#especially since it's something i experience :'>>

[darkbluekies]

Countryside getaway

Yandere!mafia oc x reader

Summary: Silas has decided that the two of you should spend some time together, far away from his world, and you get to experience each other's real sides. No fear, no worries.

Warnings: mentions of crimes, mentions of murder, Silas dirty minded humor, but overall a softer oneshot

Word count: 2.3k

No one knows where you're going. Not even you. He has one hand on the steeringwheel, the other one holds your thigh. 

He's wearing a black shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, exposing the tattoos on his arms.

“Keep your eyes on the road, map reader, or we'll never get there”, Silas says, giving you a teasing look.

“You have a GPS”, you mutter and turn your head more comfortably against the pillow.

“My GPS does not have your voice.”

“I don't even know where we're going.”

“You don't have to. Just read the directions.”

“How much further do we have to go? We've been sitting here for hours …”

“I did not know I had brought a child with me. I've planned something romantic and you're just complaining.” He caresses your thigh with his thumb, chuckling. “One more hour, little thing. That good enough for you?”

You groan and hide your face in the pillow and he laughs. He's different like this, when he's not surrounded by his men. When he's not in that space. Here, in his sports car with just the two of you, he's different. Softer. Human. It loosens your walls too.

“So whiny”, he chuckles. “Slept bad?”

“Don't kid”, you mutter and make yourself comfortable against the pillow again.

“Maybe we both need this. I need a break and you need to be able to sleep. Can't do that at home, can you?”

No, you can't. Not when he comes home in the middle of the night, bloody and roughed up. At home, you wake to every little sound with your heart beating in your chest.

“You know”, Silas starts, “its important to do this. To get away. Especially in my industry. Otherwise you get consumed.”

“Will SIC be able to handle things?”

“He has no choice.”

“Are you really okay to go by yourself? You’re recognizable.”

“Darling, they can't do anything. Thankfully, the law is strict and as long as there is no evidence connecting me to something they can't actually take me. They can suspect me, but never catch me. I'm fine.” He smirks, glancing at you. “Why? You're worried?”

You give him a glare and turn your head out the window.

“I'll break that facade down, Y/N”, he smiles and leans back in his seat. “We have four days all to ourselves. And I'll make the most of it.” His smirk deepens. “With no one around … I can take you just however I want to, whenever. And if I'm not wrong, SIC said that the house is remote. You can be as loud as you want.”

You slap his shoulder.

“Ouch, I'm driving here”, he chuckles. “Mind your hands?”

“Focus on your driving then.”

“How can I when you're sitting right here?”

His free hand on your thigh squeezes ever so slightly. You stare at him, contemplating opening the door and throwing yourself out on the highway.

The car has since long ago pulled in on a gravel road with no cars. Red flowers cover the fields around you, and for a second you're sure he has orchestrated it. 

The house is smaller than Silas's house back in the city, less modern. 

“Jump out, little thing”, he says as he unbuckles himself. “We're here.”

You stretch, legs wobbly from hours of sitting down. Silas unlocks the trunk and carries your bags inside. You stand in the middle of the gravel driveway, looking around and listening to the absolute lack of noise.

“Are you coming or what?” Silas asks from the front door. “Don't be slow or I'll carry you too. No gentler than these bags.”

You hurry after him. He smirks.

It's not hard finding the bedroom. A note lay in the bedding. Silas picks it up and scoffs at the familiar handwriting.

“Be nice to the bed, it's old, you break if you pay for it — SIC.”

“That son of a bitch”, Silas chuckles and turns to you, showing the note. “Seems like he read my mind.”

“You are kind of predictable”, you say.

Silas starts to walk towards you, backing you up against the nearest wall, wearing a soft smirk. “Me? Predictable? If I was predictable I wouldn't be a crime organization leader, my dumb little Y/N.”

You shrug. “I’m just saying.”

“Yeah, you’re good at saying things.” His hand sneaks up to your jaw. “How about you put your poor mouth to other uses for once? I know a pair of lips that would die to meet them.”

His cheesiness makes you scoff out a small smile, enough for him to close the distance. Ever since you’ve forced him to start using lip balm, his mouth is soft when it moves against yours. You sigh out and he swallows the sound in a greedy inhale. He holds you close, one hand on your back, the other on your jaw. 

“Silas, you’ll bruise my lips”, you chuckle and try to turn your head away. 

“Let me”, he breathes and directs you right back to his mouth. 

And he does. He doesn’t half-ass things. He pulls back with proudness in his eyes. 

“Let’s go shopping now.”

“Shopping?”

“We need food. Can’t just live off each other, unfortunately.”

