#not even going to admit how many hours i spent trying to color these

[blackbonnette]

Right now I just want to do what makes Ed happy. And what makes Ed happy? (2/3)

OUR FLAG MEANS DEATH ✦ 1x09 Act of Grace

#our flag means death #ofmd #ofmdedit #blackbonnet #gentlebeard #ed x stede #ofmd 1x09 #not even going to admit how many hours i spent trying to color these #and in the process staring at the kiss... like... so many hours. #im living in this moment still #* #*gifs #what makes ed happy

[jewelleria]

I don’t usually talk about politics on here, if ever. But it’s been almost six months since the conflict in the Middle East flared up again, and I’m finally ready to start. Here are some of my thoughts.

I say ‘flared up’ because this has happened before and it’ll happen again. Because, even though what's currently going on is absolutely unprecedented, those of us who live in this part of the world are used to it. Let that sink in: we are used to this. And we shouldn’t have to be. 

But I use that term for another reason: I don't want to accidentally call it the wrong thing lest I come under fire for being a genocidal maniac or a terrorist or a propaganda machine, etc., etc.—so let’s just call it ‘the war’ or ‘the conflict.’ Because that’s what it is. Doesn’t matter which side you’re on, who you love, or who you hate. 

This post will, in all likelihood, sit in my drafts forever. If it does get posted, it certainly won’t be on my main, because I'm scared of being harassed (spoiler: she posted it on her main). I hate admitting that, but honestly? I’m fucking terrified. 

I also feel like in order for anything I say on here (i.e. the hellscape of the internet) to be taken seriously, I have to somehow prove that a) I’m “educated” enough to talk about the conflict, and b) that my opinion lines up with what has been deemed the correct one. So, tedious and unnecessary though it is, I will tell you about my experience, because I have a feeling most of the people reading this post are not nearly as close to what’s happening as I am.

How do I explain where I live without actually explaining where I live? How do I say “I live in the Red Zone of international conflicts” without saying what I actually think? How do I convey the fear that grips me when I try to decide between saying “I live in Palestine” and “I live in Israel”? I don't really know. But I do know that names are important. I also know that, due to the various clickbaity monikers ascribed to the conflict, it would probably just be easier to point to a map. 

I haven't always lived in the Middle East. I've lived in various places along America’s east coast, and traveled all over the world. But in short, I now live somewhere inside the crudely-drawn purple circle. 

If you know anything about these borders you probably blanched a bit in sympathy, or maybe condolence. But in truth, it’s a shockingly normal existence. I don't feel like I've lived through the shifting of international relations or a war or anything. I just kind of feel like I did when COVID hit, that dull sameness as I wondered if this would be the only world-altering event to shape my life, or if there would be more. 

I've been told that, in order for my brain to process all the horrific details of the past six months, there needs to be some element of cognitive dissonance—that falling into a sort of dissociative mindset is the only way to not go insane under the weight of it all. I think in some ways that’s true. I have been terrifyingly close to bus stop shootings when my commute wasn’t over; I have felt my apartment building shake with the reverberations of a missile strike; I have spent hours in underground shelters waiting for air raid sirens to stop. 

But. I have also gone grocery shopping, and skipped class, and stayed up too late watching TV, and fed the cats on the street corner, and cried over a boy, and got myself AirPods just because, and taken out the trash, and done laundry on a delicate cycle, and bought overpriced lattes one too many days a week. I have looked at pretty things and taken out my phone because, despite it all, I still think that life is too short not to freeze the small moments. 

So I'd say, all things considered, I live an incredibly privileged life—compared, of course, to those suffering in Gaza—one filled with sunsets and over-sweetened knafeh and every different color of sand. One that allows me to throw myself into a fandom-induced hyperfixation (or, alternatively, escape method) as I sit on the couch and crack open my laptop to write the next chapter of the fic I'm working on. 

But there are bits of not-normalness that wheedle their way through the cracks. I pretend these moments are avoidable, even if they’re not. 

They look like this: reading the news and seeing another idiotic, careless choice on Netanyahu’s part and groaning into my morning coffee. Watching Palestinian and Jewish children’s needless suffering posted on Instagram reels and feeling helpless. Opening my Tumblr DMs to find a message telling me to exterminate myself for reblogging a post that only seems like it’s about the war if you squint and tilt your head sideways. 

These moments look like all the tiny ways I am reminded that I'm living in a post-October seventh world, where hearing a car backfire makes me jump out of my skin and the sound of a suitcase on pavement makes me look up at the sky and search for the war planes. They look like the heavy grief that is, and also isn’t, mine. 

Here's the thing, though. I know you’re wondering when the ball will drop and my true opinion will be revealed. I know you’re waiting for me to reveal what demographic I'm a part of so that you, dear reader, can neatly slap a label on my head and sort me into some oversimplified category that lets you continue to think you understand this war. 

No one wants to sit and ruminate on the difficult questions, the ones that make you wonder if maybe you’ve been tinkered with by the propaganda machine, if you might need to go back on what you’ve said or change your mind. We all strive for our perception of complicated issues to be a comfortable one.

But I know that no matter what I do, there will always be assumptions. So, while I shudder to reveal this information online, I think that maybe my most significant contribution to this meta-discussion spanning every facet of the internet is this: 

I am a Jew. 

Or, alternatively, I am: Jewish, יהודית, يَهُودِيٌّ, etc. Point is, I come from Jews. And, like any given person, I am a product of generation after generation of love. 

I'm not going to take time to explain my heritage to you, or to prove that before all the expulsions and pogroms, there was an origin point. If you don’t believe that, perhaps it’s less of a factual problem and more of an ‘I don’t give weight to the beliefs of indigenous people’ problem. But, in case you want to spend time uselessly refuting this tiny point in a larger argument, you can inspect the photos below (it’s just a small chunk of my DNA test results). Alternatively, you can remember that interrogating someone in an attempt to make their indigeneity match your arbitrary criteria is generally not seen as good manners. 

Now, let’s go back to thathateful message (read: poorly disguised death threat) I received in my Tumblr DMs. I think it was like two or three weeks ago. I had recently gained a new follower whose blog’s primary focus was the fandom I contribute to, so I followed them back. I saw in my notes that they were going through my posts and liking them—as one does when gaining a new mutual. Yippee! 

Then they sent me this: 

I tried to explain that hate speech is not a way to go about participating in political discourse, but the person had already blocked me immediately after sending that message. Then, assured by the fact that I surely would never see them complaining about me on their blog (because, as I said, they blocked me), they posted a shouting rant accusing me of sympathizing with colonizing settlers and declaring me a “racist Zionist fuck.” Oh, the wonders of incognito tabs.

Where this person drew these conclusions after reading my (reblogged) post about antisemitism…. I'm not actually sure. But I greatly sympathize with them, and hope that they weren’t too personally offended by my desire to not die. 

For a while I contemplated this experience in my righteous anger, and tried to figure out a way to message this person. I wanted to explain that a) seeing a post about being Jewish and choosing to harass the creator about Israel is literally the definition of antisemitism and b) that sending a hateful DM and refusing to be held accountable is just childish and immature. But I gave up soon after—because, honestly, I knew it wasn’t worth my effort or energy. And I knew that I wouldn't be able to change their mind. 

But I still remember staring at that rather unfortunate meme, accompanied by an all-caps message demanding for me to Free Palestine, and thinking: the post didn’t even have any buzzwords. I remember the swoop of dread and guilt and fear. I remember wondering why this kind of antisemitism felt worse, in that moment, than the kind that leaves bodies in its wake. 

I remember thinking, I don’t have the power to free anyone.

I remember thinking, I’m so fucking tired. 

And before you tell me that this conflict isn’t about religion—let me ask you some questions. Why is it that Israel is even called Israel? (Here’s why.) Why do Jews even want it? (Here’s why.) But also, if you actually read the charters of Islamist terrorist organizations like ISIS, Hamas, and Hezbollah (among others), they equate the modern state of Israel with the Jewish people, and they use the two entities interchangeably. So of course this conflict is religious. It’s never been anything but that.

But I do wonder, when faced with those who deny this fact: how do I prove, through an endless slew of what-about-isms and victim blaming, that I too am hurting? How do I show that empathy is dialectical, that I can care deeply for Palestinians and Gazans while also grieving my own people? 

There's this thing that humans do, when we’re frustrated about politics and need to howl our opinions about it into the void until we feel better. We find like-minded souls, usually our friends and neighbors, and fret about the state of the world to each other until we’ve gone around in a satisfactory amount of circles. But these conversations never truly accomplish anything. They’re just a substitute, a stand-in catharsis, for what we really wish we could do: find someone who embodies the spirit of every Jew-hating internet troll, every ignorant justifier of terrorism, and scream ourselves hoarse at them until we change their mind.

But, of course, minds cannot be changed when they are determined to live in a state of irrational dislike. In Judaism, this way of thinking has a name: שנאת חינם (sinat hinam), or baseless hatred. It's a parasite with no definite cure, and it makes people bend over backwards to justify things like the massacre on October seventh, simply because the blame always needs to be placed on the Jews. 

So when a Jew is faced with this unsolvable problem, there is only one response to be had, only one feeling to be felt: anger. And we are angry. Carrying around rage with nowhere to put it is exhausting. It's like a weight at the base of our neck that pushes down on our spine, bending it until we will inevitably snap under the pressure. I’m still waiting to break, even now.

I wish I could explain to someone who needs to hear it that terrorism against Israelis happens every single day here, and that we are never more than one degree of separation away from the brutal slaughter of a friend, lover, parent, sibling. I wish it would be enough to say that the majority of Israelis (which includes Arab-Israeli citizens who have the exact same rights as Jewish-Israelis) wish for peace every day without ever having seen what it looks like. 

I wish I could show the world that Israel was founded as a socialist state, that it was built on communal values and born from a cluster of kibbutzim (small farming communities based on collective responsibility), and that what it is now isn’t what its people stand for. 

I wish the world could open their eyes to what we Israelis have seen since the beginning: that Hamas is the enemy, Hamas is the one starving Palestinians and denying them aid, Hamas is the one who keeps rejecting ceasefire terms and denying their citizens basic human rights. Hamas is the governing body of Gaza, not Israel. Hamas is responsible for the wellbeing of the Palestinian people. And Hamas are the ones who are more determined to murder Jews—over and over and over again, in the most animalistic ways possible—than to look inwards and see the suffering they’ve inflicted on their own people. I wish it was easier to see that.

But the wishing, the asking how can people be so blind, is never enough. I can never just say, I promise I don't want war. 

When I bear witness to this baseless hatred, I think of the victims of October seventh. I think of the women and girls who were raped and then murdered, forever unable to tell their stories. I think of the hostages, trapped underneath Gaza in dark tunnels, wondering if anyone will come for them. I think of Ori Ansbacher, of Ezra Schwartz, of Eyal, Gilad, and Naftali, of Lucy, Rina, and Maia Dee, of the Paley boys, of Ari Fuld and of Nachshon Wachsman. I think of all the innocent blood spilled because of terror-fueled hatred and the virus of antisemitism. I think of all the thousands of people who were brutally murdered in Israel, Jews and Muslims and Christians and humans, who will never see peace.

My ties to this land are knotted a thousand times over. Even when I leave, a part of me is left behind, waiting for me to claim it when I return. But when I see the grit it takes to live through this pain, when I see the suffering that paints the world the color of blood, I look to the heavens and I wonder why. 

I ask God: is it worth all this? He doesn't answer. So I am the one, in the end, to answer my own question. I say, it has to be. 

Feel free to send any genuine, respectful, and clarifying questions you may have to my inbox!

EDIT: just coming on here to say that I'm really touched & grateful for the love on this post. When I wrote it, I felt hopeless; I logged off of Tumblr for Shabbat, dreading the moment I would turn off my phone to find more hate in my inbox. Granted, I did find some, and responding to it was exhausting, but it wasn’t all hate. I read every kind reblog and comment, and the love was so much louder. Thank you, thank you, thank you. 🤍

Source Reading

The Whispered in Gaza Project by The Center for Peace Communications

Why Jews Cannot Stop Shaking Right Now by Dara Horn

Hamas Kidnapped My Father for Refusing to Be Their Puppet by Ala Mohammed Mushtaha

I Hope Someone Somewhere Is Being Kind to My Boy by Rachel Goldberg

The Struggle for Black Freedom Has Nothing to Do with Israel by Coleman Hughes

Israel Can Defend Itself and Uphold Its Values by The New York Times Editorial Board

There Is a Jewish Hope for Palestinian Liberation. It Must Survive by Peter Beinart

The Long Wait of the Hostages’ Families by Ruth Margalit

“By Any Means Necessary”: Hamas, Iran, and the Left by Armin Navabi

When People Tell You Who They Are, Believe Them by Bari Weiss

Hunger in Gaza: Blame Hamas, Not Israel by Yvette Miller

Benjamin Netanyahu Is Israel’s Worst Prime Minister Ever by Anshel Pfeffer

What Palestinians Really Think of Hamas by Amaney A. Jamal and Michael Robbins

The Decolonization Narrative Is Dangerous and False by Simon Sebag Montefiore

Understanding Hamas’s Genocidal Ideology by Bruce Hoffman

The Wisdom of Hamas by Matti Friedman

How the UN Discriminates Against Israel by Dina Rovner

This Muslim Israeli Woman Is the Future of the Middle East by The Free Press

Why Are Feminists Silent on Rape and Murder? by Bari Weiss

#palestine #israel hamas war #israel hamas conflict #hamas #on war #essay writing #personal essay #rant post #stop terrorism #israel #writing #palestinian lives matter #jewish lives matter #jewish and proud #jewish identity #jewish muslim solidarity #on grief #on religion #antisemitism #anti zionisim #purim 2024 #chag purim sameach #judaism #israeli palestinian conflict #am yisrael chai #kvetching #jumblr #mims on middle east #המצב

[ambrosiagoldfish]

Lucifer, Charlie, and alastor with a Kitsune reader ? :0

Hazbin Hotel x Kitsune! Reader

(Lucifer, Charlie, and Alastor)

Safe for all Audiences!

Warnings: None! Gn! Reader! Reader being a mischievous Little Kitsune, chaos ensues.

Request Box: Open

Word count: 1101

A/n: Hi! thank you for the request! This isn’t terribly long so I hopes that’s ok!

Now, I wasn’t entirely sure if you want this to be Romantic or Platonic so I kept it pretty vague so it could be interpreted as either! I hope that’s ok, if not just send another request and I’ll fix it!!

But either way I hope you enjoy it because i enjoyed writing it!! <3

Proofread once soooo… if there are any errors please ignore them/inform me 😭

Lucifer

When you first arrived in hell, he wasnt the most impressed by you. Not in a mean way or anything, just that he’s lived for a long time and has met a plethora of different types of beings so he’s pretty used to meeting interesting looking people.

But even he has to admit that he was intrigued with you. Your 9 well-groomed and lush tails that quietly followed you with every step and the fur of your fox ears looked soft to the touch. The thing that he seemed to notice most though was the whole eloquent aura you had with every movement you did. Smooth, almost tranquil.

You being a Kitsune did cause you to stir up a bit of… let's say trouble. Your fox nature of course caused you to have a personality that leaned a bit mischievously. You weren’t malicious by any means, you judt had a very… unique taste in humor and how you wish to spend your time. Pranks, stealing random objects that interest you, and going places that you probably should be. This gets you in trouble with many a folk but it’s really not something you can’t handle.

On one of these occasions. you took interest in his custom made duckys. First off, it was something new to you, 2nd, you had never seen someone be this interested in ducks as him, so when you randomly stumbled into the big man of hell’s workspace that’s filled to the brim of them, each with unique features and colorful designs, needless to say you were quite interested.

He was a bit embarrassed at first when you found it but seeing that you genuinely were into them he literally couldnt stop showing them off. Going into almost ecrusiating detail of each one's design choices. (This man is so autistic-coded. I love him so much)

He even made a custom one for you which he gave you when both met again. It was a basic duck design, except it had 9 tail feathers and wore fox ears that clearly mimicked your own, including your fur pattern. He then spent an hour going through each of its features with you. To say you were grateful would be an understatement.

“And if you pull this feather back… Bubbles! Oh-ho, and that's not all! If you take this and-”

Charlie

Definitely more impressed than her father would be. Of course she has been in hell literally all her life and has seen some weird, wacky, hot and cool people but it still doesnt not surprise her when she finds interesting people. When you first met her she was really interested in you, asking a bunch of questions and It was almost scary how enthusuatsic about it she got.

She then started talking about her brand new “Hazbin Hotel.” It was something to reform sinners so that they had a chance at redemption. Charlie seemed so excited to tell you about it that you honestly did have the heart to tell her that you didn’t exactly believe a soul could be redeemed.

