are easy to access"

i have not but i imagine "a moment" has long passed by now. my apologies but apparently today was an important day or something? idk

YEAH it's super unbelievably fucked up. i think i kinda remember the circumstance being a bit dire so everyone else was more worried about either 1. protagonist getting stomped on brutally or 2. saving the world from kyurem / the bittercold. i was totally under the impression that he was dead in that moment but i guess the characters may have known that he would just come back? i seem to vaguely remember partner being surprised that he came back and being like "but we watched you die :OOO" but maybe i'm misremembering that. i do create a lot of pmd lore on my own time so i have a hard time telling the difference between canon and fanon sometimes

two a day makes the world go round! this blog started when i started college, paused for 80% of my college career and now has started back up and i just graduated college a week ago. i would say "how time flies" but it has been a very, very long year

i've said it before and i'll say it again: gen 6 is my favorite gen, so you'll be seeing lots of favor for this gen from me in the tags i'm sure. maybe gen 6 is my excuse to start doing other things here. like that stream i keep talking about

if they put meloetta as a little obscure puzzle thang in sv, i'm sure they'll do something for genesect. i hope. at least for keldeo probably. genesect i'm not sure is very popular, unfortunately, outside of the tumblr crowd. if the general public's opinion on genesect is favorable, then maybe

okay and then i tried to scroll down further in my screenshots for more asks and saw the wobbly will smith in a hospital bed Gimme a Hug, Man that i copied from the "i get a little bit genghis kanghis" post so that's it. to everyone who christmases: merry it. it is today. although it's basically over by now so! merry boxing day for tomorrow if i don't say anything tomorrow. but i probably will. now i'm gonna go queue up today's 'mons because i haven't done it yet today. see you all in a few weeks when those post

#gti spoilers #under the cut. don't look if you haven't played it it's an amazing game #not pkmn #nose ratings #about to queue up gogoat and pancham so be ready for those in a while

[fearlessmonk]

.RULES & other things.

| Tifa Lockhart |

So, I need to make a list of rules and whatnot so everyone can understand things. I've needed to make these for a while but never had the desire. Since I'm slowly remaking/reviving this blog, might as well do it the right way this time, huh?

First things first; mun is 30+. No minors. Personals, DNI.

I work a LOT. I have a life off this blog so there may be some very slow times. I'll do my best to get to everyone and everything. Do NOT rush me. My mood will vary what threads I'll respond to first, but don't think I've forgotten you! Feel free to reach out if you think I've lost a thread, but it may just be in queue.

I love writing everything - angst, smut, the works. I'd appreciate plotting a lil ahead of time, especially if it's smut/nsfw of any kind. I want Tifa to ease into it with any partners. Let's plot! I love shipping!! I love angst!! I love AUs (especially if we chat about them first!)

I try to match my partners energy when it comes to writing! I don't have many icons but I'll use the ones I do have! I'll try to match length, style, icon, etc. But I'm limited to what I have (especially when writing from a work computer!).

This blog is for FUN. Don't ruin the fun by being a jerk!

I am super crossover friendly! I'm hesitant when it comes to OCs but we can make something work! If you're interested with OCs, I have an OC blog I've dabbled in that we can talk about.

I follow the tag /fearlessmonk right now! I'm considering changing the name of my blog to something that feels a little more Tifa but it'll take some time. She's a wonderfully complex character!

More will eventually be added, but figure this is a good start!

Here are side blogs if you're interested in these characters!

OC: @amorettaof Sypha Belnades: @flamesandcrystal

#rules #going to eventually make tags and the like #here's this for now #let me know if there are other questions!! I can add to the list.

[breathplayed]

17, 29, 48, & 55 😁🫖

oh u GOT me got me lets go

(17) what is your favorite line you’ve ever written? babe plz this one is too hard..... there's too many...... I HAVE 920K WORDS ON AO3 AND ~50K INCOMING I DONT EVEN REMEMBER THEM ALL......... uuhhhhhhhh ok ok ill try to narrow a few down. it's all gonna be recent tho bc that's what i remember most + i have rly been indulging myself stylistically as of late lmao

for just ~pretty language~ my favorites rn are

"Jimin is almost too pretty to mar with mortal hands, but Jungkook finds desecration is half the fun when his hands slip lower" (folie à trois)

"Some floodgate inside him has broken, the last bastion of resistance crumbled, and now he’s a drowning man in the dead waters" (folie à trois)

“I love you,” he whimpers into Taehyung’s kiss like a prayer. Too devout; Taehyung’s hands and lips pause. Jimin’s own lip is already trembling, caught, so he lets the confessional spill like it’s the last Sunday he’ll ever see." (the losing game ch17)

"[Taehyung] used to dream, sometimes, after Jimin was gone, that he was holding him again, that he could crack open Jimin's ribcage and crawl inside to make a home beside his heart before they burned together." (the losing game ch5)

"Sometimes—in his darkest moments, on his worst nights—Jimin dreams about Taehyung carving over each and every one of his scars. Creating clean new edges to each of them, prying fingers in the wound to be as close as possible, rewriting their memories and meanings with a jagged, almost unbearable intimacy." (the losing game ch17)

"The graves we dig ourselves are often the deepest." (the graves we dig..... now thats a real throwback huh)

there's too much i could say for dialogue but.... i'm super fond of the hurtful conversations present!vmin have in tlg (especially ch14, i reread that a lot), ignite the stars ch5 (also reread that a lot), and also i love pretty much everything that comes out of taehyung's mouth in folie à trois lol

(29) give us a spoiler for one of your stories. answered here, but since this one could be answered multiple times i'll bite......... my queue tag ("i'm glad it was queue") is a play on one of my favorite lines in all of tlg that i have been excited about getting to for yeaaaarrrssss. no one but me knows the line yet (or how hurtful its context is) bc it's in one of the final chapters hehehe but it's "i'm glad it was you" ..... :')

(48) do you reread your own stories? the answer to this used to be a strong NO!!!! but that has actually changed in the last two years! i don't rly reread anything older (my writing style has changed so much + there's things i'd change about older fics esp <2020 so it's not an enjoyable experience to me, i'd just fret over editing it) but there's some newer fics i reread bc they are So written to my own taste. i think i really improved a lot getting to write a bunch in lockdown lol + started caring less about whether ppl liked the fic and just wrote for ✨Me✨ so several of those recent fics i'm happy with and do reread sometimes like a stupid idiot narcissus

The ones i've reread the most are "sit, stay" + "sea legs" + favorite parts of "ignite the stars" and my favorite parts of "the losing game". the other scattered pwp's since 2020 have gotten reread about twice each. and i recently reread WBIO for the first time since writing it in early 2020!!! mixed feelings on that one bc i felt like i would change some parts of it if i wrote it today but that's a sign ur growing and improving i suppose

(55) do you have any abandoned WIP’s? What made you abandon them? oh i have so fucking many 'WIPs' it's not even funny. there's probably like ~12 completely bullet point outlined medium length / longfics in my docs down to exact dialogue i'd write, and dozens more fic attempts that have a whole plot and ending. bc as soon as i come up with an idea i already immediately know how i want it to end. which gives me way too many Plot Bunnies that are viable to be turned into fics!!!!! two years ago i made a list of every idea i thought should at least see the light of day in threadfic form if not an actual fic and it came out to 30 fics lol (and that was cutting it down to the essentials)

the thing is, very few of my WIPs are ever 'abandoned' in my mind, it's more like... i put them in my mental freezer. on hold / on ice. and some of them are closer to the front and get taken out and rotated around and worked on more often, while others are shoved to the far back of the freezer as i say "i'll make that someday" and forget it exists til the next time im reminded of it. there's only a few that i'd actually toss in the trash (aka truly abandon and never work on again).

the ones that are definitely abandoned in that i know i dont Want to write them are all on the more domestic romcom side (think like 'meaner than mean' or 'i like us like this') i know people like those but they're the hardest thing for me to write, those were the most annoyed i've ever felt while writing, i would literally groan out loud working on them, i am rly only happy writing conflict/angst or pwp lol

tbh, if i were to be realistic with myself, i'd say most of these wip's are 'abandoned' in that i probably will never get around to finishing them. but i dont want to call them abandoned because i do like the plots, and think ppl would like them, and want to share them!!! i just think they would suck / not be fun to write. Maybe Someday i will do an archival effort and work on translating as many of them as i can into threadfic form so they see the light of day in some format and are no longer abandoned to rot in my docs... bc there's no way that most of them are ever going to be written the way i wish i could do them justice :') and then i can abandon them knowing that ppl at least got to read a vague outline of what could have been

fun fact: i opened the aforementioned list of all these ideas to count and on one of them, a fic i've been poking at since 2018, i have the note "finish this or die" next to it. guess i know which one i've picked atp 🪦

#ask game

[rookflower]

ok, so. i drew every warrior cat! here's a long rambling sentimental reflective-type post on the blog i guess.

I started this blog when I was 15, in 2018. I was bored at a summer job, scribbled Onestar on the back of a sticker sheet, and thought "huh, there sure is a lot of Warrior Cats characters! I've seen some design blogs around, I think there's a "draw 100 cats challenge" people do, wouldn't it be fun if I gave that a try?" I had nothing going on art-wise at the moment, I was losing steam on my Pokemon webcomic and had given up askblogs a while ago, so I quickly fell into it.

Starting out was weird- I'd only read up to about Power of Three at the time, and hadn't read TPB or TNP in quite a while. I vivdly remember someone sending me a request to draw Tawnypelt about 20 cats in or so, and I genuinely couldn't remember who she even was. I think I got a request to draw Jagged Peak before I even knew DOTC existed? I wasn't working off of a specific list, and would miss certain cats out entirely due to forgetting them which frustrated me. Drawing cats was fun, and once I got to 100 eventually I found myself going "well, now what? I haven't even drawn Sorreltail, Nightstar, Appledusk, Spiderleg..." so, i kept going!

Then 2020 rolled around and lockdown hit, and I was suddenly stuck in my house with no plans, seemingly unlimited time, and a desperate need for some kind of outlet that offered escapism from the world.

Drawing Warrior Cats was something mundane and rhythmic but creative and enjoyable, and I found the aspect of looking at it as a challenge alluring, the same way I had when the goal was "100 random warrior cats". How far could I get before having to stop? I couldn't do over 1000 cats, right?

uh.

I could!

sunk cost fallacy or whatever, I guess?

