#it's all well and good to want things and strive for them but there comes a point where certain things are simply unattainable

[daisykihannie]

Skz Bedroom Dynamics

a/n: have this as an apology for not having part 2 of Sex demon Jisung out yet. i literally wrote the chapter 3 times and hated it. That being said, i hope to have it out asap. Thank you for being patient.

Chan: Pleasure Switch

He strives off being useful

Doesn’t even need to finish if he can have his partner falling apart on his tongue

A munch but to the point where he gets off on it

He will let his partner use him as a sex toy

His enjoyment depends on his partners

Could be a switch but it’d take a lot for him to sub since he wants to be the one taking care of his partner more than he wants to be taken care of

“you taste so fucking good~ god i wanna taste you forever. please cum on my tongue again, please please please? i’ve been so good, cum again for me please.”

Minho: Dominant

He’s a sadistic fuck istg

edge, edge, more edging. Will not let his partner cum till he feels like they earned it.

He loves having his partner fully under his control

Could top or bottom but if he bottoms he’s a power bottom

Not a submissive bone in his body istg

Even when he’s all soft and his partner thinks he will sub for them, he’ll give puppy dog eyes while having full control

“you like that slut? taking me so well, you’re perfect. You can hear how well i fill you up with the disgusting sounds your hole is making around my cock.”

Changbin: Switch

He’s a soft bunny gym bro, what did you expect?

Will give you whiplash with how quick he could be whimpering and begging for more then flip everything and have his partner in a headlock while getting pounded into the mattress

He needs to be able to dominate and be dominated or he just will not be properly satisfied

Best boy, your pleasure is his number one priority but getting himself off his a close second.

He’d manhandle his partner while they use him as a sex toy istg

He just wants to be good for you, really.

“fuck… s’good- you’re all mine, only i can make you feel this good. my cock was made for you.”

Hyunjin: Pillow Princess

I’m sorry but i can’t see him being super into having control

He wants to be used, borderline abused, etc.

He will lay there all pretty for his partner while the ride him

Or will be the prettiest bottom

He’ll be so vocal and make sure you know just how good you’re making him feel

“Mmm yes! feels so good- deep inside mommy/daddy. am i being a good boy, making mommy/daddy feel good?”

Jisung: Switch

He is a messy messy boy and a bit lazy when it comes to sex

His laziness often makes him seem like a sub but he wants to pin his partner to the bed and ruin them, it’s just too much work and he’s eepy

Vocal as hell. Will not shut up but in the best way

When he does have the energy to take over just how he wants, his partner will need 3-5 business days to recover.

Sloppiest and horniest man alive so the more rounds he goes, the messier things get, more rounds he will be going.

“You feel so fucking good wrapped around me. See how well i fill you up? You were made to have my cock inside of you.”

Felix: Pleasure Sub

i cannot see this man being dominant to save his life

he’s just a pretty boy who wants to be taken care of, nothing wrong with that.

Not a pillow princess and will put in the work to have himself begging to cum

loves to hear how useful he is as his partners personal sex toy

it’s like his life depends on making his partner feel good and being the best toy they have.

“am i doing a good job? making you feel good? will you let me cum if i do a good enough job?”

Seungmin: Switch

dude isn’t represented as a dog for nothing

will go into heat istg, it doesn’t matter if he’s hitting fucked, if he’s fucking, if he has control, or he’s at his partner’s mercy. He just needs to get his dick wet.

will in fact go for hours on end till he’s having dry orgasm and will probably still keep going

he will be mean in the best ways possible as either a sub or a dom

he can live without one or the other. if his partner is a sub he can be the dom and if his partner is a dom then he can be the sub.

“Already gonna cum again? you’ve barely used me for 10 minutes. Am i really that good or are you just pathetic? It’s sad how desperately your slutty hole is clamping around me, can’t you not get off without me?”

Jeongin: Pleasure Dom

Again, his orgasms only come after his partner cums multiple times

Best boy who depends on making his partner go dumb in his cock or fingers

The only thing he cares about is making his partner feel so good and cum so many times that they go brain dead

If by the time his satisfied with the amount of times his partner came and they’re too tired to continue he’ll just jerk himself off to the sight of them so fucked out and thinking about just how useful he was

“You’re being so good for me, cumming so much. Are you gonna be good and cum again? You’ve got one more in you, i know you do. You can do it, i’ve got you. Just one more please, cum for me one more time.”

#skz smut #skz #stray kids #skz imagines #straykids smut #hard thoughts #skz hard thoughts #chan hard thoughts #minho hard thoughts #changbin hard thoughts #hyunjin hard thoughts #han hard thoughts #felix hard thoughts #seungmin hard thoughts #jeongin hard thoughts

[orcelito]

My druid has "fuckboy" written all over her

#speculation nation #shes a druid but she does Not look it. nor does she act like it really. #druid stuff exists to beef myself up as a front liner (spores druid ftw) #and to act as an excuse like 'whaaaat why r u so suspicious of me im a druid 🥺🥺🥺 i just want what's best for nature 🥺🥺🥺' #meanwhile here i am hogging ALL the worms we manage to find (or. well. most of them.) #bc im going full ham into my powers lol theyre so useful #this is a game of pressing Every button and seeing what happens. yet still going along the lines of good? approximately? #it very much does feel like the kind of thing a druid drow would do. willing to consort with the darkness #but still ultimately striving for peace and order. #i am just perhaps a little bug-brained to accomplish this :3 #ive been playing a Lot of bg3. progressing well through act 2. everything is so very scary and i am just 1 druid 🥺 #(i say as if i havent killed literally every single enemy ive come across. im so fucking good at this game.) #the house of healing was by far my least favorite part (so far). that boss battle was TERRIBLE but i managed to get through it. #according to my friends they just talked their way out of it. not me tho. i saw that guy strapped to the table and i was just like #'GET FUCKED BRO' *casts moonbeam* *proceeds to get the shit stabbed outta me* #holy shit he did so much damage. and he was focused ONLY ON ME....... #took me and shadowheart both healing to keep up with the damage he was doing (while astarion and karlach did most of the attacking) #but i did it! hes gone! but holy shit poking around his stuff has been so. eugh. #im in the towers now. so scary. just barely started them tho. gonna look for the prisoners and then proceed from there. #that ketheric dude is fucking terrifying. so big scared about him. but All Men Die The Same 😈 #.....well maybe not exactly the same given his 'immortality' thing 😂 but i'll figure it out. #anyways yea check out taltana im going for a mixed feminine and masculine kinda vibes with her. and enjoying it very much. #bg3 spoilers/

[yuribalisms]

Essentially what it is all boiling down to is I have fully realized I am bad at being a person, that will always be true, and I don’t know how to handle that

#I’m going to be depressing and self depreciating in the tags so. fair warning to anyone who reads them #I’ve known for a while now that I don’t know what to do with my life. I’ve thought of a few ideas but none of them seem to be working. and I #think a good chunk of what it’s boiling down to is that I am quite literally just stupid when it comes to an actual useful real life skills. #and it’s frustrating because I can’t even talk to ppl I know and confide in them that I feel dumb and stupid without them being like ‘nooooo #don’t say that! you’re not stupid! you were top of your class in hs!’ (that is their favorite thing to fall back on) but like. the thing is #I wasn’t even smart in hs. sure I did good but that’s because I cheated my way through and got lucky a lot. I never actually learned anythin #I never understood what I was being taught or how to apply it. I was good at English and art classes and that was it those were the only one #I truly felt I knew what I was doing in and grasped the subject matter well. I know I’m good at those two things and smart when it comes to #those subjects. but the thing is. in real life. both of those are useless skills. I can’t make money with them and it is highly unlikely #that will ever change. and yes I know not being able to make money with it doesn’t mean it’s useless but like it kinda does. capitalism #sucks. I know that. we all do. but that doesn’t change that we live in a capitalist society and it’s unlikely to actual change in my lifetim #so I’m stuck to try and figure out how to live in it. but I have no skills I can make money with so I will live my entire life poor and #miserable and working dead end jobs that make me want to kill myself. I’m not good at socialization I’m so fucking bad at it so I can’t work #any kind of job that hinges on networking or sales or human interaction which is MOST JOBS but I’m also too stupid for anything related to #STEM. I tried two different stem degrees and flunked out of both of them because I am a FUCKING IDIOT and I know there’s no point in trying #to go back to school for another one. but no degree in anything I naturally have a knack for will help me find a decent well paying job. ill #just be wasting my money to go to school for something like that. and then like. I don’t even think I’ll ever get married and I def won’t #ever have kids. so I can’t even put any hopeful stock in just being happy with a family one day. I know a lot of ppl who don’t like their #careers but they’re fine with that because they’re happy with their family but like I don’t even have that and I won’t ever have that. I #have NOTHING to strive for and NOTHING I am good at that’s meaningful I’m going to fail at having a career and a family and I know that #doesn’t mean I won’t be happy in theory but by societal standards I am and always will be a fucking failure of a person and since I do live #in this society yeah. it’s kinda fucking true. and I don’t know what to do about that. I’m just tired. I’m tired of being afraid and #struggling and going through patches of wanting to kill myself because of this because like what’s the point. I’ll never have anything #better so what in the actual hell is the point of me existing. and I know I’m being ridiculous and my brain is eating itself and none of #this is probably even true but that doesn’t change that it FEELS like it is a lot of times and esp right now and I don’t know what to do #to anyone who reads this I’ll be fine tbh prob as soon as tomorrow like dw about it I just need to get it out so I stop stewing in it. #I’m just. yeah. not having a great time rn but I left work so I’m gonna cry and then maybe sleep for a bit and hope that helps #kaz rambles

[kelseytheballerina]

Reflections on building a better me

Exercise is not optional. Mental satisfaction from completing yet another workout cannot be overstated. Physical satisfaction from feeling good and enjoying your body in clothes, the mirror, and photos cannot be overstated. Stop messing around, stop info hoarding, go exercise. And tomorrow. And the next day. And the next day. And the next day.

Looking your best depending on circumstances (ie, casual, dressy, bedtime, etc) is not optional. External confidence from taking care of your appearance top to bottom and loving what you see in the mirror is highly valuable.

You feel better when you eat better. You’re proud of yourself when you eat better.

Hobbies, hobbies, hobbies. Do you feel embarrassed when someone asks what you do all day and you can’t come up with an honest answer that doesn’t make you sound like a loser with no life? You need hobbies. Some that are outdoors, some that are indoors. Some that are taxing, some that are relaxing. You will enjoy life more, become a more well-rounded individual, and have positive ways to spend your time rather than racking up more hours on your phone. Get some hobbies. Plural.

Procrastination and laziness should disgust you. You shouldn’t be able to relate. You should strive to be above that. You like yourself better when you complete your tasks and get things done in a timely manner. You’re proud of yourself when you’re on a roll and have a productive streak. You’re impressed by productive people and no one likes a lazy bum.

Decide what you want from life and pursue it ruthlessly. Don’t take advice from people who don’t have the life you want, unless they were once on your desired path and fell off. Even then, you listen to them when they say what NOT to do (learning from their mistakes) but clearly they don’t know what TO do bc they didn’t make it to the finish line. Take “do this” advice from people who crossed the finish line and have what you want. You’ll find that the amount of input that is actually valuable to you has suddenly dwindled. Good. Less chatter in your ears.

Get yourself in order before you go around critiquing everyone else. Get YOUR face in order. Get YOUR body right. Get YOUR money up. Get YOUR style in order. Get YOUR relationship together.

Stop coming to everyone for validation like a toddler. Validate yourself. Do you like it? Okay then. Are you over it? Okay then. Stop being so weak. Stand tall, lead yourself. Stop being such a follower.

Be a good person. Help your family, lend a hand to strangers, give back, say sorry, do things for loved ones just because, show affection, work things out, watch your mouth, speak respectfully, remember that the world owes you nothing. Stop being an insufferable freak.

You can’t change anyone but yourself. Get yourself in order and be a good role model. That’s all you can do. Give people advice when they want it and then go about your business. Get yourself in order. Get yourself in order.

Outrage content is the lowest form of entertainment. Engage in things that make you happy or educate you. Doom scrolling only leads to doom. Don’t like this person? Don’t click on their articles or videos. Unfollow and block. Don’t like these people? Leave their spaces. You don’t have to be outraged every day.

Always keep your word to yourself. Make a plan, stick to the plan, always deliver. If you can’t be reliable for yourself then who can you be reliable for?

#yours truly ♡

[thebibliosphere]

One of the really fun and interesting things about writing a polyamorous romance as someone who is ambiamorous/polyamorous is finding new ways to make sure the narrative hits the expected genre beats without just sort of... mushing it into a pre-existing monogamous romance mold, which is what I'm afraid happens a lot of the time.

Trust me, it was my job in the publishing house to make them fit that mold. I hated it.

Reading other poly-centric romances, I can always somewhat tell when someone is writing polyamory from a sexual fantasy aspect (zero shade; I'm here for all the group sex) without actually considering how it functions as a relationship dynamic, which can often come off as... well.

It's lacking for me as a romance.

Erotica-wise, it's fine. But it misses the romantic beats for me that I want as a polyamorous-leaning person.

There's so much emphasis on the polycule and never the individual dyads within the larger relationship.

For example, in a triad, there are actually four relationships to handle.

The dyad between A + B. The dyad between A + C. The dyad between B + C. And the overarching relationship between A + B + C.

With monogamous-leaning authors or authors that've been pressed into conforming to the pre-existing genre beats, there's a tendency to treat the relationship as a homogenous mass where everything is fair and equal, and you treat all your partners the exact same way.

And I get it. It's easier to write everything as peachy-keen and to have external conflict be resolved with either acceptance or a brave confrontation.

But it doesn't always land for me as someone who wants to see my style of love represented in the genre.

In healthy polyamory, either closed or open, each relationship is unique in its own way. Taking the example of a triad again, the way A acts with C likely differs from how A acts with B.

And that's a good thing!

Because C might not want the same things as B, so trying to treat them both the exact same is a surefire way to make sure someone isn't getting their needs met, and that will lead to conflict.

Polyamory isn't striving for equality between partners but rather equity.

What are your individual needs, and how do I meet them, as well as meet the needs of my other partner(s)? What do you want from the larger relationship as a whole? How do we accommodate everyone without making someone feel neglected or uncomfortable? How do we show this in the narrative? How do we make sure character A isn't just treating B the same as C in every interaction? Do they ever fall into that pitfall? How do they remedy it?

It seems like common sense when you write it out like that, but it's a major pitfall I see time and time again. The characters never alternate their approach between partners, if there's any focus on the individuals at all.

The other major telltale thing I've noticed is that taking time to be with one partner is seen as a step down from the "goal" of the greater polycule.

The narrative is framed in such a way that they might start out with individual dates, but the end goal of the romance is to eventually be together 100% of the time all the time, and wanting individual time alone with any one partner is somehow "lesser."

Which is the goal of romance in monogamy, but it's not the goal of romance in polyamory.

Granted, you do need to end on a Happy Ever After or Happy For Now for it to fit the genre requirement. And a nice way of tying that up is to have everyone together at the end as a happy polycule all together all at once. I'm not disputing that as a narrative tool. I'm just pointing out that there's a tendency to present those moments as the sum total of the relationship when in actuality, there are multiple relationships that need to end happily ever after.

The joy of polyamorous love is the joy of multitudes. It's the joy of experiencing new things, both as individuals and as a polycule. If you're not taking care of the individual dyads, however, your polycule is going to crash and burn. You cannot avoid that. So why, then, is there such avoidance of it in stories meant to appeal to us?

Is it simply inexperience on behalf of the author? Or is it that they're not actually being written for us? Is it continued pressure to meet certain genre beats in a largely monogamous-centric genre? All of the above?

Either way, I'm having fun playing around with it and doing all the things we were warned against in the publishing house.

I'm having fun with Nathan and Vlad enjoying their own private dynamic that is theirs and theirs alone. I'm having fun with Ursula and Nathan being so careful and vulnerable around each other. I'm absolutely 100% here for the chaos of Vlad and Ursula without a chaperone. And I'm here for the chaos of Vlad and Ursula together and Nathan's fond, loving eye roll as he trails after them, too enamored to tell either of them no because where would the fun in that be...

Anyway. Don't mind me. Just getting my thoughts out while everyone else is in bed.

#long post #rambling with joy #I see so many interesting stories just sort of... neglect the dyads in the end #and it makes me sad #I wish it happened less

[noxtivagus]

i'm sorry

#🌙.tbd #i'm really not doing well right now but i'll be alright #sometimes i wish i cld just be perfect. to be good enough for my family to be good enough for this world. but it's.. never enough is it? #but wanting to do so much wishing i cld do everything so well for my sake n yours just loses the whole point of it #being human is such a delicate thing. so easily broken. perhaps life is just one big piece of glass. a mirror #n the ppl around us r just reflections. through the way we look through the glass. #n when shards break you can't really put them back together huh? #it hurts when everywhere i go i see what is lacking. n simultaneously see the full of it #but i can't convey it enough to the world. how much i care n love for everything.. how much i appreciate like. what my parents do for me n #everything n even if there's also sm mistakes n i'm full of flaws too #goddamn. being human is just too delicate. it's too delicate #but there's no such thing as too much i would like to think when it comes to human nature #n i wish i cld erase all my wrongs. all my flaws. but what meaning would there be if everything was just perfection? #where would be the meaning in the joys of life without knowing the sorrows? #n while it is painful to live with it. to live with all of it. it's. part of life n being human but #i wish i cld at least. be enough to prove my apologies. to prove how much i really love the people in my life. how much i appreciate it all #n so.. part of life is always striving for something better is it? to keep on doing more. its so tiring n i wonder at times if its worth it #ah. i was going to write something but i just forgot. #moving on though it just.. rlly hurts n i'm rlly sorry. #being human is so delicate n so complex n confusing. #but apologizing for being human is.. i don't know it'll be rather funny in a way bcs aren't we all human here? #but i wish i was a better human. i think sometimes that i wld be willing to trade some of my humanity for the sake of others #but would that be selfish instead? being human is so real & unreal n it's just. weird. but so simple too #it's as though my own head is in a constant battle in a dystopian fiction. but not really bcs perhaps this too really is part of being human #& i know nothing with certainty n with a profound conclusion but being human is just. something i can't ever quite properly grasp #there's nothing in this universe that we could ever grasp entirely. so much so as another human. #but i think.. every little thing has astronomical worth. at least to me. but i'm an infenitesimal human in the grand expanse of it #i wish that at least in my own little world. i could set things right & live on. #not everything will go how it 'should be' for such is the nature of life; largely imperfect & with end #but. yk. weird how that gives meaning too huh? but it hurts to think too much of it

[persefolli]

𝐊𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐚'𝐬 𝐚 𝐁𝐢𝐭𝐜𝐡

𝟏𝟎𝟎𝟎 𝐅𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐒𝐏𝐄𝐂𝐈𝐀𝐋!!!!!!!

𝐀/𝐧: 𝐆𝐮𝐲𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐤 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐒𝐎 𝐒𝐎 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐥𝐩𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐦𝐞 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐜𝐡 𝟏,𝟎𝟎𝟎 𝐟𝐨𝐥𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬. 𝐖𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈 𝐛𝐞𝐜𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐚𝐠𝐚𝐢𝐧 𝐈 𝐝𝐢𝐝 𝐍𝐎𝐓 𝐞𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐜𝐭 𝐦𝐲 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤 𝐭𝐨 𝐦𝐚𝐤𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐧𝐨𝐢𝐬𝐞 𝐚𝐬 𝐢𝐭 𝐝𝐢𝐝. 𝐈 𝐚𝐦 𝐯𝐞𝐫𝐲 𝐡𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐚𝐩𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐜𝐢𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐠𝐮𝐲𝐬'𝐬 𝐬𝐮𝐩𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐭. 𝐈'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐭𝐨𝐫𝐲 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐰𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐞 𝐬𝐨 𝐈 𝐡𝐨𝐩𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐨𝐲!!!

𝐏𝐚𝐢𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠: 𝐓𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐢 𝐱 𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐁𝐮𝐥𝐥𝐲𝐢𝐧𝐠, 𝐀𝐧𝐠𝐬𝐭, 𝐒𝐦𝐮𝐭

𝐒𝐮𝐦𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐲: 𝐑𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐢𝐬 𝐬𝐨 𝐦𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐬𝐰𝐞𝐞𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐢𝐭'𝐬 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐛𝐞𝐬𝐭 𝐟𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐝𝐬 𝐜𝐫𝐮𝐬𝐡

You looked at Ronal with a sad look as she laughed along with her clique. They were currently laughing at your outfit, which was a little…odd to say the least. What hurt most is that Ronal had picked the outfit for you, and assured you that you looked just fine.

The two of you have been best friends for years, and the older the two of you grew the more…bitchy Ronal became. It got bad in highschool, to a point where you stopped attending for some time. After a huge fallout with her friends, Ronal came back running, and you let the feeling of nostalgia make your decision in forgiving her.

You graduated together and went on a journey of womanhood after turning 18. It wasn’t just you two though, you accumulated a very well known friendgroup in Awa’atlu, and everyone wanted to get in with the crew, but lately they’ve turned you into the punching bag of the group. 

“I’m gonna change.” You mumbled, walking off from the group and heading home, where you were gonna mope the rest of the night.

“Oof-” You grunted bumping into someone. Looking up you made eye contact with Tonowari, the future Olo’eyktan of the clan. “I’m sorry!” You nodded your head towards him and looked at him for approval. 

Tonowari was quiet, popular, but quiet. He mastered a lot of adult-like duties as a teenager, which made him a very tough warrior for his class. All the guys in your age group strived to be like him, if not, they wanted to look like him. He was tall, pretty, had nice hair, and smelled really good. Tonowari was humble. Even though he would lead the clan one day, he still opted to be treated like everyone else. 

God you were swooning again, like every other girl in the clan. 

Tonowari quirked his eyebrow and patted your shoulder. “It’s alright.” He said lowly. “Stay safe.” Tonowari jogged off to the beach, where his friends stood whooping and celebrating his arrival. 

You found yourself staring at him, looking at the way he smiled once he came in contact with his bro’s, but you snapped out of it realizing how wrong it was. 

Ronal had a big crush on Tonowari for a while, and with her popularity it was a slim chance he would reject her. Everyone shipped them together, and although Tonowari has yet to acknowledge her, Ronal relished the title of his future girlfriend and most likely, Tsahik. 

At home you changed your clothes, and began cleaning for the night, getting rid of your dinner bowls and laundry you’d done before you went out today. As the eclipse settled, you waited for the dreaded beast herself. 

“Y/n.” Ronal came knocking at the door. You huffed, folding one of your spare loincloths. You didn’t turn to face her as she approached. It was the same cycle of embarrassing you, apologizing in private, and doing the same thing the next day. 

“You should've come back.”

“I was embarrassed!” You snapped at her. 

“The top was fine, no one has perfect taste.”

You clenched the clothes and slowly turned your head to her. The audacity of this bitch! She was the one who got you the top, and told you that it flattered you compared to your normal clothing. Not wanting to explode, you nodded, turning back and doing your laundry. 

“Remember the bonfire is tomorrow, wear cute clothes.”

“What will you be wearing?” You asked.

“Something that will catch my future husband's attention.” Ronal twirled and chuckled. “Tonowari’s coming, heard from a birdie.”

“Oh.” You said. “Bumped into him today, he was going riding with the others.”

Ronal fell silent, and wasn’t in your line of sight. Suddenly you were spun around, Ronal in your face and nails dug into your shoulders. “What did he say? What did you say to him?”

“I apologized and he told me it was okay and to be safe.” You said swiftly, wincing in pain from her nails. Ronal let go and hissed at you, “Next time just walk off.”

---

The next day you spent inside, sewing decorations onto your top for the bonfire tonight. The bonfire was an annual celebration for the young adults of Awa’atlu, it was the only night you could let loose with no consequences. You and Ronal went every year, watching as guys set fire to large piles of wood and wrastle over stupid banters.

You braided pieces of your hair and pulled the braids back, curating some sort of half-up half down style. You were meeting Ronal at the bonfire, since she opted to show up after everyone else.

When you were ready you waited until the eclipse to leave your home, you merged into another group of Metkayina members who were heading to the other side of the reef as well. You looked into the sky and saw the hue of light coming from somewhere on the ground. Smoke rose from the fire and you sniffed, smiling at the smell of burnt wood spreading across the reef. 

Nights like this were really fun, it was a night you didn’t have to worry about hanging out with just Ronal and her minions. It was also a night you finally got a little attention from guys. 

You arrived at the sectioned off part of the reef with the group, eyes lighting up at the crowds of na’vi dancing and running around. People had already gotten their fix of drinks and rolled around in the sand drunkenly. “Y/n over here!” You heard a voice call you over. You looked and saw a person from you and Ronal’s friend group calling you over. 

“Hi guys!” You walked over and hugged the girl, taking the extra drink she had in her hand. 

“Ronal hasn’t come yet?” You asked. 

She shook her head. “You know how she gets. And look who's already here.” She pointed straight and you followed her finger to see Tonowari. He sat on a large stray branch, looking around at his friends that were chatting. He wore a beautiful necklace and his hair was prettily braided into rows that formed a bun at the top part of his head, the rest of his silky hair flowed beautifully down his back, going past his shoulders. Once again you were staring, but snapped out of it as cheering began. You looked over to see Ronal approaching, wearing a dramatic headdress and jewelry to complement it. 

You began clapping, inviting her over to your large group of friends who waited on her. 

“The queen has arrived.” Ronal twirled in front of you. She glared at you but slowly smiled. “You look nice.”  She commented. 

“Thanks. Wanted to try something new.”

“Better than yesterday's fit.” The na’vi who were there to witness the incident began snickering, causing you to frown. 

You shook your head and raised your empty cup. “I’m gonna go drink.” You made your exit from the crowd and found refuge near the drink table, where all sorts of intoxicated people hung out. “Fill me up.” You slid your cup over to the ‘bartender’ and watched as he filled your cup with a red substance. Nodding at him you took the full cup and began wandering around, looking at the different things people were doing. 