Now depending on if you’re hellborn or a sinner, things can go a bit differently. If youre hellborn she’ll offer you a job at the hotel, well to say a job would be a lie, you didn’t really have 1 given task to do, you just helped out when needed. if you’re a sinner, you of course get to stay in a room at the hotel. Whether you actually go along and try to get better is up to you. It was a free place to sleep, so hey? Might as well. Either way though, Charlie always sees the good in people, hellborn or not. So she would obviously want to help you grow as a person even if you are hellborn.

The michevues aspects of your personality tends to cause some problems for the hotel at times. Fights happen, lessons have ended prematurely, and you may have accidentally caused a bar fight between Angel and Sir Pentious. It really was an accident, how was you supposed to know “borrowing” one of Pentious’ shiny tools would cause such a ruckus?

Charlie lectored you about taking others' stuff and made you apologize.

As much as Charlie doesn’t want to admit it (at least before episode 5) she’s a lot like her dad. That also expands to their likeness for your fur. She really can’t take her eyes away from it, it just looks so soft and neat… and soft… eventually you catch her staring at your tails and you just laugh and ask her if she wants to touch them.

“What!? Pfft, noooo, no no no. hehe…he…unless you’re offering…”

Alastor

Considering Alastor died in the 20’s I don’t think he knows what a Kitsune is exactly. Which is probably why he’s the most interesting in you at first glance (you could have also met when he first manifested in hell, which would only further his intrigue)

Either way, your personalities seemed to mesh well for the most part. You both stir up trouble wherever you go (Alastor a bit more… maliciously than you but still)

Whether you’re hellborn or a sinner is irrelevant to how he treats you, though he has tried making a deal with you every once and a while. You always decline but he thinks it’s always worth a shot to ask.

Alastor is aware of your devious behavior and knows the best way to handle it if it ever happens to come his way. He knows that you’re harmless and not a threat which is exactly why he has taken a liking to you. You’re someone who can only really help his cause and nothing bad can really come out of you being around.

Pranks though, are the one thing that Alastor can’t seem to sway you out of doing. He can’t even begin to count the amount of times he’s been at the front end of them. Of course he always sees through them and they’ve never once worked, but boy are you sure determined to one day get him.

This was one such case where you attempted to steal and hide his radio cane while he was asleep, only for him to sneak up shadow form and scare you half to double death

“You’re going to have to try harder than that to pull one past me, my, oh-so dear, exquisitely fluffy friend”

#Hazbin hotel #hazbin #hazbin hotel lucifer #hazbin lucifer #hazbin hotel charlie #hazbin charlie #hazbin hotel alastor #hazbin alastor #lucifer x reader #alastor x reader #Charlie Morningstar x reader #Lucifer Morningstar x reader #x reader #x male reader #character x male reader #fanfic #character x reader #x female reader #fluff #x gn reader #gn reader #hazbin hotel x reader

[indieyuugure]

Wait,how much time have spent in the story from Chapter 1 to 12?!

I remembered Leo said 2k12 Leo was infected by krang just six hours ago

From chapter 1 to chapter 12 is roughly 20 hours.

Their birthday party is obviously sometime at night. Leo says that they had pizza for dinner and cake, so their party probably was an hour or so. While they’re out on the roof tops you can clearly see it’s nighttime, maybe 10 or 11pm. A few hours after that, let’s say 1 am, they discover the Kraang and fall into the Rise Universe.

Leo states that it’s probably around the same time there as back home, so they only will have about 4-5 hours or so until sunrise. They meet the Rise turtles, and after some pizza end up crashing in one of their room for the rest of the night. Well, accept for Leo and Raph, who probably only slept for 20 to 30 minutes before going off on their next adventure.

You can see in this page that the sun is rising from the East. It’s probably around 5-6am when the harbor get’s blown up.

While that’s happening, Mikey and Donnie even say that they haven’t been sleeping for that long, and that it’s about morning.

Later when 12 April and Casey meet Rise Leo, she explains basically everything I just said. “They disappeared sometime last night after their birthday party. We thought they had gone home, but this morning we discovered that they hadn’t been back since we last saw them.”

A short while after that, the Donnies meet up with Casey Leo and April and you can see in this cut to a little blurb of Draxum that it’s the insufferably early hour of 9am.

There aren’t many clues to infer durning Leo and Raph’s fight, but as the author I will tell you that it’s 10am when they get their mystic weapons and another hour until they get to the abandoned subway station. Their fight doesn’t actually last that long, maybe 10 to 15mins, but it’s very action packed. A little while after that and the others come. So we’ll say it’s maybe 11 ish when it cuts to them on the train headed for Splinter April and Casey’s location.

Splinter states that they’ve been waiting over and hour for them to come. They were most likely supposed to meet there at the same time and Rise Donnie admits that in addition to poor scheduling, they also had a few “technical difficulties” (12 Raph and Leo). By now it’s 1 or 2 in the afternoon, and they’re plotting their next move.

When Donnie is talking with Splinter about Leo’s issues, he estimates that the pills he gives Splinter will last a few hours, so you assume that the entirety of the TCRI debacle was 3 to 4 hours.

A little after that, you can see in this panel that the sun is up in the sky, though not quite perfectly, it’s early afternoon and there’s a storm brewing. (If I’m totally honest I fudged the sun a little because it looks cooler like this)

Once again, there are very few clues as to the amount of time that has passed during their adventure in TCRI. And even afterwards it’s hard to tell because of the heavy storm. I will just say that they spend roughly 4 hours there. This is including the time it took to get there, the time inside, and the time after when the building explodes and 12 Mikey is gone.

Chapter 10: Retribution spans approximately and hour and a half. The bit you mentioned is in Retribution

Rise Leo is clueing you in on how long it’s been since 12 Leo was under Krang’s control, and also flabbergasted by the fact that it’s been such a short amount of time and Leo is already on his feet trying to save the day. Of course he doesn’t know about Healing Hands, hence why he takes Leo’s exhaustion as he’s in pain.

After the Leos get’s back with Mikey, it’s sunset, around 7pm. It’s not super obvious in Retribution, but by the beginning of Hell on Earth the sky is washed in sunset colors and you can see the sun setting in the west in the backgrounds.

The Crystal Shards is basically just a continuation of of Hell on Earth with not that much time passing between them.

I don’t usually make a ton of references to the exact time in my stories, but there are lots of ways you can sort of guess what time it is and how long it’s been. I won’t say I make it easy though🤣

Good question! :]

#rise of the parallel #tmnt #q&a #ninja turtles #teenage mutant ninja turtles

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

can you make one with matt murdock where they're good friends but one night they're drinking and having fun and then the reader kiss him but when they making out he ends up saying someone else name and the reader leaves, later on they talk and reader apologizes for misreading their relationship and continue to be friends but theres tension in it until bradley finally admits that he likes her and he try to make up for all the time lost

~Friends Don't Treat Me Like You Do~

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: none really, embarrassment?? Alcohol consumption, mentions of injuries (nothing major)

Genre: mostly fluff very minor angst

Summary: You've had a crush on your friend for a very long time and when you finally make your move it goes terribly wrong; And that's why friends should sleep in other beds // and friends shouldn't kiss me like you do ... // my friends won't love me like you - Friends by Ed Sheeran

A/N: I know it's a typo of some sort but it's sending me to the moon that the name Bradley is jus thrown into this ask cuz I can't even figure out what it's replacing lmaoooo anyway thank you for requesting! I hope you like it anon! :3 (also I didn't edit this plz be nice)

***

Your friendship with Matt Murdock is in some ways rather unconventional. You've been friends for many years, but these days most of your interactions consist of him stumbling over to your apartment at odd hours covered in bruises you don't ask about- not because you don't want to know but because you're pretty certain you've guessed it and you're not sure what acknowledging it would mean. So you don't ask, instead, you give him food, and tend to his wounds, and talk to him about whatever comes to mind until he inevitably falls asleep on your couch for a few hours and sneaks out early enough to go back to his place for his day job as a defense attorney with his two friends. Both of whom you'd consider friends- although not nearly as close as you are with Matt.

Tonight Matt's invited you over to his place. Apparently, he's been feeling a bit guilty that most of the time you've spent together in recent days has been just him coming over in the middle of the night. As if you'd ever actually be annoyed with taking care of your friend. Your friend you feel for more than he can ever know. Still, he insisted you come over for dinner so you did, he ordered your favorite from a takeout place near his place and now you're eating and drinking wine you brought along with you. Well, you're drinking wine, Matt's been helping himself to the beers filling his fridge.

"Whenever you come over I do all that talking Matty so today you can do the talking this time. Tell me what you've been getting up to lately." You tell him once you've covered asking each other how your day was.

"I don't do anything interesting y/n- I go to work, spend all day reading or writing lengthy opening statements or discussing things with Foggy and our clients until ungodly hours according to Karen. Sometimes they drag me out to Josie's but- there's really nothing I 'get up to' and you know that."

"Why do you do that?" You frown.

"What?"

"Make yourself seem so dull when you're not."

"Excuse me?"

"I've known you for a long time Matt and I can't think of single period of our lives where you had nothing interesting going on and yet you always talk about yourself as if you're the color beige personified. It's like you're worried that if people think you're too interesting they'll," you trail for a moment "find out something."

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing in particular. You're just way more interesting than you want people to think. For some reason."

"And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"You're not exactly an open book either."

"You got something to ask me about Matty?"

"No." He shakes his head. You stare at him for a long moment.

"We should play a game!" You announce.

"I don't really- have games?" Matt says.

"There are tons of games that don't require having anything Matt we just have to pick one."

"Like what?"

"We can play 20 questions- the right way, last letter first letter, I'm not a fan of Ghost but we can do that too, or word replacement- to name a few."

"I'm- not familiar with those besides 20 questions?"

"Well, last letter first letter you pick a category and we name items except the last letter of one item has to be the first letter of the next one so like if we're naming office supplies and I say stapler you'd say something like ruler. And Ghost is a spelling game, kinda like hot potato meets Horse the basketball game- so like you take turns spelling a word and you don't wanna be the one who finishes the word- if you do then you get a letter from the word ghost- first person to finish ghost loses. And then word replacement is just a silly game where you pick a movie or show title and change one of the words to the silliest thing you can think of." You explain quickly.

"Let's do the title one. Requires the least amount of thinking and I don't have to compete with you." He says.

"Then I'll start. Fast and Constipated." You giggle.

"Fast and Constipated!?" Matt's laugh is incredulous.

"Yeah, fast and furious but not so fun."

"Okay um- John Tucker Must... Juggle."

"That's way less fun than him dying." You laugh.

"True."

"What a Chupacabra wants."

"Goats- obviously."

"Shut up." You giggle.

"Now you- resent me 2."

"Oh that's- why would you say that?" You chuckle.

"I dunno I'm too drunk to think of movies." He mutters.

"All I've got are rom-coms in my head and those titles are not nearly as fun to fuck with. Two weeks- paleontologist?" 

"Paleontologist!? What movie was that even supposed to be?"

"Two weeks notice. Duh."

"I don't think I know that one." He frowns.

"It's about a woman who ends up working as the PA for some rich businessman when she tries to protest something he's trying to build- I forget the details but he turns out to be a giant useless manchild and when he disrupts her personal life for something frivolous she tries to quit but somehow they fall in love or whatever. It's been a while since I've watched it honestly." You shrug.

"Rom-coms are such a curious collection of movies."

"True but that one is pretty average compared to some others I've seen."

"Do you watch a lot of them?"

"I like to laugh at them mostly." You say. "You know what's a weird one? The Notebook."

"Is that not like- a classic?"

"I mean yeah but like the guy gets the girl to go on a date with him by dangling off of a moving ferris wheel."

"And that works?"

"Somehow! I mean I guess she didn't wanna feel responsible for him dropping himself off the wheel in front of an audience but I dunno it seems like he was just looking for reasons to die in that movie." You explain. "Although I never finished that movie maybe he does die. Except then it wouldn't be a rom-com I guess. It would be more tragedy, like in the Shakespearean sense."

"You are always somewhere else." Matt laughs.

"Not always! Oh! I brought that CD you wanted to borrow. We should play it." You sit up suddenly and grab your backpack.

"Are you sure all you've had is that bottle of wine?" Matt asks sitting up slowly from where he's laying on the floor.

"Where's your player?" You ignore his question.

"Should be in the bookcase." He waves absentmindedly.

"Do you want another beer while I'm up?" You ask walking over to the radio to pop the CD.

"Nah. I'm good thanks." He says. Music fills the apartment, and you can't help but sing along to the upbeat tune from Matt's CD player. You dance, well mostly spin, around the apartment giggling as you go.

"Are you dancing?" Matt turns towards you with a smile on his face although you're not looking at him.

"Of course I am- I love this song. Do you wanna dance with me?" You ask walking towards him, still dancing but less now so you can get where you're going.

"No no- I'll leave the dancing to you." Matt says before you make it all the way over to where he's sitting on the floor.

"Suit yourself." You shrug but when you attempt to change directions you trip on your backpack still on the floor and go tumbling towards the ground. Matt moves quicker than you'd expect for a blind guy off several beers but his arms shoot out and yank you towards him before your head hits the hardwood.

"Careful y/n." He says softly as he settles you into his lap.

"Do I need to be if you're here?" You joke smiling at him as you toss your arms over his shoulders.

"Y/n-" Matt's tone is warning in a way only he could get away with using on you.

"Relax Matty, I know to look after myself." You say quietly. Matt frowns slightly as if he's going to protest, but you don't let him get the words out. Alcohol coursing through your system, you seize the opportunity of his closeness and kiss him before you can talk yourself out of it. Matt lets out a noise of surprise, he heard your heart rate spike sure but he couldn't have guessed this was why. His lips move against yours for a second before something catches his attention and he's gasping out a name. Except, it's not your name.

"Karen." He breathes and it reaches your ears like a bucket of ice water dumped on your head. You jerk back suddenly.

"Oh my god-" You say scrambling out of his lap. "I- I am so sorry. I'm gonna go." You grab your bag and b-line it for the exit before Matt can even get to his feet.

"H-hang on a second y/n I-"

"I'll- I'll see you around Matt." You force yourself to say before leaving his apartment. You feel sharper than the amount of wine you've had should allow as you walk the few blocks to your place. Only once you're back in the safety of your own home do you let yourself wallow over how absolutely embarrassing that was. You might have just ruined one of the most important relationships in your life only for him to call out for another girl. You stumble into the shower in hopes of washing away some of the embarrassment you feel, or at the very least distracting yourself enough that you can shelf it and get some sleep. You spend hours tossing and replaying the moment excruciatingly but eventually, exhausting wins out and you do fall asleep. The next couple of days you pretty much ignore Matt's calls and texts. You really bury yourself in work to avoid dwelling on that awful night but you know you can't dodge him forever. Evidently, two days is as much as Matt's willing to give you to do so because on day 3 of avoidance he comes knocking at your door late at night as he sometimes does.

"Look- I know you've been avoiding me and all but-"

"Whatever you're gonna say Matt no need. I'm sorry I overstepped, I- I totally misread things the other night but hey- alcohol will do that sometimes. I'm sorry. We're good though. I'm good. I just needed a minute to lick my wounds of embarrassment. Everything's fine. Come on let's see the damage tonight hm?" You lead him into your apartment ignoring the confused look on his face. You let yourself settle back into your routine with him, patching him up, giving him food, getting him up to speed on the last couple of days of your life, telling stories, and just talking until he falls asleep on your couch. You're determined to shake this stupid crush of yours off and go back to the way things have always been between you. And if you're gonna shake this crush step one is putting yourself out there. Which you do, and for the next few weeks you find yourself on dates almost every night. Tonight's date is going surprisingly well all things considered. He'd planned to take you somewhere that ended up being closed after a freak accident the other day that he didn't know about. It was around the corner from Josie's so you brought him here instead and the conversation has been well worth it- even in a place like this. The one downside is that it's Friday and Foggy and Karen usually drag Matt here for drinks on Friday. You had hoped they'd skip out on that tonight but you of course could only be so lucky. When the bell over the door rings and you turn to see Karen leading Matt into the bar with Foggy behind them you almost want to groan. Dating has been nice but seeing Karen and Matt so close is like picking a scab. You turn back to your date with a smile, intent on ignoring the trio, except of course it couldn't be that simple.

"Oh my gosh! Y/n! Hey!" Karen beams at you.

"Karen! Hi! Foggy, Matt, good to see you all." You smile.

"You didn't tell us you'd be here tonight." She says.

"Well I didn't plan on it otherwise of course I'd have let you know." You tell her. "James this is Karen and that's Foggy and Matt. They're friends of mine. They all work together we've- kind of crashed their spot tonight." You tell your date.

"Oh! Well, any friend of yours is a friend of mine. Nice to meet y'all." James shakes each of their hands. "Did you guys- wanna join us? Since it's pretty crowded in here you might not find another table."

"That's so nice of you James!" Karen says. Very nice indeed.