Lot has changed in my life over the course of this. I started the challenge just after leaving high school, and now I'm headed into my third year of uni. Some family's moved around, we have a cat now, I started playing video games again, my bedroom's been revamped, I met some internet friends IRL for the first time, I'm more or less publicly out as gay, all different kinds of stuff. It's fucking wild to consider that one of the biggest constants in my life these past few years has been drawing goddamn warrior cats. I've had the Warriors wiki list of characters open on my computer basically forever, and finally closing it feels like a goodbye.

So what's happening with this blog? Well, I'm not upkeeping a daily queue anymore, that's for sure. There are some cats here I KNOW I'm going to want to go back and redesign at some point though, so this isn't over! Even if I'm less active here, for now, I'm not going anywhere. I'll probably also use this for any general warriors art/posts I want to make, as well as those "send me asks" request meme thingies. those are fun.

I'm hoping to be maybe more active on my youtube now, as well as just generally experimenting with my art more. One of the biggest downsides of spending 3 years drawing fullbody flatcolours of warrior cats and not that much else is that my improvement on every ground except cat anatomy and character design has become pretty fuckin stagnant lmao. I need to make art with backgrounds and shading and non-cat characters again or i think ill explode. time to get out of this comfort zone!!

speaking of, very lucky this thing ended right at the start of Artfight. I'm @/RioBlitzle there and I try to revenge back attacks! Will probably put my energy into that for a wee while.

@daily-mario-characters might come back,, eventually but I'm not promising anything, and if I haven't learned anything from running this blog you might see me on a "drawing every pokemon" streak in a few months. it is how it is.

Anyways, thank you all so much for your support. Massive shoutout to everyone who's ever left nice comments in the tags of my posts, I don't really have a way to respond but I read every one of those and please know that they absolutely make my day.

Thanks for sticking through this challenge with me!

[thuganomxcs]

1. When are you usually online?  You can usually catch me on here EARLY in the AM. That’s when I get more stuff done. I’m usually here 4AM to queue some things in the drafts, I usually try to get to at the very least four replies. Then I’m off to work.

2. What verses are you involved in outside of this page? I have a multimuse blog that I’m slowly getting back into, it’s a low activity blog that I manage now. I try to get to 2 drafts on there a day after work. Huh, speaking of which I gotta check it out. I also have a Sinbad blog that haven’t seen me in QUITE a while but it will once I get that drive to roleplay him one more time. Honestly I’ve been juggling between Yakuza, Judgment and Fist of the north star that strengthens my muse for Yusuke through the roof.

3. What is your biggest RP pet peeve? When people don’t treat OCs with the same respect they would a canon muse. I get not every OC you meet is going to be somethin’ you mess with but it doesn’t change the fact that their writers are peeps just like me and you.

4. Are you drawn to specific types of muses? You know people tell me that I am drawn to characters that commits an act of genocide. I mean it’s a joke but yeah, the ones I’m usually drawn too are ironically the bad boy archetype.

5. Are there recurring themes in your writing that people might not notice? I don’t think so, what people would notice is sometimes I tend to put a spin to mundane shit through my writing.

6. What are your favorite RP trends? Oh this is something for a tumblr veteran to answer for me, I can’t really say what my favorite trends are BUT if anyone would IM me and then gimme a little bit of education then I’ll gladly re-edit this post with my answer on a later date.

7. What is your process for starting a new story with someone?   There really isn’t much process, we say hey in the IMs, they post a prompt or two and I sed things in and BAM we’re writing. Though there are a few peeps that I really talk to regarding storyline especially considering Yu yu hakusho ain’t everyone’s taste.

8. How do you feel about duplicates? As a guy that loves to do multiverse stories I’d welcome a duplicate with open arms, provided they don’t jack my stuff I see no problem with it. 

9. How long have you been involved in roleplaying? MAN I was still in school back then, do y’all remember Myspace and AOL? That was where I used to roleplay back in the early 2000s. I say ‘roleplay’ but I use the term extremely lightly because one my english was TRASH then, two grammar was shit too and one liners were fun.

10. Is there a muse or verse you wish you could write in, but haven’t? On here? There are probably a few but on discord I got my partners that enable me to live the dreams and I love each and every one of y’all.

tagged: @quickdeaths​ (thanks for tagging the boy)

tagging: @belovedblossoms​ , @aceparagon​ , @angelustm​ , @eternitycyber​ , @regnantlight​ , @fatexbound​ , @healingwords​ , @universestreasures​ , @monmuses​ , @acandlelitdeath​ , @knightshonour​ , @adamnedmartyr​ , @xkokuryuhax​ , @hortussecretum​ , @holified​ , @rivenheart​ , @erobret​ , steal it homies

#❛ dashgames ━━ everyone's tough talk til the hands clam up.

[undeadfinitely]

About me

Saw that on @greenblueish 's page and decided to do it. Thank you for posting the tag game!

💎 why did you choose your url?

it was a pregenerated one that i never changed, because it... it just fits, ig. i also suck at making up names!

💎 any side-blogs? if you have them, name them and why you have them.

a cottagecore one, a dark academia one, a wellness one, a homestuck one... i love making sideblogs and organizing it all. it feels like putting all my fixations in neat boxes.

💎 how long have you been on tumblr?

for a loooong time, but i've became active fairly recently, lol.

💎 do you have a queue tag?

no. i forget to tag my posts way too often.

💎 why did you start your blog in the first place?

... for invader zim, nightvale and homestuck fanart. the classical weird kid triada, huh.

💎 why did you choose your icon/pfp?

it's green and i love hayao miyazaki. also anna and i look a bit simular, so that's also a nice touch :p

💎 why did you choose your header?

it's green and i love green!! and it matches fairly well.

💎 what’s your post with the most notes?

i accidentally purged it, but it was a tag yourself called "night vale characters as kids from my class" and jokes on you, i was all the kids mentioned. well, almost all of the kids mentioned.

💎 how many mutuals do you have?

please, don't make me do the math... not much, though. but i would love to make more friends!!

💎 how many followers do you have?

88.

💎 how many people do you follow?

230. i know.

💎 have you ever made a shitpost?

 i usually shitpost on my homestuck sideaccounts, but yes.

💎 how often do you use tumblr each day?

it depends. usually for an hour or two, but sometimes less... (and sometimes more). tumblr is my comfort social now.

💎 did you have a fight/argument with another blog once? who won?

nope. i'm mostly a lurker u_u

💎 how do you feel about “you need to reblog this” posts?

i don't like them. you do not control me, mr. internet post >:(

💎 do you like tag games?

yes, i surely do!!!

💎 do you like ask games?

oh YES i sure do!!! they are so, so much fun!!!!

💎 which of your mutuals do you think is tumblr famous?

@spicy-cleanness and if not, he should be. for real.

💎 do you have a crush on a mutual?

does my girlfriend count as a mutual? if so, yes, i have a huge fat crush on @amans-noctua :D

💎 tags?

@amans-noctua @foxlun @unholy-ghosting @kingmayk @orioleunknown @snokoms @the-pessimistic-cupcake @stabbykiri @spicy-cleanness and anyone else who wants this!

#tag game #tagging game #ask game #asking game #mutuals #mutual ask #about me

[soramei]

Intentional - Part 6

Pairing: Bang Chan x Reader (she/her)

Summary: Landing your first real job at JYPE was something short of a miracle. You were prepared to face the new struggles of this elusive career whilst moving to a new country, however, nothing could have prepared you for him. Will stolen glances, secret touches, and hushed nights spent in the recording room ever be enough for the both of you?

Genre: idol!bang chan au, forbidden relationship, coworkers to eventual lovers, slow burn

Warnings: cursing, eventual smut

Word Count: 3.5k

Masterlist

A/N: hehe my mistake, i forgot to queue up this update and by the time i realized it was too late so i'm posting this a day late ^^

Taglist (reply to be tagged!): @planetdemon​ @hvunvely​ @fluffybitch0325​ @fashi0nablee @juststop88 @straykisz @theultimaterad @margaritas-en-la-montania @meowtella @xsam1992x

The man froze in his tracks after entering the room and catching you laying on the couch with Bang Chan on top, practically devouring you. He looked scarred, to be frank, as he quickly snapped back to reality and bolted out the door in less than a second. As he made his grand escape, you forcefully pushed Bang Chan off of you. He swore under his breath before tripping out the door, trying to follow the man who had just caught you.

You sat up, head in your hands. This was exactly what you were scared of. What you worried so much about a few nights back. What Bang Chan reassured you of not happening.

You feel panic set in as you thought of the worst case scenario. Yup. You were going to get fired for sure. And the news will go to the public, resulting in Bang Chan also losing his job. You would then have to move back with your parents, and everybody will have the same look of shame and pity whenever they see you.

This wasn’t good. You stood up to make your own inconspicuous escape, but it seemed like Bang Chan beat you to the door.

“That was Jisung,” Bang Chan said. He entered, making sure to lean against the door just in case anybody else wanted to intrude.

The name and the face clicked in your mind. He was part of Stray Kids as well as Bang Chan’s coworker. You recognized him more commonly as Han, as his name has come up in a lot of the work you’ve been sent.

“What did he say?” you asked skeptically. Worry was setting in.

“Don’t worry, he said he wouldn’t tell anybody. I trust him.”

How were you supposed to believe that? You’ve never even spoken to this man in your life, and now you were supposed to put the future of your career in his hands?

“But I don’t, Chan. I’ve never even met this guy in real life before. How can I trust that he won’t tell one of your other group members?” You heard your voice get louder with every word.

“I had a talk with him just now, Y/n, you can trust him. Out of everybody in this company, he’s the least likely to tell just anybody — even one of our members.” He paused, “don’t you trust me, Y/n?”

You were speechless. Your trust in him was completely different from your trust in Jisung, and you were sure he knew that. Obviously you trusted Bang Chan, but you didn’t know the extent that his group members would go to for a secret. Especially one that could have an effect on their careers as well.

“You can’t just ask me that, and you know it,” you sneered. “You know what? It’s my fault. I was too careless. I’ll leave now.”

“Wait, Y/n-”

You didn’t even let him finish before stomping out the door, making sure to check your surroundings for anybody that could catch you before heading back up to your cubicle. You felt the heat of your cheeks the whole elevator ride.

You were on edge for the rest of the day. When Manager Chen asked to see you in her office, you were so startled that you quite literally jumped from your seat. You were sure somebody had informed her of what happened, but it turned out that she just wanted to rearrange the usual Friday meeting.

Because of the filming tomorrow, the project meeting had to be arranged for next week. Which you were fine with, of course, since you did not want to face all your managers in one place after what had just happened.