He grabs your hand and leads you back out to the black sports car and you’re once again put on map reader duty to find the nearest grocery store. You can’t remember the last time you’ve actually grocery shopped with him. Normally, he sends out someone to buy things, and if he can’t trust anyone, he sends SIC. Just because Silas can’t be arrested, doesn’t mean he’s a hundred percent safe. 

“Alright”, he mutters and grabs a cart. “Let’s pretend to be a normal couple.”

You can’t help but chuckle and he gives you a quick look. 

“Let’s get this shitshow on the road, let’s go”, he mutters and nods at you to follow. “Don’t start running around or I’ll place you in the cart like a three year old. Okay, what do we need?”

“You need steak”, you joke. 

“Damn right I do, but I get my steak from high quality butchers, I’ll get sick if I get it from a grocery store.”

“Aw, is your little tummy sensitive?” you ask, making sure it sounds more like “wittle”.

“Y/N, I’m warning you.”

His warning isn’t serious. Not now. Not like this. It only maks you smile. 

“Are you going to be a brat all vacation just because you think I won’t do anything?” Silas asks behind you, pushing the cart into your back. “I did tell you we are remote, didn’t I?”

“Don't touch me or I'll scream.”

“Oh, you'll scream alright.”

“Silas!”

He chuckles, eyes softening. “I couldn't help it. You played that into my hands a bit too good to pass up on.”

“You’re so childish. Maybe you should tone it down on the threatening part if you don’t want more people staring at you. You don’t need to give them a reason to recognise you.”

Silas scoffs, but there’s a smile tugging at his lips. He enjoys this side of you way too much. He can only enjoy it in situations like this, far away from his world. When you're not scared of him.

“What's the budget?” you ask him.

“What?” 

“The budget? You said to pretend to be a normal couple. Normal couples don't have your credit card.”

Silas groans audibly.

“I'm not compromising my money”, he says. “Stop messing around, grab what you want.”

You handle the actual shopping part while he pushes the cart behind you. People glance at him, if not for recognising him, then for his tattoos, but he pretends to be unaware. 

“Little thing.”

“Hm?”

“Grab those.”

You follow where he nods. Chips. They fall into the cart. So do a lot of other things Silas usually doesn't buy.

“Might as well go for it now that SIC can't bully me”, he shrugs. 

The cashier seems to recognise Silas, but she doesn't say anything. Silas is polite and wishes her a good day, as if he wasn't who she thought he was, before turning to you and grabbing the plastic bags.

Back at the house, he puts everything into the fridge and starts to cook right away. 

“You’re not allowed to help”, he says and taps your forehead. “I want to actually eat tonight.”

“I can cook”, you insist. 

“Yeah. Sure. How about you go and set the table while I handle the knives and the stove?”

“Fine.”

You do as you’re told, searching the drawers for cutlery and plates. He glances at you from time to time and can’t help but smile. Maybe this was what he wanted all along? To play family.

“It’s not often we get to do this”, he says as he plates the food. “Domestic things, I mean. Should enjoy it while we can. Oh, I saw a pool out in the backyard, by the way. I think we should try it out after dinner. I brought alcohol from back home.”

“Drinking and swimming doesn’t sound very safe.”

“Then you’ll just have to rescue me. They didn’t teach you life guard duty in swimming class?”

“Yes, but they didn’t prepare me to drag a man that weighs enough to crush a car.”

“So my workouts are working?” His grin widens as he takes a sip of his water. “Thank you, Y/N.”

Conversation die out for a moment, but Silas won’t let the night pass. 

“So?” he says. “Don’t you have something to say?”

“What?” you ask. 

“We don’t often get to just talk. Spew something out. Anything.”

You think for a moment. You usually have a lot of thoughts, but when put on the spot all seem to vanish. 

“I like the food.”

Silas laughs. Actually laughs. You haven’t hard a genuine, carefree laugh from him in a long time. His back eyes curl into half moons. 

“What?” you ask. “What is it?”

“You can say a million things and that’s what you choose to say?” he says. “That the food is good? I didn’t think I cooked that good food, enough for that to be the only thing you think of.”

“You put me on the spot, I just said the first thing that came to mind!”

“Try again, then.”

“Well … I … could really go for some alcohol right now.”

Silas smiles and rises from his chair. He disappears out of the room and returns with two bottles. One brandy, one red wine.

“Okay, your majesty”, he says. “Which fancies your taste buds?”

“Wine, probably. Fits better with dinner. You'll get brandy, I suspect?”

“You know me well.” He opens both bottles and pours. “I'm responsible for you, so it's my duty to make sure you don't get absolutely decked.”

“I thought I was the one that had to make sure you didn't fall face down in the pool?”

“Yeah, but let's be realistic for a second. I can hold my alcohol … you? Please.”