"I'll track down some chairs." Foggy says. You shift your seat closer to James to make room at the table since apparently they'll be joining you. You try not to pay too much attention to Matt's silence as everyone settles around the table.

"So y/n, you told James how we know you but you didn't mention how you know James. Are you guys work colleagues or something?"

"We have a mutual friend that set us up." James offers.

"Oh my gosh! We're crashing a date?! Why didn't you say so?" Karen shakes her head.

"No no no don't even worry about it, we've been here a couple of hours already. I invited you to sit with us so the night could go on." He says.

"Asking me, also would have worked." You smile.

"You guys are just the cutest." Karen sighs.

"I'm guessing this is a first date since- y/n's never mentioned you before." Matt says.

"It is. Not that I have to tell you about every guy I see." You say.

"You tell me everything." He scoffs.

"That's not true and even if it were that doesn't change the fact that I don't have to."

"So you keep things from me?"

"Am I missing something?" James chuckles.

"Matt and y/n have been friends since they were teenagers. They fight like they're siblings sometimes." Foggy explains.

"Sorry about that James. Matt's just-"

"Like a brother- I get it. I have siblings so I definitely know what it's like." He nods.

"Exactly." You smile.

"Like a brother." Matt quirks an eyebrow at you.

"As good a way as any to describe us." You nod. Matt hums and raises his glass to his lips without another word. The five of you sit and talk over drinks for another hour before you're ready to leave and James is happy to walk you out.

"I had a lot of fun tonight." He tells you.

"Even with the date crashers?" You ask with a goofy grimace.

"Heck yeah! Your friends are great." He laughs. "Next time I'll have my friends crash us. How about that?"

"Next time?"

"If you're willing. I'd really like to see you again."

"I- I'd like that." You nod.

"Cool. I'll- start coming up with second date ideas."

"Hopefully this time the place you pick doesn't impromptu have an incident." You laugh.

"I will quadruple check." He tells you. When you reach your block, but not your building, you stop and turn to him.

"Sounds good. I'll see you around James." You smile. He leans forward and kisses your cheek softly.

"Goodnight y/n." He says and walks away. You make it up to your apartment, kick off your shoes, and take a long shower. You enjoyed talking to James and you actually are interested in seeing him again for sure. Soon you're showered and pajamaed and pretty much ready for bed but before you can flop into it there's a knock at your door. Who could be knocking on your door right now? A quick check shows you it's Matt standing in your hallway.

"Matthew?" You open the door with a frown.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Well- right now I'm wondering what you're doing in my apartment."

"Like a brother to you?! Seriously? Last time I checked most people don't make out with their brothers."

"Depends on where you are I suppose." You shrug. "But regardless Matt that was a mistake we both know that." You shake your head.

"A mistake? Is that how you feel about it?"

"How I- I'm sorry did you forget calling out Karen's name while I was kissing you?! Cuz I've been trying to so if you've got tips to share on how that'd be great."

"Goddammit y/n." He sighs dropping his head.

"Matt you really should go. I know you worry or whatever but- James is, nice and it's late I'd like to go to bed."

"Screw James." Matt scoffs.

"Um- it was only our first date- you're skipping a few steps."

"That is not what I- it's like you do this on purpose."

"What are you doing here Matt?" You sigh. 

"I don't like you dating him. I don't like you dating anyone for that matter. How could you kiss me like that and just... move on like nothing?"

"I dunno it's pretty easy when you call me the wrong name." You say.

"That was not what you think."

"I'm sure."

"It wasn't y/n. I'm serious. I could-" Matt stops and lets out a breath. "I'm Daredevil." He says.

"I know." You nod.

"What? You know?"

"You come in here at the witching hour every few days covered in bruises Matt how many explanations could there possibly be for that?" You roll your eyes.

"You never asked."

"I figured you'd tell me when you were ready." You shrug. "Why tell me now?"

"Since I can't see- my other senses make up for the loss. They're like- very developed. I heard Karen scream somewhere in Hell's Kitchen, she sounded like she was in trouble that's- that's why I called out her name. I thought maybe one of Daredevil's many enemies managed to connect her to me. It wouldn't be the first time, I'm always listening for her and Foggy these days and I just-"

"Well was she in danger?" You ask.

"Nightmare." He mutters. "But by the time I pieced that together you were gone."

"Of course I was. Having a man say someone else's name when you kiss him is not something that encourages-" Matt cuts off your snarky remark by cupping your face in his hands and kissing you. You react quickly, kissing him back, your hands wrapping around his wrists. By the time you pull away from him, you're breathing heavily.

"I'm in love with you. I have been for as long as I can remember. I'm sorry I wasn't clear about it." He says.

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"Well in my defense I've spent the last few weeks trying to get over you-" Matt kisses you again, hard, possessive, fiery.

"Don't." He says.

"Obviously." You grab the collar of his shirt and kiss him again. You spent years thinking you'd never get to kiss him, now that you know the truth you fully intend to take advantage and Matt has years of pining he wants to make up for.

***

#marvel #marvel fanfiction #matt murdock fluff #matt murdock x reader #matt murdock #daredevil fluff #daredevil fanfiction #daredevil #requests

[miastideclock]

quiet, bang chan

requested by: absolutely no one word count: 968 warnings: me being a simp, also not edited :)

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the humming of the fridge and the slight buzzing of the airconditioner in the other room. cracking of knuckles every now and again. soft tapping on two separate keyboards.

chan was sitting with his back against the headboard, tapping away on his computer. you were sitting cross legged, facing the headboard and using your pillow as a seat for your own laptop. it was just one of those nights where you had been doing each your thing, but together in a sense. you hadn't spoken in the past two and a half hours, but every now and then, you would rest your hand on his knee and rub your thumb against his exposed skin. in the same way, he would take the time to bend over and brush your hair out of your eyes and kiss your cheek once in a while.

you adored time spent like this. you both acknowledged that there was no need for talking all the time, and you could easily spend quality time together in complete silence, focusing on each your thing.

it had been a while since you rested your hand on any part of his leg, so while you were going from one tab to another, you reached your hand over and gave his thigh a light squeeze. it was then you noticed his shorts weren't keeping him warm anymore. the exposed skin on his leg was almost shocking to the touch. you looked up from your screen and at him, waiting from him to do the same.

"are you cold?" you asked him, just above a whisper. he was about to shake his head no when he went to scratch an itch on his leg, right by where you were holding your hand. it then seemed to shock him as well how cool his skin felt.

"i didn't even realize." he admitted, now rubbing his leg, trying to friction up some heat. you turned around and grabbed a wool blanket that was placed on the footstool at the end of the bed. you unfolded it while chan raised his computer so you could place it on his lap. after he had put the computer back down on top of the blanket, he did the same for you.

even though your laptop was resting on your pillow, you still lifted it so he could maneuver the blanket around easily. while you held your laptop up in the air, you looked out the window that was right over your headboard.

as far as you were concerned, the world was a much too noisy place. whether it was loud cars zooming by, or the sound it made when someone was walking across the street, you always thought everything would be better if it was quieter, or at least softer.

"the first snow." you whispered, mostly to yourself, but chan could hear it too. he finished up project-blanket, and looked at you in hopes you would give some context.

"pardon?"

you loved winter for that one particular reason. snow. it fell over the world in a gentle, white sheet that silenced everything. sounds didn't carry half as far, and footsteps grew softer.

"first snow of this season." you spoke again, this time putting your laptop down and nodding slightly in the direction of the windows. it was dark outside, so the only way you could really see the snow, was directly under the warm-colored streetlights.

"i guess it is." chan spoke equally quiet as he turned in his seat and looked outside. "c'mere, i have an idea."

you turned your attention over to the man who was no longer sitting next to you, but standing over by the closet. he changed from shorts to sweatpants, eagering you to do the same as he tossed you a hoodie of his. while you did as you were told, he left the room. you could easily hear based on his footsteps that he went to the kitchen.

after getting dressed and descending the stairs, you found yourself trying to place the smell that suddenly entered your vicinity. not many seconds later, chan revealed it to be hot chocolate as he handed you a steaming cup.

"you grab the massive blanket from the living room, i'll grab pillows for us to sit on, and then we meet out on the front steps?" he half instructed, half asked. you nodded in agreement, without really understanding what he was up to.

you turned around and moved to the living room, grabbing the biggest blanket you could find from the ottoman, as well as your slippers, and you walked out on the front steps. there he was, placing two pillows down for you, him patting the one he wasn't already sitting on, inviting you to join him.

after sitting down on your designated pillow, and wrapping the two of you in the big blanket, you took a sip of your hot drink. it was a nice contrast against the freezing temperatures you were sat in. instinctively, you scooted closer to the man on your left, trying to leech off of his body heat. he shifted and wrapped his arm around you, allowing you to snuggle into his side.

"why are we out here, by the way?" you finally asked, having yet to understand his spontaneity.

"i know how much you love snow, and how much especially you love the first snow; so i thought we could sit here for a while and watch it for a while."

it was the perfect reason. you did love snow, and especially the first snow. so there you sat, on the front steps of your shared apartment, watching the snowfall soundlessly.

no more humming of the fridge, or buzzing from the air conditioner. only muted nothingness.

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cheers, bentley♡

#kpop #kpop scenarios #kpop reactions #kpop one shot #kpop requests #stray kids #stray kids scenarios #stray kids reactions #stray kids one shots #stray kids requests #stray kids drabbles #stray kids imagines #skz #bang chan #bang chan imagines

[honeybeezgobzzzzz]

𓅨 Your Fate is Sealed With Mine: Chapter Eleven

Your Fate is Sealed With Mine: Y/N Burgess is the granddaughter of Alex and Paul, and after having spent so many summers at their manor and always wondering why she was forbidden from entering the basement, she descends the steps into the world of the Order. She broke out the being that had been trapped in that glass cage, but what does he want with her now that he is free?

Warnings: Language, Reader Choses Verbal Violence When Drunk, Alcohol Consumption Mentions.

To Note: Morpheus/Dream x Female!GranddaughterReader, based on Netflix’s ‘The Sandman’, Reader now has long-ish hair for plot reasons (Just so Morpheus can tug on it later).

Word Count: ~2.4k

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Long after you had stumbled back to the hotel room you had booked for the night, drunk off your arse and in need of Advil and tonic, you dropped your aching body into the hotel bed with a soft groan. Drinking that much alcohol was not a good idea, who knew what trouble you could have gotten yourself into being in that state at a club, but you were feeling spiteful tonight… er, last night… it was after two in the morning. If he didn’t want you kissing or fucking anyone, he was going to have to watch your drunk arse like a hawk. Your eyes looked at the London skyline outside your hotel room, glazed over by the alcohol. 

“Do you like pissing my brother off?” You didn’t flinch or ever move at the voice. No, you only rolled your head to look at the woman standing in your hotel room with a raised eyebrow. Brother? She had to be talking about one man. 

“I can kiss whoever I damn well please,” You grumbled, your voice coming out in a croak. “And he certainly doesn’t control me.” 

“Mhm, I got that when you went and got yourself piss drunk on purpose.” The woman chuckled, taking a few steps closer. “Have to admit, I’m curious about a woman who intentionally pisses off my brother.” 

“Which one are you?” She smiled pleasantly. 

“I am Death.” You grunted at her. Death didn’t look like you expected… but then again what was death supposed to look like?

“So then Death, where the hell have you been in the last one hundred years?” You grumbled out, your drunk brain entirely fearless to talk to an Endless with such an attitude. “Dream has how many siblings and not one of you help him? You’ve got a lot of gall showing up.”

Her eyes narrowed at you and you narrowed your own, your irises blazing with silver color. The room’s lights flickered as both of your powers presented themselves. Drunk you wasn’t going to back down from challenging the Endless though, and it was only after Death started chuckling that you backed down with a huff. 

“He’s lucky to have you.” She murmured as your slow brain tried to understand what was going on. A far-off look echoed in her eyes. “You’re right, we should have done something, it’s inexcusable to have left our brother trapped there.” 

“I don’t understand why he chose me or what it means to be bound.” You blabbered, dropping back against the mattress and feeling your head swimming from the alcohol in your veins. “And he deserves siblings that actually act like siblings. None of you deserve him.”

Death let out a sigh and sat on the end of the bed. 

“You’re right, we don’t deserve him.” She spoke softly. “But he’s got you now, and I know that you’re what he needs. Maybe you can curb his egotistical ways.” 

“He shouldn’t need me, he shouldn’t need anyone.” Your voice was listless in the night, barely there as your mind wandered until you slipped into sleep. 

Taking the train back to Wych Cross was miserable and you were hungover. Even more so when it was God knows how early in the morning. At least the sun wasn’t out yet or you would be in a world of hurt. The headache that already plagued your brain left you groaning softly in your seat, miserable and well-hungover. You had spent the first hour with your eyes closed, leaning against the window while trying to pretend like you hadn’t gotten yourself blackout drunk with Jemima last night. 

You knew that when you had that much to drink you usually ended up blacking out and completely forgetting several hours. It was a stupid idea no matter how spiteful you were feeling at that moment. You just hoped that it was worth it because there was no doubt in your mind that Dream was probably seething from your actions. A rather scary thought considering that he was an Endless. Would you inadvertently tip him into smiting you or something? Maybe considering your interactions thus far. You’d have to watch your manners with him. Your phone buzzed and you let out a groan. You fumbled with your messenger bag and dug around until you found your phone. Blinking at the screen, you wrinkled your nose. 

Jem: Still among the living love? [9:21]

Your fingers were sluggishly tapping on the screen, backtracking as you hit the wrong letters and just generally failed at spelling. 

Y/N: Sod off, Jemmie. I’m not dead. [9:21]

Jem: Ooh, Y/N-bear is feeling feisty this morning. You drank like a fish last night, love, who were you trying to forget? [9:21]

Not to forget, trying to piss off, actually. You weren’t going to tell her that though. The last thing you needed was for Jemima to get mixed up in this mess. Besides, you don’t even remember if your plan actually worked in the first place.

Y/N: Total blackout, I’ve got nothing to report :/ [9:22]

Jem: Disappointing, but classic drunk Y/N Burgess. How’s the head? You make your train on time? [9:22]

Y/N: Halfway to Wych Cross already and ready to die in a hole from my headache. [9:23]

You reached up and adjusted the ball cap you had on, trying to tilt it so the morning sun didn’t pierce your eyes so harshly. It was several minutes before Jemima replied to your text, and you spent those minutes looking out the window at the passing scenery. Out of the corner of your eye, you caught a cloud of black weaving in and out of the trees, keeping up in time with the train. Startling in your seat, you straightened up and looked closer. You could see a trail of glowing red eyes and in that instance, your arm started burning in pain once more. That beast, it couldn’t be the one that… a loud crash to your left diverted your attention to see an older lady who had dropped her walking stick. Someone picked it up for her. 

“Oh dear me,” She gasped. “Terribly sorry!”

“Oh no worries, Mum, here you are,” She was handed back her walking stick. You turned your head back to what looked like a hell beast following along the train. It was gone. 

“And now I’m losing my mind,” You whispered, thumping the side of your head against the glass window with a tired sigh. Your phone buzzed one last time and you glanced at the screen. 

Jem: Drink lots of water, love. I’ll call you later. I’ve got to run to meet with a client [9:28]

 At least Jemima’s life was on track because you felt like yours was falling apart. Closing your eyes, you reached up and felt your wrapped wounds. They pulsated with sharp pain, a deep throb that was in time with your heartbeat. 

Upon reaching Wych Cross, you forwent getting a taxi in favor of a miserable walk home, hoping that you would perk up from a nice walk to hide how hungover you were. The last thing Paul needed was a hungover, moody granddaughter. So walking it was and you were lucky that it was a very nice day to do so. Just so damn bright… Reaching the wooded road that led to Fawny Rig, you stuck your hands in your pockets and kicked at a rock that had made its way into the road. It skittered down the road before ultimately falling to the side. 

At your slow pace, it probably took you about forty-five minutes to walk to Fawny Rig, but at least by the time you were walking up to the front doors you felt less hungover. Letting yourself in, you took off your shoes and left your bag hanging on the banister to the stairs. Food first, then you could clean up and sleep. On your way to the dining room, you passed Herman who welcomed you back and said that he would fix you a plate for lunch. So you continued your way into the dining room and found Paul holding a newspaper, but staring off into space. 

“Lost in thought?” You asked, kissing his cheek in greeting and then taking a seat directly next to him. Paul perked up.

“Darling you’re back! How was your trip? Did you enjoy your time with Jemima?” Paul asked, latching onto something to speak and think about other than grandpapa Alex upstairs. You smiled gently and patted his hand reassuringly. 

“It was wonderful, we went out for dinner at a most scrumptious Japanese restaurant Jemima’s been wanting to try.” You left out the part where you then went to a club and both got hammered with alcohol. You definitely didn’t tell him that you didn’t remember anything from the club. His heart didn’t need that strain. 