Throughout the rest of the day, you started to feel more and more guilty for how you reacted at lunch. As your mind cleared, you realized how rash you were with your decision making and how you only thought about yourself. You also thought about how rude it was to talk about Jisung like that, especially in front of Bang Chan — who cared a lot about the boy.

Logging off your email for the day, the thought of Bang Chan still lingered bitterly in your mind. You wished to apologize for your harsh behaviour, so you started to make your way over to his producing room.

However, you hadn’t even made it on the elevator before you were stopped.

“Hey, uhm — you might not recognize me, but I’m the guy from earlier. Han Jisung.”

He was standing politely behind you, hands folded together behind him.

“Hello, I still remember. You know, from earlier,” you awkwardly breathed out a laugh. You didn’t know what to say or why he was here.

“Hyung told me I could find you here and that I should apologize.” He took his hands out from behind him. “He also said that this might help.”

In his hand was a bottle of mango juice. Your heart warmed at the thought of Bang Chan still caring for you, despite you being such a jerk earlier.

“Anyways,” he continued, “I’m sorry for barging in like that and leaving so suddenly. I should’ve knocked or something before coming in, but Chan-hyung is somebody I’m very close to. I would never jeopardize him in any way.”

Hearing him apologize made you realize how little thinking you had done. Jisung regularly worked with Bang Chan, so of course he would just enter the room without knocking.

“Thanks for your apology, but I should be apologizing. I was the one being reckless. You did nothing wrong, Jisung. I trust that you wouldn’t tell anybody of this.”

“Thanks,” he said as the both of you entered the elevator.

The both of you stood in silence for a bit before he started again.

“So, Chan hyung huh.” He raised his eyebrows. “You know, he’s the best looking one out of all of us… after me of course.”

“Oh my god.” You blushed, head in your hands as he kept elbowing you.

“But, Y/n.” He got all serious again. His serious-playful demeanor was giving you whiplash. “You know what you’re doing is dangerous, right? Not only for him, but also for you. I love our fans, but there are some that have taken it too far before. I just want the two of you to be safe.”

“Thanks Jisung,” you started, “for that and for keeping this secret.”

“Of course, any ‘friend’ of Hyung's is a friend of mine.” He winked, causing you to heat up from embarrassment again.

The elevator reached Jisung’s floor, and he got out.

“Oh, also, I think you should call Chan hyung. He’s been pretty down this whole afternoon, and even my natural charisma couldn’t cheer him up.”

You thanked him for the last time before the elevator doors closed, promising him that you would contact Bang Chan.

And you did — as soon as you were alone in the elevator.

One ring. Two rings. A third.

“Hello?” He sounded out of breath.

“Chan?”

“Yes, Y/n?”

Crap, he sounded annoyed.

“Uhm, can we meet up somewhere? I-I wanted to talk to you.”

There was a slight pause.

“I’m at the gym right now. We could meet at the playground by the river in an hour.”

“Ok.” You hung up after that. It was a weird phone call. From his voice alone, you could obviously tell something was bugging him. You knew you were that something.

Grabbing a quick bite at a nearby convenience store, you started your journey to the playground. It wasn’t too far of a walk, but you decided to go earlier since it was already starting to get dark.

You hoped Bang Chan wasn’t in too much of a bad mood, especially after your conversation with Jisung. Honestly, you weren’t too excited to apologize. Not because you didn’t feel bad, but because of his cold and monotone voice through the phone. You didn’t want to admit it — especially because you had just met this man a few weeks ago — but you were scared of his possible rejection. It terrified you.

Breathing into your hands for warmth, you finally saw the playground up ahead. It was near the river, but covered by trees. You now understood why Bang Chan picked this place.

It was empty, as you assumed no child would want to play tag on a cold and dark evening. You sat on a swing, mindlessly swinging up and down whilst staring at the upcoming moon. The sound of crickets chirping combined with the cool autumn breeze almost brought you to serenity, but the thought of confronting Bang Chan grounded you back to earth.

You turned your head at the sound of panting. Bang Chan had jogged here. The ends of his hair were damp with sweat, stuck to his forehead. You wanted to call him crazy, as the only thing he wore was a sleeveless tank top and a pair of shorts on a cold autumn night.

He made his way to the swings.

“Hey,” he said, hopping on to the swing beside you. He was still out of breath from jogging.

“Hey,” you paused for a few seconds to think of what to say. “I wanted to apologize for earlier. I wasn’t thinking. I know you care about your job as well, and it was selfish of me to walk out on you. I’m also sorry for talking about Jisung like that. I met him this afternoon and he seemed like a good guy. And if there’s anything else I missed, I’m sorry for that too.”

You looked up at Bang Chan with puppy eyes, hoping that he would understand. He looked back at you.

“I accept your apology, Y/n. And look, I’m sorry too. I shouldn’t have been so reckless, especially at the office. I knew that anybody could have walked in, and I was careless. We were lucky this time, but next time we might not be.”

“Next time?” Your eyes brightened.

“Y/n,” he got up, “I’m scared. I’m scared that I feel this way about you after only a few weeks. I’m terrified of losing my job, my coworkers, and friends. But Y/n, I just want you. I’m laying all my cards out on the table. This is how I feel, what about you?”

That was a lot to take in. Your grip tightened on the swing.

“Chan, everything you just said, I feel the same way. Everything about this scares me, but I just want you. Only you.”

You got up and wrapped your arms around him. You felt the cold sweat of his arms against your skin, but you didn’t care. You just wanted to be near him.

He wrapped his arms around you in return, digging his nose into your neck. You felt his damp hair against your skin.

“Chan, you’re all sweaty,” you teased, pushing his head away.

“I don’t care.” His words came out muffled against your neck as he dug his nose further.

“I feel like a kid being in a playground.” You scanned the empty playground, reminiscing on your childhood.

“Would a kid do this?”

Bang Chan, with his fingers on your chin, turned his head to kiss you so deep you thought you were going faint. You returned the kiss, hands gripping hard on to the sides of his tank. It seemed like the two of you were in your own little world.

“You should go. Tomorrow’s gonna be a long day,” Bang Chan said after eventually breaking the kiss.

“Mhmm,” you mumbled, trying to stall for time. You knew that the both of you should get going.

Eventually, after quite a while, you left for home. It felt as if a weight had been lifted off your shoulders. A very cute and dimple-y weight.

That evening, you packed all your necessities for the overnight shoot tomorrow, and fell asleep with high hopes for the next day. You were excited to see all your — along with the production team’s — efforts come to fruition.

The next morning, you woke up early and energized. You double checked that everything was ready before heading out to the JYPE building.

Manager Chen had informed you of which van you would be riding in to the set. Although she wasn’t in the vehicle with you, you had the opportunity to chat amongst some other very interesting members in the production crew.

After a few hours of driving, your van — along with the others — arrived. You helped the production crew set up as much as you could, as you were told the boys already started filming their drive to the set. Whilst waiting for the boys to come, you socialized around with both the production crew and Manager Chen.

Soon, after chatting for a bit, you saw the long awaited van pull up to the set. The boys got out, one by one, each holding their own little video cameras.

Bang Chan got out last. He looked amazing, really. With his hair and makeup done and his outfit styled, he was almost like a different person. You’ve never seen him without black on, but this was a surprisingly refreshing look.

It was chaos. With every boy at their peak energy, there was never a boring moment on set. It was clear that everybody — even the quieter ones — had established nice dynamics within the group. You watched them in awe, with Manager Chen telling you the behind happenings every now and then.

You found it so hard to hold in your laughter as the boys attempted to make mooncakes. It reminded you of your childhood; when you used to do the same with your mother.

As Bang Chan read off the script which you helped with, you felt a certain sense of pride in your heart. You smiled at him as he expressed himself to the camera.

It was dinner time for the boys, so that meant dinner for you and the crew as well. You followed the production team to a noodle restaurant. It was a small and cute, grandma-grandpa owned place. The menu, however, was huge.

“Y/n, this is Manager Jung,” Manager Chen said. She directed your gaze to a guy who looked in his late twenties. You instantly recognized him as the manager that drove you home on your first day of work.

“We’ve met before,” he said.

“You have?” Manager Chen was surprised.

“We have, but it’s nice to meet you under better circumstances,” you blushed. You hoped that you didn’t leave too bad of a first impression with him.

“It’s nice to meet you too, I’ve only heard good things about you from Manager Chen,” he said. “Actually, we were just discussing the sleeping arrangements for tonight.”

“Yes, we’ve managed to book a place that has enough rooms for everybody to sleep alone. They’re not the best of rooms, but this was the best we could do with our budget,” Manager Chen said.

“Sounds good to me,” you nodded. You were fully expecting to share a room with five other women.

You had a happy evening, eating and chatting before getting back to work. You watched as the boys carried out every production order to a tee, all the while keeping up their high energy even late into the night.

You helped the production crew with setting up fireworks for their next segment. Even the act of setting up got you excited as you haven’t seen fireworks in so long. Especially in a new country.

The rest of the filming went smooth, with the end slate following the last firework of the evening. You watched as the boys all lined up in a straight line to thank the production and camera crew. Bang Chan’s eyes landed right on yours. You smiled. He smiled back.

The boys were then ushered by Manager Jung into their own hostel, and you followed the crew to your room. The room was lit by a small incandescent light bulb. It was a small room with nothing but a mat for the floor, a small blanket, and a pillow. Though, to be fair, you weren’t expecting much.

You laid out the mat and blanket, washed up, and was about to call it in when you received a text from Bang Chan.

Bang Chan: You looked cute today.

You blushed, not aware that Bang Chan had even seen you during the day. He looked so busy with filming the whole time that you hadn’t even made eye contact. You smiled and returned the text.

Y/n: You too ^^

And with that, you peacefully fell asleep.

You had a tranquil dream; with only clouds, and sunshine, and… Manager Jung?

“Y/n!” he called.

Your dream clone hopped over to him to say hello.

“Y/n!” He called again. He looked worried. “Y/n!”

You suddenly jolted awake.

“Y/n! Hurry, get out!” He was coughing, holding the hem of his shirt up to his face.

You looked at him. His silhouette was clouded by smoke. You looked up.

The light bulb hanging from was burning and emitting a smoke of some kind. You gasped in shock, instantly regretting it as you breathed in a large amount of the smoke.

Manager Jung was already running outside at this point, and you quickly ran after him. Along the way you tried to hold your breath, but with every inhale you took in, a cloud of smoke followed. You coughed and kept running.