As you stood alone, feet planted in the sand, you felt a pair of eyes watching you. You looked around, attempting to find the source of attention but couldn't. 

“Hey.”

You jumped, looking at the tall Metkayina male next to you. “Hi.” You softly smiled. He'd probably been the source of eyes.

“Remember me? We met last year.”

You quirked an eyebrow and inspected the male one more time. It took you a few moments but you perked up. “Oh yeah! The one from the keg stand.”

“In the flesh.” He chuckled.

“How have you been? I haven't seen you around.”

He sighed, “Busy as fuck. Training to become the general.”

“This young?!”

“Yeah.” He smiled. “I gotta get up there with the rest.” You nodded in agreement. A lot of the Metkayina males were very ambitious at a young age, so hearing what he was aiming for didn't come as a surprise.

“What about you?” He leaned in closer and smiled.

You felt yourself getting nervous, “I-I was thinking about starting a clothing business.”

“Shit, really?” He said hyped up. 

“Yeah.” You pulled at the top you were wearing. “I made this.” You displayed the fancy top you were wearing

“You look good in it.” He smiled, licking his bottom lip as he did so. You turned your head to avoid showing him the large smile that was forming on your face.

“How about we ditch this stand and go dance.” He nodded towards the na’vi that were closer to the fire dancing. “Fuck it.” You exclaimed and grabbed his hand as the two of you ran through the crowd to the dancers.

The bass of the drums boomed in your chest and you began dancing. Holding onto the guy's hand, you smiled as you gracefully swayed to the music. Even though it was a lot of people and it wasn't usually your scene, you still managed to block everyone out and have fun.

You allowed him to dance closer to you, grabbing your hips and pulling you in.

“You got better rhythm than me.” He complimented.

“I've been told.” You said cockily. The liquor began to flow through your system the longer the music went on, making your body grow looser.

“Hey Y/n.” 

You spin around to see Ronal getting a little groovy to the music. Internally you groaned but moved over to pull Ronal in to join. 

“Wassup Ronal.” You greeted.

“Nothing. Just wanted to be close to the action.” She began scooting back a little as the guy grabbed your hand and twirled you again.

“Where ya goin?” You asked.

In a flash, everything shifted. You were spun but pushed towards the empty space, and suddenly you were hit with a big wave of juice. The crowd fell silent and you stood in shock, opening your eyes to see you had been drenched in the jungle juice they created.

You looked at Ronal, betrayed. Everyone began laughing, even the guy you danced with.

“That was too good.” He said looking over at Ronal.

She had set you up.

 Every year there was a prank, usually it would be something silly like pushing someone into the ocean or being chased and chanted on by a group of guys, but this one was harsh. Ronal knew you spent time making the outfit for tonight, and she ruined it.

Slowly, you began treading the sand to make it to the main pathway. Tears escaped your eyes as you waddled away, sticky and cold from the nasty substance that was thrown on you. Ronal had gone too far, and this was your last straw with her.

You made your way away from the crowds, and found yourself at a cove further from the village. Once you got inside you yelled, screams echoing off the cave walls. “I hate her!” You screamed.

You whimpered as you peeled your top off, throwing the ruined design down. You slowly climbed into the cove pool, which was typically warm, and began to rub along your skin to get the stickiness off.

“Y/n?” A voice echoed from afar. You quickly used your arms to cover your bare breasts and sunk into the water. Footsteps approached and you began to rage, thinking Ronal was coming after you, but your eyes widened at who was there.

Tonowari stood on the pool edge, looking at you with somber eyes. “I saw what happened.” 

The two of you stared at each other for a few moments in silence. It was awkward considering you'd never interacted before.

“I'm okay.” You responded. 

A few beats of silence passed before he took a seat, feet dangling inside of the pool.

“Why do you let her treat you like that?

“What?”

“She treats you like shit!” He half-yelled. “You're supposed to be best friends yet she sets you up to be pranked and embarrassed.”

You took a deep breath and came to the edge of the pool, resting your arms on the rock and leaning your head above your folded arms.

“It's harder than you think.” You responded. 

“Even so, you don't deserve that. Have you ever thought of getting her back?”  Tonowari asked.

You snapped your head to the young man, confused as to what he was alluding to. He was always so quiet, smart and level headed, this language wasn't like him at all.

“Just one shot to make her sorry.” He continued.

“Sometimes.” You confessed. You planned out so many routes of revenge over the years, which never went through because you were too pussy to go through with it.

“She has everything that you deserve. Friends, Popularity, Dignity. She took that away from you!” He spoke harshly as if he was done wrong. His passion was attractive, but it made you question why he was so riled up.

He slipped into the water, starling you with the splash. Popping up above water he shook his hair. “Follow me.”

He began swimming down the cove, going deeper and deeper into the elongated cave. It grew dark, and you found yourself growing scared, but the two of you emerged, swimming out to a whole new section of the reef.

“Wow.” You said in disbelief, hopping out of the water and approaching the shore.

“Just a little spot I know about.” He said. Your arms were still crossed as you were still topless, but the residue had washed off and you now stood wet in the moonlight.

“Why did you bring me here?” You were genuinely curious as to why he exposed his secret spot to you.

“So you can take something she doesn't have.”

He approached you with a sultry tone.

You turned to him, finally catching on. 

“You know she likes y-”

“Everyone knows. That's why it's gonna hit her harder.”

You looked at him dumbfounded before dropping your arms and smashing into him. The two of you fell to the ground but he recovered by sitting up. You climbed into his lap and kissed him deeply, cupping his face as you did so.  Tonowari leaned back slightly and had one arm wrapped around your back, pulling your lower body closer to him. 

The two of you moaned softly, continuing your attack on each other's lips. Tonowari’s warm hands lingered, before rising to grip at your bare breasts. You pulled away and watched as he kneaded your mounds and pressed kisses along your chest.

“Tonowari.” You said breathlessly. It was surreal to have a man like him under you like this, to actually touch you like this.

“Shhh.” He shushed you and reached for your loincloth, unraveling the back and pulling it to the side. You pushed him away from your chest, reaching for his, but he swiftly flipped the two of you over, so that he was on top and your back touched the sand. He finally allowed you to strip him of his cloth and watch as he sprung free, standing tall and erect for you.

“You see what you do to me?” He groaned.

Slowly you began spreading your legs, and he lodged himself between them, holding the underside of your knees. The two of you shared a moan as he began running his cock between your folds, judging at your clit with every swipe

“Tonowari don't!” You shakily said. You wanted him so bad, so deep, and he was teasing you relentlessly.

“Use your words pretty girl.”

“Don't tease me Wari, I want you.” You moaned out.

He let out a scoff and pulled back, slowly pushing forward and entering your slick hole.

You almost gave yourself a concussion from how hard you slammed your head back into the sand. You dug your nails into his forearms and clenched around him. He was thick, stretching you in ways a normal Metkayina man couldn't.

You held your breath as he continued entering you, pain pulsing through your lower body. Tonowari’s hand trailed to your neck holding a tight grip on you, and using his thumb to pull your bottom lip down. “Breathe for me.”

“Hurts.” You whimpered.  

“Feel me.” Tonowari let go of your thigh and grabbed his braid. 

“Ton-”

“We can worry about it in the morning. Feel how good you make me feel.”

You knew this would be a bad idea, but you connected your braid to his anyway. As soon as tsaheylu was made, you arched off the ground, crying out in pleasure.

“Fuck!” He grunted. Fastening his pace, he let out stained grunts feeling your pain and pleasure mix into one. 

“More! More!” You coaxed him, ready to take him on. The pain was starting to subside but the need for him grew. You spread your legs wider and watched as he drilled into you with his head down, looking right where the two of you connected. 

“You feel so good around m-fuck!” He buried his head into your neck and thrusted faster, enunciating the loud slaps of skin the two of you echoed throughout the beach.

“I'm coming! Wari!!” You dramatically heaved out as you reached your first ever orgasm. 

Tonowari took a few deep breaths before pulling out, and flipping over again. His dick still stood erect, leaking with precum. Your braids were still connected, and you felt his exhaustion, but you also felt his oncoming wave of horniness.

“Make yourself feel good on me.”

You nodded and positioned yourself right above him, closing your eyes and you sunk down onto his length. The both of you let out a moan. “So big.” You stuttered out.

You moved to bounce upon him but he hissed, holding your hips in place. “Take your time with me Y/n.” He leaned back and licked his lips. “Make me work for it.” He began guiding your hips to rock along him slowly. Another wave of pleasure shot through you and you placed a hand on his chest, looking at him with misty eyes.

Tonowari whimpered and panted, driven wild by the way your hips rocked and the way your waist wormed back and forth above him. He wanted you so bad, and boy did you feel it.

You threw your head back and placed your hands on his thighs, giving a full view of his well you were taking him. “M’gonna…” He heaved, “Fill you up.”

This prompted you to lean forward and begin bouncing on him at a faster pace , moaning out his name as you felt him come close to his orgasm. “Fuck Wari!” You yelled out, feeling his orgasm come along. “Shit! Shit Shit!” He let out a long groan as he released into you, twitching inside of you and heaving.

You pulled yourself off of him and threw yourself in the sand next to him, laying on your stomach and panting heavily.

“I'm not finished with you.” 

Your eyes followed him until he disappeared behind you. Tonowari locked his fingers around your hips and pulled your ass up in the air. You waited patiently, expecting him to enter you again, but instead you felt a warm liquid followed by a warm muscle being pressed against your clit. “Oh Wari.” You purred into the sand, gripping at the grainy terrain you laid on top of. 

Tonowari sucked on the nub and released with a pop, groaning and resting his hand upon your ass.  He leaned back in and began running his tongue between your folds, poking and prodding at your fucked out entrance. You throbbed thinking about him licking up his release from your pussy, but your mind quickly blanked as he thrusted his tongue inside of you.

You moaned out loud,  not caring who walked by or who came towards this end of the reef. Tonowari thrived off your noises and began groaning as well, becoming more animated with the slick sounds he was making with his mouth. 

His tongue made contact with your clit again and began flicking at your nub, starting the buildup of tightness that resided in your belly.

“I'm gonna come! Just like that!” You coaxed.

Two of his fingers pressed inside of your hole and he continued to sloppily flick and suck at your clit, holding you steady with his other hand as you trembled.

“Wariiiii!” You screamed as that knot in your stomach snapped. You quivered under his touch. “That's right,” He began rubbing your orgasm out. “Get it out for me, Let it out.”

You clenched your jaw as he began slowing his pace on your pussy, coming to a stop as he knew you were sore by now.  He watched you slump back into the sand, humming out the last bit of energy you had left. You laid with your eyes closed, listening to the thumps of your pulse and the shuffling going on behind you.

“Let's go pretty girl.” Tonowari rolled you over and picked you up, walking you back to your pod with his hands resting on your underside.

---

The next morning you heard nothing but murmuring when you came around. A pit formed in your stomach at the possibility of them knowing what and who you did last night. But you also felt….satisfied. Today you would make it your mission to see Ronal's face, even if it meant a fist would connect to yours.

“Y/n!” You heard someone shout ahead. It was Tonowari. You looked around and pointed at yourself, and he narrowed his eyes.

Last night you remember him cleaning you up with water and a rag and kissing your forehead before he departed. It was a nice gesture, but you had no idea what that meant for the two of you.

Approaching him, he took your hand in his and began walking forward, making a few of the Metkayina members gasp. “I wanted to speak to you.”

“After last night?”

“Especially after last night.”

A pit of anxiety filled in your stomach and you began to stiffen. The two of you continued walking, until you got to a less crowded area of the reef. “I wanted to give you this.” He stopped and pulled out a necklace. You gasped at the aquamarine colored beads, one used for professing love to another. “I should've given you this a long time ago. A long time ago.”

You hesitantly grabbed the beads and looked up at him confused.

“I hope you didn't think last night was just a get back at Ronal. Or that it was a one night thing.” He stepped forward and grabbed your elbow. “I've been in love with you since highschool. I thought it was a stupid crush but…..” He sighed, starting to now stumble over his words. 

“Everyone else might see Ronal, but I see you.”

Your breath hitched. Tonowari, the bravest, handsomest, warrior, to be Olo’eyktan saw you?!

“I know last night was a horrible way of introducing you to the idea.”

“Idea of what?”

“Of being my Tsahik.”

You gasped again, knowing that it was a title that Ronal was expecting. Everyone always said she was the most qualified, so not only did you take her crush, you're taking her future.

“We've made the bond…in an idiotic way, but I wouldn't go back and change a thing.” He confessed.

You smiled softly, and placed the beaded necklace around your neck. Tonowari let out a breath of relief, happy that his love was being reciprocated. “I know that we are still so young, and you can change your mind about me whenever, but for now let me enjoy you, and love you unconditionally.”

You stood on your toes to kiss him deeply, sighing in pure ecstasy as he cupped your face and kissed back.

Just as the two of you finished, an entourage of people came walking straight for you with Ronal leading the group.

“Tonowari.” She nodded sweetly.

“Y/n.” She said blankly.

“What happened? Is there danger?” Tonowari said, a little concerned about the amount of people that stood around.

“No just….a little question. I heard something from a birdie and I hoped it wasn't true. Just wanted to check in.”

“What was said?” He asked unphased.

Ronal coyly rolled her eyes and played the shy act. “That you were planning to choose your future Tsahik soon.” She glared at you, thinking she had the upper hand.

Tonowari caught on. Ronal wanted him to claim her in front of everyone, but little did she know.

“I already did.” He smiled.

Ronal walked forward and shot you a look as she pushed herself between the two of you. “Oh Wari.”

Tonowari scoffed. “We actually made the bond last night. I didn't wanna waste any time.”

Ronal’s face dropped and she backed away, “B-bond?! But I didn't-”

Tonowari looked towards you and Ronal realized, “No.” She said in disbelief. “You're still so young- You don't even know what you want in a woman! No Olo’eyktan should choose on a whim!” She stammered trying to discredit your experience.

“We were all practically raised together. I know who and what I want.” Tonowari declared.

Ronal looked at you with an angry look. 

Normally her glare would make you cower and scramble to apologize, but this time you felt your lips curling up. Smiling at the bitch who no longer had the upper hand.

#persefolliwrites #persefolli #wattpad #avatar the way of water #angst #atwow #tonowari #avatar #avatar2 #tonowari x reader #tonowari smut #tonowari x you #tonowari angst

[sunderwight]

Bingqiu AU where SY and LBH grow up as childhood friends (idk maybe they're both at QJP but Shen Jiu is less of an asshole, or maybe SY transmigrates into Random Village Bully Child No.3 when Binghe's mom is still alive -- or both) and there's none of the tension of the idea of "one day Luo Binghe is going to rip my limbs off" for Shen Yuan.

So he and LBH can just be bros! Fantastic! Shen Yuan has never had a little brother before but he's had a little sister, he knows how to do this. Just spoil the cute kid rotten!

It's only fair compensation for how many terrible things LBH is gonna have to endure on the road to ruling the world, after all. SY also feels more freedom to change minor aspects of the plot around, too, like maybe he'll stop Liu Qingge from dying, definitely he can help LBH get a better start to his cultivation journey, and maybe the abyss and xin mo thing doesn't really need to happen...?

The list of things SY considers meddling with ends up including wives.

Like really, come on now, Luo Binghe may be a stallion protagonist but there's no need for that many women. Especially when at least half of them are just increasingly cheap copies of the other half, and that's being generous about it. Some of PIDW Binghe's wives were, frankly, horrible people. And if he's being honest about it, it wasn't fair of Binghe himself to take on that many either. Even if anyone would naturally give their left arm to be the protagonist's wife, after a certain point Binghe just can't spend that much time actually with them! And then he can't form the kinds of deep and meaningful bonds which might actually help heal his trauma!

SY's not looking to interfere too much, of course. Ning Yingying is not his favorite wife, but she's fine. She causes trouble but it isn't on purpose, and she's genuinely sweet and willing to befriend Binghe before he's anything special (although even now, it's obvious Binghe is special). Ning Yingying can stay.

And of course, so can Best Wife Liu Mingyan.

But Sha Hualing? Well, she offers some political advantages, and as the demon wives go she's not the worst. She's kind of iconic and was very popular, but Shen Yuan thinks the harem could do without her scheming and malicious attitude towards the other wives. The cost of harmony was too high for the political bonuses offered, especially when Binghe might as well just take her ancestral lands by force and be done with it. He's going to advise against that match.

And the Qin sisters. Sure there's the legendary threesome, but Wanrong's dead weight and it never struck SY quite right how Qin Wanyue pressured Luo Binghe into sex. The threesome wasn't even good anyway.

Better Qin Wanyue than the Little Palace Mistress on that front, though. But aish, that's complicated, the Palace Mistress is even more politically vital to securing HHP than Sha Hualing is for her father's kingdom, and almost as bad for the peace and harmony of the harem. Ultimately SY will leave it up to Binghe, but if Binghe asks, he's going to advise against the Huan Hua wives too.

With thoughts like this in mind, SY starts talking to Binghe about how to establish a household, what to look for in a spouse (or twenty), and other topics of that nature. What sort of household Luo Binghe ought to strive to have, and what sorts of standards he should himself to. Also while of course assuring him that Shen Yuan isn't interested in women. Lest he worry that Shen Yuan might be trying to steal any of the wives from him, at any point. He's not competition!

SY: I am helping to pave the way for Binghe to have better marital relationships! I am the best big brother slash best buddy ever! don't worry, no matter what happens to Binghe, this gege will be your no.1 cheerleader forever!

LBH: is he saying I should get a palace if I want to marry him? well... that sounds reasonable. ok, I will do it! (•̀ ω •́)✧

#svsss #bingqiu #scum villain's self saving system #scum villain

[pwinkprincess]

gojo and fucking his babygirl till she cant walk since she keeps stomping off when she has an attitude

satoru has noticed that you’ve changed. while you’re still his sweet girl, your attitude has gotten worse and worse. it really only comes out when he says something that you hadn't anticipated on hearing. 

after a long exhausting day of being the school’s golden boy and being recorded and having to talk rehearsed lines (‘perks’ of the gojo family funding a sufficient amount towards the school) it was all over. much to his luck, the frat house was completely void when he finally came home一well almost. you were sitting on the L shaped couch, waiting for him like an obedient puppy. he does little to hide his smile when he sees you jump to your feet once you realize he’s home. 

“hi, toru!” you’re smiling so hard and your arms are wrapping around him before he has the chance to fully respond.

“hey, babygirl.” he allows her to hug him. he pats the top of her while basking in how comforting the interaction feels. “how’d you get here?” he asks. he remembers vividly dropping you off at your section of your dorm two nights ago.

“suguru dropped me off.” the smile quickly washes off of his face. a displeased scowl substitutes the once there smile. 

“i thought i told you to stay away from him?” not only did he tell you to stay away from suguru, but sukuna, choso, and mahito too. it’s not like he didn’t trust you, it’s them who he didn’t trust. innocent, naive, good girls; you’re their type. they would possibly do you even worse than how satoru treats you, and he knows that. that’s why he strives so hard to keep you separated from his friend group.

“he came up t’me, toru.” you explain. “‘nd i told him that i wanted t’see you ‘nd he told me that you were busy but he could drop me off here ‘nd i wait in your room until you came back.” 

even though your explanation seems logical and realistic, he still didn’t want the two of you to interact. no matter the circumstances. he lets out a frustrated groan. he’s too tired to lecture you. he’ll talk your words with a  grain of salt this time. 

“c’mon, baby. ‘m tired.” even with the two of you traveling a short distance upstairs and into his room, you still hold his hand. he doesn’t fight you on it, opting to allow you to do whatever keeps you satisfied.

you sit happily on the edge of the bed while satoru begins stripping out of his clothes. you’re shameless as you take peaks of his body, when did his little shy girl grow so confident?

“uhmm toru, while we were in the car suguru told me about the party that’s happening this saturday.” you comment. your words are hesitant as you bring up the new topic.

“yeah, ryomen is throwin’ it this time.” he nods his head mindlessly. he’s pulling out clothes through his drawers, searching for his plaid pajama pants that isn’t folded and tucked in it’s usual spot.

“he invited me to go.” you squeak out.

satoru chuckles at your admission. “‘m gonna be busy this weekend, so..” he trails off.

“who’s gonna take me to the party then?” you ask in worry.

“no one. ‘cus you’re not going.” satoru pauses his rummaging to look at you. the expression on your face is almost comical. a mixture of shock and confusion is displayed.

“uh-huh, toru. i already told him i’d come.” you say in retaliation.

satoru makes a mental note to address suguru inviting you places without his agreement. usually, satoru usually doesn’t care when suguru offers to the girls he sleeps with, but you’re different.

"you're not going."

“...yes i am.” 

“no you’re not.” satoru replies, sarcasm is etched into his tone and he’s looking at you as if you have three heads.

“why not?!” your voice is rising and you jump up from your spot on his bed. you look up at him with a frown as you question him.

“cause ‘m not gonna be there.” he says it as though it were the clearest thing in the world.

“why does that matter, toru? i can handle goin’ alone.” you’re now defensive and upset. satoru can tell from your tone that you’re about to throw a tantrum and can only sigh as he prepares for the inevitable. 

“‘m not allowin’ you to go to a party thrown by sukuna alone.” he contradicts. 

“toruuuu.” you whine. “you’re being unfair!”

“am i?” he laughs.

you huff and whine some more. satoru ignores your whines, continuing to scavenge for his pants. the pile of clothes on the floor is growing increasingly larger and his drawers are growing bare.

“where the fuck is it?” he says aloud. if eyebrows are furrowed in confusion. 

you stop whining once you realize he’s ignoring you. frustration grows throughout your body as you look up at him with a scowl. you had grown used to satoru caving in quickly and to see him withstanding your antics absolutely enraged you.

“you’re so一stupid! i hate you!” you scream. you stomp towards the closed bedroom door while continuing to utter insults at him. 

there goes the new attitude, the loud yelling, the stomping, the insults. you’ve only done it twice before and satoru has had to put you in your place both times, this time is no different.

before you could even twist the knob, you feel a strong hand grasp the back of your neck. a sharp breath manages to escape your throat when you’re suddenly yanked backwards. it feels like your world is spinning when your back suddenly hits the mattress. 

satoru is quick to climb on top of you, his legs slot on either side of your body. 

there are angry tears pouring from your fierce eyes that soften up once you see the stern expression on his face. 

“t-to-”

“shut up.” he’s pulling your dress up to your stomach and shuffling to move to the side of you. he forces your legs open, his crystal blue eyes take notice of the way your panties hug your pussy. he could see a small wet spot seeping through your panties. he roughly yanks your panties down to your  ankles.

“t-toruuu..” you mewl. you know whats about to happen next and you try to brace yourself. 

the wind is almost knocked out of your chest when you feel his rough palm slap down onto your pussy. you flinch and kick your legs out of reflex. you squirm to move away from him which only makes him use his other hand to grab you by your throat. 

“fuckin’. rude. girl.” with every word, he’s slapping your pussy. loud screams escape out of your mouth, you try to shut your legs so that he couldn’t have any more access, satoru huffs out a breath and forcefully opens your legs back up. 

“stop.” his voice is deepened and the solidity is hard to disobey.

you could do nothing but lay there and take the slappings. every time his hand would strike down onto your pussy you would flinch and let out a weak moan. 

“of course you’d start moanin’.” he tuts. he moves from his position and stands at the edge of the bed. he grips your panties that are hanging loosely around your ankles and throws them elsewhere on the bed. he grabs you by your thighs and scoots you until your ass is hanging off the edge.

“i was jus mad, daddy, i didn’t mean anything i said.” you sniffle as you watch his cockhead rub against the entrance of your throbbing pussy.

“jus’ mad, huh?” he mumbles. he rubs his through your wetness for a few moments before sliding inside of you. on a regular day, he would’ve prepped you and made sure you were prepared enough for him to sink his lengthy cock into you. but its hard to be kind to you when you act like such a fucking brat.

“mhmm, d-daddy. was jus’ mad.” there are still tears lingering in your eyes that satoru ignores. “i don’t hate you, daddy.” you add on.

“‘s too late to apologize, babygirl. you know what happens when you act up like that.” 

you bite down on your lip while looking at him with a look of confliction. “‘m sorry.” you whimper. “are you一really mad at me or just a little?” 

“absolutely pissed, babygirl.” he says before snaking his hand back to your neck. he slams your head down onto the mattress and squeezes. 

his hips snaps into you, your wetness is already getting all over his cock and heavy balls <3. from his slapping, you feel sensitive, way more than usual. loud struggling mewls escape from your mouth as his hips speed up.

he keeps his hand around your neck but stops squeezing once his other hand goes to cover both your mouth and nose. “you’ve said enough today, babydoll. shut. the. fuck. up.” with every word, he grinds his cock deeper into your pussy. 

“rude little girl. gonna show you what happens t’girls who piss their daddy off.” he promises.