“Oh, I’m so happy that you enjoyed yourself.” Paul sighed, readjusting his glasses to push them further up his nose. “These last few days certainly have been trying.”

“They have, how have you been?” You asked while Herman came in with filled plates and a fresh tea tray with the cook's famous biscuits. While Paul told you about his past few days, you both did your best to enjoy lunch. When you finished off your tea and sandwich, you leaned back in your seat and wrinkled your nose. After having that wild night at the club, you felt like you needed a good wash… or soak in the tub. You were partial to baths. You excused yourself, airing out your desire to wash off the morning's travel, and made your way upstairs. The first thing you did was start the water in the antique claw foot tub. You thumbed through the bath oils that were stocked in the cabinet nearby and picked one, adding a few drops to the waterline that was slowly rising. 

With the bath nearly ready, you edged your body out of your traveling clothes and carefully unwrapped your raw-looking arm. The scratch marks looked red and angry, a far cry from how they looked a week ago. It was like the wound was regressing from its original form. Then again, it was from a hell beast and you weren’t sure how exactly a scratch in The Dreaming transferred over to the waking world. You tried not to think about the oddity of the stinging wound and stepped into the bath, sighing as you sink beneath the warm water. 

The water felt heavenly against your aching body and leaning your head back against the edge of the claw foot tub, you closed your eyes and tried to relax. It wasn’t entirely too hard, the lovely scent of the bath oil calmed your mind and your muscles were soothed from the heat of the water. Your tiredness drew you into nodding off into a gentle lull of sleep that was an escape from the slight headache that remained of your hangover. You didn’t know how much time had passed since you had gotten into the bath, but your stress had entirely melted away and the pain in the arm you had resting over the side of the tub had disappeared. You were slowly nodding off when you felt fingertips lightly brush across your cheek. You flickered your eyes open. 

“Don’t you have more important things to do than watch me sit in a tub?” You asked your voice slightly on the raspy side. You moved your non-injured arm across your chest, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks. He didn’t respond to your obvious jib at him and instead chose to continue to run his fingers across your cheek to your jaw, and then down your neck. You let out a sigh and then a groan when his lips brushed your shoulder. 

“What I do with my time is my decision alone.” He drew out, running his lips further across your shoulder and then ever so lightly up your neck. You shivered against his lips, trying to fight off the desire for more. He was Endless, you were mortal. Nothing about him was obtainable. Nothing about you was good.

“You shouldn’t be here,” Your words were whispered as you stared at the ceiling. 

“Then tell me to go,” Did he have a response for everything? Your tongue was thick, disabling you from an automatic response of: please leave. You tilted your head to finally look at him. Dark silver blue eyes met yours and you shuddered once more. You could see it in his eyes, he knew you wouldn’t be able to say it. 

“Why can’t I kiss who I want? Why do you always interfere with my relationships?” You asked, pressing your lips together in slight frustration. “What am I not understanding?”

He was still for a few moments and you felt like he was staring into your soul. You still held his gaze, wanting, and needing, an answer to this madness. Then he started moving. Your back went rigid when you realized that his face was drawing near, and going taught, you fought against the slight moan that wanted to crawl from your throat as his lips brushed their way up your neck to the shell of your ear. You were sure he could feel you trembling. 

“You’re mine, Y/N,” Your eyes widened and ever so slowly, you turned your head to look at him. Your faces were nearly a hair width apart and rather than heat, you felt coolness radiating from his skin. It was so hard not to stare at his lips so close to yours. Just one little shift and they would be on yours, just like they had been all those weeks ago. 

Stop it, Y/N. Stop it. 

It was another dilemma of mortality and who you were as a person. A mortal. A Burgess. A train wreck. Everything he should stay well away from. Your heart ached in your chest as you pulled away, retracting your body from him and his ethereal presence. Lowering your injured arm into the tub, you looked down at yourself solemnly. Misery surrounded you. It was as simple as that. It was hard not to jerk away when his fingers brushed against your cheek once more. Why was he being so damn gentle with you?

Something caught your eye. You raised your left arm and stared at your upper arm. Where you were supposed to have a set of scratches that had been plaguing you for weeks on end, was smooth skin. Dream. Your world twisted as you surged into a sitting position in the tub, the water now cool. You checked your arm, the scratches were still there. You had fallen asleep in the tub. Why was your mind still playing tricks on you? You let out a frustrated scream and buried your face in your hands.

Date Published: 9/19/22

Last Edit: 5/29/23

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#morpheus x reader #dream of the endless x reader #dream the endless x reader #sandman x reader #the sandman netflix #lord morpheus #dream of the endless #dream the endless #morpheus #the sandman

[snakes-writing-corner]

Ahem,,,

May I request Morpho Knight x Reader HCs, pretty please?

I kind of have in mind that Reader met them by "dying" once, like meeting them in "limbo" sorts where the time (and Reader's body, cuz some kind of injury I guess?) itself decides whether or not Reader will live and go back to mortals realm.

Probably hurt and comfort too,,,

Oooooo that’s a fun idea! Always down to do HCs for my favorite butterfly knight.

Thanks for your request!

Morpho Knight x Reader HCs

Finding yourself playing a balancing act between life and death due to hypothermia was… not ideal to say the least.

You almost flatlined when you were approached by an orange-yellowish butterfly that turned into knight right in front of you.

After you got over your shock you had to admit they were quite beautiful in an entrancing way. The way their black body contrasted with the warm colors adoring their armor and wings was mesmerizing.

The butterfly knight in turn was also intrigued. It was very rare for a soul to walk the line between life and death, and they wished to see this soul for themselves to see what kind of creature it was.

After a few beats of silence you introduced yourself, albeit a little awkwardly. The knight in turn introduced themselves as Morpho Knight.

After that your time in limbo was less lonely you talked about many things to Morpho while they listened thoughtfully.

You learned that Morpho rarely ever talked about themselves or really talked at all. (Well talking is a loose definition it’s more like telepathically communicating.)

After getting to know what kind of soul you were, Morpho made the decision to not take it just yet. They might be a little biased in that decision, but they’d never met a mortal like you before. A mortal that wasn’t afraid by the mere sight of them was a rarity.

Morpho however could not send you back to the mortal realm on their own. That was for time to decide, but as long as they did not take your soul, you would wake up… eventually.

In the meantime you both spent your time merely enjoying each other’s company, with you trying to maybe get a few answers out of your new friend.

Questions like “What is this place?”, and others were thrown Morpho’s way, and they answered as honestly as they could.

Then the question of if they were here to take your soul came up, and they sat in silence, contemplating how they should realistically answer.

While being feared was something Morpho didn’t mind due to the very nature of their existence, here they truly did not want to be. At least, not by you.

However they valued honesty above all else so they told you the truth. They told you about the nature of their being, how they judge souls, and how they can take a physical form in the mortal realm outside of the butterfly.

When you showed amazement instead of fear Morpho relaxed a little. You truly were completely fascinated by this revelation, and continued asking more and more questions which Morpho now happily answered without worry.

Time in limbo was quite odd. Due to the nature of it being between the realm of life and death time was infinite yet nonexistent. Minutes felt like hours yet days felt like seconds.

In Morpho’s words “Mortals cannot comprehend how the in-between truly functions. Truthfully even I do not fully understand how this realm operates.”

As the two of you spent more time together you noticed how excited you got when Morpho would pay attention to your stories, how their wings twitched and flapped when they talked about things that interested them, how their eyes sparkled when talking about the various individuals they met over the centuries, how deep and quiet their laughs were, and… oh no you have a crush on them don’t you?

Funnily enough Morpho could tell right away. They’ve lived long enough to see the signs of love in mortals, but wanted to see how long it would take before you confessed or indirectly confirmed they’re (very much correct) suspicions.

Morpho truthfully did love you as well don’t get that wrong, but was significantly better at hiding it than you, and definitely fell in love with you long before you did.

They knew they were smitten, they knew they had it bad and really shouldn’t feel this way, but how could they not when you were just this adorable?

The way your eyes just lit up when talking about something you enjoyed, the way your voice would go up in pitch just a little when looking at them, and gosh they could really just stare at you for eternity and not look away for a second if fate allowed it.

In a twisted sense of irony when Morpho was staring at you with their guard down they muttered out an “I love you.” on accident.

You just so happened to overhear and went beat red. Morpho realizing their mistake just chuckled and brushed it off.

It wasn’t very long after that you too unofficially started dating. Neither of you needed to say it out loud you both just well knew.

When it came time for your soul to go back to the mortal realm, Morpho gave you a little necklace in the shape of a butterfly saying that it would allow them to visit you in your dreams.

They also said they’d be watching over you and to “Not perish in the near future otherwise I shall have to duel against fate itself.”

You woke up in the hospital with that same butterfly necklace around your neck and a lovestruck smile on your face.

It was only until you looked towards the window that you see a familiar orange-yellowish butterfly watching you from the windowsill. It then clicked what Morpho had meant by watching over you, and your smile doubled in size.

Little Bonus :)

Nicknames Morpho Uses For You

Darling

Honey

Sugar

Sweetheart

Rose/My Rose

Love/My Love

Sunshine

Lovebug

Soulmate

#morpho knight #kirby #hoshi no kirby #my writing #morpho knight x reader #kirby morpho knight

[oneirataxia-girl]

Lmao sorry, I was reading something else while also sending an ask and got mixed up. Cute character ask game + Lynelda

ahhh np np!! everyone makes mistakes <33 here's my dragon girlie Lynelda!! tagging fellow bbc merlin girlie @supermarine-silvally as well!

under a cut bc it’s long af

the basics

name: Lynelda

age: 17 at the start of BBC Merlin season 1

zodiac sign: cancer

one good trait: nurturing

one bad trait: temperamental

habits

one bad habit: gets upset if things aren't going as well as they should

one good habit: says her pleases and thank yous

one habit they can’t break: baking when she’s stressed

one they’ve broken: throwing grumpy fits whenever something doesn't go her way

what they’re afraid of: getting caught using magic, losing her friends (Merlin particularly), drowning

family

their parents names: Lynelda doesn't remember her birth parents, but her adopted mother is Mary Collins

their siblings names: her adopted brother's name is Thomas Collins!

favorite childhood memory: learning how to make the fire dance with Mary

favorite childhood toy: a doll that's been patched up too many times to have any resemblance to its original form

embarrassing story: Lynelda cannot swim, but after a dare from Thomas, she lept into the Lake of Avalon without a second thought, then had to be dragged out hissing and spitting like a drowned cat

favorite family member: Mary, since as a little sister she refuses to acknowledge that she likes Thomas

a story about that family member: Thomas was always worried that someone would find out about Mary or Lynelda's magic. in some twisted way, it's ironic that he was the one convicted of using witchcraft -- and it's not even because he could do it, it was because a noble's son had a grudge against him

what they prefer

coffee or tea? coffee (if it existed in medieval times)

showering in the day or night? day, because nights are usually spent working in the tavern until the wee hours of the next morning

taking baths or taking showers? baths (I don't think they're showering in medieval times, I could be wrong tho)

tv or movies? movies

writing or reading? reading

platonic or romantic love? romantic

iced tea or lemonade? lemonade

ice cream or smoothies? smoothies

cupcakes or cake? cake

beach or mountains? beach

favorites

song: touch the sky -- specifically this version

band: Auri

outfit: blue colors mostly, typical peasant clothing, sometimes can be seen with Merlin's jacket

place: Lake of Avalon

memory: dancing with Merlin during her 19th birthday celebration

person: Merlin (good luck trying to get her to admit it though)

movie: the fellowship of the ring

show: the wheel of time

Cute Character Questions!

#oc: lynelda #alvita's answers #alicia my beloved #cleaning out the drafts #i think shes very much a fantasy lover #not sure tho #(shes literally my spawn how tf do i not know #idk brain #idk

[soniccrazygal]

Hey so in your mike pines au, is possible to show us a moment when mike truly misses being 100 percent human and all the trauma of his life? I mean being a cyborg is cool and all, but I bet it has a lot of disadvantages as advantages?

(This takes place right after the body swapping incident with Dipper)

The sun was just beginning to set, turning the sky a golden color and promised a dazzling display of other colors soon to follow. But as Mike sat on the edge of the roof, he wasn’t looking at the beautiful view, but rather his hands. He curled and straightened his fingers, watching the difference between flesh and machine and trying not to dwell on how just a few hours earlier, he had had two normal human hands. (Though they hadn’t really been his hands had they…)

“I knew I’d find you moping up here kid,” Stan commented, joining Mike on the roof.

“I’m not moping,” Mike countered defensively, refusing to admit that was exactly what he had been doing.

“Fine brooding then,” Stan teased before his expression softened. “Kid, something about this whole “body swap” you had with Dipper is eating at you. You can talk to me about it or you can wait until the twins figure out something’s bothering you and the pester you into sharing your feelings.”

Mike chuckled a little at that, knowing that’s exactly what would happen.

“Despite the circumstances surrounding it, in many ways I’m grateful that Cipher turned me into a cyborg,” Mike eventually started, once more studying his hands. “I had spent decades as what could be classified as a literal monster. A barely human creature that was just existing and surviving rather than living. And then suddenly, I’m more human again than I ever dreamed of happening. I have a heart that beats, I can taste and actually feel things again, and I’m alive. I had gained so much back that should have been impossible that anything I still lost was nothing and honestly, after so long of not being human I hadn’t really noticed anything different… but now…”

“Now you’ve had the reminder what it was like to be fully human again,” Stan concluded. “You’ve discovered what you’re missing.”

Mike nearly nodded, still staring at his hands. While Mike wouldn’t have made any different decisions about trying to switch back as soon as possible, there was still a part of him that wished he had taken the time to experience things he couldn’t experience otherwise. To feel grass or sand between his toes. To be able to just jump in a pool of water without having to make sure all his parts were air tight. To be able to go sightseeing without various programs analyzing his surroundings and displaying his current condition status. To be able to hug or roughhouse with someone without subconsciously always worrying about using too much of his strength. To just be human again.

Stan didn’t say anything, just wrap an arm around Mike’s shoulders to offer comfort and watched the sunset.

“You know, if you asked I’m sure Ford could come up with some do-hicki or spell to turn you human,” Stan commented after a while. “It might take a while to figure out, but I’m sure Sixer would love the challenge.”

While Stan had said that in a joking manner, Mike knew he was serious. His family looked out for each other and that included him. If expressed the desire to be human again, he knew the others would do everything they could to make that happen. And while a small part of him was tempted, he wouldn’t for the same reason he chose not to pursue a time wish. Chasing after impossible goals like that always cost more than they were worth and Mike refused to lose his new family to that kind of obsession the way Willam lost him his old one.

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Mike chuckled, appreciating the sentiment even if nothing would ever come of it. “But being a Cyborg isn’t all bad. I can beat almost everyone at arm wrestling, though I wouldn’t risk going up against Wendy’s dad.”

“Wise,” Stan nodded knowingly. “I swear that man has to be part bear. You ready to head back in kid? These hard boards aren’t good for my old bones.”

“Yeah I’m ready old man,” Mike smirked, getting a smack to the back of his head.

While Mike did miss some of the things he lost by no longer being fully human, the things he’s gained were worth some much more. He had a real home now and a family that loved him. He wouldn’t give trade them for anything in the world.

#soniccrazygal answers #mike pines au #michael afton #stan pines #FNAF #gravity falls

[nancygillianmvp]

you taught me how to be loved

1,523 words. rated t. summary: All TK and Carlos want is to plan a peaceful wedding, but danger seems to follow TK wherever he goes. for the @tarlos-week-2022 day 6 prompt 'i'm too young to be a widower.'

‘Hey!’ Carlos shouts over the top of his wedding magazine as TK starts to place his mug on the coffee table before joining his fiancé on the couch in the early morning light. 

‘What?’ TK asks as he hovers the mug over the slither of the table not covered in wedding planning. 

Every surface of the loft is covered in wedding magazines, a rainbow of post-it notes, color-coded binders, carefully curated collages, and fabric swatches. Although TK couldn’t possibly tell you what the swatches are for, he thinks perhaps for bowties but wouldn’t swear to it. They’ve been eating, sleeping and breathing nothing but wedding planning whenever their schedules align. But, of course, TK is happy to go along with anything that makes Carlos happy regarding the wedding. 

‘Not on the table with the wedding binder. You might spill it. Do you know how many hours I’ve spent on this?’ Carlos throws his hands in the air in frustration.

‘Babe, relax. I’ll move it.’ TK says, placing his coffee carefully on the floor by the couch and earning himself a glare from Carlos. 

‘I am relaxed. I just want everything to be perfect for the wedding.’ Carlos says through gritted teeth, but his tone is anything but relaxed.