It seemed as if you were the last person out, as everybody staying at the hostel had already evacuated. Manager Chen was standing outside, a look of worry on her face.

“Y/n, are you okay?” She ran over to you.

“Yes,” you coughed. You still felt the smoke in your throat. “What happened?”

“The light bulb in your room caught on fire,” Manager Jung intervened. “Manager Chen was still awake when she smelled the smoke, and she evacuated everybody inside. Everybody woke up except you, Y/n.”

“Is everybody else okay?” you asked. You could hear how hoarse your voice sounded.

“Everybody else is alright. For some reason, the fuse shortage was only isolated to your room,” Manager Chen replied.

It was unfortunate that, out of all the rooms, the broken light bulb was in yours. However, you were glad that everybody else was safe. You were also thankful that Manager Jung woke you up in time, leaving you with only a sore throat.

“Hyung!”

You whipped your head to the direction of the voice. Bang Chan was sprinting across the dirt path in your direction. His hair was disheveled and his t-shirt wrinkled. Behind him was Jisung, dashing over so fast that he somehow managed to match Bang Chan’s pace. Jisung threw his hand, catching the back of Bang Chan’s shirt, pulling him back. Jisung then said some incoherent words to Bang Chan, which seemed to have slowed him down. Bang Chan took a couple deep breaths before waiting for his other members and walking over to you and the crew.

“What happened? Is everybody okay?” Bang Chan asked, concerned. He glanced at you before facing Manager Jung again.

“Everybody is fine,” Manager Jung reassured him. “There was a problem with the light bulb in a crew member’s room, but everybody has evacuated now. You and the boys don’t need to worry. Just go back to your rooms as you have a long day tomorrow.”

“Whose room was it?” Bang Chan asked, ignoring everything Manager Jung had just told him.

Manager Jung hesitated before pointing at you. Upon realization, Bang Chan jerked forward, only to be stopped by Jisung again. He gave Bang Chan a look.

“I’m okay,” you coughed out. It was hard to not sound so hoarse when you had just been breathing in smoke for god knows how long.

Bang Chan gave a deadpan look to Manager Jung.

“We have extra rooms where we’re staying, maybe Y/n can stay with us?” he asked.

“That is unnecessary, I will let Y/n use my room and I will stay with you. I’m sure Y/n would be on board,” Manager Jung said. He looked over to you, and you nodded in agreement.

“I guess that would work,” Bang Chan hesitantly said, “but what if this happens again with another room?”

“I’m sure that won’t-”

“Manager Jung!” Manager Chen interrupted, waving her hands whilst running over. “A member of our production crew took a look at the fuse box connected to Y/n’s room, and it seems like somebody tampered with the wires on purpose.”

#stray kids #stray kids imagines #stray kids scenarios #stray kids smut #bang chan smut #stray kids x reader #stray kids fanfic #stray kids fluff #bang chan scenarios #bang chan imagines #jeongin scenarios #stray kids angst #bang chan angst #skz scenarios #skz imagines #stray kids fanfiction

[jungxk]

just one (viii)

summary: the only guy on campus who’s track record trumped that of your best friend’s - park jimin - was jeon jungkook. not that that was a problem…until he set his sights on you.

notes: first of all i wanna thank the people who supported me and encouraged me through one of the worst writers blocks of my life. all the messages and comments are the reason why i finally managed to post this. special thanks to @whippedforkook for helping me with the monstrous tagging process as well as giving me so much praise. and also @lonelyending for cheering me on for a literal YEAR bc thats how long i cried over this fic! this story is so special to me. we’re in the home stretch now x

warnings: mentions of illegal drug use and distribution, swearing, brief smut.

genre: drama, romance, humour, college!au

wordcount: 8k

tagging: @cutechim @benz-biarritz @gyukult @bangulin @eatersanonymous @alyssa1926 @skivv1es @a-sucker-for-them-sappy-shit @moonights @jeymuffins @juuneaux @catsukiii @andreaisaac @whatheydontunderstand @sreveles @noruls619 @henryharios @just-a-fuxked-up-kid @befriendswithj @btsbesharam @poemsandpunani @taelha @misosoup-forthesoul @jikooksmut @heart-eyedmf @the-piano-woman @angrysunshine @chaoticpaperfanhoagie @jsungshine @ci-yen @faby-montana @shinypeanutsportshero @jooniestrivia @alucards-s @cynamyngirl @jiminie-angel @myskoova @jkshoneybuns @smokintae @remmykinsff @majinbuwu @jangx2manboongx2 @potatodogs @seul-queen @alpharyth @blenxxxg @plsky @th-singularity @bapbaptothetop @hermiones-enchantment @stomachfilledwithbutterflies @euphorora @supachloe94 @jiminxjimout @ggukkieland @just-another-fic-recs-blog @jalexad​

part i // part ii // part iii // part iv // part v // part vi // part vii // part viii // part ix // part x

x

4 years ago

x

jimin hated yugyeom.

well, maybe hate was a strong word. he just didn't like talking to him, being around him, hearing his name or interacting with him on any level, social or otherwise. he really tried though, since he was one of jungkook's closest friends and still respectfully referred to him as hyung above all else. and if anything, jimin would always have a soft spot for jungkook, the kid he used to coddle when his own brother wasn't around. but having said that, there wasn't really much basis for not liking yugyeom. it was just a gut feeling jimin couldn't explain, a very subtle callousness about him only jimin could pick up on. for the most part he was just like very other mild mannered boy by day and party animal by night, but jimin still ducks when he sees him enter the library.

"fuck," he hisses under his breath, scooping up his laptop to stride behind a book shelf for good measure. because sometimes, contrary to popular belief, jimin wanted to be alone. he didn't want to make small talk or listen to someone tell him about how well they scored on their last paper or complain about their annoying girlfriend. sometimes jimin wanted to have no thoughts and listen to fleetwood mac as per his human rights. which is why he shoves into the first private study room he sees.

and not an empty one at that. there's a girl inside, sitting cross-legged in her chair at a desk with an array of dried up paint tubes and brushes surrounding open sketchbooks. you don't look annoyed or even that phased, just amused as you give him a once over before going back to painting. "on the run from solji?"

jimin blinks, back still pressed against the door. "huh?" he regards you properly. "i'm sorry, have we met before?"

"not really," you admit with a sheepish smile, which is when jimin suddenly realises that you're...attractive. "solji is in my stats class. you hooked up with her last week at some party and she told me about it."

"oh," jimin takes in your plethora of art supplies. "you don't look like a stem student."

there's a glimmer of something in your eyes, and though you hide it well jimin knows he's struck a nerve. "yeah, i get that a lot."

"it's not solji by the way," jimin clarifies. for some reason. "that i'm hiding from. just a bellend i don't have the energy for right now."

you smile. "it's fine. you don't owe me your life story."

"i do when i'm about to impose on your...study time," jimin peers through the window in the door, wincing when yugyeom enters the hallway. "what would it take for you to let me stay in here for a while?"

you pause for a second. "honestly? just be quiet and leave me alone. is that okay?"

jimin perks up, a weight leaving his chest. "perfect, actually."

x

x

x

[jungkook 11:42pm]: why does it say wings on it

[jungkook 11:42pm] where is it flying

[you: 11:43pm] ffs kook

[you: 11:44pm] im still on the toilet can u just hurry up

[you 11:44pm] grab some tampons too pls

[jungkook 11:46pm] fine what size pussy do u wear

[you 11:46pm] i hate u

[jungkook 11:53pm] ???? ? ? well? ????

[you 11:54pm] REGULAR 

jungkook giggles at his phone, already having left the women's sanitary aisle to grab some chocolate. months later and teasing you was still bundles of fun. he knew for a fact that you were sat there with that angry pout on your face, nose crinkled. he had never bought anything like this before, but jungkook had enough brain cells to know that chocolate was another necessity for that time of the month. after grabbing a large hazelnut bar, he pauses beside the oreos before grabbing a packet of those too. just for good measure. he strides to the self checkout - because even he wasn't man enough for the cashier yet - nearly dropping his array of sanitary products and confectionary when somebody calls out his name from behind the queue.

"kook!" the voice is unmistakably yugyeom's, confirmed by the hand that clamps jungkook over the shoulder and swivels him round before he could think about hiding his socially compromising shopping items. it takes a second for yugyeom to notice, doing a double take at the pads atop his small tower of goods. he holds back a laugh, balancing a bottle of gin in one hand while he waves back at some friends to continue. they were clearly making their pit stop before a night out, probably pre's if they still start as late as jungkook remembers. with his hair styled and expensive cologne lingering, jungkook almost forgets he probably looks unrecognisable in his sweats and cotton-fresh hoodie. friday nights weren't for cuddling. still, yugyeom's smile is welcoming and familiar. "got the munchies? and maybe also a uterus?"

"shut up," jungkook grumbles, averting his eyes. he shifts to his other foot uncomfortably. "my friend just needed a favour, that's all."

"uh huh," yugyeom gives him a teasing look. "is this friend the reason why i barely saw you at jin's the other week?"

jungkook blinks back at him. "wait, you were at that party? i had no idea!" a boyish smile breaks over his face. "why didn't you call me? i haven't seen you since-"

"minseok-hyung's new years eve party," yugyeom throws his head back with a laugh. "remember how we ended up on a boat after the ball dropped and-"

"spent all of new years day detained by the coast guard!" jungkook finishes with a mischievous cackle of his own, nearly dropping the tampons in the process. "fuck, that was so much fun! we need to meet up again, i haven't been out with the guys in so long."

"well no wonder," he quips a brow at jungkook's shopping again. "word got out you're a family man but i didn't believe it. until now, that is."

jungkook's smile falls. "what do you mean?"

yugyeom looks at him for a second, confused by jungkook's surprise. yugyeom was never quite as diplomatic as namjoon or yoongi, to put it lightly. and definitely nowhere near as accomodating as jimin. which is why his next words make jungkook's back stiffen. "bro, look at yourself. you got dairy milk in one hand and tampax in the other. on a friday night. the next time i see you i wouldn't be shocked if you had a baby buggy and a mortgage." still, yugyeom throws him an apologetic look. like a mouse caught in a trap. "face it, kook. you're old news."

"what? that's not true," his brows furrow unhappily. "i don't know what you're talking about. it's not like she's my..."

he can't say the word, but it hangs between them like a dead weight.