#asks ! ˚ ༘ ೀ #fratboy/playboy!gojo #pwinkprincess ૮꒰ ˶• ༝ •˶꒱ა #₊˚ʚ ᗢ₊˚✧ ﾟ #toruuu ᡣ𐭩୨୧ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ #jjk ! ૮꒰⸝⸝> ̫ <⸝⸝꒱ა #˗ˏˋ ꒰ ♡ ꒱ ˎˊ˗ #he wouldnt be mi toru if he wasnt bein too rough in some way #yes he does periodically remove his hands #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #gojou satoru x reader #jjk gojo #gojo x reader #gojo satoru #satoru x reader #satoru smut #gojo smut #gojo x y/n #satoru x y/n

[bloodbenderz]

there was a lot of mistakes made in the live action but the worst one without reservation was that the creators did not understand patriarchy and they did not understand women's liberation outside of an american context ( or any context if we're being honest )

it's easy to see on a surface level how that fucked up katara's whole character how she wasn't allowed to have her character defining moments how she wasn't allowed to be angry or even excited or impulsive but i think it doesn't really become clear how deeply wrong the show's conception of gender & patriarchy is (and the implications for the political landscape of the show) until you get into how they destroyed sokka's character too

sokka's whole Complex is born of patriarchy. i'm not trying to do men's rights advocacy here but in my experience when a people is under constant threat, constant assault, constant violence (much of which is gendered) and the traditional "protectors" or "providers" of that people are men, the masculine role becomes protecting women and children. i am not saying this is a good thing or a bad thing but it is true the narrative of violent resistance is overwhelmingly about men. to be a man in a time & place like this means fighting to protect your women, & to die for them is honorable. that is where sokka gets this idea that he has to be a warrior & he has to fight & if necessary die for katara & the rest of the tribe. it's about duty. everyone has a part to play, a role to fill

everyone including women! which is the other half of this. the duty of women is to keep up the home, to maintain a country worth fighting & dying for, to raise children so that the community can have a future. it becomes especially obvious in the context of the show when you see how the nwt lives & in specific how yue lives and dies.

many women participate in patriarchy. many colonized women participate in patriarchy. most of my family comes from or still lives in a country completely devastated by colonialism & its aftereffects & many women in my family believe wholeheartedly in the idea that everyone in the house has a role to play. it's not because these women are stupid or they hate themselves. but when you grow up believing that men & women are fundamentally different, and seeing that women are in specific danger because of their gender, it actually makes a lot of sense to expect the men in your family to protect you, and to raise your sons that way.

in practice that means that men aren't really expected to do anything around the house, especially when there's no actual danger. my aunt literally 2 days ago told me this lol like she doesn't make her sons do anything bc she wants to let their lives be easy before they have to go out into the world & take care of their wives & children.

what does women's liberation look like when an entire community is under threat? colonized women have been dealing with this question as long as colonialism has existed. the writers of this show don't even pretend to understand the question, much less to formulate a thoughtful response to it. they just say oh, well, katara, yue, & suki are all the exact same type of liberated girlboss for whom patriarchy is no significant obstacle.

which brings us back to sokka lol. sokka, at the beginning of the show, has completely subscribed to patriarchy, has integrated it into his sense of self. he has a lot of flaws, but he also has a lot of really good traits. his bravery, sense of honor, loyalty, work ethic, selflessness, all of this came from him striving to be a good man. he would die to protect katara, because she's his sister. he also has her wash his socks & mend his clothes, because she's his sister. even after he meets suki, humbles himself, & expands his view of the role a woman can play, he doesn't completely disengage from patriarchy. at the end of the day he believes in his soul that a good man's duty is to fight & if necessary die for his people, & that's exactly his plan. this is a very real psychic burden. pre-aang, it's also largely fictional & completely ridiculous. we're SUPPOSED to think it's ridiculous. he's spending his time training babies & working on his little watchtower. the swt hasn't been attacked since their mother was killed because it has been completely stripped of all value or danger it once held for the fire nation, & everybody knows this. there is very little "men's work" left, aside from hunting & fishing, which is so damaging to sokka's self image he resorts to toddler bootcamp to feel useful. the contradiction here is comical. it's also completely devastating. that's supposed to be the fucking POINTTTT like colonialism & patriarchy convinces this young boy he needs to be a soldier & die for his family. & you know what he does? He acts like a young boy about it. they didn't just leave this unexplored in the remake they completely changed the circumstances to 1. make sokka incompetent for some reason 2. make his "preparations" seem less ridiculous. Which ruins the whole character. Possibly the whole show.

all this makes the writing of katara & the other women infinitely more offensive to me. katara is a good character because she believes in revolution. she wants to liberate her people from imperialism, & she wants to liberate women from colonial gendered violence, traditional patriarchy in her own culture, & the complicated ways those things interact. it is LITERALLY the first thing you're supposed to learn about her. she's the PERFECT vehicle to address the question of women's liberation under colonialism. one of the things i was most looking forward to seeing in this show was how labor is distributed in a place where almost everything that needs to get done is "women's work" & how it affects katara & sokka's day to day relationship when their lives weren't at risk constantly. what actually are her responsibilities every day, & how do they compare to sokka's? how does her grandmother enforce these traditions with katara & sokka, & how is that informed by her own experiences in the nwt? what does patriarchy look like in a tribe made up of mostly women & children? it's so important to who katara is & what she believes! but why bother exploring any of that when u could instead make her a shein model who has nothing in common with the source material except her hairstyle lol.

yue is actually even worse to me bc yue is supposed to be sokka's counterpart. she's supposed to show you how destructive it is for women specifically to internalize this gendered duty so completely. it sucks for sokka, but he is a man & thus his prescribed role gives him some agency. yue's role affords her no agency whatsoever, & this is the POINT. to make her someone who's allowed to break things off with her fiance if she likes, who sneaks off to do what she wants when she's feeling stressed, whose will is respected as a monarch, like what is even the point of yue anymore? in the original the whole reason she was even allowed to spend time with sokka was because her father knew she was with a trustworthy boy. her story completely loses all significance when the dimension of patriarchy is removed from it. the crux of her whole story is that she is not just a princess but the literal & spiritual representation of the motherland. that's what women are supposed to represent during wartime, at the cost of their own sense of self. in order to fulfill her duty to her people she gives her life to them in every single way that matters.

it's just so unbelievably frustrating (and WRONG) that the only types of characters for these writers are "soulless misogynistic fuck" and "liberated american-style feminist." there's no nuance at all! they don't bother exploring how real love manifests in patriarchal communities, & how patriarchy defines the limits of that love. or how for so many of these people their idea of goodness, morality, & honor is gendered. or how imperialism affects not just individuals but entire cultures & their conceptions of gender. but why do any actual work when you could completely change sokka & katara's general demeanors, their entire personalities, & their roles in the tribe so you can dodge any & all nuance

Anyways. in conclusion. it was bad

[aseaofyoongi]

my heart did | jjk

jeon jungkook x reader (f)

genre: e2l | bully romance | smut | angst

rating: mature audiences only (strictly 18+)

summary: as soon as senior years comes to an end a lot of teens shed who we were and strive to be flourish into a more polished version of themselves. although, broken hearts aren’t so quick to heal what happens when thoughts reveal all we need to know?

warnings: lets begin.. themes and mentions of bullying; brief physical violence; brief mention of blood; bickering; denial of feelings; mention of less than ideal parents; cliche high school themes (in flashbacks); foul language; oral (m. receiving); penetrative and unprotected sex; clitoral stimulation; nipple play; thigh riding; vag fingering; overstimulation; sub!jjk themes - he is a good boy; he uh.. arrives on her face.. anyways; i hate this trope ugh but miscommunication; jjk has a big d!; not edited.

word count: 25,5 thousand words

posted: wed sept. 6, 2023 at 12:28PM

notable songs: like i want you - giveon | thinkin bout you - frank ocean | like or like like - miniature tiger | war of hearts - ruelle | sunday morning - maroon5 🎧

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The sun is now setting. 

Behind you as the last hours of the late summer evening approached the sun was beginning to finally pucker its lips against the horizon, as a result, the sky became dusted with hints of deep orange, yellow and purple. The clock finally struck nine o’clock and you couldn’t help but slump down on the palms of your hands, sitting behind the main desk on the same stool you had been since the beginning of your shift. Your pupils followed as the little hands on the clock hung on the opposite wall seemed to move slower and slower, completely freezing you in time. 

Fucking Mondays. 

You sighed. When you had initially signed up for the work study position at the library you thought things would be just a bit different. 

For example, you thought being a staff member here would get you free access to course books and materials but that wasn’t the case. Right before you’d been hired, some idiot named Yoongi who worked behind the help desk at the computer lab was caught selling copies of the course materials to multiple students on campus. 

Like—right before you were hired and now that privilege had been swiped right off the tip of your fingers the moment your member badge had been printed. 

Secondly, time behind that rotating door at the main entrance just stopped. No, more like slammed down on the brakes abruptly the moment you crossed that threshold. There were no warnings or brake lights or even a bright sign to apprise in advance. 

Another drawn out sigh escaped your lips. 

There was no exaggeration in your boredom, however, besides the ‘promises’ of saving money on school materials vanishing entirely, you still needed the monetary earnings so you hid behind a fabricated smile and immediately accepted the job offer happily. 

Well, as happily as you could be. 

God, you were jaded. Five after nine. Only five minutes had gone by yet it felt like an eternity. 

Your mind was on overdrive yet your body remained stationed in the same exact place—in the same exact position. Not a single tendon transposed and they constricted your muscles in place. You were there sort of glued to the metal surface of the stool but fuck did you wanted to move. 

Needed to actually. You needed a sort of mobile stimulation but still you couldn’t seem to get your arms and legs to comply. Not until your focus circled around your extremities and your need to just fucking. . do something. 

You crossed your legs to the left, then to the right, then you hung your legs on the wooden bar under the desk to give them a rest from just hanging on your side, then you sat with your legs spread open before realizing you wore a skirt and you quickly pressed your thighs together tightly. Shift after shift you grew more angsty, more impatient, more exasperated with the sluggish speed the hours of the night adopted. 

Slowly, you reached into your bag and unwrapped a piece of gum before sticking it in your mouth. You chewed slowly. Seven after nine, only two minutes have gone by since you last looked at the time. 

Okay, maybe if you number your chews to the rhythm of each second then time will somehow speed by. Right? You began your countdown backwards from sixty. 

You chewed down on the watermelon flavored stick of gum. Sixty. 

Again, fifty-nine. 

And, again,  fifty-eight. 

Once more, fifty-seven. 

In just a matter of minutes the sky behind you turned pitch black and finally the stars came out to play, they pranced around dancing in the sparkling delight and you couldn’t really help but envy their freedom as they lived without confinement. 

“Tell me something. .” You quickly registered that irritating tone, that very familiar and insipid, absolutely annoying and vexing tone. The same one which sent a bubbling shot of acid to course into your bloodstream every time you were faced with the disdain of hearing it, “should I reprint you a copy of the employee manual? Last time I checked skirts above the knee and gum chewing are strictly prohibited in the work place.” 

You leaned your head to the side, narrowing your eyes in his direction as he stood by the doorframe, “you’re not the supervisor, let alone the manager,” you murmured through gritted teeth, “fuck off.” 

He shook his head slowly while clicking his tongue. He was mocking you, the little shit was mocking you, “Not a manager. Just someone who likes to enforce the rules especially comes to you.” 

“Rule enforcer?” you scoffed, chewing louder and louder as you chomped down, purposefully smacking your gum in the process, “sounds a lot like you being a little bitch. I guess it’s all just the same to me.” 

“Bitch?” he guffawed. 

“Yes, that’s what I said,” you challenged. 

“Mini skirt, gum chewing, and foul language. You’re really making this so easy for me,” he mocked. 

The extent of your interactions were always, always, reduced to this. Just the endless streaks of taunting, the continuity of poking at each other buttons beyond forgiveness, and to top it all of the boiling irritation cooking up in the pit of your stomach. 

As far back as you could remember there wasn’t an ounce of amiability in the mixture of your interactions together. 

You and him met the summer before the ninth grade. From there on you knew him once classes began. Well ‘knew’ was a very loose term in this situation. The two of you were just teens, fifteen years old to be exact, in the same school, in the same home room, yet from different cliques. 

His brown eyes drank you in like he was consuming every inch of your soul—it was invasive, intimidating, and exactly what you deserved. Deep down you were one hundred-percent sure of the fact. 

“What?” you barked. 

“Just remembering the good old time,” he smirked, “the ones where words remain your preferred and deadliest weapon.” 

What transpired from that night was nothing compared to his cold gaze and punctured words. 

Faint lights of that night sparkled into memory, years have passed but you remember every detail as if it was just yesterday. 

The school bathroom was your least favorite place in the building, it was usually crowded with destined criminals, the stench was horrid and it was the obvious root of every ridiculous rumor to ever be birthed within the walls of Oakwood High School. 

You leaned against the white ceramic sink, your back faced the stained plastic mirror as you faced him sitting on top of the toilet tank. He was the personification of trouble, the very synonym of everything you needed to stay away from. 

The two of you came from two different worlds. 

He was draped and wrapped up in a black hoodie, complemented by dark distressed jeans while his rugged and muddy boots stained found camp on the toilet seat, staining it beyond repair. 

“What exactly is it that you need from me?” he asked, his tone wasn’t as stern or deep as you usually heard around the halls. There was a slight stutter; a falter. 

“It’s more than one thing,” you exhaled, your eyes flickered between him and the stall just to the right of him, “. .that I need from you.” 

He hummed, “go on.” 

The sun trickled in through the foggy windows and it embellished very detail, every feature that you had never once before noticed on the boy before you. His eyes were giant orbs almost doe like, his lips were a deep taint of roseate the same one which dusted the apples of his cheeks. There was a certain delicate look behind the dark aura he cemented within himself. 

You took paced steps in his direction feeling just a bit dizzy the closer you became. 

Perhaps, it was that overbearing piss smell. 

Or, perhaps, you just didn’t want to go through with this. You wanted to call this off but there was this fervent exhilaration burning just below your skin—you wanted to continue speaking to him, you wanted to envelop yourself in the softness of his lips. 

But this wasn’t right but you couldn’t help the guidance of your feet, until finally you stood right before him. 

Up close his eyes were prettier, shinier yet darker and you easily found yourself swimming in them engulfed in vastness simulating the bottomless sea. 

He was everything you wanted and everything you needed to stay away from. 

Two different people. Two different worlds. 

“Are you going to tell me what you need?” 

“I think,” your palm landed on his knee for support as you climbed onto the toilet seat taking a seat on his lap, “it’s much better if I show you.” 

By now, and by the radicle of his reputation you expected for him to push you right off his life, for him to gargle the disgust in the back of his throat and regurgitate it right back on you. But he didn’t instead his gaze intently followed you every move, he probably already noticed your quivering figure hiding behind your confident facade. 

There was no shaking off this nervousness, even but in your mind you reminded yourself that you were you and he was simply him. 

“Show me what exactly?” he swallowed, his Adam's bobbed distinctively, “you know this is the first time you’ve ever uttered a single word in my direction.” 

“I highly doubt that,” you hid your nervousness behind the security of your confident tone. 

“It’s true,” he continued, “I bet you have never even noticed that my locker is directly across from yours.” 

“Wait. .” You hooked your bait, hanging it low over his head attempting to reel him in once and for all, “do you spend your time in the halls looking at me?” 

“I never said—“ 

Your palms found their way up to towards the back of his neck and you inched closer to his face vividly detailing the golden tone of his glowing skin. 

You never noticed before, he was always an arm’s length away, which was probably your fault to begin with, but he was truly beautiful. 

“You did kind of imply it.” 

“I don’t think it works that way.” 

“Does to me.” 

His eyes remained on your lips as you tucked your lower lip under your upper teeth.  There was an unreadable expression ignited behind his pupils, something you’ve never seen before, not behind the frigid gaze of your best friends and it certainly wasn’t present in the way your boyfriend looked at you either. 

It held the comfort of tenderness and it wrapped you right into his warm embrace. 

“You know, you keep averting my question.” 

“Remind me, once again,” you smiled softly, “what is it that you wanted to know.” 

“What do you want to show me?” you pursed out your lower lip before licking them agonizingly slowly to almost emphasize their plumpness. While coating them in a thin layer  of the sheen shininess from your saliva. That put him in a trance, his eyes were locked on you intently. It’s working. 

“Kiss me,” you whispered, your lips hovered right over his, the waft of your paced breath fanned one another. His mouth was enveloped with the cool aromatic scent of mint. You liked that a lot—it drew you in. 

He froze against the white tiled wall behind him, his eyes were closed and he waited in anticipation of your lips finally meeting his. Instead, you took the liberty of snapping a mental picture. One you knew you would hang in the forefront of your mind for a very very long time, because after today, after the tones of both of your pink lips finally meshed together everything would go to shit. 

And it would all be your fault. 

“For someone who’s begging to kiss me you sure are taking your sweet time.” 

The pads of your fingers brushed against his velvet lips as they spread wide depicting his smile, in turn you’d notice the way that very smile trickled to everyone of his features. From the dimples impaling his honey cheeks to his scrunched up nose and brows scrunched up together. 

“I’m not begging,” you objected, laying against his chest—he was broad you could tell even under the dark clothes and he felt firm. All you wanted was to be cocooned in his heated touch. 

Even in the scorching summer his warmth is.. a solace. You didn’t mind being consumed by it burning in the flames ignited by his touch. 

“I asked. Just curious to know if you would even want to kiss me,” say no, run away, run away from me, you yelled at him in your head. 

“Curious?” 

You hummed, “So.. Do you wanna?” 

“Kiss you?” 

You hummed again, “I’m not asking for your hand in marriage. It’s just one kiss.” 

“Just a kiss?” He asks a lot of questions. 

“Okay,” he breathed. 

There were many things you forbid yourself from submitting to at the expense of your insatious desires. This included consuming sweets past eight o’clock, drinking any type of soda, and even suppressing anything you’ve ever felt for anyone in return for the validation of others. Deep behind the rhythmic beating of your heart you knew this should’ve also included kissing him. You knew you should’ve backed off, said no, avoided him as if he was something you ran away from. 

But you couldn’t help but be guided here by the pure delight of getting to have this for once. You wanted to be selfish and drown in those very desires you didn’t dare act on prior to today. Not under self-induced circumstances instead something you know could hurt him right after you pulled away from his lips. 

You were a wretched person but all you think about, all you cared about was the way he inched closer towards you, rapidly closing the gap between the two of you. The only sounds bouncing off the walls were your needy pants and the thump thump which composed a song out of the beats of both of your racing hearts. 

His head tilted slightly as he leaned in, his eyes explored every inch of your face taking in every depiction of your features. And no matter how many times you could attempt to hide it—he would know. He could clearly see the birth of the flames rampant behind the tones of your eyes. 

He nudged his nose against yours, and your mouths fell together, soft and open. You closed your eyes instantly and they felt heavy, almost as if your eyelids were glued together. Though, you urged to open them, to live in every single second your lips remained connected with his, because you knew this wasn’t likely to happen again. Not after today. Not ever. 

You couldn’t help but want to bear witness to the perfectness of your lips dancing against one another. 

His mouth was silken, you found yourself melting into his body, into his lips, into his touch. Nobody had ever kissed you with the unspoken one passion he was. 

No one. Certainly not your boyfriend. 

You allowed yourself to become drunk under his trance and he fed the butterflies flapping their wings against the lining of your stomach rapidly. 

You wanted to camp in the fondness of that moment forever, and ever. and ever. . . 

Vacating the stool you stood by the large windows facing the parking lot behind the library. However, your attention was clutched by the sparkling stars, it was a form of a distraction. You wanted to stop thinking of him, his gaze seizing your figure tracing the outline of your legs, the curves and dips between your hips and waist and finally the sneaky peaks of your collar bones under your crop top. 

His eyes were hard to read making it impossible to decipher whether he undressed you or condemned your being.  

Though, you knew you deserved the latter. 

“Words were never my weapon,” you whispered the fib hoping that you would believe it if you heard it outloud. It didn’t work. 

He chuckled, “right. . your lips were the blades that pierced my heart and your words were the bullets that finished me off.”

“Jungkook. .” you trailed off. 

“What?” he spat, “can’t handle the truth?” 

Fuck, that hurt but you deserved it.  

“Jungkook, just shut up.” 

But his back was already turned towards you and his eyes no longer scanned you like you were the phrases typed on the pages of his favorite book. 

“I’m so. .” you began but you just couldn’t get it out. 

“There it is again,” Jungkook shook his head, clicking his tongue. 

“That’s not what I meant,” you sighed, collecting your thoughts why did you always manage to say the wrong fucking thing, “I’m just trying to apologize to you for. . everything.” 

“Right. . now?” he wore a puzzled expression, his eyes squinted with skepticism. Back in highschool Jungkok was quiet, shy and mysterious. He could’ve easily flown under the radar and lived his life in the seclusion of being a wallflower. But then you happened. You in that bathroom, on his lap with his lips on yours. 

Even now, years later, you could still feel their phantom softness on yours. 

You played with the loose thread on the hem of your top averting the scrutiny of the judgment in his eyes, “better late than never.” 

“You put me through hell and I’m supposed to act as if all is forgiven. Today, because you can no longer live with that guilt?” there was a smirk plastered on his face while traces of venom laced his words. 

“That’s not the reason why…” 

“Then, why… Why?” 

Words failed to roll off the tip of your tongue, and there was a cloud of shame hanging over your head but Jungkook was resentful and cold with his words and you knew that at this point your apology would do nothing to fix what was already broken. Nevertheless, you stood there like a child being scolded because the least you could do was be the receiver of his resentment. 

“Are you looking for a shot at self redemption? To feel better about yourself? Or maybe the guilt really is eating you bit by bit. Whatever it may be I don’t forgive you and I never will. You wanna know why? Because unlike others I’m not convinced that people like you can change,” he continued, there was a rampant anger burning in his eyes now, “you look back on our time in high school and feel this sense of. . relief that you were who you were. There is not an ounce of your being that would go back and change things and if we were to turn back time you would still choose to be the viper who could go around injecting your venom into others at free will. I know you just want to leap over that stepping stone and prove to yourself that you have grown-up but you can’t fool me and you will not make an example out of me.” 

“That’s not. .” you drifted off, tears swelled behind your eyelids but you blinked them away, “That’s not why I wanted to do Jungkook. .” 

“No?” he asked. 

“No,” you muttered through gritted teeth, mad at your past self for being a piece of shit, mad at him for not allowing you to speak, mad at life. Everything. 

“You want me to forgive you?” 

You remained quiet. 

“Then, beg.” 

“You know what?” You quickly wiped the tear that trickled down your heated cheek, “I actually did mean to apologize but I’m not sure that you actually deserve it anymore.” 

They say what comes around goes around and you were certain this was the circle of justice you would forever be looped in the extent of your interactions with Jungkook because, this is pretty much how they always played out.  He would never forgive you and you would never be able to form the right words to ease the pain of what you have caused. There wasn’t anything that you could do or say. 

Things would always remain this way. 

He turned away from you once again, “if I don’t deserve your apology that only proves you don’t deserve my forgiveness.” 

You looked at the clock on the opposite wall, it was now finally thirty minutes past nine and you were due to go home. To be embraced by the comfort of your sheets, to bask in their warmth, something less chilling than his frigid words. 

Grabbing your bag you slipped past him hoping that you would now stoop to becoming nothing but an insipid wallflower. 

Entirely, invisible. That’s all you wanted to be. 

Fucking invisible. 

Your cloak of invisibility was short lived because as soon as you crossed the threshold to your dorm you were met with a crowded living room. Amongst the faceless features of the random strangers spread out in the tiny space you spotted a similar face belonging to the biggest pain in your ass and roommate adjacent, Hobi. 

You trudge through the ocean of bodies, resisting the sway of the waves leading to bump to those in your way, simply wanting to get as far away from whatever this was as soon as possible. When Hobi’s eyes finally met yours you signaled him towards using your pointer finger—quickly, his smile dropped, beads of sweat adorned his temples and his head hung low. 

A party on a Monday was… Definitely, Hobiesque. 

With paced strides he stumbled towards you following you down the small corridor and into your room. Hobi’s eyes hung low, the buttons on his shirt hung open all the way down to the pit of his stomach, his cheeks were red and puffy, his hair the right amount of disheveled, and he had a tight grasp on a nearly empty red solo cup (it definitely didn’t look like it was his first or last drink). The  lights were dimmed but even under the shitty lighting there was a bright glimmer outlining his figure. 

“Now, before we begin this intervention,” his words were a bit slurred, “I had a really shitty day.” 

“Yeah, that makes two of us,” you hung your bag on the hook behind the door and threw your keys on the desk. 

He slumped down on your bed and stared up at the ceiling with a blank expression—you weren’t sure if the shift in his usual energetic charisma was due to the alcohol but you didn’t like it. You were so used to seeing his heart shaped lips spread into wide curves showcasing the amiability of his colorful personality. 

“Okay, which one of us should go first?” he asked. 

“Don’t you have a party to get back to?” you sat by the pillows on the bed, your back leaning against the headboard, your legs pressed up against your chest as you laid your head on your knees. 

“I’ll get back in a minute,” he replied nonchalantly, “just tell me about your day.” 

Hobi laid his head closer to your legs, quickly you found your fingers combing through the dark strands with a thin layer of sweat. There was a cool draft slipping in the room through the window left slightly ajar. The bittersweet flashes of your time in that library behind the main desk played back in your mind. 

“I saw… spoke to Jungkook tonight,” your voice was soft, almost hoping he wouldn’t hear. You and Hobi have been friends since your senior year in school and while he wasn’t there for the horrid days of your freshman year tyranny you confessed to everything you had done during those dark days—everything that happened with Jungkook. 

“Spoke?” 

You nodded. 

“You two have the same work study you’ve spoken to each other before right?” 

“Yeah, but our conversations are always reduced to nonsensical banter. He pushes my buttons and I push his, sometimes we even land a few jabs at each other when the other isn’t looking but today,” you felt at ease sitting there in Hobi’s company, the only noise surrounding the two of you came from the booming of the loudspeaker stationed in the living room, “…it was personal.”

“How personal?” he continued peering up at you with idle eyes. 

“I tried to apologize for, well you know.. everything,” you sighed, “and things didn’t really go as planned. Stupid of me I know.” 

“Definitely, not stupid. You tried to make things right. There’s no harm in that,” his thumb rubbed your hand softly as it wrapped around your shins. 

“There was definitely a lot of harm done.” 

“You’re right,” he mumbled, “what you did is not justified, but all that matters is that you are trying to make things right and we can only hope he is willing to forgive.” 

Jungkook’s vicious words played on a continuous loop in your head. He was not willing to forgive. He never would be and sincerely you couldn’t blame him for him. 

This guilt. 

It will eat you alive and as a result you will experience a slow and excruciating death. A well deserved demise and one that became written in the stars for you the moment you kissed him in that fucking bathroom. 

Still, a timid smile slowly creeped on your lips. Hobi’s hopefulness is your safety net, the only thing you could ever need to keep pushing forward. 

“Enough about me and my self-inflicted issues,” you cleared your throat, “what’s got you so down today, sunshine?” 

“We broke up.” 