‘Babe, you’re so tense right now. We’re looking at suits today, and you need to relax so you can enjoy it. So we can enjoy it.’ TK says, rubbing his fiancé’s shoulders.

‘You’re right.’ Carlos admits, his body softening into TK’s shoulder massage.

‘I usually am.’ TK responds with a cocky smirk. Of course, he’s not always right, but he tends to be when it comes to Carlos.

‘I don’t know if I would go as far as to say that…,’ Carlos teases, and they go about their morning, getting ready to leave for the formalwear shop.

keep reading on ao3 or under the cut

‘What’s on your mind?’ Carlos asks TK as they step out of the car outside the store.

What isn’t on your mind might be a better question. TK’s been in his head the whole drive here. And it’s not just because he’s been dreaming of this moment for half his life. Or because he never thought he’d actually be picking a suit to wear to marry the man of his dreams. It’s not even because he’d always imagined his mom helping him pick out his suit and plan his wedding.

It’s because he’s happy , happier than he ever thought possible, and he wants to savour every second of this experience. He doesn’t want anything to ruin this for them, but he can’t help but worry. Sure, Austin is more progressive than he first expected, but it’s still Texas , and he doesn’t mean to judge, but you never really know how people will react to two grooms. 

‘I’m just in my head about how they’re going to react in there. To us being engaged, I mean.’ He admits, somehow, since the engagement, it’s been easier to be vulnerable with Carlos, especially about stuff like this.

‘There’s no need to worry. I had the same thought, and I found this boutique online. They specialise in queer formalwear.’ Carlos says, motioning to a rainbow of suits in the window display. Relief floods through TK’s body, and he starts to wonder why he was worried at all. Of course, Carlos thought of it. Carlos thinks of everything.

They’ve been trying on a rainbow of suits and tuxedos for hours now, and the color variations, different cuts, and fabric choices are starting to overwhelm TK.

‘Maybe I’m just being too picky?’ He asks.

‘You can be picky; it’s your wedding day, and you have to be comfortable in it.’

‘I’m comfortable in a hoodie. If only I could get a formal hoodie...’

‘I’d marry you in a hoodie. Heck, I’d marry you in pyjamas even. But maybe try this one? It’ll make your eyes pop.’ He says, and he hands TK an emerald green suit.

‘This is it, babe. This is the one.’ Carlos says to TK as he steps out of the dressing room for the hundredth time. Ok, so maybe not the hundredth, though it sure feels like it. 

‘I think so too.’ TK tells him, reaching up to wipe a tear from his fiance’s cheek, ignoring the ones trailing down his own.

‘You know, I might just die seeing you walk down the aisle to me in this suit, though.’

‘Ugh, Carlos. I’m too young to be a widower and far too hot.’ And sure, the last part is a little self-indulgent, but he knows Carlos will love it.

‘Don’t be so dramati–’ Carlos says, but he’s cut off suddenly. It’s like the universe is mocking them. A car comes careening over the sidewalk and through the window display, narrowly avoiding Carlos.

‘You ok, babe?’ TK asks as he peels off the suit jacket and rounds the car to check on the driver. ‘Call 9-1-1,’ He shouts to the shocked shop owner, who nods and pulls out a phone.

‘I’m all good, just some glass in my hair.’ Carlos says as he heads for the passenger door.

‘No pulse.’ TK calls out as he opens the driver's door, and Carlos comes around to help him. Together they lift the patient from the car, TK supporting her head. As soon as the patient is flat on the ground, TK commences CPR.

‘There’s a kid in the back seat. Can I take over for you so you can check her out?’ Carlos calls out, opening the door to a terrified toddler still strapped into a car seat.

Effortlessly, they switch places, and Carlos commences compressions. Even in the middle of the chaos, TK can’t help but notice how well they work together as a team.

‘Hi, buddy. What’s your name?’ TK asks the young boy 

‘Tyler.’

‘That’s my name too! Does anything hurt Tyler?’

‘It hurts here.’ Tyler, who is likely no older than 3, says as he gestures to his back. 

‘Can you wiggle your toes for me?’ TK asks, glad Tyler is wearing sandals so he’ll be able to see. 

‘Like this?’ He asks, but his feet remain still.

‘Great job, buddy. Now can you do something really important for me?’ TK asks. He hates lying to patients. Especially to children, but he needs to keep Tyler calm, so he doesn’t injure himself further.

‘What?’ He asks.

‘Can you stay really, really still for me? Pretend you’re a statue.’

‘Ok.’

‘TK?’ Carlos calls out.

‘Can you stay here and stay really still while I check on your mom?’ TK asks, and Tyler says yes.

‘We have a pulse.’ Carlos tells TK as the woman slowly comes too.

‘Fantastic, can you go keep the little boy, Tyler, in the backseat calm.’ TK says and then lowers his voice. ‘I think he might have a spinal injury. It’s imperative that he doesn’t move until EMS can put a C Collar on him.’

It’s at that moment that a siren approaches. 

‘Dude, if you missed me this much, you could have called. Or better yet, not taken the shift off.’ Nancy tells TK as she and Captain Vega step out of the ambulance and rush over to assess the scene.

‘Apparently, the job goes where I go, Nancy. Can you check my new friend Tyler in the back seat?’

As Nancy checks the toddler, TK hands over the driver to Captain Vega, and they’re quick to load both patients into the ambulance. When they’re leaving, Nancy turns to TK.

‘The green suits you, but maybe less blood for the actual wedding?’ As she mentions blood, TK looks down to see the shirt sleeve stained red with blood. 

‘At least it’s not mine this time…,’ He muses.

‘You sure about that dude?’ She asks, and he looks again and, this time, notices the sleeve is redder. He’s cut his arm extracting the driver. As he makes a mental note to clean it when they get home, he's interrupted.

‘Oh no . The binder.’ Carlos cries out as EMS leave and as he picks up a squashed, tire-marked folder from the rubble of the crash.

‘You brought the wedding binder with you?’ TK asks, and he’s not sure why he’s surprised. However, he wouldn’t be surprised if Carlos had the entire thing committed to memory by now.

‘Of course, how else would I compare back to our mood board and top 5 color schemes? And now I’ve ruined everything by bringing it with us.’ Carlos asks, and TK can see every muscle in his body tense.

‘You taught me how to be loved, so I know everything you’ve planned will be perfect, binder or no binder.’

‘I just want everything to be perfect for the day I marry the most perfect man.’

‘Carlos, baby, It’s illegal to marry yourself. As a cop, you should know that.’ TK says with a smirk as he tenderly brushes a stray curl off Carlos’s face. 

‘Be serious, TK.’

‘I am being serious; you’re perfect. I’ll help you make a new binder.’ 

‘You’d help me make another binder?’ TK pulls Carlos close and kisses him passionately in place of an answer.

#TarlosWeek2022 #911 lone star #9-1-1 lone star #carlos reyes #tk strand #tarlos #fanfiction #my writing #my fic #ao3 #cross posted #9-1-1 lone star fic

[artaacari]

18. Roommates

- I can't believe that even after ten years I am forced to do this!

Although it was not possible to tell from Alya's appearance that she was unhappy with something. The spectacular brown-haired woman stood on the balcony of the hotel room and listened with interest to what was happening behind the walls of their neighbors. Namely, Marinette Dupen-Cheng and Adrian Agrest, who ended up in the same number as a result of an incredible coincidence of circumstances, to which the resourceful Alya Cesaire added a lot of effort.

Her own roommate, Nino Lahiffe, only smiled as he watched his girlfriend's efforts.

- Just admit it - you like to do it.

Alya quickly looked around, thought for a moment, and then made an innocent expression on her face.

- What exactly?

- Arrange Marinette's personal life, - sighed Nino, adjusting his glasses.

Although in his opinion, everything could have settled down after school, if Marinette herself had not made one bad decision. Although at the time it seemed more than right to her, and the young Ladybug could be completely understood.

Yes, Nino knew her secret, but he and Alya remained the closest associates of the heroine. Of course, except for Cat Noir, with whom everything was not so easy.

- There is something that I also really like, - added Alya meanwhile, squinting mysteriously.

In fact, Nino knew the answer. And she pleased him incredibly, but even after so many years spent together, he was always ready to play along with his irrepressible girlfriend.

- I hope for an exclusive interview with details.

- Then you will have to wait long hours until I return from the bathroom.

Nino has suspected for a long time that Alya continues to edit videos with superheroes secretly from him there - some of which seemed quite provocative. But each of them needed personal space even in such trifles.

- Then I will sort out our things - and don't even dare to worry when you can't find anything!

In response, a happy laugh rang out - because their joint searches often received a romantic continuation. So while Alya powdered her nose, Nino finally opened their largest suitcase.

And froze, looking down in shock. The suitcase also looked at him at once with two pairs of eyes of unexpected colors - yellow-green and purple.

- What are you doing here? - Nino hissed, hoping that Alya would not notice anything behind the noise of the water.

- Just try to say that kwami do not have the right to vacation! – get angry Trixx.

Wayzz was not so confident, but nodded, agreeing with her friend. Or the vixen threatened him with something that no kwami, even with invincible power, could not agree to.

- And who guards Paris? - said Nino. – Marinette and Adrien are here too.

- We agreed with Caprikid and Rooster Bold, - Trixx reported. - Don't worry, they have very strong talismans, they can handle any villain.

Nino also had no doubt that they would manage, but who would neutralize the consequences of the battle? In the absence of Ladybug, Rena could at least cover them with an illusion.

It seems that very unexpected news from home will soon await them.

The bathroom door creaked, so Nino quickly closed the suitcase, muttering to the kwami:

- So that we don't hear you!

- How are your successes there? - Alya asked.

It was difficult to quickly come up with a plausible explanation for why he didn't do anything. I had to say the first thing that came to mind.

- But why do we need those things! Let's rest and go to the beach in the evening, okay?

Such a plan for the evening completely suited Alya. They watched a movie together on her smartphone and imperceptibly fell asleep hugging each other on the wide bed.

That's why no one saw the two shadows making their way to the balcony, dragging a towel behind them and arguing:

- Nino asked us to be here!

- You are a turtle! You must love moonlight bathing from birth!

#miraculous fanfic #djwifi #alya cesaire #nino lahiffe #djwifi december

[sexyvampkitty]

RP Mini-Solo 21: 'Baby It's Cold Outside'

I open my eyes and shift a bit in Damon's arms...attempting to gain a more comfortable position...while trying not to wake him in the process. Judging from the moaning and groaning sounds that he was making earlier in the night...he was having a 'really' good dream...probably a sex dream...and I'd rather not disturb his rest. At least 'one' of us is able to get some. Me? I've been lying here...for the past...I have 'no' clue how many hours...alternating between keeping my eyes closed...attempting to doze off...and keeping them open...staring up at the ceiling. It's totally useless. No matter how hard I try...I just can't seem to get to sleep. There are 'way' too many thoughts spinning around in my head right now...which is an odd occurrence with my emotions off. I guess my humanity switch is in flicker mode again. Awesome. Also...screw this. I carefully disentangle myself from Damon's arms...and climb out of bed. Wearing one of his shirts...and nothing else...I walk across the room...able to see perfectly in the dark...obviously...bending down to retrieve my discarded panties off of the floor and pulling them up as I make my way to the door. There's no need to walk around the house naked...just in case someone else might happen to be around...like Stefan...or Elena...or Damon's daughter...Delena. Having other people in the house is 'definitely' something that I'm not used to. My first boyfriend lived alone...since his brother had recently abandoned him...for whatever reason...I don't remember anymore. My ex husband lived with his brother...one of the Stefan twins...but I never saw him in the house. Weird. It was the same with my last boyfriend and my 'special' friend with benefits. I never saw anyone else around. I pause with my hand on the door...hearing a slight noise behind me. I turn to look over my shoulder...thinking that I might have woken Damon after all...but I breathe out an actual sigh of relief as he rolls over...facing away from me...obviously still deep in slumber. Tiptoeing as quietly as I can...I leave the room and go back downstairs...entering the parlor to be greeted by sparkling Christmas lights...both dazzling white and brightly colored. The large tree taking up residence in the center of the room is also lit. Hmmm...either Elena is here...Stefan came back...or...Damon forgot to turn the lights off before he chased me upstairs...oh. Wait. That's right. He was kind of...preoccupied. We've spent most of our time so far in bed...not to mention the shower...then right back to the bed again. I walk across the large expanse of room...over to the curtains...parting them to peek out through the windows. It's snowing outside...thick and heavy...coating the ground in what looks like a soft, fluffy cloud as far as the eye can see. Hmmm...it was snowing last year too...when I happened to partake in my mini pre-Christmas massacre...after my first boyfriend had disappeared on me...again. My lips curve up into an evil smirk as visuals spring into the forefront of my mind...the white snow suddenly turning bright crimson...and two people screaming in utter terror...a man...and a woman...probably his wife. Without a care in the world...since my humanity was off then too...I killed her while he watched...tearing her throat out right in front of him...following that up with tearing her head off...then...I ripped his heart out...leaving both of their lifeless bodies on the ground as I walked away. Ahhh...good times. My lips quickly dip into a frown as I'm yanked right back into my present situation...and those three little words uttered by Damon in the shower earlier. That took me completely by surprise. After all...we've only just met...even if we've already had sex...twice. How can he possibly love me already? And do I love him back? Possibly...but...with my emotions still off...for the most part...I'm not allowing myself to admit how I might or might not feel...so...how can I ever admit it to him? And I don't know if I'll ever be able to say those three little words back. Again...I know that part of that is because of my humanity switch currently holding me back...and...the other part is because...every other man...Damon twin...so far...who has told me that he loved me...either disappeared on me...divorced me...or just plain dumped me...four times now in fact...and I 'really' don't want to experience a fifth. Does he want me to be his girlfriend? I'm not quite sure...but I suspect he wants more than what we just had...sex that is...and...a small part of me thinks that he feels as if he might have always loved me...as crazy as that sounds. Love at first sight? Yeah...I've been there before...four times...and it never worked out so great on any of those. Anyway...I have 'no' idea what the future might hold. I'm better off focusing on the here and now. My somewhat troubled thoughts are suddenly interrupted by the feeling of strong arms wrapped around my waist from behind. Damon. My...I'm not sure what to call him yet. He must've finally woken when he realized that I was no longer in the bed with him. I let out another sigh...leaning back against his still naked chest...letting out a low snicker...followed by a delicious shiver as I feel his hardness poking me through his boxers. Damn. He's silent for a few moments...then asks me what's wrong...and...even though I'm not facing him...I can tell that there's a frown currently settled over his features. I give him silence in return...not sure what to say at this particular time and place...but...the reaction that I'm about to have...is one that I'm 'so' not expecting. In another rare show of emotion...a clear sign that my damn humanity switch is once again malfunctioning...big time...I begin to sob...unable to hold back the tears as they stream down my face. I can feel Damon's arms tighten in response around me...his lips brushing against my ear...whispering cooing type words in an attempt to calm me down...telling me that everything will be okay...almost the sort of thing one would do with a small child...his daughter perhaps? Although...strangely...I don't mind it. He obviously didn't know how else to react either. I keep right on crying...safe in his arms...as the both of us stare out into the night...watching the steadily falling snow...the warm glow of the lights flickering off of the frost-covered windows. Finally...my tears begin to ebb...and Damon picks me up in his arms...carrying me back upstairs and placing me gently upon the bed. He then climbs in after me...and I snuggle up next to him...lie my head on his chest...let my eyes slip closed...and start to drift off to sleep...his strong arms once again wrapped securely around me. Screw it. The conversation about my future...our future...whatever...can wait until tomorrow... [END]

#tvd #roleplay

[tetsvhoe]

MISCOMMUNICATIONS

ask

character/s: suna rintaro, miya atsumu x gn!reader

genre/s: just a smidge of angst to fluff

warning/s: suna thinks you’re cheating (ofc that’s not the case)

gwen’s notes 🤍: i’m trying to finish as many suggestions as i can, couldn’t will myself to finish tendou’s part so i’ll post another part (hopefully i don’t forget)

MASTERLIST | TAGLIST

suna rintaro’s lack in expressiveness he makes up for with his perception, not that it makes the situation any better. he tends to overanalyze things, though he’s right most of the time, he would never try and communicate about what’s bothering him.

you’ve been on your phone a lot lately, your number’s always busy when he tries to call you, you say it’s because you’re on call with your friends and you’re playing a game, but he could have sworn you knew next to nothing about gaming unless he had to teach you, you take longer to reply than usual, and his mind just goes to the worst.

he finally snaps when his head is laying on your lap and instead of you gingerly running your fingers through his hair while you ramble about your day and he hums “mhm” and “ahuh, then what happened,”, your nose is shoved into your phone, too distracted to even notice him staring at you in disbelief.

he sits himself up, shoving your arms out of the way and turns his back on you.

“rin, what’s wrong?” you finally speak up, locking your phone and placing it on your lap screen down.