"yeah, right," the condescending look on yugyeom's face was starting to agitate him. "you totally blanked us at jin's after she showed up. not even just jin's..." he thinks twice about holding his tongue, but as always, decides against it. "i don't know you, jungkook. whoever this new jungkook is. it's been months. you used to hit us up and be independent and spontaneous and wild and now you're just...someone's boyfriend.

"stop fucking saying that," jungkook snaps, all visible signs of friendliness gone.

"why?" a beat. "do you even use a wrap with her anymore?"

jungkook splutters, heat rushing to his ears and hands in a stinging combination of anger and embarrassment. "how is that any of your business? the fuck are you asking me something like that, as if you-"

"thought so," yugyeom looks away from him with a sigh. if anything, yugyeom knew never to overstay his welcome but that clearly backfired tonight. "whatever, jungkook," he looks over his shoulder at him. "guess you're the last one to find out you're officially married."

"you're ridiculous," jungkook scoffs. "all this over condoms? grow up, yugyeom."

"only couples do it raw," yugyeom turns away from him, alcohol in tow as he waves a hand over his shoulder to join his friends like jungkook was nothing but a lost cause. "you would remember that if you still had game."

jungkook stands there, dumbfounded while the group of boys exit the store noisily but he can't hear a thing. the siren that had been itching the back of his mind all this time was suddenly there at full force, right between his eyes. the glaring truth that yugyeom might be right makes his knees buckle. all those rules jungkook once had, all those measures he kept in place to protect his liberty, to prevent this very occurence - where were they? what happened to them? as the sweet and accommodating counterpart to jimin, why had you never complied? though, the blame wasn't on your hands alone. he got complacent, comfortable. lenient. and now without even realising he was here, a scene from a romcom in the middle of the night, with nothing to say for himself but fuck. the realisations wouldn't stop racing, one after another on the conveyer belt of his anxiety.

the photos on his phone; mostly you. time spent, usually with you. the portfolio for his latest photography module also had some resemblance to your interests. charcoal pencils, night drives, orchids. like the ones you always drew on any scrap of paper lying around. now that he thinks about it, he's seen nothing but your orchids for months. and not just that - you wore his clothes sometimes too. his bathroom had your toothbrush, contraceptive pills and coconut shampoo. his closest friends, his hyungs...not one of them was devoid of affection for you. he wasn't even confident that if the choice was presented, they would still pick him over you.

by the time jungkook finishes paying and practically sprints to his truck in a daze, he can hardly keep himself from shaking. he palms the wheel compulsively, he could feel the sweat in his sideburns, hoodie suddenly suffocating him. it smelled of you.

and then, like a final curtain call: was he just your latest fixer-upper project? some good girl wet dream to play out in the wake of your emotionally traumatic past? a slap in the face to seokjin, maybe, and nothing more? when you were done, when he was out of your system, when you knew his taste by heart and had nothing new left to try - would you stay? did you even know how to?

did he?

jungkook starts the engine. he drives to your door, drops your bag of snacks and pads on the porch, and texts you before leaving. he does not go inside.

x

x

x

"you sure you'll be okay with just the boys?"

you scoff at seulgi when she pins you with a worrying look, taking some of her clothes out of her bag to re-fold them just so you had something to do with your hands. jisoo had already left for the long weekend with her family, so there was no one there to fill up the empty space between your awakward reply. you didn't know how to tell the girls that jungkook hadn't contacted you in nearly a month. and even though he was a notable flight risk from the beginning, you couldn't help but feel like there was hostility there. every now and again he'd at least send a nude or have a quick phone call when he was drunk or high at three in the morning, but you hadn't heard a peep from him. you couldn't stand the idea of someone you cared about harbouring comtempt for you, but the fear of reaching out and somehow making the situation worse outweighed it tenfold. 

you look up to see seulgi still staring at you with concern. "of course i'll be fine! they're boys, not piranhas."

"at least piranhas contribute our ecosystem. boys just cause problems for the hell of it," seulgi lays a hand on the crown of your head like a berating big sister, swivelling you to look at her in your fit of giggles. the urge to nestle you under blankets like a baby bird made her chest heave, and you could tell. "i'm serious. if jimin tries anything, call me immediately okay?"

"jimin?" you snort. "out of a room full of delinquents, my ex, and taehyung, you're worried about jimin of all people?"

seulgi wrinkles her nose. "god, when you say it like that its like i'm throwing you to the dogs." she pauses. "something's up with jimin. i don't know what it is, but he's...off."

you tilt your head innocently, remembering the brief interaction you had with hobi at seokjin's party. you had been so caught up in jungkook - or lack thereof - you hadn't thought to press him about it afterwards. in truth, jimin remained as...jimin as ever. if he was acting differently you certainly couldn't tell. "you think so?"

"mmm," she leans on the lip of the open suitcase thoughtfully. "but maybe with jungkook there, he'll behave himself."

you gulp, fiddling with his watch on your wrist anxiously. "maybe."

x

x

x

you nearly yelp when you feel a big hand swivel around your waist, bucking into the kitchen counter reflexively. jungkook always did this before rubbing his boner against your ass, but the light scent of citrus and short squeeze lets you know immediately that its taehyung. hoseok, jimin, namjoon and yoongi were still in the living room playing video games, giving taehyung the perfect opening to intercept you. namjoon and yoongi had insisted that you come over to their place after finding out you'd be alone for the weekend, and you had completely refused before taehyung's coaxing. and of course, jimin's persuasive nudging. even though you felt safe and relaxed here, it felt wrong to be in jungkook's friends' place without him. almost like a breaching of an unspoken boundary.

and clearly, taehyung picked up on your discomfort by the way he stared at you so softly. his back was to the sink, his sillhouette particularly long and lean this evening. "you need to lighten up, princess. you keep looking over your shoulder so much it's making me nervous!"

your visibly droop with a sigh. "i'm sorry tae. i've had a lot on my mind lately, and..."

he claps his hands on your shoulders, teeth peeking through his grin. "you're not doing anything illegal by being here without jungkook."

you wince at his name. "have you always been able to read my mind like this?"

"absolutely," taehyung's brown eyes look so rich up close. "you're allowed to have friends that are also his friends, because - and try to stick with me on this - relationships between people are allowed to be independant from the primary circles they met in. mind boggling concept, i know."

you wack him on the chest until he laughs. "stop making fun of my anxious thought processes! its called mental illness, sherlock! i can't help it!"

his nose scrunches cutely, enjoying your first fiery outburst of the day. "whatever. i call it not getting laid for a month and losing critical thinking abilities from it."

you gape at him indignantly while taehyung roars with laughter. "you're such a dickhead," you hiss through gritted teeth, yanking his hair and jabbing your fingers in his sides the way you would with jimin during a tickle fight. "whores have feelings too, taehyung! whores have feelings too!"

you both fall about with laughter, knocking over half the snacks on the counter in the process which only makes the pair of you laugh even more. it's such childish chaos trying to clean up the mess on the tiny kitchen floor that neither of you notice the front door open, or the gust of metaphorical and literal wind that follows. watching taehyung trying to salvage a bag of broken crisps is just so funny that the presence of an another voice in the living room goes unregistered, as do the footsteps leading up the hallway to the kitchen, so you have no time to brace yourself or properly pull yourself together with you see-

"...jungkook."

yours and taehyung's heads snap to the doorway. jungkook stands there with almost complete lack of emotion on his face to the pair of you kneeling in crumbs and napkins. there's a brief pause where the tension in your eye contact alone was so strong that it felt wrong to breathe. but it is shortlived. jungkook tiptoes over you like spilled milk, reaching for a glass of water. you and taehyung lock eyes while the tap runs in the awkward silence. "hey. you okay?"

"um," you're not sure whether to stand up, hug him, look at him, or even face him. "yeah! yeah, i'm fine."

he nods politely. "hyung?"

even taehyung looks visibly uncomfortable. "i'm good."

"cool. see you later," he says, downing the glass impressively fast before leaving the room just as fast as he entered it.

you and taehyung stare at each other again, not understanding why you both feel like kids caught eating cake before dinner. you could feel the sweat pricking at your back from the realisation. jungkook had no idea you'd be here, and given that interaction he'd probably want to leave now. there was always the inkling woven between his radio silence that he was done with you, but you never let yourself take it seriously out of logic. because how could months of passion and tenderness and honesty be undone so irrevocably like that? it didn't make sense. you hadn't changed. you were the same girl he hit on relentlessly and chased against all odds. so what was different now?

"____," taehyung calls your name gently, and it's only then you realise you're already up and trailing after jungkook into the living room. when you walk in he's already putting his shoes on to leave again, barely making eye contact with you while he chats absently to his hyungs so he can look busy. the four boys on the large sofa can only reply wearily, eyes darting between the pair of you like a firework was about to blow to soon. and it was.

you could feel it in your throat, under your breast bone, bubbling up your stomach. "wait, jungkook. um...h-how have you been? i haven't heard from you in-"

"i've been good," he keeps tying and re-tying his laces without looking up. "super busy. you know how it is."

his curtness makes you flinch. this same time last month jungkook used to kiss you senseless before he had both feet in the door. he'd ring the doorbell incessantly like a child and greet you with the biggest, toothiest grin you had ever seen. he'd make fun of your bed head and squeeze your cheeks until you'd snap at him. and now when he looked at you he hated every second of it. your mother had the same look. your eyes start to burn involuntarily. "yeah, i do. how is uni? your final project is due soon, right? what theme did you pick in the end?"

"the one i told you about," he stands up abruptly. "sorry, noona. something came up. i'll see you arou-"

"something came up?" you step closer to him. "something came up the second you saw my face? or did you really just trek all the way to your hyungs' place for a glass of water, jungkook?"

jungkook stiffens, but is determined not to lose face. and it's difficult to do under your big, accusatory eyes and jimin's death stare at his back. the whole room was waiting for his response, so he just shoves his hands in his pockets resolutely. "i needed to see yoongi hyung, but i can come another time."

you fold your arms. "well it's clearly important, and you're here now. so don't let me stop you."

"but you will stop me," jungkook snaps. "that's the problem."

"kook-ah," yoongi warns quietly, but he took one look at your face and knew the damage was done. jimin was already standing up, circling around the back of the sofa towards you. the red lights were all there; your watery eyes, your trembling hands. every breath you took looked difficult for you to complete and only jimin noticed.

"what are you talking about?" you squint. it takes you a second to understand; yoongi's guilty expression, jungkook's indifference. "oh, you're fucking kidding me." your resolve breaks for a second turning away only to glare back at jungkook with so much fire you can hardly stand it. "you're selling again? are you insane, jungkook?"