You laid beside him on your bed, reaching down taking his hands into yours hoping he’d feel the same deal of comfort you do by him. 

“What happened?” you offered. 

“I was in my dance practice and he—“ he paused, “he just fucking texted me. Said he couldn’t do it anymore.”  

“Did something happen before all of this?” 

“We’ve been on a bumpy road lately,” he hesitated before continuing—you guessed it was because he was trying to structure his thoughts, “two dancers dating bring a conflict of interest into a relationship.” 

“Please tell me you guys aren’t just fighting over your choreography.” 

He remained silent before continuing. 

“You two are going to send me into cardiac arrest,” you shook your head, “I need details, Jung.” 

“Don’t call me, Jung,” Hobi poked out his lower lip, frowning, “makes me feel like I’m in trouble.” 

“I can’t be mad at you when you’re so adorably tipsy,” you pinched his rosey cheeks.

“Stoooop,” he swatted your hand away from his face while stretching out the letter ‘O,’ “I’m being serious though. I think it’s really over between Jimin and I, forreal this time.”

“You’ve said that every other time the two of you have broken up over dance.” 

“Right. .” he yawned, cozying up under your sheets while his eyes began to close. 

“Oh, no,” you smacked him upside the head with one of your cushions, “get up and go host your little party.” 

He brushed it off turning before turning away from you, his soft snores now a remix to the music playing just outside of your door, “who the fuck throws a party on a Monday. . Hoseok, get up!” 

“I know, you’re so irresponsible for letting me throw a party on a weekday.” 

“Bitch.” 

As it turns out, kicking people an hour after a party had started wasn’t as easy as it looked. Leaning against the front door you finally came face to face with the mess left behind. The music still played, though, much lower now and there was an array of empty beer cans, red solo cups and other waste decorating your living room. 

It was as if you were standing in front of the mirror looking back at yourself, you were nothing but a mess of a human being. It was uncanny. 

Although, this mess you could clean, and you would, you weren’t sure if Jungkook would ever allow you to pick up all of those broken pieces that you had shattered all of those years ago. 

For what it’s worth you really wanted to try. You wanted to make things right. 

It is now Tuesday and the weather is horrid. 

The last time you checked, the forecast called for scattered showers and mostly cloudy days. But, now it’s one in the afternoon and as you settle down on the bench by your bay window overlooking the narrow street, the sky was overtaken by the torrent clouds weeping viciously accompanied by the occasional strikes of loud thunder. 

Usually, when the weather looked as shitty as you felt you opted for staying home and becoming enveloped in the comfort and warmth of your sheets, today would have been no different but of course luck is never present in the deck of cards paving your life, also having an irresponsible roommate usually doesn’t help in any way.

“Please, don’t forget my ginger ale,” he coughed dramatically, running his hand through his disheveled hair, “I can’t believe I feel like literal shit.”

“You can’t believe it?” You sneered, “you drank half of your alcohol supply before I even made it home and the party had only been on for like thirty minutes.”

“Fuck, I did that. Didn’t I?” 

“You did,” you playfully yanked your covers off his body, “you drunk fuck.” 

“That was my nickname in highschool,” he smiled. 

“It was,” you zipped up your rain jacket and grabbed the umbrella sitting on your desk, “now go take a hot bath and don’t throw any more parties while I’m gone.” 

You heard his infectious giggles as you closed the front door behind you. The two of you lived on the third floor so the walk down the stairs to the lobby wasn’t too unbearable. Through the clear doors of the main entrance in the rain you saw how the downpour fogged up the path ahead. Namseok’s Kitchen is only a five minute walk, you can do this. 

Walking out you opened your umbrella and stood still for just one minute paralized by the pitter patter of the droplets meeting your umbrella. 

It was the beat to a dreadful song you knew too well. 

You pushed past the blue metal doors of the gymnasium. Your nostrils are no longer consumed by the smell of sweat and dirty laundry and the muffled conjunction of laughter, voices, bouncing balls, and whistles died out the minute the door closed behind you. 

Gym class was a drag and there was truly nothing worse than an hour long class period with sweaty kids in such a tiny space. Usually, you opted for walking on the track for the duration of class but that option became futile the moment it began to pour an hour ago. 

In fact it was still raining, but you stood under the navy awning covering you from becoming soaked. Your eyes are closed and you lean against the red brick wall inhaling the scent of petrichor, the resulting smell of the parched earth just as the pouring rain continues to beat anything standing right below it. The sweet aromas seeped into the air sweeping past your nose with the soft breeze that blew by. 

It was as if the earth had exhaled, emanating its distinct fragrance from millions of pinpoints all at once. Inside that smell, the seconds slowed and each moment seemed to dilute. It filled you with relief.  

Then, suddenly the remnants of your heaven became blurred and the walls holding up the roofs began to tumble down and with it a whiff of nicotine became tangled in your nose. 

Your eyes shot open and there he was, Jungkook. The boy you’d kissed a week ago in the boy’s bathroom. 

“Cigarettes are bad for you, you know..” You felt a knot in the pit of your stomach as soon as he turned. You heard what happened to him but you hadn’t gotten around to seeing him yet, you’d been avoiding him. 

“Yeah, I keep thinking I’ll quit and I can’t seem to make it past a couple of hours,” he was honest and he smiled, two characteristics you thought had died the moment your boyfriend’s fist met his face. He still had a soft purple bruise under his eye to prove it. 

“You need something else to get your mind off of it.” 

He threw the butt of the cigarette on the ground and stepped on it to put it out and leaned right beside you on the wall. Up close you saw a deep gash on the apples of his cheek, it was still red but stitched up. 

“I know.” 

“Are you really littering right now?” You eyed the discarded smoke under the tip of his chunky combat boots.

“Right, sorry miss president of ‘i love earth’ or whatever,” he bent over, picking it up and placing it in the pocket of black jeans, similar to the ones he wore that day minus the rips around the thighs. 

“It’s actually called, ‘advocates for planet earth’ for your information.” 

“I love earth sounds better,” he shrugged, “should consider the name change.”

“I’ll bring it up in our next meeting.” 

“I’m surprised,” Jungkook began, his eyebrows furrowed together and you could tell he was in a mental battle to continue, “that he lets you join cute little nerdy clubs.” 

Twenty minutes before you entered the boys bathroom last Thursday, you and your friends sat in the library during study hall, your homework long forgotten and with continued complaints of loud talking all of you had settled for a game of quiet dare or die. 

The set-up was easy. 

There were two piles out in-front of you, one die, one dare. The object of the game created by your friends was to choose a dare and record yourself completing it before the end of the school day or else you’d have to do something even more embarrassing from the die pile. 

Your dare was to graffiti the side of the school. A bit excessive, compared to the other ones which only called for kissing each other, going against school dress code for the rest of the day or skipping the last period. 

Ditching the crumpled up paper you chose a die deciding that whatever it was at least it probably wouldn’t come at the expense of being expelled. 

‘Kiss Jeon Jungkook (loser)’ it read. 

You could’ve said no but you didn’t. Instead you fed into the taunts of the very boy you’d find your eyes lingering after. The same boy who occupied your thoughts day and night, the same one who kissed you like no one else has and whose touch (though, brief)—permanently marked a trail of goosebumps only he could procure. 

“He doesn’t control me, Jungkook.” 

“He doesn’t,” Jungkook nodded, registering every gravity of your words which felt heavy on his tongue. If your boyfriend didn’t control you then that meant you had also dealt a hand at the countinuously fucked-up encounters between him and your boyfriend. But this also finally cemented the idea that you had kissed him willingly; you saw it in the way his eyes sparkled even when the sun had been hibernating for the duration of the day. 

He seemed to have finally realized that both of those could be true. That love and pain could dance together hand in hand when it came to the two of you. 

Your eyes scanned his chocolate ones, slowly reaching up using the pads of your finger to caress his cheek. They were full and warm and you were careful not to inch too close to the purple and green-ish spot under his eye. 

“Will you believe me if I tell you something?”

“Tell me.” 

“I really did enjoy that day.” You clarified, “our kiss despite what I said afterwards.” 

He chuckled, “hopefully saying me too doesn’t get me another black eye.” 

The tightness in your chest squeezed tighter and immediately you felt like you couldn’t breathe. When Jungkook was around you felt as if your heart and mind collided against each other and you were left in a daze, castaway in your own body and mind. Like, right now, your brain urged you to walk away and get as far away as possible from him but your heart called out to him and down that same path it set out a route leading to his silken lips. 

Your heart beat to a deep crescendo nearly synching to the sound of the beating rain against the awning just overhead. 

“Shouldn’t you be getting back to class?” 

Snapping out of your daydream you replied, “uh, yeah, I should get back.” 

“Okay.” 

“I’ll see you around.” 

Jungkook smiled, “I’ll see you around.” 

The hefty winds blew your umbrella yet you remained in the same exact spot just a couple of feet away from the entrance to the dorm building. You were drenched from head to toe causing your gray sweats and hoodie to stick to you all while they weighed you down. Although you were inclined to move away from the droplets adorning your figure, your legs just would not submit to the command. 

The smell, the dark skies, and the feeling of the rain on your skin all ignited a sense of familiarity, contentment yet melancholiness. 

There were too many feelings jumbled into one. 

“If you stand here, like this, you’ll end up sick.”

You hadn’t realized your eyes were closed until the moment his voice overshadowed the roaring screams of the pouring rain. Jungkook’s outfit mimicked yours slightly but even you could admit he looked much better than you. He wore gray sweats and a gray hoodie draped off his shoulder over a white wife beater. His tattoos peeked through outlining the beginning of the sleeve following the length of his extremity down to his fingers. 

He’s breathtaking, he’s always been. 

“I wasn’t aware that my well-being was any of your concern.” 

Jungkook combed his slender digits through his jet black hair inching closer to you until his umbrella covered the both of you, “it doesn’t,” he said, “ I just figured you were either drunk or too much of an idiot to be out in this storm.” 

“Well, in that case that makes us two idiots standing out in this weather.” 

“I was not out. I’m not crazy,” he cleared his throat, “I just so happen to see you through my dorm window.” 

He came down for you, “yet here you are now.”

“Need I remind you, if I wasn’t, you’d still be out here getting soaked.” 

“Soaked,” you snickered.

“Grow up,” his voice was laced with annoyance but the rose tint on his cheeks told you everything you needed to know. 

“Where did my umbrella even go?” 

He pointed to your feet where your Converse swam in a puddle and there was your unbrella was looking as fucked up as ever. Immediately, you made a mental note to never buy umbrellas at the dollar store ever again. You supposed that’s the only thing you were good at; making one wrong decision after the other. 

You huffed, “ah, I’m okay. It’s okay, I got it from here.”

“Were you going somewhere?” 

“You don’t have to help me, Jungkook,” you didn’t dare look at him because Jungkook was good at one thing, it was peeling back at your layers with his piercing eyes. He made you feel vulnerable—bare. And you always feared the psychedelic enchantment wiring in your brain whenever he looked in your direction. 

Back then that was your excuse for not helping him, for not being a better human being. It was a shitty excuse, you know that now but you always feared your willingness to succumb to your hearts’ cries. 

You feared falling into him—falling for him. 

“Ironic, isn’t it?” He laughed, “just lead the way. I have nothing better to do anyway.” 

“I was just going down the street to Namseok’s Kitchen to get Hobi some chicken noodle soup. He isn’t feeling too well this morning.” 

“That’s only a five minute walk,” he nodded toward the path ahead, “Let’s go.” 

Five minutes felt like an eternity as the two of you walked towards your destination in utter silence. The street was pretty empty—only Jungkook, yourself and the rain remained. . And your thoughts, of course. They ran at record speed as you tried to relive every single moment from your past, you know; divulging in all the good times and wanting to fix every fucked up thing you’ve ever done. 

If only you could turn back time you’d make things right. 

In an attempt to skip another puddle, to prevent your socks from becoming sodden you accidentally moved closer to Jungkook and your elbow brushed against his. The feeling wasn’t foreign to you and it transported you to those nights, all of those moment when your bodies were so close you could smell the soap he’d used that morning, cardamom and vanilla, the scent still lingered around in your nose and you wondered if you were just hallucinating or if he actually still used the same soap. 

“While you order I’ll get us something hot,” he walked you to the glass door of the small diner, then turned towards the coffee shop across the street. 

“Jungkook!” You called out and he looked back in your direction, “Hold on,” you dug in your pocket reaching for a ten dollar bill, “Here.” 

“Just worry about the soup and get one for yourself. Your body will thank you tomorrow morning,” he shouted back. 

He disappeared into the shop as cars sped by in his shadow. You almost didn’t believe he was just right there. With you. Was he?

The bell on top of the door chimed as you walked into the restaurant, the squishing sound of your drenched shoes against the white tile bounced off of the baby blue walls. As you walked closer to the counter you wrapped yourself in a tight embrace to provide yourself with some warmth against the blasted AC. The place has always been light on decoration and made to feel more homey than anything else. There was a faux wall with photographs of customers hanging from loose thread, next to that there was a small circular table where the polaroid and its film was stationed. The remaining walls held all sorts of artworks in different shades of azure from Seokjin’s boyfriend, and Hobi’s brother, Namjoon. Towards the front was your favorite place, a bench stationed in-front of the floor to ceiling glass window. 

Namjoon approached the register, “oh no, what the fuck did he do now?” 

“He threw a party and woke up sick as fuck. I was just coming to get him some soup. He’s said he would puke anything else.” 

“And that little shit made you walk?” Seokjin walked up behind Joon taking a seat on the stool beside him. “Look at you…” he motioned towards you and you took a look at yourself in the circular mirror hung behind the two guys, a fucking mess, “you’re all wet. Did he make you come here alone?”

Before you even had the chance to answer Jinnie continued, “I’m going to kill him. You hear me?” He turned towards his boyfriend, “I am going to kill your brother.” 

Joon mumbled, “I might just join you.” 

“Before your two go on a killing spree…” you leaned against the wooden surface of the counter, “I kind of offered because I felt bad for his dumbass.”

“He still let you come all the way down here in this weather and that is enough to plan a crime,” Seokjin hissed, “Joonie will you get her a towel from the back?” 

Joon disappeared behind the beaded curtain. 

“Okay, so one soup for the idiot and one for you?” 

You nodded, “yes, chicken noodle soup please. Can you make that three though?”

“Who’s the third one for?” He raised an eyebrow staring you down like you had an intimate secret you were keeping from him. Well, technically, you were keeping some things to yourself but you weren’t lying just withholding the truth. It wasn’t the same thing. 

“It’s for the person who accompanied me here today.” 

“And who is that?” Joon asked, they were both overprotective, like older brothers, “you only have one friend and unfortunately I am related to him.” 

“Not a friend. . Just someone I know.” 

They hummed in unison exchanging suspecting looks between one another. Then, the bell on top of the door chimed once again, the same way it did when you walked in. You didn’t need to look to know who it was, his scent gave him away immediately. 

“Hi, welcome to Namseok’s kitchen,” Jin greeted him. 

“Hey,” he walked deeper into the restaurant until he finally stood right next to you as you continued drying off, “here. I got us lemongrass tea. I didn’t know what you like so I figured I get you the same as me.” 

Grabbing the to-go cup from his hand, you reply, “yeah, I like lemongrass tea.” 

You took a sip, basking in the heat of the piping hot liquid as it traveled down your throat and into your tummy. A tired whimper escaped your lips,  as you became entirely immersed in the flavors of the lemony taste exploding on your tongue. There was silence around you but you could feel three sets of eyes on you and instantaneously your eyes shot open. 

“I almost forgot Jin, Joon, this is Jungkook. Jungkook, this is Jin and Joon, Hobi’s brother and brother in law.”

“Nice to meet you.” 

“You, too,” Jinnie smiled in his direction and Joon followed suit, “Jungkook..” He repeated, “why does your name sound so familiar?” 

“I went to highschool with Hobi and..” he pointed at you, avoiding even the utterances of your name. There was no disgust lingering in his face but then again his expression was unreadable and you were sure he was masking his true feelings at the expense of the two men in front of you. 

“I knew it,” he clasped his hands together but as soon as you saw the thoughts wiring in his head and connecting together you shook your head to prevent him from continuing. Thankfully, he understood immediately, “yeah, I thought I had seen you before.” 

Jungkook also connected the dots because Jin hadn’t been in high school at the same time he was. Jinnie was three years older than you guys were and by the time he and Hobi had moved into town Seokjin had already graduated. But he was now aware that you had mentioned him in passing—now he knew that you had to have mentioned something about that time. 

“I’m going to go check on those soups,” Jin announced walking back towards the kitchen, “Joon, come on join me.”  

You walked past Jungkook with the brown cup held tightly in your grasp before taking a seat on the bench by the front window. The storm still ran rampant outside and the streets remained barren. Jungkook sat two tables down, near the wall, far away from you. 

“Do I owe you anything for the tea?” You mumbled holding up the cup in his direction. 

“I told you to not worry about it..” 

“I didn’t know Seokjin would bring that up,” you didn’t look at him, eyes lulled by your dusty white converse, “I didn’t know he would remember you.” 

“Just forget about it,” he shook his head, “you don’t need to explain.”

“No, I feel like I do.” 

“You don’t.” 

“Jungkook, please let me,” your eyes watered and your voice faltered. 

He sighed, taking a small sip of the tea before continuing, “please don’t explain. I don’t need an explanation. I have buried it all, it still lives in my head but it’s buried and I don’t need to resurrect the tsunami of emotions that comes along with that..” he pointed at his temples, “it’s still here but please do not awaken them. I don’t want to brush the brush off of those memories.” 

You two were the only people in the shop but you knew Joon and Jin were behind one of the walls eavesdropping. It was silent and the only noise in the small space was the whirring of the AC. 

“Are our good memories also buried somewhere?” You knew better than to ask but you needed to know. 

“I put those to rest first,” he admitted and your heart sank, “those memories, although good, were an incitement to everything else that lingered right behind. I had to get rid of those memories to get rid of everything else.” 

“Okay,” tears were beginning to swell up in the corners of your eyes and you tried your best to blink them away, “yeah, that’s okay. I understand why you had to do that.” 

“I’m sorr—” Jungkook began. 

“Don’t, please, you’re not the one who should be apologizing to me. I wouldn’t be able to live with myself if I let you do that.” 

The bell at the front desk chimed, ripping your attention away from Jungkook. Seokjin stood behind the counter holding two paper bags, “order’s up.”  

Walking up you thanked him and grabbed the bags, “thanks. I’ll have Hobi venmo you for this.” 

“Don’t even worry about it,” he smiled softly, “free lunches till you guys graduate remember. That goes for you too now, Jungkook.” 

“You don’t have to do that.” 

“I want to,” he handed him the smaller bag, “I mean it. I better see you around here more often.” 

“Thank you,” he smiled brightly, the kind of smile you hadn’t seen him wear in years. It was radiant and lit up his face with warmth. The indents on his cheek were deep and they framed his rose lips like they were a work of art. Not even the silver hoop piercing his bottom lip shone as brightly as he did when he smiled. You almost forgot how good it looked on him and you couldn’t help but stand there and admire him taking mental pictures to keep forever. 

He deserves someone better. Someone who’s going to make him smile like that until the end of time. Someone who wasn’t you.  

“And thank you for coming along with her since Hobi couldn’t.”

“It’s no problem.”

“I would offer you guys a ride back home but Jin and I walked to work today. Guess we didn’t really think things through either.” 

“It’s okay, Joon,” you zipped up your rain coat and pulled the hood over your head, “it’s only a five minute walk back.” 

After thanking Jin and Joon, the two of you exited the store and cut in through the alley way before landing on the road leading back to the dorms. Once again, the two of you stood dangerously close to one another radiating off each other’s body heat and before you knew it the building came into view and Jungkook led you up the walkway leading you to the main door. You didn’t want to let him go. You didn’t want him to leave you but it’s not like you could actually say that. 

You were a mere burden jumbled into bad memories and the worst years of his life.

“Thank you for coming along,” you pushed the thoughts although you don’t think you could ever really get rid of them. 

“No thanks needed. I couldn’t let you take the trip on your own, especially not in this weather.” 

He couldn’t let you. Your heart began to race as you tried to keep yourself from reading too much into his words. They probably didn’t mean anything… But what if he still cared? What if Jungkook still cared about you? 

“See you around.” He nodded before heading off in the direction of his dorm. 

I shouldn’t have said anything.

You turned around, but Jungkook was no longer near. His back was turned in your direction as he continued trotting down the sidewalk. Great! Now you’re hearing voices, after reaching for the metal door handle the voices reappeared. 

 Our memories are flavored in bitterness but I still can’t get her off my mind.

Jungkook was gone. 

The thing about rumors is that they spread like wildfires and no matter how hard you work to extinguish that fire it is always too little too late. That’s how you felt as soon as you crossed the threshold from the bathroom and into the congested hallways. Everyones prying eyes read you so intently condemning you for the hypocrisy of allowing someone like Jungkook to permanently ink his lips on yours. The passionate dance the two of you composed left behind the imprints of his lips as he tattooed your skin with each one of the pecks he left behind.  

Your phone buzzed in the back pocket of your jeans. You pulled it out, unlocking it, quickly seeing the photo your friend had snuck of you on his lap pop up. Your mouths devour one another and your bodies pressed together closely while your hand rests on his shoulder. 

You wanted to frame it—live in the pixels of that picture forever. 

‘Death complete bitch.’ Your best friend’s text read below the photo, ‘I can’t believe you actually kissed him.’

‘I can’t believe I did it either.” 

‘What was it like?’

The worst part about it is that it had to come to an end. Your mind traveled an hour back and you recall the velvet feel of his lips as they moved against yours mimicking the softness of clouds. At the sametime his tongue was saccharine tasting of the sweetness of strawberries and maple syrup leading  you to guess he had either waffles or pancakes for breakfast that morning. 

All you wanted was to run back into that bathroom. 

‘Nothing memorable. Just glad it’s over.’ 

‘Don’t worry you won’t ever have to kiss him again.’

Yeah, that was the fucking problem. You wanted to kiss him again, preferably you wanted to kiss him forever. 

‘Yeah, thankfully.’ 

You didn’t know when that kill switch that made you a complete and utter bitch was flipped on, but all you remember were those calamitous days when you didn’t really know who you were and who you were meant to be. Those days were marked with pen squiggles, they were blurred and you chose to permanently turn the light off and lock the door behind you in that section of your brain. 

Middle school was rough to say the least. But that was the beginning of your novel and you knew perfectly well who you were now. 

You had the friends you did because they made you look good, you had the clothes you did because you had a reputation to uphold and you had the boyfriend you did because someone like you is supposed to be with someone like him. Those were the simple unspoken rules of high school and at first they  were easy to follow until they weren’t. 

Everything was simple until that summer before freshman year. The day you visited the park near your house and you spotted him, with his chunky black boots and signature black outfit matching his jet black hair. The two of you were only fifteen then but he already had a tattoo on his wrist peeking out of the sleeve of his crewneck, back then he didn’t have his lip piercing—not yet at least. 

“I thought you only hung out in abandoned buildings and sketchy alley ways,” you remembered telling him that and the two of you spent hours on those swings talking the afternoon away. Back then, you learned Jungkook was a gentle giant disguised in an intimidating disguise. He was thoughtful in the way he looked at life and dreamt about the future, he was caring in the way that he spoke about nature, tattoos, music and everything else he held a deep passion for and lastly, he was attentive in the way he listened to you thoroughly drinking in every detail you had shared.

That was the Jungkook that made you fall for him in the blink of an eye but back then you didn’t know who he was and you were certainly not made aware of how things would end up. 

 The bell dismissing you from your last period class snapped you right out of your thoughts and you dashed out the door of the classroom wanting nothing more than to escape home and be left alone to bask in your thoughts. 

“There’s a fight outside!” a few students called out running past you. 

“Let’s go!” someone else yelled across the hallway. 

You were nervous to ask but you did anyway, “fight? Who’s fighting?”

“Your boyfriend’s fighting someone,” a girl you didn’t quite recognize replied, “Jungkook, or something like that I think.”

By the time you made it to the parking lot there was already a crowd of people forming a circle around both boys. Jungkook held his bloody nose while your boyfriend clenched and unclenched his hand, likely to relieve the pain of hitting Jungkook. You ran in their direction but as you neared them you saw as the boy you called yours landed another punch on Jungkook’s face causing him to fall back on the concrete. 

He didn’t fight back, didn’t even respond to the other boy’s insult. He just sat on the ground holding his face waiting for it all to be over. 

“Hey,” you finally reached him, shoving him back to prevent another callous attack on the boy behind you, “what the fuck are you doing?” 

“I saw the fucking picture,” he muttered through gritted teeth. 

“The girls and I played a game of dare or death,” you explained, “it was only part of the death I had to complete. It didn’t mean anything.”

He lunged towards you and poked at your chest, “you still kissed him.” 

The crowd went silent and your boyfriend’s anger highlighted the very thing you’d intended to place under lock and key—your pretty little secret no longer a secret or even pretty for that matter. You felt light headed and you weren’t sure if it was the punishing rays of the sun or the mental strain this was all causing. 

You didn’t regret that kiss; you never would but you also thought that picture would stay between you and your friends.

A wave of murmurs swayed all around you and you knew your reputation was descending by the second. 

You didn’t dare look at Jungkook, you knew his hypnotizing dark eyes would make you crumble. Seeing him like that. . The way he did all helpless and unprotected would compel you to care for him and cradle him in your arms until nothing or no one else could hurt him, “It meant nothing. Okay?” You heaved, “It meant nothing.” 

Instead, you were dragged away from the boy your heart screamed out for. 

Fuck, do I still like her?

Just shut up, Jungkook. It’s too early for this. 

I shouldn’t be asking myself that. Ever. 

Presently, you’ve gotten to know Jungkook for being reserved and fairly quiet, similar to how he was in high school except back then he actually spoke to you. But now, he is quiet and he doesn’t bother uttering a single word in your direction. The only times he ever addresses you is when he throws continuous jabs at you, landing every single one—he spews spiteful words of retaliation as a result of the shitty person were years ago and although you knew it was well-deserved that didn’t mean it hurt any less. Unlike his recently reserved outer shell, you quickly learned Jungkook’s mind traveled at the speed of light and for two days now, you could hear the constant battles of  thoughts breaking out in his head. 