“nothing, just go back to whatever it is you’re doing.”

“it doesn’t seem like nothing. come on, rin. talk to me?” you plead, reaching for his arm which he jerks away from you all too quickly.

“talk is a big word for you, y/n. i’ve been here for over an hour and you only wanna talk now?” he sneers, throwing you a brief but sharp glare before he stands and makes his way out the door.

“rin—”

he turns on his heel before reaching for the knob, “you know what, save us both the time and effort and just tell me right now if you’re talking to someone else.”

your face contorts to a frown, in hurt and confusion, tears burn at the back of your eyes and threaten to spill. “what even are you ta—”

“well i don’t know what else to think! who are you on call with at ungodly hours in the night, why are you always so busy on your phone!?”

your mouth falls slack at the realization, a strangled laugh escaping as your head dips. suna seethes at the sight of you, what’s so funny?

“you absolute dimwit!” it comes out a cross between a chuckle and a sob and you wipe your tears with the back of your hand. “well i guess i don’t have a choice but to tell you now, huh?” he raises an eyebrow, unimpressed. “i bought you this new game you kept talking about, i had some of my friends teach me how to play so we can play it together.”

suna’s face drains of color as he feels his stomach drop. he feels terrible but you open your arms right as he starts blabbering for a frantic apology and he all but runs into your arms. you feel his tense body relax against your touch when you return his tight hug.

“shit, i’m such an idiot. i’m sorry.”

“you ruined the surprise.”

“that’s the least you should be worrying about right now, i literally accused you of cheating,” he lifts his head to look you in the eyes, distraught evident in his features. you let out an empathetic smile, fixating on the little hairs sticking out of his head.

“which is why i tell you it’s so important for you to tell me what you’re feeling.”

“i know, i’m sorry. i’ll keep that in mind.” he buries his face to your side again, letting the silence calm both of you. “so, can we play the game right now? i bet you’re still shit at it after all those hours you spent practicing.”

miya atsumu will bottle his emotions up until they explode, and this time is no different. he admits it’s something he needs to work on, but he can only take so much when there’s so much pressure on his shoulders, especially as an important game quickly approaches. he feels like the world is closing in on him and he needs you, but you feel so far away always tucked away with piles of textbooks and paperwork without so much as a “good morning” or a “welcome home” day in and day out.

he pokes his head through your bedroom door and finds you slouched over your desk in front of your computer like the usual, you don’t even hear him come in until he calls out your name.

“didn’t see you there, love. how was practice?”

he huffs sarcastically through his nose, making his way straight to the closet to get a change of clothes without looking at you. “you never seem to see me these days, don’t you think?”

you twirl your chair around to his direction, eyebrows knitted together. “what’s that supposed to mean?”

“i don’t know,” he mumbles rummaging through his clothes.

“well why would you say something like that, then? i’m over here busy with—”

“yeah, yeah i know you’re busy. you think i don’t notice how busy you are that you can’t even give me the time of day?” he finally turns to you, harshly clutching at the fabric in his hands until his knuckles turn white.

you gasp incredulously, mirroring the glare he gives you. “you inconsiderate idiot. do you have any idea why i’m working myself to death with these requirements?”

“oh, now i’m the inconsiderate one? come on, y/n i know we’re both busy but how can you be so busy that you don’t see how much i need you right now?” his voice fades to a mere whisper towards the end and your heart tugs in your chest. you slowly walk over to him, taking his face into your palms to lift his head and look him in his teary eyes. “i’m sorry, i didn’t mean to. i-it’s just that this upcoming game, a-and i miss you so much, and i’m tired,” he sighs, head falling onto your shoulder.

“oh, my love. i’m sorry if i wasn’t there for you. i was trying to finish my work early so i could be there for your game,” you soothe him, drawing circles on his back.

“really?” he sniffles, puppy eyes gazing up at you.

“really.”

“great, now i feel even worse,” he grumbles lightheartedly before he straightens himself up. “i really shouldn’t have talked to you that way, i know this is important to you.”

you gently wipe a stray tear away from his face with a gentle smile. “you’re important to me.” he rolls his eyes jokingly before he wraps his arms around your waist, nuzzling his face on the crook of your neck, his tears warm against your skin. “but we have to work on your communication with me, hm?”

he nods almost immediately. “yes, i promise. i’m sorry but can you please take a short break for me now, i just need you.”

“of course.”

reblogs appreciated !

#—out of spite; gwen #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu angst #haikyuu fluff #suna x reader #atsumu x reader #suna angst #suna fluff #atsumu angst #atsumu fluff #hq x reader #hq angst #hq fluff #suna rintaro x reader #suna rintaro angst #suna rintaro fluff #miya atsumu x reader #miya atsumu angst #miya atsumu fluff #istg if this doesn't show up on tags again

[echo-of-sounds]

their type

Headcanons on what Aizawa's, Toshinori's, and Hizashi's types are. Part two (with Tai, Kugo, Ryo, and Vlad) is coming either tomorrow or Wednesday.

Ah, it's been so long since I posted something! I'm so sorry.

And before people send in asks like, "You said X. Does that mean he wouldn't be interested in Y?", I want to clarify that these are just their general types/what they're usually attracted to. It doesn't mean they would never be interested in people who don't fall within these lines.

Aizawa Shouta

Quiet. Calm. Relaxed. Shouta needs someone who isn’t constantly running in circles and stressing him more. So much of his day is spent around big personalities and scrambling, excitable teenagers that he’d have trouble with someone who is exactly like that all the time. He needs time to unwind.

Sho needs someone understanding of him and his personality. He’s gruff, a bit odd at times, and not a conversationalist. Many don’t think of those traits when picturing their ‘perfect partner.’ He isn’t into PDA. He doesn’t want to change how he dresses. He doesn’t like getting forced into a lot of activities, especially if you surprise him with them. Don’t keep trying to hold his hand or invade his space or pressure him to dress a certain way. If you can’t respect who he is and what he’s comfortable with, he’s going to get fed up quickly, and he isn’t afraid to end the relationship if his wants and needs aren’t being respected.

Mothering, to a certain extent, is attractive to him. Now, he doesn’t expect you to do all the housework, clean his clothes, and have dinner on the table every night. He’s an adult. He knows his responsibilities and what should be shared when in a relationship. But when someone thinks of things he doesn’t do due to stress and exhaustion, it makes his heart just a bit lighter. Slip a protein bar into his gym bag. Bring him water when he’s on a grading spree. Throw a sweatshirt over his shoulders just before he leaves. The small things add up.

You need to have independence. His job hours are in no way ideal. They’re difficult for him and the people in his life. And so, he can’t be bothered with a partner who can’t take care of themselves. You must be able to function alone and make decisions by yourself. You’re an adult, and he isn’t your babysitter.

Honestly, the simplest one is: just be kind. Hold the door open for someone. Ask others if they need help. Show that you care for others and yourself. While he may not admit it, he thinks compassion and thoughtfulness are some of the most attractive things a person can do and be. The world is hard. That makes being kind even harder. And he respects those that make a sincere effort to do it.

Attitudes, impatience, whininess, and overt sarcasm are four things Shouta does not tolerate. He can handle them to an extent. Restlessness and feeling fidgety (Hizashi is his closest friend after all) are understandable, and he’s no stranger to the occasional snarky retort and brashness. But he cannot and will not deal with people who constantly pout, put their importance above others, and act immature. Don’t backtalk every little thing because you can. It’s rude. Don’t stomp your foot when you don’t get everything you want. Don’t whine because plans changed. Yes, it sucks. But don’t act a fool.

Yagi Toshinori

Toshinori isn’t put off by any specific personalities or characteristics. His job required, and still requires to a certain extent, a high level of tolerance for every type of person out there. And he’s gotten plenty of hugs and compliments from fans and praise from the media, but none of that is what he wants: intimacy. He wants someone who can provide him with trust, warmth, adoration, concern, and understanding, and he wants to give all of that back tenfold. He wants to confide in someone at night. He wants affection. He just wants love.

When it comes to appearances, femininity is very attractive to him. It doesn’t matter your gender; soft colors (specifically pinks, purples, and creams), lace, frills, and florals always catch his eye. Delicate necklaces, especially when they highlight your collarbones, and charming hairstyles also draw his attention. Other than that, he’s open-minded. Quirks provide a wide range of appearances, and so doesn’t individual taste. He’s acceptive of everyone’s differences.

In terms of romance, he does tend to find himself gravitating towards more tender-hearted, genuine people. His life has been exhausting, filled with overbearing personalities who are ready to fight at the drop of a hat. Those who are softer, calmer — who just want to spend a few days relaxing on a quiet beach or spend their weekend indoors, watching movies — are beyond refreshing after a career such as his.

Passion and ambition are beautiful. Even if you struggle along the way to your goal, have bumps, and think of giving up, but you keep going, is everything he wants to see in someone. Toshi wants to hear your flurry when you prattle on about your favorite topic. He wants to see your excitement when you get a new book or puzzle or whatever interests you. It doesn’t matter how ‘lame’ it is to others. Be ecstatic. Life is too short to not appreciate and indulge your interests and goals.

Being a listener is a must. If you can’t take the time to sit down and just listen, the relationship will never work. He knows you aren’t a therapist there to solve all his problems. He wants someone he can trust in with the difficult parts of life. His body isn’t healthy, and it’s only getting worse. Anxiety, nightmares, eating troubles plague him every day. The future, his life, isn’t guaranteed into the coming years. If you can listen, be there when he opens up, support him when he cries, it’d mean the world to him. Be his confidante. He doesn’t have anyone else.

To go along with that, communication between you two is equally as important. You don’t have to send daily reports spanning five pages. Toshi is just looking for someone willing to be open and share their feelings with him. If you had a bad day, tell him about it. If you can’t respond with words, emojis are just fine. Don’t hide from him. Let him be a part of your world like you're a part of his.

Yamada Hizashi

It’s so easy for Hizashi to get along with many different people. Grumpy, bouncy, sarcastic, or quiet? He’s able to be your friend. What really captures his attention is when people show interest in his work/hobbies, especially music. Ask a few questions and he’ll be blabbering on for hours.

For appearances, he has an interest in distinct hairstyles. If you experiment with colors, style your hair in cool ways, or just look different in some way, his eyes are following you down the street. Piercings and tattoos are also up there. Industrial ear, septum, and nipple piercings are his favorites. Sleek or distinctively designed tattoos are sexy to him. He just appreciates those with unique and altered appearances.

One big trait he looks for is adventurous — including sexually adventurous. Hizashi is mentally and physically regularly on the go. He needs someone who can keep up. He wants to try new foods, visit new places, go to concerts, attempt skydiving, possibly scuba diving, and maybe move when he’s older. And sometimes, a simple day at the zoo or beach is alright too. You don’t need to go with him everywhere. If you can’t make one or two adventures, he understands. All he really asks for is your support. Don’t chide him, call him childish, or berate him for wasting money.

Kind of going along with sexually adventurous, physical touch is also needed in his relationships. Cuddling, touching, and sex are important to him; he’s a physical guy, and it comes out in many ways. He knows everyone has different comfort levels of snuggling. And he understands if you two don’t jump into sex right away. Some people need time for various reasons. However, if you never want to cuddle and/or have sex, then he’s going to struggle. Physical touch is an incredibly important part of a relationship with him. He craves it, and if he can’t get it from his partner, then he’s going to end things.

Creativity! Hizashi recognizes and loves all forms of innovation and artistry. Baking, painting, writing, sewing, dancing (which he finds all styles incredibly beautiful), design, photography, and, most important to him, music! It doesn’t matter if you only dabble in it. Simply using your imagination to create something from nothing is engaging.

Hizashi typically finds it easier to understand and be understood by other neurodivergent people. ADHD is difficult to manage. It isn’t cute or quirky. He’s learned to hide and cope with most of the symptoms, but the inattention and hyperactivity are there every day, and they affect every part of his life. He needs someone who understands them — someone who won’t get angry when he asks you to repeat yourself seven times or frustrated when he’s a bit too jittery and annoying.

Take care of spiders and bugs for him.

#aizawa shouta #aizawa x reader #all might #all might x reader #yagi toshinori #toshinori x reader #present mic #present mic x reader #yamada hizashi #hizashi x reader #bnha #bnha x reader #bnha headcanons

[noteguk]

bad behavior | jjk | m

This is in the same universe as “bad influence.” It can, however, be read as a stand-alone. 

— summary; in which staying late to volunteer at a self-help meeting was the best decision you made in a while. 

— contents and warnings; smut, the endless adventures of badboy!jk x goodgirl!reader, public sex (in a church…), dirty talk, fingering, degradation (name calling) but also praise, unprotected sex, clothed sex, creampie, cum play, there is a window and also reflections, rough sex, cockwarming, jk being a lil shit because that’s his main personality trait, jk smokes (only mentioned), enemies to fuckbuddies: dawn of the first day 

— words; 8.2k

— author’s note; for the anon that asked how their first time was like ;) join me as we explore the lore of this godforsaken couple 

It was your mother’s idea for you to find a new place to volunteer. According to her, it had been a long time since you experienced “the invigorating energy of community work” — last time was when you were trying to level up your college application — and it could really “soothe your anxious soul” during the trying times of college finals. Apparently one tutoring program and two research projects weren’t enough to distract you, but you could see where she was coming from. 

In the end, you accepted. The old places you used to volunteer in had either shut off their programs or were just too far away from college for you to consider. At first, you decided to follow your mother’s suggestion and tried to work with children — “small miracles”, as she called them — in a local daycare. Which ended up being a terrible idea. 

You liked giving back to the community, you really did, but it wasn’t long until you realized that working with infants hasn’t been your wisest decision, and that children weren’t miracles at all. You got tired of going home covered in paint and with pieces of playdough entangled in your hair, and that was when you weren’t unlucky enough to get hit with other, less clean fluids. 

So you eventually gave up — both on the daycare and on the faint idea of one day going into pediatrics — and searched for a new place. After having to yell your way through retirement homes, and getting fed up with washing people’s sidewalks, you finally settled in a program that was flexible and light enough for your intense college hours: preparing (and then later cleaning up) a room that was reserved in a local church for weekly meetings. 

The entire ordeal took about two to three hours off your day, and more than half of it was spent as free time: waiting for the meeting to end, cramming piles of information in a small room next door. You didn’t really know what the meetings were about since they changed practically every month — they were, at first, a support group for teenage mothers, then it became an AA meeting, then a group for drug users trying to quit. Lately, you were starting to think that the church just gave away the room for whoever had the money to rent it, so it wasn’t a surprise when it was reserved for a motivational speaker to give confidence lessons. 

You had researched the guy, some old dude with an unpronounceable name and a sketchy background, and found exactly the type of person you had expected. Yes, you were in the house of Christ, but you were still being heavily judgmental of the fact that he was giving those talks when he had no qualifications whatsoever, and was probably making bank off all the self-help books he regurgitated at least twice a year to prey on vulnerable people. You did share your worries with the administrative office of the church, but they ultimately fell on deaf ears, and you gave up on the idea of kicking his ass out of the holy grounds anytime soon. 

It was after one of those pseudo-motivational talks that you walked into the empty room, ready to clean everything up before rushing back to your place, where your roommate had promised to greet you with some wonderful takeout. The chairs were still placed in a circle on the center of the room, where they had been since forever, and you made sure to align them perfectly before you moved on to the litter that had been thrown around the place. 

One good thing about those self-help meetings was that they were a lot cleaner than a lot of other attendees, so the “picking up the trash until your back started to hurt” part passed by surprisingly fast. You had just moved on to the snack table, analyzing what you could still save, when your soul almost left your body. 

“Hey, you,” you heard a known voice behind you. “What are you doing in here?”

You swiftly turned around, heart thumping violently against your ribcage. You didn’t know how you hadn’t let out the biggest, most blood-curdling scream ever, but that was just the first of many miracles of the night. “Jesus Christ,” you wheezed out, taking one hand to your chest. “You shouldn’t sneak up on people like this.” You swallowed dry, some part of your brain recalling that he had asked you a question. “And I’m volunteering here.” 

“I didn’t sneak up on you, you’re just jumpy.” Jungkook scoffed, leaning against the doorframe with that stupid playful smirk curling up on his lips. You didn’t know they allowed demons inside the church. “And of course you are.” He rolled his eyes. 

Maybe a few months back, his mocking tone would’ve stung a bit more. However, you had been tutoring Jungkook for about three months then, suffering through endless sessions of his whining and complaining, and you’ve grown used to his passive-aggressive antics already. You learned that Jungkook was a shark seeking for blood, waiting for any crack that would allow him to jump into a perverse little joke — about how you behaved, your priorities, or even the color of your highlighter. You, of course, always stood your ground and threw his comments right back at him — which was his initial plan, as you’ve come to realize. Jungkook enjoyed playfully arguing with you, and you thought that it was another level of strangeness and masochism you simply didn’t have time to dissect. 