"see," jungkook's eyes are stony. "i knew you'd get this way."

"what other way am i supposed to get?" his lack of response only infuriates you more. it felt disrespectful. "jungkook, you're not a kid anymore. if you get caught with drugs the consequences are serious! forget the potential jail time, you could get kicked out of university, it would go on your record forever and-"

"stop talking to me like i'm a kid!"

"then stop acting like one!" you hate raising your voice, but it keeps climbing without your approval. "did you think about this for even five minutes? this isn't like just going to juvie like before and being done with it jungkook. your hyungs can't bail you out of everything."

"this is a lot of talk for someone who lapped up those fancy paints without a second thought," jungkook says darkly. his eyes aren't like you remember, his face solemn and near unrecognisable. "or did you think that getting that kind of money overnight is only something that's possible through daddy's credit card?"

dread blooms like a garden inside you. "that's...that's how you bought the paint set?"

"welcome to the real world," he quips. "as if selling overpriced weed to a bunch of pick-me-freshmans is considered a crime against humanity to anyone but you."

"you think that's why i'm yelling at you right now?" your voice was growing hoarse, desperate. "you think that's the problem i have with you being literal drug dealer, jungkook?"

he hates it. the sweltering silence, the judgmental eyes digging into his back, the slow realisation that the tears in your eyes were not at him but for him. jungkook's ears ring enough to make him sway on the spot if his feet weren't planted so firmly on the dingy carpet, this metaphorical ground. he couldn't shake the feeling that his lifestyle was only an issue now because of you, how he never felt a shred of guilt about any of this shit until he met you. and if there was anything that jungkook never responded well to, it was pity. and he could feel it from every person in the room, all people that that once cherished and coddled him until you came along. he swallows, throat dry from the way he couldn't look at you knowing what he was going to say next.

"you're embarrassing yourself, noona. you're not my girlfriend and you never were, so stop acting like it."

cotton. it's very faint, under the layers of conflicting cologne and beer and smoke, but jungkook still smelled of cotton while he spat acid. nobody could speak, even though jungkook never raised his voice let alone a hand to you, it still hit like a slap in the face. it sunk into the walls, your clothes, suddenly every hair on your body felt heavy with it. dirty. the shame came first, the humiliation next. and then the sorrow, the dread, and finally the defeat. you knew the stages well by now, and they were cycling through you like clockwork. how foolish you were, to make the same mistake again. nobody dared to move, everyone but jungkook staring at you in denial and horror. they couldn't believe their eyes when you nod steadily, bowing your head to the floor.

jimin is already slotting himself between you, his jaw tight. "that's enough, kook. just leave already."

"no," you stop him, unnervingly resigned. that single word cuts through all six men with ease. "he's right." you step around jimin, closing the space between you and jungkook. for a brief moment he wonders if you'll actually hit him, but somehow watching you unclasp his watch from your wrist and drop it on the coffee table in front of him is far worse. the sound seems to ring like church bells, definitive and umistakable. "you're right, i'm not your girlfriend. you win jungkook."

they all watch you leave in dismay, listen to the door closing softly behind you. within a second jimin sprints after you, calling your name, leaving everyone else dumbfounded. jungkook's stare could bore a hole into the abandoned watch on the table, still ticking away like nothing changed. like his eyes weren't burning, lightheaded at the realisation that he would never wear a watch again let alone the one he put on you.

x

x

x

to an outsider, you looked like you were coping well considering you just got dumped in front of all your friends. but jimin knew that face. your stony eyes, lips pulled thin as if to seal inside the collapse of a monument. you took the tea he offered, and then his arms, your face finding his chest with ease. muscle memory. his torso was a tad shorter than jungkook's, his heart closer to your mouth as if the steady thumps were asking for a kiss of acknowledgement. every time you close your eyes you could see jungkooks face, hard and unforgiving and nothing like the man you trusted all this time. but it wasn't a new expression; you parents looked at you similarly the last time you saw them. it was the look of someone who had no regrets cutting all ties. and now, jungkook was behind them in a lost list of people who chose to be strangers over loving you.

jimin sighs when you cry into his chest, brushing the back of your head gently. he had been ready for this for months, but he still hated to see you this way. again. it made his bones itch, his skin crawl uncomfortably every time you weeped. the only time he considered violence was when you were crying. but he knew what to do, laying down across the sofa so you could curl up into a ball next him, head on his bicep and face smushed into the crook of his shoulder. you used to cry like this for hours and hours, his arm familiar with the prickle of pins and needles. but it was the only place you felt safe. tucked into jimin's side is where you would always belong, and that truth was more glaringly obvious than ever now.

"lets get something to eat," he offers eventually, hand craddling the crown of your head like a child. jimin's other hand on your hip is warm and heavy when he pats you soothingly. in your episodes, you responded well to touch. "what about thai food?"

"not hungry," you grumble against him.

"we could make something together?" he peers down at your lack of response. "come on, babe. you gotta eat something. you didn't even have breakfast-"

"why am i so stupid?" you whisper, a fresh bout of tears welling up.

jimin rubs your thigh. "it's not your fault."

"yes it is. jungkook gave me plenty of red flags, and i ignored all of them-"

"oh, i meant you being stupid."

you scoff. "cheers."

"what?" jimin cocks a brow when you lift your head to look up at him. he wets his lips and you follow the swipe of his tongue thoughtlessly, distracted enough by his touch and proximity that you take a second to digest his words. "it's not like any of this exactly came as a surprise. you ignored me, remember? wanted to flex your big girl pants."

you pull away from him and sit up, forcibly shutting out the daze that jimin routinely puts you under. "what's wrong with you? can't you be polite and wait for a couple hours before laying into me like a normal person? jesus, jimin."

"so let me get this straight," jimin sits up, watching your back as you sit away from him. "you're mad because i'm not telling you what you want to hear?"

"no," you say, head shaking. "i'm not mad. i'm upset because i came here to be comforted by my friend and you're just making me feel worse."

"what do you want me to say, ____? that i had high hopes from the start?" jimin pushes his hair back, brows now at a sharp incline from frustration. "i told you starting something with jungkook was trouble but you didn't listen. why should i feed your victim complex when all i've done is try to help you?"

"victim complex?" you repeat, standing up slowly. the sudden steadiness of your voice causes jimin to panic.

"not like that. don't take it like that, it's just," he's suddenly before you, his warm hands palming up your arms warmly. "i didn't wanna see you get like this and it happened anyway, is all i'm saying." he sighs when your scowl doesn't let up. "if hobi hyung hadn't have given up so easy, then maybe…maybe this would never have happened. maybe if i had been harsher with him then you would have-"

"what are you talking about?" you ask quietly, searching jimin's face. "give up so easy? what's that supposed to mean?"

he looks away, hands slipping off you. "it's nothing."

"jimin."

he struggles to look at you, tongue in cheek. his lips purse for a moment, pink like roses. he's wearing that navy jumper you like. "look, it's not a big deal. he wasn't supposed to fuck you or anything, just take you out for a while. get your mind off kookie, show you a nice time."

your blood runs cold. "what?"

jimin's expression softens. "it's not as bad as it sounds-"

"really?" your voice is sharp, sharper than he's ever heard it. you recoil as if you had been struck for the second time today. "because it sounds like you asked some guy to keep me occupied like i'm a fucking dog. all because you can't stand the idea of me being within a meter of jungkook-"

he steps in, but you step back. "you know that's not true, _."

"don't i?" you scoff, covering your face in disbelief. "jimin, you've been hellbent against me even looking at the guy since day fucking one."

"because i didn't want you to get hurt!" jimin counters, eyes downcast. "i know, okay? i know how much of a dick it makes me sound, but its not like it hurt you when you had no idea! hoseok broke it off before you even knew about it so why-"

"because it's worse," you turn away from him. "you tried to control me. choose what's best for me because you think you know better than i do. sound familiar?"

his jaw sets, and it's like you can hear the twine snap in his head, the percussion of his heartbeat above yours even though he doesn't close the space between you. jimin stares at you for a long minute before drawing in a thin breath. "fine," he steps in, and you can't look away. "you want me to say it? fine. i'll say it."

suddenly the air is lace thin around you as you stare at him, waiting. jimin looks off somewhere else, somewhere you can't reach. "don't tell me you haven't thought about it, because i know you have. if i have you must have too. and lately its all i can think about - being with you, holding you, being the one who gets to touch you. and yeah, maybe it took having to see you with jungkook for me to realise how much i want all that, i put my hands up. but you have no idea what's it like to watch the person you love most get toyed around with by a time bomb like that. i've seen jungkook go through girls like underwear and i love him, god i love him, but even the idea of you being one of those wasted girls sitting outside a party crying over his sorry ass makes my fucking ears ring."

"j-jimin…" you whisper, but you have nothing to say. your hands shake.

"you deserve more than that, ____. you deserve more than waiting around for booty calls or living up to what the next guy wants. from jungkook, hoseok, anyone. you deserve someone's devotion and yeah, maybe all this time i've been too much of a pussy to give it. maybe all this time i was tiptoeing around my feelings for you because i knew if i admitted to myself that i loved you - if i admitted i was just like every other guy - i'd actually set the bar for something other than disappointment. id actually have to step up, and i didn't know if i could do it. i still don't. but if it has to be someone…it should be me."

suddenly he's holding your hands, calming the tremble that rattles them. his words bunch up together in your ears, the meaning lost amidst your awe. "jimin….jimin what are you saying? where is all this coming from, i don't...i don't understand wh-"

"i'm saying," he cups your face. "choose me." he pulls you in. so, so close. "choose me, not jungkook. not anyone else. me."

and there's a part of you that has already caved. that's already kissing him, melting into his arms like you've wanted to for so, so long. you're falling back onto the couch with him in a fit of giggles, curling back into his chest to hide your watery eyes, asking him why the fuck he took so long. you chat together between teasing kisses, pour your hearts out, maybe cry a little. later you would make tea and order pad thai and watch the office all night and fall asleep together in the living room well past dawn and then-

you close your eyes. "i can't."