Words crashed against each other; phrases were left abandoned half way through and ideas were left unfulfilled. 

You groaned smacking your silk pillow over your face, your mind was exhausted on overdrive and increasingly overheating all because Jungkook couldn’t ease his thoughts and empty his mind at five in the fucking morning. Who. . Thinks this much at such ungodly hours of the morning, the sun isn’t even up yet. 

The scattered clouds invaded the dark blue sky dusted in shades of purple. 

Does she think of me? 

I do. 

Did she ever feel what I felt when we kissed?

I did—I do. I still feel it. Similar to how the sun feels on you on a hot summer day, the sparks on their ignited route as they traveled through every single inch of your skin setting it alight even today. You felt it then and you could feel it now. 

Finally, his thoughts ceased and you guessed he’d probably drifted off into a slumber. He probably looked so peaceful you thought, grabbing one of your extra cushions, laid on your side and placed it in between your legs like a mommy pillow. Sleep came knocking on your door and your eyes began to feel heavy. 

Jungkook probably looked like an angel as he slept. You could picture him laying in a sea of his messy sheets against his golden tone. 

By the time you woke up once again, it was nine in the morning and the sun peeking in through the windows ripped you right out of your sleep. 

Your room door burst open, “hey! I knew you’d be awake. What do you have planned for the day?” Hobi took a seat on the edge of your bed. 

“Whatever happened to knocking? I could’ve been naked you know..” 

“We’ve seen each other naked plenty of times.” 

“Fair enough,” you laid facing the ceiling, “I wasn’t going to do much today just going to check Mr. Kim’s list. He posted it on the bulletin outside his class for our upcoming project.” 

“Do you want me to make you something to eat before I go?”

“I’m okay. Thank you, though.” 

He planted a soft kiss on your forehead, “I’ll be in the dance studio. You wanna come see me later?” His heart-shaped lips did very little to cover his pearly whites as he grinned, “I’ll give the front desk your name so they can let you up when you get there.” 

“Please, don’t forget like last time or I’ll have to fight someone for real this time,” you said. 

“Won’t,” he called out as he strutted towards the front door, “I promise. See you later.” You heard the door open and shut before you began falling asleep once again but the peace and quiet was very short lived because you heard him again. 

What did I even dream about?

You wondered the same. Was he the type to dream up cute scenarios in that pretty head of his as he drifted off for the night? Did your face invade his mind in the late hours of the night? You hope you did. 

Your name echoed in the basis of his mind followed by the emission of thunderous groans. 

He seemed. . frustrated. 

Ah, fuck. Yes, Jungkook just imagine it’s her. 

The image in your head was impure as soon as  you finally realized what Jungkook was actually doing. You’d imagined his hand disappearing under the base of the pyramid forming through his duvet. Stroking himself slowly, his head lolled back against his headboard, sweat glistening on his chest and forehead, while his eyes fluttered closed as his eyelashes batting away all reminders of reality. 

I want her touch—need it. So bad. 

You’d become too enthralled in the symphony of Jungkook’s whimpers that you hadn’t really noticed the death grip you had on your bed sheets as your knuckles turned white and the way your legs rubbed against each other in a desperate plea for some friction. 

This was private. Jungkook needed privacy and while your mind opened a portal which prevented that, the best thing you could do was ignore him and the sensual persuasion laced in his bedroom voice, no matter how desperately he called out for you, it wasn’t right. 

Ignore. 

God, I would fuck her so good. 

Think of something else. 

With my cock buried deep inside of her. Fucking her into my mattress until she’s shaking with the overbearing stimulation of pleasure. Until, even her own name becomes a mere afterthought. 

You grabbed your phone from the night stand but your lame attempt at a ‘distraction’ was useless. His words were addictive and you were already soaked right through your panties. Your sheets began sticking to your sweaty skin while Jungkook’s ardent words continued heating you up. 

She would take me so well. Fuck! 

A shower! That’s what you’d do—just take a cold cold shower to ease those thoughts and shut him out until he finally finishes. 

You hissed as the hard pressure of frigid water hit your body from the shower head, even this wasn’t enough to mask the way your body shuddered as Jungkook continued. It was even more enticing that after everything—after his hostile gazes and cold words your face was in the forefront of his brain as he touched himself.

His alluring thoughts kept on playing one after the other and your cunt became the victim crying out to him with patterned pleas he would never hear. Your juices strolled down your inner thigh mixed in with the streaks of water and you could no longer bear the desperate thumps of aching cunt. You were going mad, honestly his stamina and self control were all to blame. The combination was torturous.  

While you weren’t one hundred-percent sure of what he was doing the way his thoughts became sporadic weathering winds of pleasure and then tranquility. It was a cycle, he would be on the verge of succumbing to his peak and then all of the sudden he would stop. Before beginning once again and again and again. 

The viciousness of his desire lasted until right around the time you turned the shower off and you couldn’t tell if for the past twenty minutes you had been in your own personal heaven or hell. 

I hate how much I still want her. 

I hate that I can’t have her. 

You can have me, Jungkook. You can have me now, tomorrow and forever.  

The heat was overbearing and you could feel the way your tank became soaked with sweat and the thin fabric stuck to your body. You heaved as you pushed open the glass door into the English building. Mr. Kim’s room was on the third floor and the bulletin board was stationed right next to his door. After opting out of climbing three flights of stairs you ride the elevator up and exit out to look at the posted partners for Mr. Kim’s upcoming project. Walking down the main hall you turn left and there it is—there he is. 

The simplicity of his outfit was composed of a plain white tee, gray sweat shorts, and over the ankle white socks tucked into black slides. The colorful ink adorning his skin still peaked under the sleeve of his shirt, his black wavy hair rested on the nape of his neck. 

The hallways were completely empty and his back still faced you so you kind of just stood there unsure of what to say or do. I mean you’d heard him masturbating just a few hours ago and while you truly did not mind even the slightest you weren’t quite sure how to even interact with him moving forward. While he seemed to despise you for the events that unfolded back in high school this morning was a complete change of events. His voice was dipped in sex as he moaned your name until he finally came. 

God, why was it so hot in here? Is the AC really off mid-summertime? 

“Hey,” his doe eyes stared at you, studying your off-putting exterior. Your eyes were blown wide, your tank was still soaked with sweat and you just stood there ogling him, “are you okay?” 

He stepped towards you with worrisome eyes. ‘Oh yes Jungkook, I’m okay. I’m just picturing the way your hand climbs up and down the length of your dick, head tilted back, mouth slightly opened as groans form at the root of your throat. You know, the way you probably looked this morning.’ 

Instead you decided on a soft, “I’m okay.” 

“You look like you’re about to pass out,” he placed his hand on your shoulder and you nearly fainted at the intense heat emitted from his skin to yours, “here, sit down,” he guided you to one of the lounge chairs sat opposite Mr. Kim’s class, “have you drank anything today?” 

How could you kindly explain that was not the kind of thirst you were looking to quench. 

“No. .” you shook your head.

“Okay, okay,” he grabbed a water bottle from the black backpack sitting at his feet. You hadn’t even noticed it before, you had been so focused on him the entire time, “here drink some.” 

The bottle was half empty meaning his lips were on it and now your lips would be on it too. This wasn’t really what you meant when you said you wanted to feel his lips on yours but you didn’t really mind either. 

“Yeah, sorry, I got thirsty on the way here,” he scratched the back of his neck, “I can get you one from the vending machine.” 

You must’ve been looking at the bottle resting in his grasp like an idiot, “no, it’s okay Jungkook,” you rested your palm on top of his hand, “it’s not like we haven’t kissed before right?” 

His eyes turned a shade darker than their usual brown and he cleared his throat, letting go of the water bottle right into your grip, “right.” he stepped back as if you were a cactus ready to nick him with one of your spines, “I was looking at the list for Mr. Kim’s class and we are partnered together with Jimin for the project.” 

“Okay, should we meet at my place tonight or tomorrow? This is due this Monday,” you took a sip of the water tasting the remnants of Jungkook’s strawberry chapstick left behind on the rim. 

“I have a basketball tournament due tonight but we can meet tomorrow if you’d like.” 

“Tomorrow,” you repeated, “any time?” 

“After four?” 

“See you then.” 

For the first time in forever Hoseok had actually left your name at the front desk of the studio on campus. After being left up you walked in through the double doors of the dance studio where the music blasted at highest volume and your best friend’s shoes squeaked against the shiny wooden floor as he moved throughout the room swiftly executing his choreography with perfection. Hobi was a force to be reckoned with and dance was his element. 

“You’re here,” his professional and focused aura peeled back as soon as he saw you enter the room, “I need a break anyway.” 

You sat on the floor with your back resting against the wall of mirrors. 

“I’m here and I cannot believe I witnessed such perfection,” you clapped your hands, “I still cannot believe my best friend is talented enough to finally snatch me away from poverty.” 

“You know I got us,” he sat beside you before laying his head on your lap. He was covered in a thin layer of sweat from head to toe, “but let’s not forget you chose to be poor.” 

“I didn’t have much of a choice. I can’t really help having idiotic parents,” you shrugged. 

“I know baby,” he cooed. Hobi was quiet which was definitely out of his usual nature where he radiated a blinding luminescent orb around his being. He fidgeted with the strings on his sweatpants and opened his mouth only to say it again. 

“Hoseok, you’re anxious and it’s making me anxious. Just say what you need to say.” 

You combed your fingers through his damp hair, “I saw they, your parents, left a voicemail for you last week. Did you ever get back to them?” 

“No,” you sighed, “and I don’t think I want to either. Everything they tried to do and were willing to do was truly wicked and unforgivable.” 

“You never told me what happened.”

“It involves Jungkook, of course, and everything we did while in high school, Yeonjun’s party the summer before senior year.” 

“The one he threw the week before school started?” 

“Yes.”

“To this day I still can’t remember shit about that night.” 

You chuckled, “a lot of our classmates don’t remember that night at all but I do. I remember every single detail.” 

He didn’t say anything so you continued. 

Yeonjun’s lake house was like a maze. There were numerous narrow halls with an array of doors carved on each wall and it was the same for every single corner you’ve turned into so far. The little bit of alcohol you had began clouding your mind and you felt more intoxicated than you actually were. Your kitten heeled black sandals clacking against the hardwood floor sought a way out of this elaborate labyrinth and back to what you originally came for. 

The music playing just a floor below faded as you traveled deeper and deeper into the second floor, although you could still feel the booming bass vibrating right under your feet. 

You just needed a bathroom—not because you actually needed to use it but because you needed to take a minute to yourself. . to breathe. Every other corner of this house including the back and front yards and even the fucking lake are already invaded by massive seas of drunk teenagers. Their voices were too loud, the music was headache inducing and the atmosphere adopted a stench of sweat and b.o. 

After ditching the red solo cup on a nearby console table, you leaned against the off-white walls closing your to block out the dim lights making you a bit lightheaded. 

Seriously, who even had this many fucking rooms in one house. You mumbled. 

Sure, your family was wealthy but you were nothing like the Choi family. Your parents were both doctor’s devoting their time to the tiny private practice the two of them founded but on the other hand Yeonjun’s family came from a long lineage of  businessmen and they practically owned a handful of the businesses for miles and miles around. 

You weren’t jealous of all of the extra zeroes attached to his parents’ net worth, you and your own lived comfortably enough to not have any financial complaints. However, his parents were more liberal and they didn’t clip his wings. They weren’t clingy or demanding and they certainly did not push anything on him that he didn’t want to do. Your parents were not this way, they were controlling, and they told you what to do and eat, who to hang out with and date. With covetous thoughts you wondered if there would ever be a point in your life where you could feel as free as Yeonjun did. 

Maybe now that you’ve turned eighteen things would be different. Doubtful—your birthday was a month ago and nothing has changed. Unfortunately, you still lived under their roof and relied on their money. 

You removed your shoes and hesitated whether to travel back down stairs and out somewhere into the depth of the forest but immediately erased the thought from your mind as you looked down at your bare feet, mini skirt and crop top. This wasn’t really an appropriate outfit to go off exploring the woods in the middle of the night. 

The minutes continued ticking by and finally you spotted a door at the end of the opposite hallway with a vertical rectangular piece of frosted glass cut right down the middle. Your feet traveled down the heated floors before your hand reached out for the black knob; turning it slowly. 

It was a rooftop balcony. 

The railing was wrapped in garden lights, while two sets of black cushioned reclining beach chairs sat around a propane fire pit. There was a massive grill to the other side, a bar that would put a nightclub to shame and a huge patio furniture set. 

Your eyes thoroughly scanned your surroundings before landing on the boy leaning against the rail staring at the idiots swimming in the lake below. For the first time since you met him approximately four years ago his legs were exposed under the light washed knee length jorts, he wore a white t-shirt and a pair of black and white checkered vans. Still, right up the alley of what his style embodied but you had to admit you missed his signature chunky boots. 

He still hadn’t noticed you so you walked up slowly, “I never thought I’d see you at a party like this,” you whispered in his ear before jumping right beside him. 

The moon rays reflected a twinkle in his dark eyes, “Yeonjun and I are cool.” 

“So, why aren’t you down stairs?” 

“Why aren’t you?” his gaze traveled from your black painted toes all the way up to your eyes as if he was studying you intently. 

“Too crowded,” you shrugged, “and not enough room to breathe.” 

Jungkook looked ahead, his vision once again consumed by the dark green and brown shades of the dense forest once again, his side profile put artworks all across the world to shame. 

“Yeah, same,” he added, “I’m gonna let you in on a little secret but parties aren’t really my thing.” 

“No way. . I’ve seen you at every party for the past three years,” he dramatically rolled his eyes at the sarcasm in your voice and you chuckled before continuing a bit softer, “is this your first one?” 

Jungkook nodded, “first one I’ve been invited to and the first I’ve ever attended too.”

“We’re breaking records tonight aren’t we.” 

“I guess I’m feeling a bit audacious.” 

You sneered, “audacious? Big word.” 

“Don’t tell me you think I’m stupid like the rest of our classmates. .” 

“I did my internship in the main office last year which included sealing report cards and sending them off,” he walked to one of the chairs and laid on it placing both of his palms under his head. Was he flexing? Couldn’t be. “You’ve practically taken every AP class offered at our school and aced all of them too. It’s a miracle how you have managed.” 

“What can I say?” he smiled and his cheeks rose like two loaves of bread in an oven, “I’m all brains baby.” 

“Brains and beauty,” you corrected. 

“I can’t also be ‘beauty’ when you’re here; living, breathing, being,” Jungkook is the personification of all of your desires and his aura worked hard to draw you closer and closer in his direction no matter how hard you worked to stay away, for his sake. Even when you tried to repel away from him the gravitational force he exuded called out your name and your tympanum became inundated by the wails of his being. 

Only he lived in your thoughts. 

The video-like memories you have shot of him throughout the years loop in your mind day and night. It was dizzying but you didn’t want it any other way. 

“You are beautiful,” you let your thoughts roll off your tongue freely—too tipsy to care and too enthralled by his striking features to lie about what you truly felt. What you’ve been working so hard to suppress for the past few years. You were tired of hiding, so fucking tired, “with your big beautiful eyes, and your cherry lips and rosey cheeks and all of these tattoos,” you carried on, “oh, and those piercings. Don’t you know that Jungkook?” 

He was flushed and his head became tilted down as he played around with the silver rings on his fingers, “know what?” 

“That you are more beautiful than life itself.” 

Jungkook scooched over on the chair and patted the empty space beside him inviting you to sit near him and you did. He laid on his side while his face rested on his left palm. 

“Are you drunk?” he asked. 

“I only had two sips of Hobi’s drink,” you looked up at him through your eyelashes, “I’ve been on cranberry juice most of the night.” 

“So this is not a case of drunken words you’ll forget once the sun comes up?” he leaned in closer and you could see the faint freckles dancing on his cheeks and on the bridge of his nose. 

His eyes sparkled projecting bright constellations never before seen in the heavens, “I could never forget anything about you.” 

“You know I can’t believe that right?” 

“Why not?” 

“Because you’ve forgotten about me for the past year,” he smiled devilishly, “you haven’t spared me the time of day. I’ve missed your sneaky glances. The way you’d drop your pencil half way through algebra just to bat those pretty eyelashes in my direction kind of like you are now.” 

“I didn’t do that just to look at you,” you clutched the thin gold chain hanging from his neck, guiding him closer to you, “I was just genuinely clumsy.” 

“I’m just saying it’s funny how the pencil always fell in my direction,” 

“Forget the pencil, Jungkook,” shivers cascaded down your back as his lips hovered over yours—his breath fanning against them. The aroma of lemon, and mint, with woody and balsamic undertones tickled your nostrils. 

Jungkook shook his head, his eyes remained on your lips as you swiped your tongue along them, “it’s not about the pencil?” 

“It’s not,” you added, tucking the few strands of hair that framed his face behind his ear. You just wanted to lay there with him forever, to be consumed by the warmth of his embrace, to lose yourself in the tenderness of his kisses, to wake up next to him tomorrow and also every single day after that. 

“So just admit you wanted to lo—”

You lips landed on his and finally you remembered just how magical kissing Jungkook was except unlike that day in school the bathroom, today, it wasn’t a game. You were there on your own free will and you didn’t care who was around to see. The only concern clouding your mind was how much more of him you craved. The way your mouths moved each other made you feel inebriated, even more than alcohol ever could and you weren’t afraid to admit his lips had you addicted. 

The silver metal hoop hung onto the corner of his lip felt cold, but so good in comparison to his heated kisses. Despite where you were or how many people currently invaded Yeonjun’s house it felt like you and Jungkook were the only two people on the entire planet. Just the two of you with your lips dancing on each other with the moon and the stars baring as your only witnesses. 

Jungkook pulled away slowly—panting slightly, “please shut me up like that more often,” he held your face, resting his forehead on yours and pecking your lips continuously, “tell me you’ll do it. Tell me you’ll always kiss my stupidity away.” 

You nodded, “Jungkook, how about I kiss you like that always and forever. Not only because of your stupidity as you call it but just because.”

“Are you trying to confess something?” 

He sat across from you on the beach chair taking your legs onto his lap, his soft hands massaged the soles of your feet. You swallowed back the guttural groan riding up your throat melting deeper into the chair due to his therapeutic touch. His fingers moved higher and higher up the length of your extremities, halting right above your knees, yet he continued kneading his fingers into your skin. 

“Tell me.” 

You hummed. 

“I need you to be an open book with me. What are you looking to confess?” 

Your eyes remained closed as he continued touching you gently—almost feather-like, “Jungkook, I can’t really think when you’re doing that. .” 

“Should I stop?” 

“No, please,” you pant. 

He continued kneading your thighs, “tell me.” 

From the tips of his fingers currents of electricity trickled onto your skin, “ah, fuck. .” you breathed, “I like you Jungkook. I like you. Okay?”  

Hobi sat up beside you, now leaning against the mirrors as well. The sun has begun its journey towards the horizon and its rays peaked through the slightly drawn blinds,  “wait so you guys. .?” 

You nodded but said nothing else. That night had been a secret between you and Jungkook. 

“On the roof of Yeonjun’s house during our senior year back to school bash?” The surprise in his tone was evident but you weren’t taken back by it all. 

“Yes,” you smiled faintly, unwilling to hide the giddiness you felt from the memories of your time together from Jungkook, “it was our little secret. We swore to each other we wouldn’t  say anything to anyone. That’s why I didn't mention anything to you before but obviously someone saw and word got out that same night.” 

Hobi sighed, “don’t tell me another fight broke out between him and your dumbass ex-boyfriend.” 

You shook your head, “this time it was different. I wasn’t scared of what others thought anymore. In that moment I decided I would stop caring. I wanted to stop hurting him,” your clammy hands began to shake slightly and Hobi placed his palms on top of them to stop their trembling, “that night after the party we rode around all night aimlessly. Enjoying each other’s company and truly I was the happiest I had ever been all my life. Everything went to shit as soon as I made it home and walked in through the door. My parents waited for me to get in, they sat me down and began rambling about my change in behavior and how different I had become.”

He hummed and you took that as a sign to continue. 

“As soon as I sat on the chair that night they slid over my mom’s phone and there was a picture of Jungkook and I kissing on one of the longue chairs. I swear I had dejavu from freshman year.” 

“Did you ever find who took the picture?” 

“I never did but I always figured it was one of my ex’s minions or something,” you shrugged, “to be honest, trying to figure it out was the last thing on my mind. They started talking and talking rambling on about my personality change and rebelliance and how Jungkook was the cause of it or some shit.” 

“How did they even come up with that?” 

“I asked myself the same thing,” you snickered, just thinking about it even now makes your blood boil, “but it didn’t matter. Being eighteen didn’t matter; they just wanted to keep us away from each other at all costs. They made all types of threats to make me press charges and file a restraining order which I obviously refused. Then, they vowed to make his life hell if I didn’t stay away and I didn’t want to find out what they meant so I decided to comply and stay away.” 

“Okay, now I’m beginning to understand why you moved in with my family half way through senior year,” his thumb rubbed circles on the dorsal side of your hand, “were they mad when you left? I used to ask my mom if your folks ever reached out but she always avoided the question.” 

“They were livid but nothing they could ever say or do would ever make me stay in that place.” 

“Did they manage to leave Jungkook alone?” 

“Well, after the big cut-off Jungkook and I were never able to find our way back to each other,” your voice was low, almost as if you couldn’t hear yourself it just wouldn’t be true, “and I moved in with you and your mom and I completely blocked them out of my life.” 

“Good. I’m glad you ditched them,” he pinched your cheeks, “you deserve better than them and their money’s no good to you anyway.” 

“I just wish I would’ve kept in contact with him. Maybe tell him what was going on or something,” you scratched the back of your neck obviously frustrated at your lack of communication skills as a stupid eighteen year old. You were such an idiot—why couldn’t you open your fucking mouth? 

“We all make bad decisions at one point in our lives but you had no choice, baby. You were sandwiched into the wall one bad choice up against another. You made the best decision you could with the circumstances at hand,” he snuggled closer to you, wrapping one hand around your shoulder, “don’t beat yourself up over it please.” 

“I love you. Seriously, I don’t know what I would ever do without you.” 

He kissed your forehead, “I love you more.”

Today Jungkook’s highway of thoughts has eased and though you liked how calm the morning has been you also kind of missed the feeling of his lingering presence—almost as if your own shadow was missing. 

You despised waking up towards the early hours of the afternoon but today you couldn’t seem to peel yourself out of of your bed, until finally you couldn’t fathom the idea of napping your day away—plus couldn’t do that even if you wanted to because Jungkook and Jimin would be over in about thirty minutes to begin working on Mr. Kim’s project. 

Jimin had been the middle man in this entire set-up, he had both of your numbers so he took it upon himself to text the two of your separately (because he knew you and Jungkook were physically impossible of initiating a social exchange amongst yourselves), and get you both on board with a neutral territory to meet at. Of course, Jimin’s idea of a neutral territory involved a place where he could catch glimpses of his ex strutting around which meant your apartment was his ideal meeting spot and although his thoughts hadn’t revealed anything so far you just knew Jungkook wasn’t ecstatic about this whole arrangement. 

After taking a quick shower, getting dressed and setting up a plate of sliced fruits and a couple bags of snack size chips and cookies you heard a light knock on your door. 

Taking a deep breath you turned the knob before pulling the door open. It was Jungkook and as always he looked breathtaking. You were beginning to think comfort was his go-to because yet again, he wore sweats and a simple t-shirt—tattoos still peeking out at you, his bottom lip still pierced with the same small silver hoop, hair half up half down and his book bag slung on his left shoulder. 

Removing his headphones he stared back at you as you continued ogling him, “hey. .” he greeted in his deep tone. 

Why is she staring at me like that? 

Do I have a stain or something? 

He looked down at his shirt but when he saw nothing he just stared back at you tilting his head slightly. 

“Hi,” you stepped out of his way and he finally crossed over the threshold into your apartment, “you’re the first one here so we’re just waiting on Jimin to make it before we begin. Please sit anywhere.” 

He nodded. 

The apartment wasn’t necessarily big but it wasn’t small either. An open floor plan made up the space between the kitchen and living room area with a rectangular island separating the two rooms. Immediately to the right of that was the door leading to Hobi’s room, then your room sat at the end of that hall just a couple feet away and the bathroom was just across from your door. 

Yet even as you walked towards the kitchen and Jungkook made strides towards the love seat in the living room you felt like the two of you were cramped in a tiny box with the temperature hiked to the highest setting. God, there were about a million things you could say or offer him but nothing could ever mend his broken heart and that was enough to keep your lips sealed tight. 

Where the fuck is Jimin? 

I don’t know if I can be here alone with her for much longer. 

And it’s so fucking hot. I’m gonna pass out. 

Fuck, you knew it. He’s upset. Though you already figured coming here was probably  hard for him, you didn’t imagine it would hurt you as much as it did to actually know how much he despised being in your vicinity, but it did. 

Jungkook sat rather stiffly on the couch, bag still slung on his back as if he was ready to leave, staring off into the distance while his leg bounced up and down anxiously. Strolling past him silently you nearned the thermostat and cranked the AC up higher.  

That’ll literally fix nothing at all. 

You turned around taking a seat on one of the accent chairs near the row of windows on the opposite end of the living room. If it wasn’t for the invasion of his thoughts, the silence would be killing you softly. 

“Have you heard anything from Jimin?” he finally looked in your direction but not into your eyes instead they lingered lower—in the direction of your legs. The hunger displayed in his eyes took you back to the night before when he moaned your name so sweetly. 

“Nothing,” you tapped your screen to show him the lack of texts and placing the phone back on your thigh, his gaze followed almost like he was hypnotized. 

You would give anything to hear him just one more time—Fuck, just once more. 

He cleared his throat, snapping out of those sinful thoughts cooking up in your head, “yeah, same. And I’ve texted him like three times.” 