Still, Jungkook (shockingly) wasn’t the terrible person you once thought he was. Every once in a while — when he was trying to talk you out of teaching him — the conversations you two would have were actually mostly pleasant, and he wasn’t awful to hang around when he dropped the whole badass persona to act like a real human being. You would even dare to say that Jungkook could be actually funny at times, and not in the bitter, sarcastic way he usually was. Sometimes, you dared to think, he could actually be reasonably nice. And also kind of cute. Even hot. 

But you would never actually admit any of that out loud. Or even to yourself, really. 

“And you?” You asked, turning back around to face the table full of half-eaten food. That looked like a battlefield, and you could already tell that there were only a few survivors left standing. “What are you doing here? Repenting?” 

Jungkook chuckled dryly. “You wish. My parents want me to quit smoking,” he said. You could not see him, but you could hear him walking closer to you as you fumbled with the large Tupperware. “We settled on this crap instead of a forced intervention.” 

You scoffed. Most of the food before you was unsalvageable — some of the cupcakes had been bitten once and then placed back, and you wondered how someone like that could function in society. “You don’t seem very motivated to quit,” you mumbled. 

Jungkook clicked his tongue. “I don’t really care.” 

His voice was much closer to you, and you felt the air leaving your lungs for a pitiful instant. You convinced yourself you had only gotten scared again. “You should care about the growing possibility of lung cancer.” 

He shrugged. “Maybe. But it’s not really on the top of my list of priorities at the moment.” 

“And what is?” You asked. 

“Amongst other things…” he trailed off and, suddenly, he was standing besides you, pointing at the chaotic pile of sweets. “I actually came back to grab another one of those cupcakes. The chocolate ones are great.” 

You didn’t know why, but his comment broke the odd tension that you didn’t even know that was there, clicking you back into your previous mentality — the one that you just wanted to finish cleaning up so you could leave soon. “All yours,” you told him, “grab as many as you want.” 

Jungkook hummed in satisfaction, reaching out to grab one special brown cupcake — an untouched one, thankfully. “I love when you talk dirty.” He almost moaned before shoving the cupcake inside his mouth, taking a huge bite off it. Dramatically, Jungkook rolled his eyes and sighed in delight. “These are fucking great.” 

You chuckled, glancing at his direction. Jungkook was dressed in all black, like he usually was, and you were starting to recognize a newfound admiration towards his constant use of leather jackets. What? He looked good. “I’m glad the self-help sessions are paying off,” you commented, swiftly placing the cupcakes inside the transparent container. 

Jungkook was paying attention to your actions now, like he noticed you were there working for the first time. “What are you doing with the rest?”

“The church will probably donate it, give it to the homeless or something.” You shrugged. “Or they’ll eat it, I don’t know. I just clean up the place and leave.” 

Jungkook laughed at that, taking another monstrous bite from his cupcake and throwing himself on one of the nearby chairs. Your eye twitched a little at the thought that he had ruined your perfect circle, but you’d have to fix that on your way out. “Sounds absurdly boring,” he sang. “And they’re not even paying you.” 

You sighed. “After all the places I’ve volunteered in, boring is a blessing,” you told him. You had just placed five hot dogs in the container, and you were starting to wonder if it would be a good idea to feed people in need with those suspicious sausages. “But, yeah, you probably don’t care about any of that.” 

“You don’t know what I care about,” Jungkook said matter-of-factly. You didn’t know if he was trying to tease you, but his voice came out so soft and monotone that you couldn’t really be mad about it. It was true, after all: you didn’t actually know what he cared about. Sometimes you thought that he could read you better than you could read him. “Want me to stay here with you? This place is probably empty already.”

You could not hold back your laugh at that, turning around so you could look at him. “Are you offering to be my bodyguard? In a church?” 

Jungkook pouted. There was a thin line of chocolate on the side of his lips, which he quickly licked clean. “I’m trying to be nice.”

You giggled, turning back towards the disgusting food. The rest was mostly trash, but you were happy enough with the amount you had managed to find in a good state. “That’s new.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?” He asked. “I’m always nice.”

“Always is a strong word.” You smiled, closing the lid of the Tupperware. You had managed to fill three small containers with the leftovers and, honestly, that was a big victory. “But you can stay or you can leave, I don’t mind. I’m almost done anyways.” 

He frowned. “Is that your answer?” 

You turned around. “What? You want me to beg for your company?” You smiled. “You’re mistaken if you think I’d ever do that.”

“I’m staying.” Jungkook crumpled up the piece of cupcake wrapping and threw it in the trash can besides your body. He watched you for a moment as you started to throw the leftovers away, your back turned to him and a distracted look on your face. When he broke the silence again, you were throwing the last piece of bread in the bin. “Why are you volunteering?” 

“Because I like giving back to the community.” 

Jungkook sneered at your words. “Seriously now. Don’t lie, we’re in a church.” 

“I do, actually,” you stood your ground. There was a vague sound of crickets coming from the half-open window and the low buzzing of the fluorescent lights above you, but, other than that, the city was covered in absolute silence. Perhaps that was why you felt so at peace. “But my mom told me it would be a good thing to keep myself relaxed. You know, take my mind off college stuff.” 

He hummed, and you heard him getting up from the chair. “You always do what your mom tells you?” 

You met his gaze. “Didn’t your parents make you come here?”

He smiled. “Not the point.” 

Before you could hold yourself back, your lips were curling up. Again: Jungkook wasn’t absolutely awful to be around when he actually acted like a human being. “When she says something I agree with, yes,” you told him. “My ego isn’t bruised when it comes to following someone’s idea.” 

He raised his eyebrows. “You’re saying that mine is?”

“I didn’t say that.” You smirked and turned back to the table. You started piling up the used plastic cups, already eyeing all the used plates, forks and knives that you’d have to throw away. The daycare had better eating manners than that. “Thought we were talking about me.” 

“We were,” Jungkook agreed. One of his inked hands moved to the table, and you were about to tell him that he could eat more of the cupcakes when you realized that he had started to reach for the discardable plates, throwing them away. You really didn’t think he’d help you. “Finals are coming up, though, and you care about that shit. Shouldn’t you be using this time to study or something?”

“I study while you’re out here listening to becoming your real self or, I don’t know... waking up the giant within,” you said. “I’m fine, don’t worry about it.” 

He hummed, his nose cringing up at the disgusting remains of food that stuck to the plastic forks. Jungkook seriously didn’t know how you could do that for fun. “You know there are better ways to relax than cleaning up a dusty room, right?” 

“Probably,” you agreed. The cups were already in the trash, alongside with the plates, and there were only a few crumpled up napkins to get rid of before you tasted the sweet nectar of freedom. “But here I am. That’s what I chose for myself.” 

“Literally any other option would’ve been better,” Jungkook pressed on. “Isn’t that obnoxious friend of yours in cheer or something?” 

“Who? Jisoo?” You smiled at him. No one had ever called her obnoxious, but you couldn’t say that the title didn’t fit. Jisoo could be really… intense when it came to standing up for what she believed in. “She is. She invited me to join her already, if that’s what you’re gonna ask, but it’s not really my thing.” 

“It’s a shame,” he mumbled, leaning against the table. It was a beautiful miracle how clean that room had become just by getting rid of the piles of gross food, and you had proudly thrown the last piece of paper inside the trash bin when Jungkook spoke up again. “You’d look really hot in that outfit.” 

You stopped in your tracks, taking a second to digest the claim he had so mindlessly thrown your way. Just like all-things-Jungkook, a pleasant conversation could not last long, so you weren’t even surprised that he managed to ruin that talk with such a fuckboy-esque comment. 

Also like all-things-Jungkook, he managed to awaken a reaction out of you that you didn’t even know could be there. With a faint heat in your cheeks and a frown blossoming amongst your features, you actually felt a little bit of... satisfaction with the fact that he thought that you’d look hot in that skimpy outfit. At the same time, you wanted to slap yourself for falling into his charms so easily. 

In that conflicting turmoil of emotions, all you could say was a monotone, “You cannot be serious right now.”

Even if you kind of wanted him to be serious. 

“I’m being dead serious,” Jungkook didn’t back down, much to the elation of your ego. You felt like a schoolgirl being recognized by her crush, and the idea alone made your stomach curl onto itself. What the hell were you even thinking about? Yeah, Jungkook was pretty hot, but he was also kind of a douche and you didn’t want to get involved with that mess of a person. Or at least that was what you were trying to convince yourself of. “I mean…” he continued, “you’re even rocking this knee-level dress right now, can’t even imagine how you’d look if—“ 

“You can shut up now, Jungkook, thanks,” you interrupted him. Because you didn’t know how to act when he was so blatantly flirting with you, you switched back to the same passive-aggressive behavior that you had given him for the past three months. Call it self-preservation, call it panic, but your mind simply didn’t know where to go from there. “And I’m also done here, so you can skidaddle back to whatever swamp you came out of.” 

“Awn, don’t be mean, princess.” He pouted. Jungkook was a master at getting you worked up, and you had just given that to him on a silver platter. Maybe if you had mock-flirted back, he would’ve baked away. You would never know. “I was just fucking with you, you’re too easy to tease.” 

You pressed your lips together, hip touching the corner of the now empty table. “You were pretty much harassing me,” you said playfully. 

“I was not.” Jungkook smirked, shoving his hands inside the pockets of his pants. When had the two of you gotten so close? There was barely any space between your chests. “But it’s okay, I’m not gonna compliment you anymore, don’t worry. You don’t have to be so defensive.” 

“I’m not being defensive,” you said, defensive. 

“What, is it the church setting?” He raised his eyebrows, taking a look around. “Is it making you uncomfortable?” 

“No,” you answered, crossing your arms before your chest. Jungkook followed the movement and his gaze got stuck on the shape of your breasts for a second too long, making a newfound wave of heat rise up to your cheeks. “Not as much as you’re trying to make me uncomfortable right now.” 

He chuckled. “You do look cute when you’re shy,” Jungkook teased, taking a step towards you, and you took another one back, pretending you were just going to lean against the table. You sat on it in a weird diagonal position, with one leg still on the ground and the other dangling over the edge. Jungkook was so close that, when he spoke again, voice just above a whisper, you could feel his breath on your skin. “If you don’t want me here, just ask me to go and I’ll go.” 

You opened your mouth to respond, but no words came out. The atmosphere was filled with electricity, your body drowning in the warmth of his presence, the sharp seriousness in his dark eyes, and you could not bring yourself to say anything. Did you want him to leave? 

No, you realized in a rush of adrenaline, you didn’t want him to leave at all. 

Jungkook raised one of his eyebrows. “Hm? Nothing?” He smirked, placing himself between your legs. Every nerve of your body was screaming for you to touch him, to just wrap his mouth with yours, and you simply could not respond to any of its commands. “You’re full of surprises.” 

You found your voice at that comment, heart hammering against your chest. “What’s that supposed to mean?” 

“You’re a smart girl, you can figure it out.” Jungkook placed one strand of your hair behind your ear, his gaze flickering down to your chest. From where he stood, he could see the beautiful mounds of your breasts peeking under the fabric, licking his lips at the sight. “Can I at least say that I like your dress?” 

Jungkook’s palm slithered up your knee before you could even react, moving towards your inner thigh and raising your dress along with it. His touch was electrifying, and you found yourself craving more of it, a sigh caught on your throat at the tenderness of his hot skin. 

“Something tells me that your compliment isn’t so innocent,” you told him, leaning your head back slightly so you could hold his gaze. “Aren’t you gonna complete that and say that I would look better without it?”

Jungkook chuckled. “The idea is compelling, I’ll admit it,” he said, rubbing soft circles on your skin. His other hand slithered around your waist, pulling you closer to him. “But don’t need to take it off to fuck you.” 

Your eyes grew wide at that, brain short-circuiting. You frankly couldn’t believe that was happening — the fact that Jungkook was so shamelessly trying (and honestly succeeding) to initiate sex with you. In a fucking church too, of all places. “What- what did you say?”

“You heard what I said.” His stare didn’t falter. Jungkook was looking at you like he could eat you whole, and you seriously wouldn’t mind if he tried to. You'd deal with the social and psychological implications of that another time. “Just tell me to stop and I’ll do it, princess. No hard feelings, promise.” 

This time, you spoke out and the firmness and certainty in your voice surprised even yourself. “I don’t want you to stop.” 

“No?” His voice sounded like honey, so deep and melodic even through the thick layers of his sarcasm. You had never heard him get so serious, so focused, and the thought that it was all for you was igniting a fire inside your guts. “You wanna get fucked in a church?” 

You bit your lip, blinking up at him. The point was: you wanted Jungkook, of all people, to fuck you. The fact that it was in a church was just the cherry on top, and you didn’t care about it as much as you should — your mom would be weeping blood if she knew what was going on, but you weren’t planning on telling anything to anybody. “And what if I do?” You asked back teasingly. 

Jungkook smiled, knocking the breath right out of you. You could only hope that you didn’t look as horny as you felt, because your pride was still on the line. “Told you that you were full of surprises.” He pushed one of your legs open, making you lose your support on the floor. Now, both of your feet were dangling off the edge, body trapped between his strong arms and thighs on either side of him. “Are you a virgin, baby?”

You shook your head, and your voice reached you a bit later. “No.”

“Naughty,” Jungkook said, leaning in. He stared at you like a lion stalking its prey, his gaze lingering on your parted lips before, at last, he tilted his head to the side, deciding to move towards your neck instead. “But if you have the taste I think you do, you probably had some lame missionary sex with some goodie-two shoes.” 

When he started kissing your neck, you almost forgot to give him a response. You had to bite your lip to suppress a moan, instead producing a low, shaky sigh. “And if I did? What’s the problem with some lame missionary sex?” 

“No need to get mad, I’m on your side here,” Jungkook said, one of his hands navigating up your waist, between the valley of your breasts, before grabbing your boob. That time, you couldn’t hold back the whimper that escaped you. “Did he make you cum?” 

“Sometimes,” you said, slightly flustered. You didn’t think you’d be discussing your sexual history with Jungkook, but, well, there you were. “He was alright.” 

“Only sometimes?” Jungkook chuckled, the vibrations of his deep timbre vibrating through the sensitive skin of your neck, his thumb grazing your nipple. The heat between your legs only grew, your entire body practically begging to feel more of him. “That’s a shame, I could do better.” 

You rolled your eyes. “Don’t start getting cocky.”

“I never stopped being cocky,” he responded without hesitation. Well, he was right. “And I do have a good track record.” 

“Doubt it,” you said, the ghost of a smile lingering on your lips. You knew that you were playing a dangerous game, pressing right at the weak spots of his inflated ego to see how he would react. Perhaps you’d be luckier trying to poke a bear with a short stick. “You wouldn’t know the difference between a real and fake orgasm even if it hit you in the face.” 

Jungkook leaned back and looked at you for an instant. You knew he had caught onto your challenge straight away. He liked it as much as you did, there was no doubt about that. “Let’s see, shall we?” he asked. There was no denying the devilish aura that was all around him now, suffocating you with its tempting heat. “How long do we have?”

“I’m locking up the room tonight,” you said, watching as his eyes sparked with an emotion you could not decipher. “But I wanna get home before ten. Have homework.” 

You could see him fighting against the natural urge to ridicule you for saying something like that at such an odd time, but, at the end, he managed to avoid it. “More than enough time.” Jungkook placed one hand on the back of your neck, gaze darting hungrily toward your lips. “Come here.”

And then his mouth was on yours, and everything else was white noise. Jungkook kissed you much slower than you had anticipated, taking his sweet time caressing your mouth with his; hands exploring the curves of your body and teasing their way underneath your dress. He sighed heavily against your mouth when you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him closer and deepening the kiss, his soft tongue poking out and entering your mouth perfectly. Jungkook was a good kisser, you had to admit it, and he got your knees weak sooner than you’d like. 

His body was hot and firm against yours and you could feel the outline of his abs underneath your fingers as you trailed your hands down his torso; his quick heartbeat drumming on your palms. Jungkook’s breathing got heavier as you hooked your fingers on the hem of his pants and tugged him toward you. Instantly you noticed the outline of his hard cock against your inner thigh. 

Then, something switched. Just as you had reached out to touch his hardness, squeezing it lightly underneath your fingers, Jungkook groaned against your mouth and bit down on your lip. You had barely any time to react before he was pulling away from the kiss, gaze darkening. 

“Such a tease,” he mumbled hoarsely, his breath hitting your mouth in soft waves. His hand was hovering over your heat, his middle finger pressing down on your sensitive nub, making you whimper. “You don’t know what you do to me.” 

Jungkook was much quicker than your thoughts and, within a second, the motion of your panties being pushed aside made you fumble closer to him; your hands holding tightly onto his shoulders when he finally decided to touch you. 