"you can," jimin says, so passionately you shudder. his brown eyes are teaming with too much determination and ardour for his own good, and you both know it. its difficult to grapple with how huge a risk he's taking, because jimin never takes risks. it made the whole situation seem dire. "you know you can, ____. it's us. there's no one like us."

you don't know how you're not crying yet. you only have jimin to hold onto, hands balled in his shirt without knowing if you're about to push him away or pull him in forever. "maybe back then. maybe if you'd have said all this before," you feel empty, the beat of your pulse suddenly strong in your fingertips. "but it doesn't matter anymore."

he shakes his head in denial, his determination palpable. "of course it does-"

"i'm in love with him," you say. to jimin. to yourself. to the world, finally. "i'm in love with jungkook." holding jimin's stare isn't as difficult as you thought it'd be. "you know if you'd have done all this a few months ago…if you'd have just...i was always yours without question, jimin. and you knew it." it's his turn to bristle under the strain of your voice. "jungkook isn't perfect. i'll be the first one to admit that. he's made me cry, he fucks up, he makes mistakes. but he's never lied to me. he never made decisions for me. he never passed judgement on what i should or shouldn't do with my life. something that i never thought i wouldn't able to say about you, too."

there's a brief moment where everything stops. neither of you can believe what you just said. jimin watches you, frozen in his place as you take your bag, eyes glittering with tears when he calls for you. suddenly he's the time bomb he feared becoming, the panic in his eyes lighting them up like fire crackers. for the first time in his life, he stumbles over his words, and then his feet when you reach for the door, all composure lost. he was unravelling like a tapestry in front of you, never to be repaired, and he could feel it. "____. ____, please," jimin chokes, his cheeks blotchy. "i wanted to protect you, i was just trying to help. don't go. please don't go. i was trying to help you."

"no. you were trying to have me." you say, closing the door behind you.

x

x

x

you have no idea what time it is when you hear the bell ring incessantly.

it had been hours since you'd returned home from jimin's, but there was no way for you to keep track when your only priority was just keeping yourself afloat. you turned your phone off, drew the curtains, and resolved to alternate between sitting in seulgi and jisoo's rooms until they came back. you didn't know what else to do. when you weren't crying you were hyperventilating, and when that stopped the absence of emotion was so powerful you could barely keep your eyes open. you were exhausted but could not sleep. starving but could not eat. it was a miracle you even made it down the stairs, using what little strength you had to yank it open without even thinking about who could be on the other side in the middle of the fucking night. but at this point, you would gladly take a serial killer over jimin or jungkook.

"taehyung," you breathe when you take in his face, relieved. you must look like absolute shit because he scans your face and winces. 

"jimin told me," he says, the apology in his voice and expression was almost painful to register. "he told me everything. ____, i'm so sorry. i should have told you about the hoseok thing, i just thought it would be worse coming from me, and then i tried to force jimin into confessing but then he didn't because he's jimin, and now-"

"you're only allowed to come inside if you stop apologising," you say weakly, voice haggered from the hours of crying.

taehyung's pouty expression almost makes you smile with how cute he looks, gingerly stepping over the threshhold. "i really am sorry though."

"for what," you say monotonously, closing the door behind him while he takes off his shoes. "my inexplicably terrible taste in men? my uncanny ability to get manipulated by literally anyone who shows me a scrap of affection? or my absolutey shredded-to-shit attachment style thats barely intact let alone functioning healthily? after hoppping between the first two for a few hours i'd personally go for the latter. but whatever."

"please shut up," taehyung sighs, bringing you into his arms before you could have a second thought about it. "you need to amp up the misandry in this context. a lot of this had nothing to do with you and everything to do jimin and jungkook."

you're too tired to open your eyes, snuggling into the softness of taehyung's chest. you’re too exhausted to argue. "where did you learn the word misandry? have you been reading?"

"yeah," you can hear his big, pleased grin. "i know you and the girls have been calling me a himbo behind my back."

"affectionately," you add, peering up at him. he wipes the wetness off your cheeks, moving upstairs to your room with your hand in his. he fetches you a glass of water before putting you into bed like he's paid to do it. taehyung was the cuddliest person you had ever met, but you had rarely seen him dote on anyone. "girls love himbos. it's a compliment."

"not all girls," he mutters when he returns from the bathroom with a glass of water. "drink this, would you? you look so dry it's making me itchy."

you do as he says with a roll of your eyes. "what do you mean?" you finish your water with a big gulp. "jisoo loves dumb guys, what are you talking about?"

taehyung looks away from you, bottom lip rolling up under his teeth so fast you barely catch it. he pulls up your desk chair next to your bed, thinking long and hard before meeting your eyes again. "i don't mean jisoo."

you don't understand at first, but after staring at his face for a long minute your stomach drops. "don't. don't you fucking dare," another beat of silence. you rip the covers off you to scamble to your knees, grab your pillow and hurl it at taehyung's head. "taehyung, please don't tell me that the one remaining, healthy relationship i have with a man has also been shot to shit because i swear to god i'm gonna-"

"it's not a big deal," he says firmly, and he really does mean it. taehyung catches your wrists when you lunge at him, effectively ending your outburst before it can begin. he keeps hold of them while he stares into your eyes, watching the way they fill up with a fresh bout of tears. "i've had a crush on you for a while, so what? it's not anyone's business but mine so don't worry about it."

you try not to scream at him. "how long?"

"...since the start." he shrugs. "it's not like i could have done anything anyway. with jimin around. he’d never have it."

"but...! but..." you splutter, the highlight reel of your friendship suddenly marred before your eyes. "but you let me talk to you about boys! you gave me advice with hobi and jimin and jungkook and...! you encouraged jimin to confess to me. and the whole thing with jisoo?"

he wets his lips guiltily. "jisoo is a nice girl. i like her, but...not like you. i've always liked you."

you shake your head in horror, your face crumpling. bile rose in your throat. "so all of that...playing with my friend like that. was just to get to me?"

"listen to me," taehyung says firmly, gripping your wrists to make you look at him again. he's so close you can feel the warmth of his breath on yours, and you never realised how large taehyung's torso was compared to yours before. he could have smothered you, but he didn't. in all senses. "the way jimin and jungkook handled their feelings is on them, just like how this is on me. it doesn't matter if i'm fucking you or not, you're my friend and i'll always want people to do right by you. and that includes me."

there was nothing else to say, so taehyung wordlessly wipes your face again and fetches you more water before retreating to sleep on the couch downstairs. all the while you sat there in your bed, confused and bewildered and thoughtful. the same bed jungkook fucked you on. the same bed jimin held you in. out of all the men in your life, taehyung was the only one who treated his feelings for you with reverence. there wasn't one interaction you could think of where he made his feelings clear, where he even hinted towards wanting something more. if he hadn't have said anything tonight, in the wake of one of the most emotionally tumultuous days of your life, you would still be in the dark about it all. and that was the scariest part. you didn't know anyone else who hadn't let their feelings for you effect how they treated you. so ultimately, it was possible.

and jimin and jungkook chose not to do that. but taehyung did.

taehyung did.

when you finally pad downstairs after hours of ruminating, jisoo's bedroom door is wide open. and that's who you should be thinking about now - your friend and sister jisoo - as the sky begins to lighten with the signs of morning. you hadn't slept for over twenty four hours, you were hungry and thirsty, delirious from the whirlwind of losing the two most important men in your life in one day. but still, you are drawn to taehyung. taehyung, who never asked anything of you. taehyung, who was as silent as he was selfless this whole time. taehyung who routinely put what he wanted aside in favour of what was best for you. taehyung, who protected you without needing credit or recognition for it. taehyung, taehyung, taehyung, taehyung, taehyung-

"taehyung," you whisper scraping your nails through his hair. his eyes fluttered open, twisting his head to face you as you hovered above him. he could barely see you in the darkness. "taehyung, wake up."

"what is it?" he croaks, sitting up with half-lidded eyes and a yawn. he doesn't know how to read the expression on your face. he swings his legs off the sofa in a sitting position, wearing nothing but his boxers and tee, visibly alarmed. "what happened? are you okay?"

you take his face in your hands and kiss him. 

taehyung stiffens against you, breath drawn thin. you pull away to gauge his expression, desperately searching his eyes in the darkness. for discomfort, disapproval, anything negative at all. the absolute ardour you find instead could knock you down if taehyung didn't reach for your neck, kissing you again. you whine at the feel of his tongue, having no idea where such sudden and intense arousal was coming from. when you pull away with shaky limbs, you climb onto his thick thighs so he can feel your wetness through his boxers. taehyung grunts at the sensation, and again when you kiss him passionately and without abandon. the sweet girl every guy he knew was agonising over, suddenly in his lap. he's barely had his tongue down your throat for ten minutes and you're already rocking into him, his erection betraying his resolve.

it's better than he dreamed. 

"taehyung," you gasp, palming him now. he groans when he pulls away to look at your mouth, glistening with his saliva when you take his hand and guide it down to your arousal. "please."

#jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #jungkook au #bts x reader #bts au #jungkook scenario #bts scenario #jimin x reader #jimin x you #jimin au #bts fic #jungkook fic #jimin fic #jungkook college au #jimin college au #bts college au #myfic

[aliwritesss]

~ Labyrinth

Pairings: Eric x reader

Genre: fuckboy au!

Warnings: angst, slightly suggestive, slow burn, swearing

Based on this AU! Highly recommended to read it before you start the series, but can be read alone.

1/? Masterlist

-“… And remember! The deadline for the essay is in three weeks.”- You hear your History teacher’s voice but no one listens to him. The bell just ringed and that meant freedom.

-“ It’s Friday!!! Let’s do something fun.” You hear Kevin’s voice next to you. You thank the heavens and stars to have him in your life, you don’t know what you would have done without him all this time.

-“ What are you thinking?”

-“ Well… You know, everyone’s been on the edge these past months with the exams and all. So Juyeon thought I’d be fun to do a small gathering, only close friends.” He says with the smallest voice and you feel all your body tense up. If you knew one thing is that you couldn’t go to parties, not yet. Not when it’s been so long since you’ve seen him and you’re actually starting to move on. To wake up and not think of him.

-“ It sounds fun! But I think I’m gonna pass this time, I better start working on this assignment.”

-“ Cmon (Y/N), it’s been a month. You gotta go to your old self, I miss you. I miss us having fun.” It pains your heart to hear Kevin, you’d love to have the balls to go to their dorms and be yourself, to dance again till you can’t stand up, to laugh freely but you feel that the spark inside of you has died and you’re afraid that if you go, it won’t light up anymore.

-“ I promise you I’ll go back to my old self. You’ll get back your partner in crime, my little moon.” You say hugging him and exiting the class. -“ Just give me a little bit and you’ll get back your star.”