“I’m thinking that little shit bailed even though he planned this whole thing,” you were scared to form your thoughts into actual words, “do you want us to start or would you rather wait for him?” 

He breathed out almost exasperated—damn, you should’ve kept the suggestion to yourself. You were about to take it all back but then he finally spoke up, “We’re both here now. I think we can begin and then fill him in. . If that’s okay with you.” 

“Yeah, I think that’s the best we can do,” did he just willingly comply with staying alone with you, “I’ll go get my notebook. Gimme one second.” 

“Okay.” 

Right. . Okay. Just here to get our work done. That’s all. That is all. Yeah. 

You sat beside him on the couch startling him just a bit—he seemed tense, “so we’re supposed to pick a movie, and match no less than three scenes to at least one of the emotions listed.” 

“I say we do the very minimum and pick the movie I’m sure we’ve all watched,” he asked, unzipping his bag and pulling out his notebook. 

“Titanic?” you asked. 

“No, The Blind Side,” he scoffed, “do we really want to sit here for one hundred hours just to recap the eternity that is Titanic?” 

“But the emotions for Titanic are so easy to dissect; we have happiness, love, and jealousy right off the bat,” you argued, “the assignment is practically done for us already.” 

“Yeah, but everyone’s going to do Titanic. We need to stand out. Be different.” 

“It’s an intro to writing class. I vote for taking it easy, weren’t you just moaning about taking it easy anyway?” your tone was a bit condescending you’d admit but the way he scanned your figure was addicting. There was nothing you craved more in this world than to have his gaze drink you in as if you were his favorite drink. 

“I wasn’t moaning.” 

I was last night though. 

You swallowed hard, biting your tongue and holding yourself back from going along with begging him to moan the way you’d heard him do so the night before. His husk groans so low and sweet, so fucking sweet, “But you were.” 

“It was a suggestion. There was no moaning involved.” 

“Well, maybe if you did moan I would cave and take your suggestion,” the words rolled off your tongue before you could ever stop them. 

He smirked, “so you just wanna hear me moan.” 

Don’t smirk. 

Eternally mad at her, remember?

The internal conflict raging within him gave you at least a little bit of hope. As you mapped out the field of his thoughts you figured he wanted nothing to do with but distance himself; to be cold and standoffish but he also revealed he wanted you. He wanted you near—to hold you, kiss you, touch you. 

It was confusing and headache inducing but you liked that you still lived in his mind the same way he lived in yours. 

You shrugged, “maybe I do.” 

“Please, don’t,” his eyes finally met yours. 

Look away. 

But he didn’t and you were glad he didn’t. 

“Do you want me to beg Jungkook?” you purred low and slow—the translation intended was desperation and you hoped he understood exactly what you were hinting at. You were tired of hiding behind your emotions. 

She’s a fucking pied piper and I’m the snake hyptonized by sweet song and mindlessly slithering towards her. 

Yes, Jungkook. Come closer, come to me. If only he could listen to your thoughts, this would be a whole lot easier. 

Fucking one way telepathy. 

“Uh,” there was a mere blank look plastered on his features. His pupils were blown and a soft tint of rose dusted his cheeks. It was as if your words had sucker punched him and he was still processing the hit. 

You moved closer to him on the couch, placed your hand on his thighs to balance yourself as you drew closer to his ear, “please, Jungkook. Please, I need to hear you moan again.” 

Fuck. 

Fuck! 

He groaned and the honeyed husk tone sent a trail of goosebumps up your thighs resulting in your panties becoming moist, “please.” 

“Jungkook, I want you,” it was the first time in years you’d heard those words adjacent to his name and fuck did it feel good. 

Fuck it. 

His calloused hands were now on your waist and he began guiding you to lay on the loveseat before your hand landed on his chest to stop him. 

“I said I want you,” you sat him back down before kneeling in-between his legs. The fit of his sweats got tighter, lifting and taking on the shape of a tent, “you didn’t reciprocate the sentiment so that means I’m in charge here today.” 

Tell her. It’s easy. 

Tell her you want her too, you fucking idiot. 

He never vocalized it but you didn’t mind—knowing the thought pranced around on his mind was more than enough for you. 

“Are you okay with taking these off?” he complied, taking his sweats off swiftly, letting the pool at his ankles. Jungkook is fucking big and you were taken back by the sight, “good boy,” you cooed. 

His head fell back on the headrest while his eyes were shut tightly and his breathing became uneven. Oh! He likes that. He likes being called a good boy; you made a mental note to call him that again if you find yourself in a similar predicament. 

You raked your nails along his inner thigh, “Jungkook?” 

He hummed. 

“What do you fantasize about?” you laid your head on his thigh, his dick just a couple inches away from your face and truly all you wanted was to take him all in your mouth. 

“Alot of things.” 

You reached up, taking his length into your hold and he winced at the contact as you began moving your hand up and down once and once again, “I need more details than that.”

“I think of. .” his words became jumbled in his throat as you continued your very mellow and teasing touch, “of you doing, ah fuck, of you doing all these things to me.”

You clicked your tongue and shook your head at his semi-confession, “Jungkook, have you touched yourself while you think of me, hm?” 

Of course, you already knew. You’d heard it yourself but you just loved seeing him become so affected and so sensitive as a result of your lewd utters. 

Your palms traveled up to his pink tip and began rubbing circles with your thumb painting it white with his precum. 

“Good boys don’t touch themself.” 

Jungkook’s mouth remained agape but there were no words communicated instead he formed a sort of soft whimper, and that was the kind of motivation your body needed to go into overdrive. 

You wanted. . No, needed to rid yourself of these suffocating ass fucking clothes, you needed to touch yourself—to release that tension aching so painfully in between your legs. But you didn’t. Today was not about you. 

“I know. .” he groaned, digging his nails onto the black leather couch, “but when I have you invade my thoughts,” he paused looking for all of the right words, “I just can’t control myself.” 

“Hm, seems like I have a lot to live up to compared to your fantasies,” you kissed the head enveloped in your hand before swiping your tongue along his shaft and he hissed. 

His saccharine noises should be made into a playlist so that you could be able to replay them over and over everywhere you go but especially when  you lay under the covers of your bed in the late hours of the night. The only thoughts occupying your mind would be the compositions of his lustful cries as your fingers worked diligently to get yourself off. 

It was so tempting to just allow his hands to continue traveling down your stomach and waist, a few more inches and his fingers could be at the exact location where your body screamed out for his attention. 

You wanted it so bad. 

You tutted while clicking your tongue, “sit back, Jungkook,” you removed his warm feeling away from your lower back and placed them on his knees before patting them softly, “and keep your hands to yourself. Yeah?” 

“It’s really hard to,” he said, “nearly impossible when you’re working so hard to get me off and you’re just sitting there squirming whenever I talk about touching you. Cause the thought has lingered around in your mind, right?” 

“Jungkook, this is not how tonight is supposed to go.” 

“Then, how is it supposed to go?” 

Your hand began moving up and down his cock, pumping him once again before you felt the corners of your mouth beginning to sting as you wrapped your lips around him. It was painful. . Good painful though. With each passing second you bobbed your head on his cock working to take him inch by inch but no matter how much you tried, it was nearly impossible. 

His hand snaked around your neck aiding you, sinking himself deeper into the warmth of your mouth. With strings of saliva streaming down your chin, puffy lips, heated skin and a sort of fucked out look in your eyes you continued the repetition. 

Seeing him lose himself under the ministrations of your touch and mouth was overwhelming and drove you to the verge of nearly succumbing to the peaking orgasm lurking close by. Instead you diverted your mind to what you were doing instead of what you felt. Placing one your hand around the base of his balls massaging them into your touch, while you put firm pressure with your thumb on the perineum—and that’s when you saw the explosion of fireworks erupt in his eyes while his thighs began to shake. 

Fuck, fuck, fuck, Her mouth is—fuck! 

“I’m so close,” a needy whimper escaped his lips, “please don’t stop. Don’t ever stop. Please.” 

You complied, nearly choking on his cock. The feeling of being nearly rid of your ability to breathe was addicting and yes, if tonight were to be your last day on earth it would be a pleasure to die with Jungkook’s dick in your mouth. 

“I’ve been a good boy,” he cried out, “can I please cum?” 

Been such a good boy. So good. 

You hummed in approval right before he spilled into your mouth and you swallowed every bit of it before turning to see his splayed out body—all limp and tired. 

After wiping the corners of your mouth you sat beside him on the couch. Your knees were red and stung just a bit but honestly you could do it all over again—all night if you could. Slightly, opening his eyes he looked down, placing a kiss on each knee. 

“I never thought we would-” he paused momentarily, “we would do something like this ever again.” 

“Really?” your voice became hoarse, “because I’ve thought about it for a long long time now.” 

“You have?” 

“I have,” you continued, “and I’d like to think you do as well but if you’re ever ready to actually admit what you truly feel you know where I’ll be.” 

I do want you. So bad. 

And my feelings for you have always remained the same. I still have feelings for you, I feel everything for you. I always have and always will. 

He didn’t say a word but simply offered a sly smile before slipping away to get himself together in the bathroom. 

… But you were not disappointed. 

He needed time and that’s okay. You’d be more than happy to give him the time to dissect this peculiar relationship the two of you have. . developed. It’s the least you could do after all these years. 

In your heart you just hope he finds his way back to you. 

“So you sucked him dry and then you both continued to work on the project like nothing happened?” Jimin asked; his head laid on Hobi’s lap. Yes, they were back together. This was apparently the reason why he had missed the project session the night before.  

“We were kinda forced to when your ass was MIA from the very meeting you set-up.” 

He rolled his eyes, “nobody forced you to suck his dick.” 

“Fuck you, Jimin.” 

“Why don’t you begin by fucking Jungkook instead.” 

“Jungkook and I aren’t fucking anytime soon,” you sighed spinning around on your desk chair. The ceiling seemed to come crashing down on you even as you thought of gravity of your fucked up reality, “it’s like I can feel that he still feels something for me but he just won’t vocalize it.” 

Hobi caressed the apples of Jimin’s pink cheeks, stroking them lightly with his thumb. They were the picture perfect image of love—whenever they were not fighting of course. 

“So you sucked his dick at the expense of what?” Hobi inquired. 

“I really just wanted him in my fucking mouth,” you shrugged not really wanting to scramble for any other explanation because the truth of the matter is all of you would always calls out for Jungkook whether you wanted to or not. 

“Oh, baby,” Hobi abandoned his place on your bed and kneeled in front of you holding your hands in his, “while I support all forms of slut revelations and tendencies as your best friend it is within my obligation to require you to tend after your heart.” 

You nodded. 

“Jungkook is alluring, captivating, mysterious and absolutely handsome—” Jimin cleared his throat behind him, but he ignored his boyfriend and proceeded, “and the two of you have a lot of history both good and bad but you have to understand what happened in the past is yesterday’s event. Jungkook can break your heart or hurt you in any way and it’ll be just as fucked up no matter what happened between the two of you back in high school. Okay?” 

“Okay,” Hobi was right but how could you shut out the part of your brain which justified every single way Jungkook could tear you apart? Underneath the spark; shining bright in your eyes every single time he appeared in your line of vision you knew you deserved his wrath for every inconvenience you had a role in while inserted into his path. 

“Don’t just say it. Mean it.” 

The room felt smaller, suffocating, colder and Hobi’s words rolled around in your head in every single direction. The three of you were sprawled around your full bed watching a random movie Jimin had picked out. You sat up against the headboard while the two of them laid on their stomachs facing the television hung on your wall. You weren’t alone but your bed felt empty and as you looked off to your right you couldn’t help but be transported back to last night when you and Jungkook finally settled on the Titanic.

The tragic telling of two people who found their way to each other against all circumstances and the barrier of societal norms and expectations that stood in-between them. Of course, aside from Leo unnecessarily dying in the final act this could be a retelling of pinpoints on your relationship with Jungkook. You liked each other, your parents were against it, you lived in the moment and you let your heart lead a way here and there but as soon as the iceberg (your parents, your ex, and even you) became introduced as the antagonist the two of you found yourselves swimming in an ocean of heartbreak and despair. 

You would always assume responsibility for every single way you hurt Jungkook in the past but if one thing must be crystal clear is that you also love him. You did back then and you do now—the only difference is that back then you were looking to please all of those around you and you suppress your feelings in the deepest pocket of your heart but you wanted to liberate it all. You were finally ready to listen to your heart.

It was a composition to a beautiful song, one so loud it courses through your very being, awakening your nerves and causing your thoughts to explode into a frenzy. 

You wanted him here with you. Snuggling into you sharing longing looks and deprived touches. 

You wanted him to be open and push all of his fears away. 

You wanted him to realize that you were different now. Things were different and you would treat him so well. 

I need to talk to her. Yeah. 

Almost as if his brain and his phone were wired together you heard a ding go off right beside you. 

‘Hey, can we please talk?’

Your heart sank because in your experience that sentence never led to a good thing. Never. 

‘Sure. When are you free?’

‘Right now.’

‘Hobi and Jimin are home. You can come over if you don’t mind some company or we can meet somewhere else?’

‘Come to my apartment in 5.’ 

‘K.’ 

Jittery was the exact word you’d use to describe Jungkook at soon as he opened up the door to his apartment and stepped aside to allow you in. The length of his finger had a slight tremble and his eyes were blown wide. 

You hadn’t really seen him like that in a while. 

“Jungkook, are you okay?” 

He nodded, “yeah, just a bit stressed with everything going on plus I’ve had like five energy drinks in the past five hours.” 

“What’s got you so stressed?” you asked standing before him, you felt hesitant to sit anymore. I mean you did have his dick in your mouth like less than twenty-four hours ago but you didn’t want to push it and you certainly did not want to invade his personal space. 

“Too many things, honestly. School for one. .” he ran a hand through his hair taking a brief second to determine exactly what he wanted to reveal to you, “work study plus now I'll be co-coaching the swim team as well.” 

“You’re headstrong Jungkook,” you offered, “I’m sure you’ll do amazingly even with this hectic schedule you are so determined to take on.” 

“I went to this psychic once and she told me my ambition to take on everything would lead to my demise,” he chuckled airily, “I’m beginning to think she was right.” 

“Psychics are bullshit. Who says you can’t have cake and chocolate ice cream too?” 

“Right,” you hadn’t noticed before but casual was Jungkook’s new staple. Seems like he has drifted away from his black boots and particularly dark toned outfits. You liked that version of him quite a lot, although you hadn’t really shown it in the past. However, you also liked the version of him standing before you where he maximized comfort and migrated to mostly tones of white, gray and nudes, “of course you would make that comparison. Cake and chocolate ice cream have always been your go to dessert combination.” 

“Isn’t it everyones?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugged, “for example my nutritionist might say it’s too sugary.” 

“Well, fuck the psychic and that nutritionist of yours too,” Jungkook’s laugh is just like the rest of him—inviting, sweet and genuine. When he laughs, it’s addictive enough to make you want to make him laugh again and again, just so you can hear that sound and see her giggly smile as much as possible, “forreal, but also just remember you gotta just live in the moment, don't worry about tomorrow or even yesterday. Today is all that matters.” 

“I definitely agree but funny enough I kinda wanted to talk to you about what happened last night..” He cleared his throat, “on the couch of your apartment. Well you and Hobi’s apartment.” 

You looked down at your dusty white converse before finding his eyes once again, “what exactly did you want to talk about?” 

Go on. Go on. 

“We’re good right? Are you okay after—well, you know,” was he worried about hurting you after you suck him off yesterday? God, you could suck his dick all over again and then once more after that or preferably until your jaw locks and your knees dissipate. Though, that still wouldn’t be enough to extinguish the burning desire in the pit of your stomach. 

“What exactly are you asking?” you took a step towards him, “shouldn’t I be the one making sure we’re good especially considering all of our history together?” 

“Forget that.” 

Don’t bring it up, please. Just forget about it. 

“I can’t Jungkook,” you sighed, “I wanna make sure we’re okay and I wanna apologize for what happened. Please, let me do it. I don’t want you to resent me for the rest of your life because of it.” 

“There’s no need to. I forgave you long ago. The cold stares and snarky comments were always just a front,” he confessed, “I forgave you the second after everything went down.” 

“And I thank you for that but I still need to do this. I need to get it off my chest,” you reached for his hand; the warmth of his hold settled your nerves and finally you were able to go on, “Please, forgive me Jungkook. For going through with that dare and kissing you in the bathroom. I did want to kiss you but I should’ve never let them take a picture; it only made things worse for you. I’m sorry for not comforting you after your fight with my idiot ex, although I wanted to. I was scared but you were too and it was my fault so I should’ve been there. I’m sorry for ghosting you after we spent the night together at Yeonjun’s party—my parents, they gave me an ultimatum and I was just a high school senior still very dependent on them and I know that’s not an excuse but I managed to make it one back then. Most of all I’m so fucking sorry for not reaching out to you sooner and making things right. I just hope it isn’t too late now.” 

His hands abandoned yours and instead he leaned over before cupping your face, “I told you already. I forgave you for everything a long time ago.” 

“I appreciate your kind heart and forgiving nature, Jungkook,” you leaned into his touch, closing your eyes in the process, “but still I needed you to know how truly sorry I am.”

“Please, stop apologizing,” he sighed, “the past is the past and you have no reason to be apologizing to me right now.” 

“You keep saying that but I did and I do,” Jungkook’s stare was comforting; his eyes felt like embers burning your skin under the sun rays shining bright during the mid-afternoon sun, “and I will continue to do so at any given minute. I need to make up for all of that lost time—every single minute; every hour I’ve let you slip through my fingers. You deserve to be treasured, loved and cherished for the rest of your days and I will do just that if you allow me to.” 

“What exactly are you asking me?” 

“I’m simply asking that we allow things to ride out and perhaps the tide might just take us somewhere beautiful.” 

He giggled, “do these sonnets just live in that pretty little head of yours?” 

“My head is more than just pretty,” you challenge. 

“I know that,” this is the giddiest you’ve ever seen Jungkook be. In recent times he had adopted a sort of hard shell, which he often wore like a shield but today as he leaned on his kitchen island with his head propped up on his palms he looked elated, “I just like the way you describe the potential of there being an. . us.”

“Do you like it enough to give things a chance? Maybe even go on a date?” the tremble in your extremities gave away just how truly nervous you felt, though you tried your best to hide it. You’d never asked anyone out before but for Jungkook you were willing to make the first move. 

She’s so poetic with her affinity for love. I like the way her eyes light up when she talks about us being together. 

“How about tomorrow?” 

“I’m free tomorrow.” 

The following day was a blur overshadowed by a nimbostratus cloud which swept in a vicious squall with gusts so powerful your room was left a literal mess as you spent hours prior to Jungkook picking up frantically looking for the perfect date outfit. 

Now, you sat in your little casual red dress in the passenger seat of the car Jungkook borrowed from his best friend. Your balmy sat atop your thighs and you tapped your fingers lightly on your heated skin. 

The night sky was beautiful—drowning with a million of bright stars and a moon so illuminating it spotlighted your path. Nightlife here roared with vibrancy and the sidewalks were congested with people bar hopping or looking for dinner spots among other things.  This scene had great capability in finally claiming your attention away from Jungkook and his sinful thoughts but it was hard. Every single image Jungkook painted within the beauty of his mind blasted in your head seemingly like a framed art piece in a gallery. Except, the only difference was that roaming around a museum was peaceful, whereas Jungkook's wandering thoughts made you quiver and sent glacial shivers down your spine. 

For the duration of the ten minute car ride he’s use the weapon known as his mind and managed to peel your clothes off, re-imagining the way your mouth moved on his cock, then, within seconds he painted a picture of what it would be like to fuck you against the hood of his car. You’d admit the depiction of you against the cold metal bumper with your dress hiked up to your waist, while he pounds into you relentlessly really was more than enough to ignite (with the man sitting behind the wheel; eyes hyper focused on the road ahead; and his tattooed knuckles gripping the steering wheel), about a million fantasies you wanted to fulfill with his assistance. 

But the urge to have the heat of his touch roam every inch of your body became abated when Jungkook parked his car and you found yourselves sitting across from each other in the red booth of a seafood restaurant on the pier. The incandescent bulb overhead did very little to irradiate the space between you and yet Jungkook still looked as radiant as ever. The muffled and incessant chatter of the patrons scattered throughout the establishment became similar to the buzzing of bumble bees and truly you weren’t really too sure you could make out conversations they engaged in. 

You were kind of nervous and although you’d hope it wasn’t too obvious you couldn’t help the way your eyes scanned the room and your body failed to comply with the simple order of sitting still. 

“You look beautiful tonight,” Jungkook sat up on the leather seat and looked off outside the glass window drinking in the vicious waves as they crashed against the golden shore. 

You look beautiful every single day. 

“Thank you,” you smiled, “I see your signature black boots have finally made a comeback,” you followed his eyes out to get a view of the roaring sea, “I thought you might’ve grown out of them.” 

This look—tonight was the epitome of teenage Jungkook core and you couldn’t help but savor the brief stroll down memory lane. Of course, back in high school you’d always had a tiny little crush on him and while you worked to get over it; that was not an issue today. You were gawking—practically drooling at how amazing his biceps looked under the sleeves of his white tee, his black jeans hugged his thick thighs and his hair was tied half up half down and of course those damned black boots. 

“They’re my secret weapon. I just keep them in the back of my closet for special occasions.” 

I also know they were always your favorite look on me. 

“In that case, I’m honored that a night with me is considered a special occasion enough to bring out the boots,” Jungkook finally turned towards you, his eyes shining bright like jewels even in the shitty lighting. 

“I figured it fit our little slice of history perfectly.” 

“Don’t tell me these were the exact ones you wore that day? 

“They are the exact same ones.” 

“I thought you would have gotten rid of them with everything that transpired,” you whispered; talking about the past still felt taboo. 

“I contemplated that many times,” he shrugged then proceeded in a timorous voice, “but I just couldn’t. There is an abundance of bad memories attached to them but the memory of my first kiss trumps all negatives.” 

“Your first kiss?” Your shock was evident and for a second you had to look around just to make sure you weren‘t too loud but the people around the two of you were too into their own conversations. They were oblivious to the little corner you and Jungkook occupied towards the back of the restaurant—in your own little world, “I-I was your first kiss?” 

He nodded before taking a small sip of his water. 

“Jungkook?” 

He looked at you, “what?” 

“Are you being one-hundred percent serious. . I was your first kiss?” 

Jungkook pressed his lips into a tight line causing his cheeks to become impaled by his chasmic dimples; then, he closed his eyes briefly before taking a deep breath, “I was a loser in high school. Of course, I was spared a few friends but in the ‘love’ department I was lacking severely so naturally no one was ever interested in pursuing anything romantic with me. Until, that afternoon when the girl I’d been crushing on finally walked up to me in the bathroom.” 

“If I could go back in time and embrace the feelings that I had for you, Jungkook just to tell you how I actually felt I’d do it in a heartbeat,” your heart beat rhythmically in your chest and quickly you began feeling fatigued as if your air supply would be cut off if you didn’t peel back every single one of your layers and confess exactly how you felt. 

“If I could go back in time and tell you what I actually felt despite the consequences I’d also do it in a heartbeat,” he murmured, taking your hands in his. 

“Good evening and welcome to Under the Sea, can I get you started on anything tonight?” the server approached. Her hair was tied up messily and she wore a black polo and black pants while carrying around a small notepad and pencil in her hand. She seemed friendly but a bit overwhelmed—though, you couldn’t really blame her, this place is leaning a whole lot towards chaos. 

“Yeah, we’re ready,” Jungkook said, a fib of course, the two of you had been too busy talking to scan the menu before she came over, “I’ll take the Cioppino. Anything looking appetizing to you?” 

“I think I’ll take the Paella.” 

“And for drinks?” she asked scribbling away on her notepad. 

“I’ll have a Coke.” 

“Same here,” the two of you handed back the menu, “thank you.”

“I’ll be right back with your drinks,” she smiled before walking off towards the kitchen. 

The rest of the night at Under the Sea was brief and while you and Jungkook indulged in small talk here and there the two of you were starving and more concerned about getting something in your stomach. After leaving the busy restaurant Jungkook led you in the opposite direction of the parking lot towards the small park across the street from the beach. Right under the live oak tree there was a blanket laid out with numerous flameless candles flickering their feeble light around the very spot. As you got closer you noticed the basket sitting next to the blanket on the grass and the rose petals scattered around. 

“Jungkook. .” You became stunned at the attention to detail of the man before you. Everything looked so beautiful, “you did this all? W-when did you even have the time to set this up?” 

“I set everything up before our date and I know some of the workers from the restaurant and asked them to check in every once in a while and bring our snacks out like five minutes ago so nothing would spoil.” 

“You prepared snacks for us?” 

“More like I cut-up some fruits.” 

“In that case I’m judging your knife skills.” 

“Not too harshly though,” he tittered softly and airily. It mimicked the comforting tunes of lullabies, “come one, let’s sit. I have some things lined up for us tonight.” 

You sat beside him on the velvet fabric, you folded your legs to your side and used one of the spare blankets to cover your lap. Before you there were two medium sized tabletop easels and a selection of paints and brushes. 

Jungkook removed the white button up he’d left unbuttoned and kept on the white wifebeater. For the first time you finally had a full view of his sleeve; on full display. The black traces filled in with colorful shades adorned every inch of his right arm all the way down to his wrist. You had the urge to reach out and trace every single pattern but you held back—you and Jungkook were good but this is the beginning stage; first you have to dip your toe in and test the waters. 

She’s staring at my arms. . Be calm. 

Don’t flex. . Don’t flex. 

Dammit. 

He flexed, reaching up to brush a stand of hair back and out of his face. 

You smiled, “so, what’s supposed to be our inspiration for painting tonight?” 

“Each other. You paint me and I’ll paint you.” 

“Jungkook, I’m a lousy painter,” you whined. 

“The point isn’t for it to be good,” Jungkook began brushing soft strokes on the canvas, “it’s about the creative process. . the ideas that your mind interprets into art.” 