“Fuck,” he groaned next to your ear, making your mind go blank for a split second. The teasing motions of his digits brushing your entrance were enough to make you whimper, hips thrusting forward in a failed attempt to make him move further. “Look at this, you’re soaking my fingers. Wanna get fucked that bad?”

But he didn’t let you respond. The sudden intrusion of two fingers inside your pussy made your back arch, nails digging in the leather of his jacket as Jungkook opened you up. “I—” you tried to speak, but it was hard to think when he started pumping his fingers in and out of you. The sounds of your wetness were a filthy symphony filling the quiet atmosphere. “Jungkook, what—” 

“God, that’s so tight,” he groaned, speaking through clenched teeth. His voice was enough to shut you up at the spot, a frail moan dripping from your lips. “Relax, baby, you’re too tense. Let me take care of you, alright?” 

You nodded, eyes drifting shut as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you. You hated to admit it, but Jungkook was already winning against your ex by a long shot: the way his digits brushed inside you, gradually moving apart to stretch you, got you searching — begging — for more. You were sure you could cum around his fingers and, when he curled them up and they dragged against your sweet spot, the idea became a lot more palpable. 

“Jungkook, you’re taking too long, I’m gonna cum like this,” you complained, chest rising and falling under the waves of your upcoming orgasm. You could feel it building up in your stomach, ready to snap, and you didn’t want it to happen around his fingers. “I wanna feel you.” 

Jungkook breathed out at your needy request, placing a kiss against your jaw. “I’m just getting you ready for my cock, baby,” he said. A loud moan dripped from you when he unceremoniously added a third finger, your legs trembling on either side of his body. “I don’t know if you can take it.”

You scoffed. “Don’t flatter yourself,” you said, only half aware of the fact that your voice sounded more like a whimper than a serious comment. “I can.” 

He smirked wickedly. You really were pushing his buttons. “We’ll see about that,” Jungkook responded. 

Within a second, right as your orgasm was about to wash over you, he removed his fingers from your pussy. The frustrated moan you let out was quickly swollen by him, his mouth rogue against yours and the sweetness of his tongue intoxicating you — probably those stupid cupcakes, you thought. 

“Turn around for me,” he asked. 

You quickly did as he requested, putting your feet on the ground before turning your back to him, hands leaning on the table. Jungkook placed one hand on the curve of your spine, pushing you down until you had your chest against the surface, ass perked up and pussy in full display for him. There was a gush of cold air against your flesh when he pulled up the fabric of your dress and tossed it over your waist, exposing your lower body for him.

The boy hummed at the sight, one of his legs kicking your feet apart so he could position himself in the middle of your thighs. “You’re pretty all around,” Jungkook commented, one of his palms grazing your asscheek before grabbing it. His motion was harsh, needy; earning a whimper from you. “Knew you would be.” 

Through the dense clouds of your desire, there was still some part of you that managed to make fun of that situation. “You spend your free time thinking about my ass?”

“Won’t answer until I have a lawyer present,” he joked. 

You felt his fingers hooking around the fabric of your panties, pushing it further to the side so you had your cunt fully exposed for him to see. The drumming of your heartbeat almost drowned out the low groan he produced at the sight of your flushed heat. 

“Princess, your pussy is dripping so much…” Jungkook trailed off, one of his fingers tracing a line between your lips. He felt the urge to eat you out, to lick you completely clean and make you cum on his tongue, but he decided that would have to wait for a different time. “Is this all for me?” 

“Yeah, all for you,” you said, weak. There was a thundering exasperation building up inside you, motivated from your denied orgasm and from the way that Jungkook was taking his sweet time. 

“Good girl,” he mumbled and your chest was filled with pride. “Can’t wait to fuck it.” 

“Then don’t wait,” you practically begged. “Just rush.”

He removed his finger from your heat. “Shh… be patient,” Jungkook told you and you swore you could practically hear the smile in his voice. You could hear him shuffling behind you, the sound of his zipper opening echoing around that still room. “I’m gonna give you whatever you want.” 

You whined at the abrupt feeling of his warm cock rubbing between your folds, its tip hitting your clit after every languid thrust. “Fuck,” you cried out, shaky. Jungkook wasn’t lying when he said that he was big, his length was so thick that you were starting to get second thoughts whether you could take it or not. Not that you would ever admit it out loud. “Just put it in, Jungkook.” 

But Jungkook was having way more fun just teasing you. “Pussy’s so wet for me.” He breathed out, his hands tightening around your hips. You felt him throb between your folds, and the sensation got you searching for air. “You’re soaking my cock, baby. You want it that much?”

“Y-Yeah.”  

Jungkook hummed, leaning in so he could place a kiss on your shoulder. “I’m gonna fuck you like you deserve to be fucked, princess,” he promised, his length still rubbing between your folds. He was so hard and heavy that your mind was spinning, your lungs drowning in expectation. “Gonna fuck you so well that you’re never going to forget it. Do you want that?”

“Yes,” your voice was a pathetic moan, and you hated your body for betraying you so easily. “Yes, please.” 

After another pec on your shoulder, Jungkook leaned back. “Be loud for me, alright?” He asked. “Can you do that for me?”

You swallowed hard — what were the chances that someone would hear you? You had no idea. “Yeah, whatever you want, just fuck me.”

“Whatever I want? That’s a dangerous thing to say.” He moved around behind you, making you flinch when you felt his cock align with your dripping entrance. The anticipation was driving you insane. “Might have to see if you’re up for it another time.” 

There was an answer somewhere in your mind — you could swear there was — but it was quickly forgotten the second that Jungkook pushed himself inside you. The drag of his cock was a delicious torture, streching you out and filling you up to the brim until you were shaking under his touch, both of you moaning at the sensation. 

“Oh my god.” You breathed out, hands turning into fists on the table. Your cheek was pressed against the polished wood, hot breath creating small white clouds on the surface. 

Jungkook released a shaky sigh when he felt you clenching around him, your body desperately trying to move closer to him. “Fuck, baby,” he hissed, his hands holding onto your hips for dear life. Gradually, he moved himself away from your pussy just so he could slam back inside, marveling on the way you trembled at the feeling, crying out his name in the prettiest of whimpers. “Your pussy is so fucking tight. Squeezing my cock so well.” 

Took you only an instant to realize that you were absolutely addicted to the feeling of his cock inside you, the heavenly push of his hardness in and out of you as he slowly started to set a pace. “Oh my god, I’m—” a pitiful hiccup interrupted you, turning your voice into a sharp cry. “That’s so good, Jungkook.”

Jungkook chuckled behind you, his thrusts starting to pick up speed. Your eyes closed in endless bliss, every part of your brain focused on the sensation of his fat length stretching you up. “Told you I’d be, not my fault you didn’t believe me,” he said, but you could tell that his confidence had started to wear itself thin — he, too, seemed to be much more focused on the way that your bodies met. “Do you touch yourself, princess?”

You almost didn’t know how to answer him, a deep heat rushing up to your cheeks. “W-What?”

“When you’re alone, baby,” he practically hissed. You were bouncing on the table then, your body jerking up and down as he fully pistoned his cock inside your heat. “Do you play with your little pussy?”

“Y-yes,” you stammered, embarrassed. “S-Sometimes.” 

“Show me how you do it,” he requested in-between huffs, lust dripping from every syllable. Jungkook spoke to you like a siren, effortlessly inducting you to comply with everything he wanted. “Come on. Don’t be shy, I wanna see you play with yourself for me.” 

You didn’t even know if what you were feeling was shyness, but there was a veil of hesitation that covered your actions. As your hands moved downwards, one of them clenching around the fabric of your dress and pulling it up while the other trailed over your mound, you felt strangely vulnerable, exposed. At the same time, you wanted to do what he asked you to, wanted him to wash you over with compliments until your mind was going blank. 

So you closed your eyes and focused on the sensation of two of your fingers coating themselves in your wetness, then their pressure on your clit. You whined at the feeling, pleasure exploding in your veins as you started to rub yourself, tracing small circles on your sensitive spot. There was no way you could ever reach that sensation again, the sweet motions of your fingers combining perfectly with the thrusts of his hard, fat cock inside you. You were doomed. 

“That’s it… just like that, baby,” Jungkook whispered, obsessed with the sensation of your walls fluttering around him. You had gotten so tight that he thought he would see heaven at any second now. “Feels good?” 

“Y-Yeah, so good...” you struggled to get out, “feels amazing, Jungkook.” 

“So perfect for me,” his praise shot straight up to your core, making you mewl under him. God, the way that you were tightening around him was going to drive him insane. “You feel so fucking good, I can’t stop fucking you.” 

Jungkook took one of his hands to your neck, using it to guide your body upwards until you had your back pressed against his chest; his hot lips assaulting your neck. The new position made it so much easier for his cock to drill inside you, reaching even deeper and hitting sweet spots you didn’t even know you had. It wasn’t long before you were moaning out, eyes fluttering shut as the pleasure overtook you. 

“Just take a look at that, baby,” his voice broke you out of your hypnotized state.  “Look at you. Such a good slut, just taking everything I’m giving you, touching yourself for my cock… fuck. Could watch you like this forever.” 

You had to take a moment to understand what he was talking about, and then you saw it: the window. It stood silently across the room from you, half open, and the glass combined with the darkness of the night gave a perfect reflection of the two of you. You could see yourself, the mess you had become, as Jungkook pounded in and out of you and your fingers worked on your clit; the darkness of his hungry gaze as he followed the motions of your body against his. 

Even if you cried out at the sight, your body freezed up a little at the thought of someone walking by and seeing that private spectacle. The possibility itself was minimal — the window gave way to the side of the land, where a big, thick fence separated it from the nearby houses; most of the ground covered by large trees and bushes — but it wasn’t zero. You couldn’t even begin to imagine the humiliation that would come from being seen like that. 

He, of course, noticed your change of demeanor right away, and you could see in the faint reflection that he had smirked at that realization. “What is it? Are you worried someone is going to walk by?” Jungkook almost groaned against your ear. His cock continued to pump ferociously in and out of you, and you couldn’t even understand your own thoughts for a moment. “That someone is gonna see you get fucked like a good slut?” 

“It’s not—” a moan cut your sentence short. Not like you knew where you were heading, anyways. 

“No one is gonna see you like this, know why?” Jungkook was grunting, his fingers tightening around your throat. You cried out at the feeling, your cunt clenching around him in a way that got him fucking you even harder. “Cause this is all for me. Just for me.” 

Then he was pushing you back on the table, your chest crashing against the wooden surface and his hands yanking you by the waist. Jungkook was fucking you so hard that your worries left you as soon as they arrived, your mind a turmoil of desires and broken exclamations that didn’t give space to anything else but him. 

“You look fucking gorgeous like this, stuffed with cock,” he marveled at the sight. There was a known wave of pleasure hovering over you, ready to crash at any given moment, and you stopped rubbing yourself just so you could prolong its arrival. “Wanna see you cum for me, make a mess for me, baby.” 

The words left you in a confusing, broken order, “Jungkook, I can’t… too much… can’t...” 

“Shhh, you can,” he was slowly easing you into your orgasm, his cock drilling in and out of your pussy. Jungkook fucked like a machine, fast and precise, and you didn’t think you’d be able to forget that anytime soon. “You told me you could take it, so now you’re gonna take it. Don’t you wanna be good for me?” 

“I- I want to… I’m so close,” you cried out, pressing your forehead against the table. You didn’t know how it hadn’t broken yet, with the way that Jungkook was fucking you so mercilessly hard. “I’m so, so close.”

“Cream my cock, baby, come on,” he urged you on, his member throbbing inside you at the thought. Your legs were so weak that you knew you’d fall facedown on the floor if he wasn’t supporting your weight with his strong arms. “Be a good girl and cream my cock for me.” 

And that was it. That was all that you needed to push yourself over the edge, submerging you in ecstasy and making you squeeze him so deliciously. “J-Jungkook!” You moaned out his name again and again, unsure of how loud you were being, but also not caring as much as you should. Jungkook realized he loved hearing you call his name more than anything else. “Fuck! Oh my god!”

“That’s it, baby,” he moaned back, his thrusts a sloppy, uncoordinated mess. He was hypnotized by the view of your cunt hugging him, your wetness dripping down your thighs as you rode out the last seconds of your orgasm. “Pussy’s so fucking tight, so fucking perfect— gonna cum too.” 

You gasped out at the sensitivity that was starting to spread, every movement shaky as you tried to push yourself against him. “Yes, please.” You looked over your shoulder, meeting his hooded gaze. Jungkook looked like a god, his dark hair sweaty and messy and his lip trapped between his teeth. That image would plague you forever. “Cum inside me, please.” 

He groaned loudly, eyes closing for a second. “Fuck, that’s so fucking hot,” he hissed, chest heaving with anticipation. You knew he was close, everything pointed to that, and all that you wanted was to see him reach his high, using your body like it was just a doll for him to fuck. “Didn’t know you’d want to be filled up with cum, princess.” 

“I’m full of surprises.” You smiled — a pretty, fucked-out smile that got Jungkook grunting like a madman. “I want your cum inside me, Jungkook, please.” 

“Gonna fuck you full of my cum, don’t worry— Shit.” The sounds he was making were heavily: those breathy, high-pitched moans that echoed all around you; broken by deep grunts that had your thighs shaking. Jungkook fucked himself in you like he was meant for it, throwing his head back and closing his eyes as he finally found his orgasm. “Fuck! That’s it, fuck—”

Jungkook called out your name and mixed it with praises and curses when he came, spilling himself inside your pussy. You sighed at the feeling, taking in the blissful sensation of having his hot cum spilling out of you, dripping down your legs as he continued to thrust inside you, milking out his orgasm. 

At last, he started to wince from sensitivity. His body collided against your back, his heavy breathing fanning your neck as he tried to collect himself. “Fuck, baby,” he mumbled, “you’re amazing.” 

“You’re not so terrible yourself.” You could not help the smile that appeared on your lips, nor the way that you melted against the surface of the table, drowning in his heat. 

Still, you couldn’t stay there for much longer: it was already a miracle that no one heard the chaos going on in that room, and you weren’t trying to push your luck for the night. Especially since you had a pile of homework (and possibly — now cold — takeout) waiting for you at home. 

You raised your body, leaning against your elbows. “I have to leave,” you told him, taking one of your hands to lay on top of his tattooed one, trying to ease his grip from your waist. “Now if you could just…” 

“Shhh, shhh,” Jungkook hushed, unrelenting. He was much stronger than you, and your muscles were too weak for you to try and do much, so you eventually gave up. “Stop moving. Let me feel you around me for just a bit more.” 

You frowned. “Why?”

“I like it,” he said simply. His breath was a faint caress against the skin of your neck, and you didn’t have much fight left in you. “We all have our tastes.” 

You rolled your eyes. “You’re so weird.”

“Don’t kinkshame.” Jungkook pouted, then pressed a kiss against your shoulder. “You just begged me to fuck you in a church, remember?” 

“Yeah, I guess I don’t have much place to judge.” You laughed dryly, then looked over your shoulder. “Why is your cock still hard? How long is this gonna take?” 

Jungkook groaned, clearly annoyed. “Shut up and enjoy the moment.” 

~ 

The so-called moment lasted about two more minutes (which was kind of impressive, you thought) before Jungkook softened and slipped out of you. You hated to admit but you kind of liked the feeling of having him still inside you, completing you as his lips danced around your neck; fingers tenderly playing with your hair. You never thought Jungkook would be so gentle after fucking you like that, but you guessed that you weren’t the only one that was full of surprises. 

Jungkook, apparently, also liked to admire his work. After he had slipped out of you, he made you sit back on the table just so he could stare at his own cum dripping out of you, a glimmer of satisfaction in his dark gaze. He had pushed his white release back inside you and smirked up at you, asking, ever so kindly, for you to go home like that, filled with his cum. 

You, of course, promptly accepted it. 

“By the way,” he called when you two had already stepped out of the church, enveloped by the coldness of the night. There was only one solitary light pole illuminating his features, making him look like one of the saints in the chapel — nothing but fake advertisement, in your opinion. “Wanna know how much I got in that immunology test?”

“How much?” You asked. 

“Eighty two.” Jungkook smiled brightly then, and you found yourself joining him. “Never saw a grade so high in my life. And that counts all the times I’ve cheated too.” 

“Seems like the tutoring sessions are paying off.” You crossed your arms before your chest, the hem of your dress swirling around your knees. The night was weirdly peaceful after everything that had taken place. 

“They are.” He nodded. “I’m looking forward to the next one. Helps that my tutor is kind of a hottie too.”

You scoffed. “So I’ve heard.”  

“And, by the way?” 

“Yeah?”

“You would look better without it.” He pointed at your dress, a sly smile already sprouting on his lips. “Hope to see it next time.”

“Good night, Jungkook.” You rolled your eyes, already turning around — yeah, like there would ever be a next time. 

~ 

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