-“ The world better get ready once the moon and star duo comes back.” He says giving you one of his best smiles and you feel a little bit better. You’ve known him for so long and clicked since then. One day you two were in class and someone said you looked like the team rocket from Pokémon, always together being mischievous. And since then you baptized your friendship as the moon and star duo.

As you walk outside you feel his comment nag you in the back of your head. “Why do I have to feel so bad when he’s doing fine? Was everything a lie? Did he truly love me?” These thoughts have been bugging you lately and you’re starting to get annoyed. You thought you were doing fine but sometimes these dark clouds will come and shake you down. And it seems like today was one of these days.

“ So… Juyeon is doing a gathering huh? Do you realize that it means half of the campus is going, right?”

-“ Yeah… We told him only close people and Changmin said that meant around 50 friends.” He says, rolling his eyes. -“ Thank god we have Sangyeon and Jacob to keep him in check or else It’d be a nightmare.” And that makes you laugh because it’s true, you remember one night you were staying the night in their dorms and suddenly Sunwoo and Chanhee started arguing about the smallest thing. Sangyeon only needed to look at them to make them stop. It was so funny, you don’t want to mess with an angry Sangyeon to be honest.

-“ And… Here we go. I knew it.” You hear Kevin’s annoyed voice. -“ They’re asking me to buy drinks, it seems like more people are coming tonight. I have to go now bubs, but we should do something fun this weekend okay? Just the two of us.” He says while hugging you and you nod. Maybe that’s what you need, to start slowly coming out of your cave.

You start making your way to your dorm thinking about the million things you have to get done in these two weeks and you can feel your anxiety already coming. The pressure you’ve been feeling these past few days it’s getting worse everyday. And the worst of it, it’s that you don’t have anyone to talk about it. Unconsciously, you touch your necklace, feeling a little bit better. You look down to the tiny shiny star and remember the night he gave it to you.

-“ I’ll be your star, ready to guide you even in the darkest times, even when there’s no moon shining.” He said softly in your neck. You smiled at him and looked at the charm. It was a little star filled with crystals. Stunning.

-“ When you feel like giving up, remember that I’ll be here with you. Faintly.” Eric said, touching your necklace.

“Where are you now? Where are you now when I need you the most?” You think for yourself, It’s not like you weren’t starting to move on from him, which you are doing. But you were not forgetting him, and you wish you could.

You wish you could erase all these sweet moments, act like nothing happened. Act like him, cold and unbothered. Why did him have to play you? Was everything a lie? Everything he said, was just a trap to only have fun with you? You couldn’t trust your memories, it seems like you only could remember the good ones.

But what about that night you two had a fight on a party because he was with this girl, laughing and talking the whole night while you were alone? You still remember his words: “ Stop being a pain in the ass, if I wanted to hook up with her dont you think I would have already done it?”. And you being a silly naive girl in love, acted like it didn’t hurt you. Like he didnt had the power to destroy you in matter of seconds if he wanted.

And that was the reason you broke up with him.

Everyone knew you were his girl and god forbid anyone who dared to touch you. But that’s it, you were only that, his girl. He didn’t bother to put a label, you were there for him and that was enough.

-“ Eric what are we doing?”- You asked him the night you two broke up.

-“ What do you mean?”-

-“ What are we doing together? What is this? Are we exclusive? Are we truly in a relationship?”- You asked trembling, you weren’t ready to hear his answer.

-“ Not this again (Y/N). I told you I don’t want to talk about it and you keep bringing this up. I said you are my girl and that should be enough.”-

-“ But it isn’t. It isn’t when there’s a queue of girls waiting for you to get tired of me and drop me like a toy. And I had enough, I need to know what I am to you.” You said sitting in his bed.

-“ You are making me tired with all these questions. I said drop it, (Y/N). You know how I am and still chose to be here with me.”-

-“ I chose you bc you said that you couldn’t do this without me, Eric! You told me that I was special and-.”

-“ So? That gives you the right to be called my girlfriend?”- And that was the last straw. You couldn’t believe what you were hearing, it’s like someone snapped you back to reality. Like you just woke up from a beautiful dream and got hit with the true world.

He loved you, but not in the right way.

He cared about you, but not enough.

You got dressed and started to pick yoiur things while crying. You needed to get out as soon as possible, even if it was 3 in the morning.

-“Cmon (Y/N) don’t be like this. I got mad and you know I say things I regret later. Please let’s talk in the morning when we are calm, okay? Babe please-“

-“ Don’t touch me, Eric. I’ve had enough. I can’t keep doing this. I can’t keep falling in love with you more and more when we are not in the same page. Not even in the same book.”- You said putting on your sweatshirt, well, his sweatshirt now yours.

-“ Are you serious? Are you going to be like this? After all we’ve been through?”-

-“ Exactly, after all we’ve been through you still think I don’t deserve to be your girlfriend. And let me correct you, you’re the one who doesn’t deserve to be my boyfriend. I’m tired of your shit.”

-“ I know you’re angry (Y/N) but I swear if you leave this room that’s it.”- He said staring at you. You gave him one last smile and closed the door. It was so late at night and you decided to bring this topic up… That was a stupid move of you to be honest, but it needed to be done.

You can feel your vision getting blurry with all the tears falling but you don’t care anymore.

-“ Star? Is everything ok?”- you feel Kevin’s sleepy voice coming from the other side of the hallway and you let out a sob. -“ Hey, Hey. What happened bubs? Why are you crying? Where’s Eric?”-

-“ I… I- I think we just broke up.” You said hugging him and starting to sob even harder.

- “ Oh gosh…” He said quietly while stroking your hair.

And after that everything was a blur, you only remember him and Haknyeon taking you to your dorm and sleeping there. Everyone knew what happened because they heard you two arguing but no one could bring the topic up. It was typical of you two to argue, but in a matter of hours everything was cleared. But this time was different and both of you knew it.

This time the damage was done and there was no going back now.

A/N: So it’s finally here!! The first chapter of this little series. Thanks to all of you for liking so much the AU and for telling me what you preferred to see on this series. It’ll be after the break up, but I thought it’d be nice to have a little context of why did the discussion happen and to see the dynamic of the relationship. Honestly speaking, I love Eric’s fuckboy vibes so much.. But still it pains me to see him acting this way :( I apologise for any typo or mistake! And remember you can ask in the comments or dms to be tagged and that requests are open!!

TAGLIST: @asherbl @fairycob @givememunjang

#tbz #the boyz #tbz x reader #tbznetwork #the boyz au #the boyz drabbles #the boyz imagines #the boyz scenarios #the boyz series #eric sohn #the boyz eric #tbz imagines #tbz scenarios #tbz eric #tbz angst #tbz drabbles

[markets]

so twitter is here now huh

welcome! twitter is hell so glad to have you guys. im doing the same thiing everyone else is doing, tumblr advice for new people under the cut, if you dont feel like reading it all the most important things are in bold (click keep reading):

- since its relevant, if a post is very long use one of those things ^ so that its more comfortable for people scrolling! its the one on the right below. theres no character limit on here so please use this when necessary lol

- reblogging stuff you like is important, especially art and writing! thats really the only way to push content on here and the like to rb ratio on mcytblr tends to be terrible so its very appreciated. if you REALLY like it you can leave nice comments in the reply section or in the tags as well! people appreciate them a lot :] if you want to rb something but dont want it appearing on your blog right now, theres a little arrow next to the post button and if you click on it, you’ll get the option to queue the post, meaning it appears on your blog later (you can adjust exactly when in the queue settings, found under the little profile icon)

- you can choose how private you want to be. ive seen so many people be like “dont say your name. dont say your age. dont make an intro post.” or “put your entire medical history in your carrd” but i feel like you can choose how you want to present yourself on here! you dont have to say anything about yourself if you want, or you can make a fun intro post/carrd with the things you like, or you can just say your name (or moniker), whether youre a minor or not, and pronouns, or anything else! its up to you, and here you dont really have to worry about getting doxxed so. obviously dont give out your address or anything but yeah :]

- ^kind of going off what i just said, if you want friends on here, you can make an intro/looking for mutuals post and put your interests in the tag section! thats how i found lots of my mutuals. honestly just use the tags in general, because its the only way to get your posts out there other than rbs and its much better than speaking into the void. dont put tags unrelated to the post itself though, people dont really like it. tumblr prioritizes the first 5 tags on a post ive heard, so be mindful of that, especially if youre an artist or writer!

- on the subject of tags, if youre going to critique a dsmp character, feel free to do so, just tag it appropriately! for example, if youre making a post that criticizes c!philza, tag it as #c!philza critical. also, please dont tag dsmp/mcyt posts as mine//craft or mine//blr (censoring it so it doesnt appear in the search), people who just want to hear about the game dont appreciate it. also, please dont tag or1gin smp (censoring again) for posts about the hybrid smp with tommy, ranboo, tubbo, etc because an active fandom already uses that tag, use osmp instead :]

- discourse isnt really common on here, but if youre going to talk about it, tag it as #discourse so that people can blacklist it. oh yeah i forgot to talk about that, you can blacklist tags in settings, which is great for triggers or anything you just dont want to see. id suggest blacklisting all forms of whatever the tag is (for example, dont just blacklist #tw gore, blacklist #gore tw, #gore cw, #cw gore, and #gore as well). lots of blogs (like mine) operate on an ask to tag basis, meaning that if you send them an ask asking to tag a specific thing, they will!

- speaking of asks, people love them! ive never met someone who doesnt like getting an ask, regardless of how random it is. if you like someones content or want to be their friend, feel free to send an ask, anonymous or not! i think this goes without saying but just in case, sending anon hate is heavily frowned upon, its kind of a pussy move as well tbh so dont do it

- other than the occasional weirdo mcytblr/dsmpblr is pretty chill, so try not to start fights in main tags for no reason lol please i dont want to have to migrate to linkedin or some shit. if you see something you dont like, the best move is to just block them and move on. literally just block anyone you dont like itll make everything so much more pleasant i promise. however if you do want to start a fight my asks are always open <3333

overall, just dont be an asshole and have fun!! here are some blogs id recommend following: 

mine lol pls give me clout, @relaxxationattack, @cyani07, @night-and-dae, @otteritos, @esclapo, @periwinklemoonlight, @minecraftsz, @timedeo, @poorlydrawndsmp, @tittybitch, @lnniter​​, @girlbossinnit,​ @trickszie​ (if youre on here we’re mutuals and/or i think you’re really cool so hiiii)

#tumblrientation #mcytblr #mcyt #dsmpblr #dsmp #dream smp #angiemarkets.txt #swearing #mcyttwt #dsmptwt