“That’s easy for you to say,” you scoffed. 

“Art didn’t always come easy to me.” 

“How did you know this is what you wanted to do for the rest of your life?” you finally picked up a brush and squeezed a dash of paint on the wooden palette, allowing your hands to work freely—to create. 

“The first time I drew anything for others to see was in high school,” his eyes were gleaming with thoughts of reminisce, “Ms. Julie, reached out to me sophmore year, said she needed my help designing the yearbook cover for the seniors that year.” 

“I remember the cover that year,” Jungkook looked over at you and there was a layer of joy featured on his face, “it was absolutely beautiful and I also remember every single cover after that being just as amazing.” 

“Thank you,” his cheeks were a crisp crimson now, “I designed all of the year books every year after that as well. Actually, I still help Ms. Julie from time to time even now.” 

“That’s amazing. It’s truly a gift that your hands possess and I’m so glad we get to see what they create.” 

Jungkook stopped his movements all together, his gaze no longer set on the easel, instead he looked downward, his cheeks still burned bright, maybe a little more now than before and by the paced heaves of his chest he seemed to be calculating his every breath. 

“Thank thank you,” he stammered. 

“And just so you know I intend to shower you with compliments, so get used to it.” 

He beamed, “what about you?” 

“What about me?” 

“What are your passions?” 

You shrugged, “Hm, I was never really good at anything back in highschool and while I knew I had to do something. I had a really tough time figuring things out.” 

“But then. .” 

“Then, I did an internship at the daycare on campus the summer before classes started and I realized how much I love being around all of the kids,” you said, “and at that moment I automatically knew what my major would be, come the fall semester.” 

“Funny how life works right?” 

“One-hundred percent.” 

The cool draft of the expeditious night swept by softly allowing you to leave behind the once scorching afternoon. Right now, you became a resident in your very own slice of heaven and in your head the only people around for miles were you and Jungkook. For the past thirty minutes, the two of you haven’t crossed many words, you were too focused on contextualizing the perfect artwork—one that’ll remind him of you wherever he sees it. 

Now, you were not an artist by any means but you tried nevertheless. The best interpretation of him you could come up with was to depict the sheer contrast between the different versions of himself. 

The two were slightly different yet when meshed together working symbiotically to make Jungkook the perfect mixture of tranquil, mesmerizing and lulling all in one. 

Your canvas was split in two—one side you painted baby blue with music notes substituting the clouds in what would be the bright afternoon sky and and a lousy excuse for a guitar sitting on the bottom. This was the version of him that lived inside and the one only a few people got to see. His mysterious aura and great passion for music. Then, on the opposite side you painted a black background in combination with it there was an abundance of colorful art supplies scattered all throughout. This one represented what he chooses to show and what many saw on the outside on his day-to-day course. 

After some finishing touches you moved back on taking one last look at your work, “okay. . Here, I tried my best but it’s not your face. Just some things that remind me of you.” 

“Let’s see,” he hummed excitedly, waiting for you to turn the canvas around. 

“Be nice, okay?” 

“I will, I will.” 

When Jungkook was excited there were a lot of distinctive actions that communicated with his body and expressions. His eyes lit up like the explosions of fireworks on a summer night; his shoulders were raised up past his jawline and his cheeks burned bright. 

“It’s not good, okay,” you beamed at his cheerfulness; it was cute how thrilled he was. 

“It’s perfect,” he leaned closer to sneak a glance, “come on. Let me see.” 

“Fine,” turning the canvas around felt like an invasion of privacy, although everything on it was solely about him, it was still like a clear window into your soul and how you saw him. 

You’d never been this vulnerable before with anyone. Never. 

He scanned the explosion of colors sitting in-between your hands. Jungkook’s lips curved up while the corners of his eyes wrinkled in amusement. 

“This is amazing and absolutely the best depiction of everything I love.”

“Don’t lie to me, Professor Picasso.” 

“I don’t lie about art,” he reached for it and you placed it in his hands, “and this is a masterpiece.” 

You scoffed. 

“I’m serious,” he argued, “this is going up on my art wall. Front and center.” 

“This better be the only thing on your art wall,” you muttered. 

Jungkook finally grabbed his canvas holding it close to his chest. . Well, as close as he could due to the wet paint, “Here’s mine.” he still had not turned it around for you to see. 

“You know you actually have to turn it for me to take a look.” 

He chuckled, “I know but nervousness is contagious. . Just gimme one second.” He took a deep breath before slowly turning the canvas in your direction and there you were. Same facial features, hair style and red dress you had chosen for the night. The talent his fingers convey is jaw dropping. It is evident Jungkook is an amazing artist through and through. 

“Jungkook. .” You knew he was good; you’d seen the covers he had designed for the highschool yearbook back then, still, that didn’t prepare you for this in the slightest bit to see yourself from his point of view, “I don’t have an art wall but this will definitely be the beginning of one in my apartment.” 

He guffawed while passing his painting over. 

“I’m serious,” you continued, now closely examining his precise attention to detail. He got every single attribute down to the smallest scars and birthmarks, “your talent is impeccable. Just look at how amazing this is.  It’s actually not fair at all. I want mine back.” 

“No way! You can’t take back gifts you have already given away to someone.” 

“Yes, I can,” you argued, “especially if my gift looks like shit next to yours.” 

“It most definitely doesn’t. I already told you, I love it and it’s going up on my wall and there’s nothing you can do about it,” he leaned closer, placing a soft peck on your forehead and clutching the painting tight in his grasp. 

You groaned admitting defeat, “but I am expecting a lot more paintings from you.”

“Always.” 

Of course. As long as you’re beside me, and even if some day for some reason you aren’t, you’ll continue to be my muse forever. 

His muse. You love the sound of that. 

The sound of the pouring rain beat rhythmically on the glass window. For the next few hours your bed was your haven and Jungkook’s bare arms were your form of a warm blanket.

Although the clock on your night stand marked four o’clock, the day was as dark as night and as the sun refused to come out to play the dark nimbus clouds invaded the stretch of the expansive sky, refusing to allow even a single ray of light to illuminate your bedroom. 

The power had gone out but the two of you had lit up some candles in various locations of your room. You were both in your underwear, semi-sticky with a thin layer of sweat coating your entire body as a result of the air conditioner no longer being on. 

Even in the heat the two of you couldn’t untangle yourselves from each other. 

“We’ve been laying here in the heat for hours,” his fingers raked over your shoulder and down to the middle of your back. 

“There’s nowhere we can go to cool down for the day. I’m afraid these four walls are it for us today,” you complained. 

“And moving will only make us hotter.” 

“I think the two of us being tangled up like this is already making us hotter.” 

His hands tightened around your waist, “yet there’s nothing you can say to let me go.” 

“Then, it’s a good thing I don’t want you to let go,” you crossed your arms on his chest and laid your chin on them; looking up at him through your lashes taking in his figure as he laid back against the headboard. 

“Why are you looking up at me like that?” he asked though his eyes were still closed. 

“I just like having you. . here.” 

“In your room?” he asked. 

“In my life,” you confessed, “I guess I never thought we could make it here again.” 

“I had faith—hope. I knew that eventually we would get to talk and forgive each other.” 

Every fight and every bicker was a call to drive you closer to me. Immature I know, but it was all I could do and say to get close to you. 

“You didn’t do anything wrong to me, Jungkook,” you traced lines over his collarbones leaving before sparks of electricity; you felt as they traveled down to the tip of your finger, “if anything I was constantly praying you’d forgive me.” 

Forgiving you was the easiest thing I’ve ever done.  

“I walked away after Yeonjun’s party,” he caressed your cheeks with the pads to his finger, “that was my worst mistake and I knew exactly how it looked too; like I just hit it and quit it.” 

“You didn’t hit it and quit it, Jungkook,” you sighed, “I did that to us. I was the one who walked away from us. None of it was your fault.” 

“But I let you walk away. I didn’t fight for us.” 

“Hey,” you cradled his face in your hands, “I didn’t let you fight for us. This is on me.” 

But I never went searching for you. I just let you—walk away. The night you got up from that longue chair on the rooftop of Yeonjun’s house I thought that was our beginning; I just never thought it could be our end instead. 

“It’s on us,” Jungkook leaned into your touch, softly moving his cheek against your palm, “but we can only work to overcome our past. . Together.” 

You held onto the gold link looped around his neck, clutching it in order to pull him towards you until finally your faces were just an inch away from each other, “Together.” 

“Kiss me, please,” his breath fanned across your lips as you continued guiding him closer and closer to you—his eyes were closed once again and he completely succumbed into this trance of your navigation. His lips were warm and velvet; parting slowly before they landed on yours. You became lost in the way your heartbeat continued beating faster and faster. The soft ballad of the steady thrumming tickled your ears and along with the taste of his mint lips on yours you began feeling a bit faint. 

The room was still hot, the power was still out and you still sat on Jungkook’s lap but now you became exhilarated riding off the feelings in the way your body connected. It wasn’t just the kiss—no, it was also the way his electric touch began tracing the lines outlining your body, traveling down between your breasts, then down your stomach and up your sides until they rested on your hips. Jungkook’s fingers teasingly toyed around with the elastic waistband of your panties, rubbing small circles on your lower back. 

You were breathless pulling away from that kiss but in between breaths you managed to pull his forehead against yours before allowing yourself to speak one again, “Jungkook, can I tell you something?” 

He nodded. 

“I-I want you, Jungkook,” your brain felt like it melted right into mush and there were no coherent thoughts in your head that didn’t revolve around Jungkook. 

You were dickmatized. Yes, you were. 

“You have me.” 

“I want all of you.” 

“Take it all,” he whispered. 

Do anything you want to me. Do everything you want to me. Do whatever you want with me. I am yours for the taking. 

You felt the beads of sweat strolling down your body accompanying the slight tremble in your every movement. Still, you moved with the facade of faux confidence and soon you found yourself straddling his thigh, sinking down against his heated and sticky skin. Indulging in a steady pace you began moving back and forth against his thigh all while holding onto his shoulder for support. Jungkook’s head fell back against the wall but his hands never left your waist guiding your movements to the quickened beat of desperation. 

“You look so pretty riding my thigh. You know that?” he smirked; his cheeks were the tone of wine. Jungkook bit his lip to maintain focus on the sloppy motion he continued to maneuver. 

You hummed entirely consumed by that heated feeling in between your thighs—entranced in the way his soft whimpers only guided you towards that very place where you could finally reach out and touch the stars. 

“Fuck—fuck, keep going, yeah?” you stammered never ever wanting him to stop being the root of your every desire. 

What gave her the impression that I’d stop? This. . Us, it just feels so right. I will never be able to live in a reality where the image of her getting off on my thigh could ever cease—not after today. Not ever. 

“Just-just let me guide you, baby girl,” his voice was low and husk followed by a series of unpaced breaths. 

“Take me there, Jungkook,” you moaned. 

Oh, fuck—I’ll take you there baby. I’ll take you there. I’ll take you there. 

His fingers dug into you while his fingernails left behind marks of deep crescents traced on your skin. The guidance of his movements was near animalistic and the fabric of your panties was now sticking to your juices and there was nothing you craved more than the desirous urge to unravel under the trance of Jungkook’s ministrations. 

Back and forth; back and forth you moved reaching higher and higher as your fingertips brushed touch the points of the luminous star and before you knew your teeth sunk into his shoulders suppressing your moans and your hips no longer followed the rhythm he previously set and you were finally swimming in the night sky—so high; so satiated. 

“Oh,” you breathed, “that-that was amazing.” 

“You tired yet?” he asked. 

“Not at all.” 

Jungkook hugged your waist and flipped the two of you over; your bodies pressing together heatedly against the ocean of sheets, breathing heavily as your lips pressed together once again. His hands quickly dipped under the waistband of your panties reaching for your inner thigh, until you felt him press the pads of his fingers in between your folds smearing the combination of your juices. After  his torturous teasing he slipped two fingers pumping them in and out of you quickly. 

“Oh, baby,” he finally pulled away from your lips, allowing a string of whimpers to slip past your swollen lips, “you feel so fucking good.” 

“Jungkook, faster please,” you rocked your hips to match the beat of his fingers moving in and out of you. 

“Is that what you want?” he hummed, “tell me. You want to cum at the mercy of my fingers?” 

“Yes-yes. That’s what I want please.” 

Jungkook laid beside you on the bed with his face buried in the nape of your neck. His hand still worked diligently to get you off as he whispered soft praises against the shell of your ears. You were in your very own depiction of utopia—euphoric with stimulation of endorphins. 

“I’m close-close, Jungkook,” you dragged your nails down his back, likely leaving streaks of red trails behind as he quickened his pace. Meanwhile, you felt your body temperature skyrocket and the knot in the pit of your stomach tightened until it could not become any tighter and for the second time that night you felt how the storm passed and once again you floated throughout the night sky. 

While Jungkook strove to read your body like the ink inscripted into the pages of his favorite book; the absence of his wandering hands made you feel empty—as if you couldn’t really breathe. At all. 

“What happened, baby girl?” his lips traveled downwards on your body while his hands finally worked to unclasp your bra, (two orgasms later you couldn’t believe you still had all your undergarments on), and now your breasts became the forefront of his attack and leisurely he took each nipple in between his teeth smirking at your gasps and shudders as a result of your sensitivity, “are you the one who can’t stand the rule of not touching today?” 

“Ah—,” he lightly bit the side of your left breast before kissing it better, “the only thing I hate right now is that your dick isn’t in me right now.” 

He laughed; the booming sounds struck just like the raucous cries of thunder just outside your windows, “what makes you think I’m gonna fuck you tonight?” 

“I don’t know. Maybe the fact that I can feel how hard you are against my leg.” 

“What? This?” Jungkook sat-up on the bed working to remove his boxers. When he finally did he discarded them to the pool of clothes somewhere on your bedroom floor while his cock sat before you like it had been a few days prior.  Jungkook laid back down in front of you, placed a tender kiss on your forehead before he moved closer towards you, lifting your leg up and allowing it to rest on his hip. Once positioned he began rubbing the head of his cock against your clothed slit —especially focusing on the sensitive bud. 

He traced the lines of your lips over and over until you couldn’t take it any longer and tears began filling your eyes and you chanted hastely begging him to fuck you right into the mattress. 

“Please, Jungkook,” a needy whimpered rolled off your tongue, “please fuck me, please fuck me please.” 

Jungkook was now on top of you and he reached down, moving your soaked panties to the side before he lined himself at your entrance. You closed your eyes anticipating that moment when his cock would slip in and stretch you out so good you’d feel full beyond relief. And just as you imagined he slowly pushed himself past your entrance, your mouth fell agape at the sensation of his cock invading you inch by inch. 

The feeling was immeasurable and better than anything you’d ever felt before. 

“Will you be okay if I move?” he asked almost out of breath. 

You nodded frantically.

“Just let me know if you wanna stop at any point, okay?” he remained still. 

You nodded once again. 

Jungkook moved cautiously, setting a lento rhythm—almost as if he thought you’d break if he fucked into you too hard. His tattooed hand brushed your heated cheeks as he continued his agonizingly slow thrusts. The room was still silent for the most part except now in company to the pitter-patter of the pouring rain the two of you contributed your very own duet composed of his guttural groans mixed and your shaky pants. 

His lips left sweet kisses behind on both of your cheeks, then your nose, your chin and lastly your forehead. 

She looks so fucking beautiful like this; all sweaty and aroused just for me. Fucked out just for me. I’m so lucky. So lucky. 

“Jungkook?” you tucked your bottom lip under your top row of teeth. 

“Yes?” 

“Deeper, please,” you whined, “not faster but harder. I want to feel you deep in me.” 

Deeper? Fuck. She’s gonna be the death of me. I swear she is. I’ll fuck you just how you’d like baby girl. I’ll fuck you right. 

“Okay—okay,” he stammered. 

Jungkook stopped his movements and pulled out momentarily as he adjusted his position in between your legs. He grabbed both of them and wrapped them around his waist before pushing past your entrance once again, and yes, it felt just as jaw dropping as the first time. Jungkook’s pace remained lento except now whenever he was about to push back into you he made sure to lunge himself deeper causing the sounds of his skin slapping against yours to echo within the walls of your room. 

“Oh, Jungkoook,” you let out a drawn-out moan, chanting his name repeatedly, “right-right there, oh, Jungkooook. Right there. Please don’t stop.” 

He continued penetrating you just as you wanted until once again, for the third time that night, you were on the very edge of the planet. You could see the exact place where the sky met the earth. Trotting towards the phenom you felt the way your heartbeat quickened and finally as you approached you began clenching around him until you witnessed an explosion of stars behind your eyes; a feeling so blissful your knuckles turned white as you clutched the sheets underneath you in your grasp. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. .” he hissed pulling out quickly. 

“What’s wrong?” you gasp at the feeling of emptiness now substituted by a ravenous void. 

“I almost finished inside of you and we forgot to wear a condom,” his cock was held tightly in his hand.

You swiped your tongue on your lips, “would you like some help with that?” 

“That is not how today is supposed to go,” he mocked. 

“Fine,” you shrug, “but I was going to offer my body as an alternative.” Jungkook’s  pupils become dilated, your words obviously peeking his interest, “come on my face, Jungkook.” 

“Are you sure?” 

“Positive.” 

Jungkook towered over you on the bed, kneeling right beside you on the bed—by now you were spent, too tired to do anything but lay there and admire the way his head hung back as he worked to find his release. The design of his tattoos followed suit beginning all the way from his shoulder blade, to his flexed and veiny bicep all the way down to the tight clasp of his finger around his shaft moving hastily from base to tip. 

“Look at you, baby girl. All eager for me to come on you,” Jungkook said through clenched teeth, “you’re so naughty for me. All for me.” 

“All for you, Jungkook,” you repeated, “I can’t wait to feel just how warm you’ll be on my face. Come on, baby. ” 

Your mantra of praises rolled off your tongue semi-automatically but you were needy to feel his seed on you so you continued using your words to aid him in the process of jerking off. He continued moving his hand up and down his length until the tip became painted white with drops of pre-come. 

“I’m almost—” he cried out; his guttural whimpers sent waves of glacial shivers interlacing with the ridges of your spine. 

“Yes, Jungkook. Be a good boy.” 

“I am a good boy,” his labored breathing came out in puffs, “I am. .” 

“Then, come on baby. I’m waiting.” 

Jungkook was immersed in what you knew was likely the build-up of his approaching release. His chest inflated and deflated rapidly, while the muscles in his stomach tightened accentuating his already sculpted physique while his cheeks turned a bright scarlet. 

“I’m coming!” He cried out. 

The spurts of his white semen painted your face as he worked himself to the very last drop. Even in his moment of release Jungkook was careful enough to aim towards your mouth and chin and you licked everything within reach of your tongue. 

“Let me get a wet rag and I’ll clean you up okay?” Jungkook stood from the bed and placed a kiss on your forehead before walking towards your bedroom door and opening it up. 

A few seconds went by and suddenly you heard a loud shriek and a plethora of muffled words which sounded a lot like your best friend, Hoseok. Not a lot of time went by before you saw Jungkook enter the room frantically before slamming the door shut and leaning against the wooden surface. 

“Hoseok’s home?” you laughed. 

“And Jimin.” 

“And they saw?” 

“Mhm.” 

“Please remind me to never leave this room naked again.”

“Yes! Please remind him!” Hoseok yelled from just outside the door. 

A bursting titter erupted between the two of you and Jungkook climbed back into bed with you before he helped you wipe off the mess he’d made on your body, then laid down beside you. 

“Can I ask you something?” You began snuggling deeper into his embrace. 

“Yes?.” 

“Will you stay here tonight?” You asked barely above a whisper—barely audible. 

Jungkook rested his chin on the crook of your neck, “of course, I’ll stay with you tonight.” 

There was no place you’d rather be than embraced in the solace of Jungkook’s warmth. 

Tonight, tomorrow, and forever after that. 

I’ll always stay with you.

-

-

-

an: you know what im about to say right? ignore the smut scene ~if you must~ it literally took me like two weeks to write because my brain wasn’t working >.<

i literally started working on this like a week before seven released…. *gulps*

#bts #bts smut #bts angst #bts reactions #bts imagines #jungkook angst #jungkook smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you #bts jungkook smut #bts jungkook au #jungkook imagine #jungkook drabble #mentions of literally every member + txt’s yeonjun

[simpforsoap]

Monsterous Lovers- Part Two

Part 1 and Part 3

Hybrids weren’t uncommon. They appeared sometime during the 1300’s. No one was really sure where they originated from, not even the hybrids seemed to know, but as time went on their population started to grow. At first humans and hybrids lived amongst each other, those were known as the pre-war times. By 1401, there was an attack. The story has been told and reshaped over the years to fit the narrative of who tells it, humans saying that hybrids attacked their village while hybrids saying that humans attacked their kind first. No one knows what happened exact, but the war broke out in the spring of 1401, lasting nearly 105 years. For the time period, humans were unable to defend themselves against the hybrids that attacked and as a result the human population dropped significantly, into the low millions. Hybrids were not in any better of shape, their own population having dwindled due to the war and lack of neccesities that were needed for them to strive. In 1506 the Living Peace Treaty was signed, an agreement for hybrids and humans to stop attacking one another and allow their populations to regrow. There was a tense period of time after the treaty where humans and hybrids seemed to be at one anothers throats, but there was no more wars. 

As time went on, history notes there was always a separation between humans and hybrids, but the lined seemed to blur the more time carried on. During the 1920’s, when humans seemed to be at war with one another, hybrids took a stand and joined forces with humans alike. Lives were lost between both species but there was a mutual agreement that humans and hybrids could coexist with one another in peace. By the turn of the 21st century, you could walk the streets and see humans and hybrids living amongst each other, even some in relationships and whatnot.

Price and them were no strangers to the judgmental comments and borderline xenophobic tendencies some humans still had towards them. They had worked their way up in the military, creating their own little pack with one another throughout their years of working together. Despite their differences from one another, they worked like a well oiled machine. Perhaps it was all the endless deadly missions that never seemed to stop the killing of both humans and hybrids alike, or perhaps it was the lack of comfort they found when coming back to the base after those missions, but the four of them each longed for a sense of normality. To come back from a mission, not to the base where they couldn’t separate work from living, but rather a place where they could truly call it home.

That’s what Price believed as he stood in the driveway of your home; that this was a potential home to him and his boys. The entire drive to the property, Soap couldn’t stop ranting and raving about the photos he seen online with the ad you had posted and even though they were each wanting him to be quiet in their own way, it was a good thing Soap had seemed to love it so much just based on photos. Because in person? This home was immaculate and seemed like it was exactly what Price had pictured as their home. 

The house was ranch styled, a large porch with a covered entry way. A porch swing snestled to the right of the door, Price feeling like it was an idea spot to sit and enjoy a cigar while overlooking the front of the property. The 20 acres of woods surrounding the house were thick, Soap wanting nothing more than to shift into his wolf and take off into the woods for a run. The house was a little more secluded than they had thought, but it was perfect. And they hadn’t even seen the inside of it! 

As they toured the outside of the house first, Ghost insisting to ensure it was secure as he told you, Price felt more relaxed. There was a little garden on the south side of the home, something he could clearly picture you kneeling in and tending to during the summer months. You lead them around the house, showing off the small gazebo in the back yard, little lantern lights hanging around the inside. The four of them followed as you walked the small stone path to the back patio, Price taking note of the lack of patio furniture before leading them inside. 

“I know it’s kind of messy right now, I was in the process of cleaning up the house to make room when I had to leave.” You gave them a small smile, pushing some empty boxes against the wall so they wouldn’t trip on them. 

Soap just smiled with a small laugh, naturally throwing an arm around your shoulders, ignoring the glare Price gave him, “nah, it’s fine lassie. Though, I gotta ask, you really live here alone?”

You took a tiny breath through your nose, needing to steady yourself for the question you knew you’d have to answer, “yes, I do. I did have…someone living with me before but there was a..um..accident of sorts and I took over the house.” 

Ghost could pick up the anxious look in your eye from a mile away, the mask hiding his facial expressions from you, but you could see the way his eyes narrowed at your words, “anyways, the house itself is a 5 bed 5 bath home. Allows you some space to do what you please with. Shared living room and kitchen of course, but I can designate some spots in the kitchen for the each of you so you can have your own spot to put stuff in. The rooms are upstairs, do you want me to show you?”

“Yes, please love.” Gaz gave a smile at you, easing the tension from your shoulders a bit. You could tell both Gaz and Soap seemed to give you the natural ability to find a sense of familiarity in them. 

You showed them the upstairs of the home, the four of them taking their time in examining each room, taking mental notes on where the each of them could fit in and what they wanted to do with the space. You ended the tour in the kitchen, standing with your hands in your hoodie pocket. 

“Well, what do you think? I know it’s probably not super luxurious, but it’s a comfortable home and I’m not one to get into much of your business.” You give them a smile, watching the way the four of them seemed to have having a silent conversation with one another through their eyes. 

Right as you were beginning to worry they would decline the offer, Price spoke up, “we believe this is exactly what we are looking for. Would you like rent from all of us or just the overall 2500?”

“Oh heavens no, just the 2500. I know it’s a bit on the pricey side but--” before you could say more, Price cut you off with a smal wave of his hand. 

“Nonsense, we make more than enough to cover that. Now, we are active military as Soap here told you in the messages so we are in and out of the house a lot for missions, but we will always communicate with you on the duration of our leave will be.” Price crossed his arms, your eyes flicking to the way his scaled forearms seemed to glint in the light. 

You took a small breath to steady yourself before nodding, “of course. I have the lease written for a year at the moment, but we can extend it if you’d like to after that.” 

Price nodded, “of course. Now, I suppose I shall bring it up first. We are hybrids, each of us are our own beings. I, myself, am a dragon. Soap here is a werewolf, Gaz is a Harpy and Ghost is a wraith. Is that something you are absolutely sure you’re comfortable with? There’s no offense if you’re not, we understand there can be a bit of..troubles sometimes.”

You give a small smile nodding, “yes, I am completely fine with that. I do want to finish cleaning things up around here, but tomorrow morning if you’d like you can move your stuff into the rooms.”

You took a mental note of what Price said, wanting to search it up later so you knew just what exactly you were getting yourself into.

“Perfect. We will be here at 9:00 sharp then, love.” Price smiled and you shook his hand your hand feeling hot at his touch. 

---------

As Price drove back to the base, the car ride was mostly silent. Soap was practically buzzing in his seat, desperate to say something to fill the silence. Price glanced at him through the rearview mirror before letting a breath out, “speak your mind, Johnny.”

Soap wasted no time, leaning forward in his seat with a large smile on his face, “we just hit the jackpot! She’s absolutely stunning and that house? Perfect for us in every way…even with the scent of strawberries and mint..she smells devine.”

Gaz shook his head at Soap’s words, though the smile and slight ruffle to his feathers gave it away, “you’re hopeless, Soap.” 

“What? I’m not wrong, and you know it! The lass smells delicious…nearly want to sink my teeth into her and make her mine.” Soaps words make Price shift in his seat, glaring at him through the mirror.

“Soap. Watch it. You will do no such thing to her unless she gives approval. We will be within her home we are to respect that.” Price’s tone was firm, his eyes narrowed as he focused back on the road. 

Ghost was silent in the passenger seat, his arms crossed and eyes narrowed, but Soap’s words seemed to spark something in his mind, “for a human she’s awfully trusting of us…seems stupid if you ask me…inviting a pack of hybrids into your home without asking anything regarding that nature.”

Gaz immediately moved on the defense, his feathers ruffled a bit, “hey now. I think she’s a sweetheart..Seems to be one of the humans that doesn’t seem to mind the fact we’re hybrids…maybe she thought it was rude to ask anything on it.”

Ghost looked out the window of the car, silent as he thought over Gaz’s words. It took a few moments before he spoke up, voice a tad softer than it was before, “There’s something off about her…I think we should look into her background when we get back to base.”

The other three were silent for a moment. They couldn’t deny you had a strange story as to why you were suddenly renting the rooms out, but they felt it was something of your story to tell. Price spoke up after a moment, “we can look into a background, only to ensure there is no danger into this house. But it is her story to tell us, I will not look further than is required to.”

They seemed to be in an agreement, to find out a tiny bit about your background and make sure you truly were who you said you were, but they would wait until you were comfortable to tell your story to them on why you lived alone so suddenly.

--------------

Tag List: @zoruxsblog @dontfollowmepleaseitsannoying

#poly 141 x reader #john price x reader #task force 141 x reader #soap cod #cod x reader #ghost cod #task force 141 #tf 141 x reader #john price x you #ghost x you #cod smut #kyle gaz garrick #gaz x reader #johnny mactavish x reader #john soap mactavish #simon riley #simon riley x reader #simon ghost riley #simon riley x you #simon ghost x reader

[burntoutdaydreamer]

3 Steps to Improve Your Characters and Make Them Three-Dimensional

So I don’t have a process for creating/developing characters (to me the process is intuitive to the point where I wouldn’t even know how to explain it), but I do have a process for revising characters that just… fall flat, for whatever reason. 

I like to get to know my characters by throwing them into a bunch of different situations and seeing how they react, but sometimes that’s not enough. In these cases I need to go back to the drawing board and figure out how to make them not feel like a cardboard caricature of the role I need them to fill. Here’s the process I use, and it involves three key questions to understand what makes your character tick.

1) What is this character’s fundamental belief- either about the world or themself?

2) Where does this belief come from?

3) How does this belief hinder them, and are they capable of growing past it?

Alright, here’s what the process looks like in action. 

Let’s say I have a character I need to flesh out for my story.

Character A is a middle aged coffee shop owner and the protagonist of her story. The central conflict of the story revolves around trying to save the family run coffee shop she inherited from her father when he passed away, which has recently fallen on hard times.

What is this character's fundamental belief?

Character A believes that the world is an inherently good and fair place. She believes that good is always rewarded and bad is always punished, even if the timing isn't always perfect. As such, she strives to live a virtuous life, putting as much good into the world as she possibly can. While she understands that even good people can face hard times, she believes that in the long term, if things don't work out, it'll be because she didn't put in the work needed to turn things around.

Where does this belief come from?

Character A grew up in a solidly middle class household with good parents that treated her well- rewarding her for good work, and fairly punishing her for misdeeds. Her parents gave her everything she needed, but also expected her to work hard for the things she wanted. She also had the experience of watching her father build a successful business through hard work and by building strong connections with the people in town. If we want to push this further, we could also say that this belief was reaffirmed by watching her brother ruin his own life, squandering all his money and goodwill with those around him on failed get-rich-quick-schemes and outright scams that landed him in jail.

How does this belief hinder them, and are they capable of growing past it?

Let's say that Character A recently hired a barista who seems perfect for the job. Strapped for help, she gets him started right away before getting the results of his background check. When the results come in, she finds out that he is on probation and was recently released from jail for a violent crime. Shocked, she fires him. Believing that people who end up in jail always deserve it, she can't see past her initial prejudices. As a result, her coffee shop suffers from the loss of her new star barista.

Some time goes on, and Character A encounters the barista again, and learns more about the circumstances that landed him in jail (maybe he was falsely convicted, maybe he was battling psychosis, maybe the violent act was done to prevent a loved one- anything that makes her question her initial assumptions). He then confesses that he is struggling to provide for himself and his family because no one will hire him because of his criminal record. Character A comes to realize that her belief isn't completely true, and that the world isn't entirely fair. Though it takes a lot of inner work to do so, including coming to terms with her privilege, she eventually accepts this, and revises her beliefs. She decides that even though the world isn't fair, people have the responsibility to make it fair.

She decides to re-hire the barista she fired. After doing everything she can to make things right with him, she proposes an idea she wants his help with. Together, they transform her family business into a joint coffee shop and community rehabilitation center. In addition to selling coffee, they also launch a program to provide resources to recently incarcerated individuals looking to reenter society. They'll host weekly events on job interview coaching, alcoholics anonymous, motivational speeches, group therapy, opportunities to connect with open-minded employers, and more. Their promotion of this new program enables them to secure funding from local patrons and public grants, and customers are willing to pay for more expensive coffee with the knowledge that that money will be put to good use.

Additionally, if we want to go with the brother in jail backstory, we could have this ending be an opportunity for her to reconnect with him and maybe even repair their relationship as she gets to see him in a new light.

Main Takeaways

And there you have it!

You can use this process on any character- protagonist, antagonist, side character, etc. By grounding your character's motivations and development in their beliefs, you can easily introduce depth and internal conflict while keeping everything connected to the themes and plot driving your story.

Depending on your character's role or your story's plot, the belief can be wide reaching and complex (such as a philosophy or ideology), or specific and personal (such as having to do with their self-esteem). Either way, it should always be tied to their personal experiences or observations. This doesn't necessarily mean a tragic backstory. It could be, but I encourage you not to make this your default way of creating character depth. A mundane but grounded and sincere motivation will always be more compelling than cheap, dark shock factor.

Generally, protagonists with happy endings and villains with successful redemption arcs are capable of moving past their beliefs, while tragic heroes and antagonists aren't, and this failure is usually the source of their downfall. Keep in mind that even if characters do move past their old beliefs, it will always be a difficult thing to do. It will require them to confront their own mistakes, biases, and emotional wounds, and require both internal and external work in order to fix whatever their old beliefs have damaged.

Hopefully this guide will help you approach your characters from a different perspective. Feel free to share any insights.

Happy writing y'all!

#creative writing #writing #writers of tumblr #writers on tumblr #writing community #novel writing #writerscommunity #writing advice #writing problems #on writing #writing characters #character development #writing help #fiction writing #writing tips #writing thoughts #long post #really long post

[riality-check]

TW: past verbal and emotional abuse

The Harrington house is a game of perfection.

Steve has known this fact for as long as he can remember. There is a right way, a narrow way, a rigid way, of doing things. Numbers dictate all: rebounds, points, and assists for basketball, new PRs in freestyle and backstroke for swim. The numbers themselves do not matter; all that does is that they grow and shrink appropriately.

Infinite growth is not sustainable; not for Steve's stats, not for Richard's stocks. Both of them strive for it anyway.

The house must be clean. The parties can't be busted. The people of Hawkins will only say good things about the Harrington family. Gloria strives for these things, day in and day out.

The Harrington house is also a game of Perfection.

Steve hated that game growing up. The one with the little yellow pieces and the blue board. He was never able to get all the pieces in the right spot before the board spit them all back out.

It made a ticking noise, like a time bomb. Steve doesn't know when he started associating that sound with his parents.

It fits. It fits almost too well. They're fine, at least for a little while. The ticking starts quiet, then grows louder and louder until everything blows up.

The thing is, in Perfection, that the board blows up even if you put all the pieces in the right spots in time. The thing is, in the Harrington house, that everything blows up even if Steve does everything right.

The ticking lasts for days sometimes, weeks others. It's impossible, random, and impossibly random.

The only consistent thing is the board blowing up. And when that happens, so does the shouting.

The Party thinks that Tommy and Carol taught Steve to be cruel. That they're the ones who taught him how to bare his fangs and spit venom. That once he left them, the rage left him.

He's okay with letting them think that. It's easier than explaining that Richard and Gloria are the ones who taught him how to snap and shout, how to tear holes in other people with a few well-spoken barbs.

When Steve thinks of his parents, he thinks of fighting. He thinks of his father calling him useless and his mother calling him an idiot. He thinks of his mother calling his father dirt and his father calling his mother a bitch.

There are never any apologies. "I'm sorry" is never said in the Harrington house, even when the board gets reset.

They say "I got you pizza for dinner." "I saw this at the store and thought of you." "Do you want to come with me to get gas?"

And with that, the ticking starts up again.

Horrible things are said when the board blows up. Steve says horrible things when the board blows up. He's called his father an asshole and his mother self-absorbed and apologized without any apology at all.

He cleaned the pool instead.

Steve doesn't want to the board to blow up in the middle of the Munson trailer. It's why he's keeping his mouth shut while Eddie yells at him.

"What the hell, Stevie?" Eddie shouts, arms flying. "I told you that you can’t do that!"

“You told me you don’t want me to,” Steve says, staying calm and measured.

Calm and measured. Not blowing up. Steve isn’t going to snap or shout or bitch. He isn’t.

“Fucking semantics!”

“They were saying-”

“I don’t care what they were saying!” Eddie roars. “I don’t give a shit what they say about me!”

It’s true. Wayne calls Eddie “Teflon,” says that nothing sticks to him, least of all anyone’s opinion. Steve knows that Eddie doesn’t care about what most people in Hawkins think about him.

But he cares very much about what the people who care about him think.

Steve can say a whole lot of things right now. He’s angry, physically biting his tongue to ground himself. He can say a whole lot of things to cut Eddie to the bone, to end the argument and then some.

But he won’t.

Love is knowing how to hurt someone and choosing not to. It’s using a knife to split an apple to share instead of to cut skin to ribbons.

Steve can’t trust himself not to slash Eddie open. He says awful things when everything goes to hell like this, snaps back hard when snapped at first, operates purely on instinct.

He doesn’t want to hurt Eddie, so he keeps his mouth shut.

“I care that you could have gotten hurt when you swung at those assholes,” Eddie continues. “I care that I wasn’t there with you when you defended yourself. I care that you won’t let me take a look at your hands and make sure they’re alright.”

Steve squeezes the knuckles of this right hand in his left. It stings, but he’s fine. Nothing broken. He knows from experience

“Stop it, you’re hurting yourself,” Eddie barks.

Steve lets go of his hands, lets them hang loosely at his sides.

“So, what the hell, sweetheart?” Eddie asks, still loud, still snappish.

A variety of terrible answers surges to the front of Steve’s mind. Eddie’s biggest insecurities, the things he’s only told Steve when he thought he was asleep. Ways to wipe the anger off his face and replace it with stuff easier to manage: shock, hurt, sadness. Things he would say if he didn’t particularly like Eddie, if he were still in high school, if he were still in his parents’ house.

Steve doesn’t say anything. He keeps the knife in its drawer. He closes his eyes tight and breathes in once, then again.

“Hey,” Eddie says, softer.

Steve opens his eyes to find him a step closer, hands up in surrender.

“I’m sorry,” Eddie says.

Oh.

Well.

Steve doesn’t know what to do with that.

He’s said it before. Of course he has. He knows the words, knows that he needed to say them to Dustin and Robin and Max, and he has. He’s stepped too far with jokes and forgot about some things and missed some things they’ve said.

But he’s never yelled at them. They’ve never yelled at him.

This is not how this is supposed to go. Eddie isn’t supposed to apologize. He’s supposed to clean Steve up or make him dinner or invite him along to go grocery shopping.

And Steve was supposed to snap back.

“It’s okay,” he says because that’s what he’s supposed to say, yeah?

Eddie shakes his head. “It’s not. I shouldn’t have yelled at you.”

“It was bound to happen.”

Eddie stares at him, big doe eyes shining, like he has five heads. It makes Steve want to put his bloody hands behind his back, make him shrink.

He swears he can hear ticking, but the board just reset. Didn’t it?

“What?” Eddie asks.

Steve shrugs. “It’s okay.”

“It’s not. I got scared, but that doesn’t mean I get to yell at you. That’s not okay.”

What does Eddie get to do, if not yell?

I deserve it, Steve thinks, but he’s smart enough to know that saying that out loud will just lead to another fight.

There’s been barely any time to put the pieces back.

Steve doesn’t get it. But, he figures he’s always been a little slow on the uptake, so he can watch. Observe. Figure it out later on his own. He’s pretty good at that.

“Okay,” Steve says.

“Okay?”

“Yeah,” he says, and he holds his hands out for Eddie to take.

He’s dragged along to the sink, where Eddie rinses the cuts out with cool water before bandaging them up with the remnants of a box of Band-Aids from the bathroom. When they’re dry and finished, he presses a kiss to each knuckle, feather light.

“I’m sorry,” he says again, looking at Steve very seriously.

“Me, too,” Steve says, voice a little hoarse. “I’m sorry.”

It feels good to say. It feels good to mean.

Standing there in the kitchen of a trailer in Forest Hills, looking at the mismatched furniture and half-full ashtrays of the living room, holding hands with his boyfriend formerly accused of murder and apologizing for the first time and meaning it, Steve feels like he can finally breathe.

The ticking has finally stopped, and silence sounds so sweet.

#ria writes #steddie #steddie ficlet #st #st ficlet #stranger things #stranger things ficlet #steve harrington #eddie munson #angst #fluff #happy ending #tw verbal abuse #(it’s in the past) #idk what else to tag this #i’m tired #anyways it’s projection hours

[fatuismooches]

What are some habits that reader picks up from the Harbingers? Like what stuff do they begin to copy after being with them for so long :)

Imagine the Harbingers noticing that you picked up some of their quirks and habits.

Pierro notices how you start to stay up until abysmal hours of the night to complete whatever you have to. He does not approve of this at all and tries to get you to stop, even going as far as to have agents try to escort you to the bedroom. But there’s not much he can do when you say he does the exact same thing, and you won’t stop unless he goes to bed at the same time as you. So, Pierro has made somewhat of a compromise with you - the two of you work in the same office now. As much as he loves it, it is a bit of a distraction when you get bored with your work, and saunter over to him to drape your arms around him.

Capitano notices how you pick up his leadership skills. He is a well-respected Harbinger whom many look up to, and well, you’re just kind of there. You’re just his little lovely partner that the Fatui bow their heads to out of respect for your husband. After all, you’re nothing really special compared to Capitano’s exceptionality. But, The Captain is an observant man, and he does not fail to see your new quirks, that is suspiciously similar to his. The way you go around to the camps and just casually chat with the soldiers, always greeting them with a pleasant smile and story - it seems to greatly boost morale. Now, they’re bowing their heads out of respect for you.

Dottore notices how you copy the way he walks. Your hands are crossed professionally behind your back, a self-assured smirk present on your face. Your voice starts to build up with confidence and punctuated remarks. Your strides slowly start to become more confident and your quick wit starts to bring an impressed, maniacal grin to his face. He finds the way you copy him in this manner rather endearing - the idea of you being a mini him is quite entertaining to him. Dottore enjoys the possibility of people viewing you to be just as terrifying as him a great amount, so he definitely encourages it.

Columbina notices how you start to hum like her. Your voice pales in comparison to the lovely melody of hers, yet the way it comes so naturally to Columbina makes you want to try it as well. You don’t do it around her, of course, since you are far too embarrassed to ever show her. But it all goes out the window as she is adept at sneaking up on you, literally hovering over your shoulder as you have no idea she’s there. She hasn’t told you that she knows yet, she believes that if you know, you’ll stop, and she doesn’t want that to happen. If only you could do it around her someday, the crooning of your voice would surely send her into a deep sleep.

Arlecchino notices how you start to pick up on her poker face. She is a bit surprised at first when someone cracks a joke at you yet you just stare at them. At first, she thinks you’re maybe having a bad day, but you’re back to smiling quickly. When you explain to her you’ve been practicing her facial technique, she lets out a small chuckle. Secretly, she worries a bit - she doesn’t want to be the cause of somehow depleting your emotions. But you reassure her of course, in fact, the skill of keeping a straight face is quite useful, especially in situations where you’re trying your best not to burst out laughing.

Pulcinella (platonic!) notices how you start to copy some of his positive mentality. Your young age has cast a negative outlook on the world, rolling your eyes and scoffing at many things. His old age has allowed him to see everything - the good and the bad - making him have the aptitude to hold both happiness and sadness for the world. Pulcinella has seen many people like you, and always strives to change their point of view. Sometimes it works, sometimes it doesn’t. So when you start to become even the slightest more optimistic, copying word for word his advice and sharing it with others, he couldn’t be prouder of you. 

Scaramouche notices how you pick up his rude and snide comments. It’s not quite as frequent as he does it, but when you throw in a sarcastic remark or two, he can’t help but smirk and even laugh at the other person. Often times he joins in if the other person tries to snap back; his sharp tongue won’t anything hold back as he tells it how it is. He loves it - he’s the kind of person who roots for you in the background as you completely demolish someone, even if they don’t deserve it. He always thought you needed to bite back at people more instead of letting them walk all over you, so this is perfect for him.

Sandrone notices how to start to fix up stuff around her laboratory. She and her robots tend to keep the area tidy to avoid any accidents, especially after you entered the picture. Sandrone is a neat person in general and likes to keep her space organized, so you can often see her on her robot, dusting the higher-up places. You know she is a busy person, so you’d rather not see her spend her time cleaning. So you decided to take up the chore yourself. Certainly, your lover did not expect to see you nearly breaking your back to reach the lights, but she is definitely grateful and touched. She may or may not be flustered if you decide to wear an outfit fit for the task.

La Signora notices how you copy her fashion sense. You were never one to care much about fashion - you were rather a simple person who preferred simple clothes. But, it seems Signora, being the glamorous lady she is, has inspired you to put some more effort into your appearance. Surely, wearing some jewelry wouldn’t hurt, right? Adding some bling and extra lace here would look good too, maybe. Of course, Signora absolutely adores it - she has an entire wardrobe planned out and organized for you, filled with gorgeous and designer outfits that she even tailored to your tastes. She takes great pride in her appearance and would be happy to help you feel the same way.

Pantalone notices how you start to get more greedy of him. It is no surprise to anyone how possessive he is of his belongings, and that greed extends to you as well. He loves to be around you, and he loves it when others see you with him, at balls, parties, outings, everything - it’s silently saying that you are his. But when you start showing that same energy? He is so whipped and entranced. The way you protectively latch onto his arm and make direct eye contact with others, fighting the urge to stick out your tongue? Pantalone finds it so cute and even amusing; do you really think that he’d be interested in anyone besides you? His most prized treasure?

Childe notices how you start to become more motivated and determined to accomplish your goals. It is not a secret to anyone how dedicated he is to becoming stronger, as he has no shame in pursuing strong opponents relentlessly. His steadfast nature can’t help but have you inspired and energetic to follow your own dreams. Of course, Childe is wholly ecstatic and excited for you - he goes all in with the support! He’s rather glad that you are taking matters into your own hands, and that he was able to inspire that change. If your goal is to improve your battle prowess too, well, Childe would be a great supporter and helper for that. 

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #dottore x reader #capitano x reader #pantalone x reader #childe x reader #scaramouche x reader #pierro x reader #columbina x reader #arlecchino x reader #la signora x reader #sandrone x reader #il dottore x reader #fatui harbingers x reader #fatui x reader #fatui harbingers #capitano genshin #dottore genshin #pantalone genshin

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Counting the Minutes

Pairing: Michael Gavey (Saltburn) x f!reader Warnings: Dirty talk, masturbation, phone sex. Word count: ~1k

Summary: Separated for the Christmas break, her and Michael have to get creative.

Author's note: A little addition to The Golden Ratio, though can also be read as a standalone piece. Day twelve of the Smuffmas prompts - "promise and phone sex". No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

She nestles beneath the duvet, clicking through the contacts on her Nokia until she reaches Michael’s name. A faint smile tugs at her lips as her finger hovers over the call button, she can’t wait to speak to him.

They have been inseparable since the night that Oliver ditched him. They brought out the best in each other. Michael lit a fire underneath her that made her want to study harder, to strive for perfection in all things. In turn, she softened him up and taught him not to see the world through such a harsh lens. 

Their relationship had become serious enough that they had both chosen to spend their reading week together, instead of going home like the vast majority of people at their college had.

Now the term was over, and Christmas had beckoned them both home; Michael back to his mum, and her back to her dad. It’s odd not to see him every day, and though they’d stayed in touch on MSN Messenger, nothing compares to sitting with their legs entwined as they discuss their notes for their upcoming tutorials.

It’s only been a week and she misses the way he rests his chin against his hand when he’s deep in thought, how the intensity of his unblinking, blue eyed stare causes her skin to grow hot, and the smell of Imperial Leather soap and old books that she inhales when she rests her face in the crook of his neck.

Holding the phone to her ear, it rings once, twice, three times before he answers.

“Hello, you.”

His voice gives her butterflies. It’s the sound she’d attribute to how it feels to run your fingertips against plush velvet.

“Hi,” she says back with a coy smile. God, she wishes she could see him.

“How long can you talk for?” He asks.

“I put credit on my phone yesterday, ten pounds, so should be good for a while.”

“One hundred and sixty six point seven hours.”

She huffs a laugh. Of course his mind wanders to the maths of it.

“You think we could talk for that long?” 

“Hmm,” he muses, “I’m sure we could find a way to pass the time.”

“Like we did during reading week?” She asks softly, her fingers drawing lazy circles against the cotton of her bedsheets.

“Can’t really do that over the phone.”

“Have you ever had phone sex before?”

She hears him suck in a harsh breath before he replies. “What do you think?”

It causes her to giggle. Of course he hasn’t.

“Would you like to try it?” She holds the phone tighter to her ear, a lazy grin upon her lips.

“What does it entail?”

“Well,” she begins, switching her mobile from one ear to the other, and snuggling further down into the bed. “We describe what we’d like to do to each other while we touch ourselves.”

“One thousand, two hundred and fifty.”

“What?”

“On average, I can make you orgasm in about eight minutes. If we run through all of your phone credit then that’s how many times I could make you come.”

“Michael!” She gasps, feeling her insides flutter at the thought. “I don’t think that would be physically possible. I’ll settle for just the one today.”

He huffs a soft laugh, the sound breathy through the receiver. “Yes, I suppose that’s a bit impractical. Alright then, you start.”

“I wish you here right now,” she purrs seductively. “I want to push my hand up your t-shirt and run my fingers against that little trail of hair that leads all the way down your stomach, before I wrap them around your cock.”

His breathing grows heavier and she can hear the faint rustle of clothing in the background. She bites her lip, her own hand snaking beneath the duvet and into the waistband of her knickers.

“I miss the way you feel,” he tells her, voice shaky, “how tightly you grip me when I first push inside of you. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to that sensation. You’re so wet, so warm…”

She can hear the slick sound of his hand pumping over his cock, the sound sends arousal pooling between her legs and she circles her pearl in earnest, the added wetness aiding her ministrations. She hadn’t expected him to focus on the sensation of physical touch quite so much, but Michael is pragmatic after all, and his innovative approach excites her.

“Mmmm,” she moans quietly, “I want you to do that thing where you grab my hips to pull me back against you as you fuck me, it feels so good.”

A broken whimper escapes him, and there’s a brief moment of just his ragged breathing before he speaks again.

“The way your thighs tighten against my waist drives me mad. I swear I can still feel you there when I close my eyes, see the way your tits bounce– fuck!”

She whines, circling her bud faster, the coil in her gut tightening. “Wanna slide my hands down to your arse, push you in as deep as you’ll go, watch how your eyes screw shut as you come inside me.”

He grunts. “Wish I could come inside of you so badly. I need to feel you clenching around me, hear the pretty sounds you make as I fill you up.”

Her hips jerk involuntarily against her hand, and she knows she’s close. It’s been a week since he’s touched her and his filthy words have sent her unravelling much faster than she anticipated.

“I’m close,” she pants.

“M–me too,” he huffs back. “I’m gonna fuck you so hard the moment we get back to college.”

“Oh god–” Her response is cut off by her pleasured cry, as she falls apart, her walls spasming around emptiness as her thighs tremble.

A grunt and heavy breathing on the other end of the line lets her know that Michael has reached his end too. There’s nothing but the sound of their shared gasps for air, as they both recover.

“Do you promise?” She finally asks. “To fuck me hard when we get back to college?”

“Tell you what, let’s go back a day early and we can spend an entire day doing just that.”

She giggles excitedly, rolling onto her side. “I’ll be counting the minutes until then.”

#michael gavey x you #ewan mitchell #michael gavey smut #michael gavey x y/n #michael gavey #michael gavey saltburn #michael gavey imagine #saltburn michael gavey #michael gavey x reader #michael gavey fan fiction #michael gavey fanfiction #michael gavey fanfic #michael gavey fan fic #saltburn #saltburn fanfiction #saltburn fan fiction #saltburn fan fic #saltburn fanfic