“Rude.”

“It is not rude if I'm stating facts, you just want to deny your incapable alcohol consumption.”

You take a sip of your wine and glare at him.

Silas jokingly suggests you both skinny dip. You shoot down the idea. He's a predator, taking your whole arm if you foolishly give him a finger. You'd like your body working for your getaway.

You're not sure what prompts him, the alcohol or his childishness, to jump into the pool like a bomb. Water splashes everywhere, both on your dry form and your towels, and he breaks the surface with a wide grin. He pushes his black hair back and swims over to the edge. His tattoos warp under the water.

“I’m wet now”, you say in a ‘matter of fact’ tone. 

He looks up at you, squinting one eye full of water shut. “Yeah? Jump in then.”

You decide to get in slowly, but he has other plans. His hand grips your wrist and pulls you into the pool. You yelp, but never have a second to worry about inhaling water, because he holds you.

“So much drama for nothing”, Silas chuckles and wipes water out of your eyes. "I've got you.”

His tattooed arms half hug you, half cradle you as he sways back and forth in the water.

“Today”, you start, hesitant, “when we were at the grocery store, and people looked at you, and what you said before that … I started to think about something just now.”

“What?” he asks softly.

“What do I do if you're taken? Or killed?”

“That will never happen.”

“But what if it does?”

Silas sighs, arms around you tightening slightly.

“If I ever were to never come back home for whatever reasons”, he started slowly, “then SIC would follow the instructions I’ve told him.”

“What are those?”

“To get you far away from everything and everyone and keep you safe. You'd get a cute little house on the coast where you could live peacefully. You'd have my dog, and how many bodyguards it takes to replace me. SIC would be there too. He’d check up on you.”

“That sounds pretty lonely.”

“What? Are you planning to become the Great Gatsby after I disappear?”

He caresses your face with a wet hand.

“I have money put away for you in case anything happens”, he promises and rolls his eyes. “And I might have made a deal with the devil to get you new papers in case something happens.”

“Who?”

“The parasite I'm unfortunately to call brother.”

“Ares?”

“Don't say his name. Let's drop this now. I don't want to think about it. Especially since it won't happen.”

The entire wine bottle is empty once the two of you get out of the pool and head to bed. Silas wears a dark Grey hoodie and sweatpants, insisting you wear comfy clothes too. He thinks it is better for cuddles. You're wrapped in his hoodie covered arms, face pressed to his chest. You'll be damned if you try to get out of his arms any time before morning hours.

Somehow, you wish this little getaway could last forever. Life would be easier that way. Silas sighs out, unbeknownst thinking the exact same thing. 

[awrkive]

NEIGHBOR BLUNDER, pt. 6 — JJK (m.)

in hindsight, you should have seen it coming. had always known your luck – or lack of it, thereof – and the universe's meticulous plan of your downfall made it easy for you to get tangled up in a series of unfortunate events, which presents itself as the neighbor that lives across from you, jeon jungkook.

PAIRING jungkook x (fem) reader

GENRE r18+ (fluff, angst, smut) MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

CHAPTER WORD COUNT 14.6k

CHAPTER WARNINGS/MISC neighbor!jk, bsf!jimin, accountant!oc, software engineer!jk, jk and jimin are chaebols lol, minjoon boyfriends <<<<3, as usual, super dreamy jk 😞 arguments,, lowkey,, emotional constipation like always, kinda angsty if u squint. Also jungkook kinda abuses the fuck out of 23278648 pet names available in the world even eye laughed... SPOILER AHEAD DONT READ IF U DONT WANNA KNOW [ explicit sexual content: mature language, very indulgent bl*wjob scene lmfao, a teeny tiny bit of c*mplay, fing*ring, c*nniling*s, penetr*tive s*x (p in v), c*wgirl s*x, protected s*x, multiple org*sms, jungkook has a filthy mouth 🫤😑😑 ]

NOTES i dont have anything to say except enjoyyy!! let me know your thoughts in my inbox gimme ur theories gimme ur keeb smashes gimme ur 2746th "i want nb jk so bad" 🤓☝🏼💓💓

[ SERIES MASTERLIST ] // [ MAIN MASTERLIST ]

You like to think of yourself as a reasonable person. You make okay decisions, even though it takes you a few weeks and a thousand debriefs. You can’t buy something off the rack without going through 10-year-old posts on Reddit, and you certainly are very keen with people you let into your life – given your two to three friends. 

The point is, while you may be a bit of a klutz, you take your adult life kind of seriously, and especially your relationships.

You were so sure that what happened back at the motel with Jungkook when you were stranded was going to be this whole… one-time-thing. That you both were just horny, stuck in a weird situation, just heat-of-the-moment lapse in judgment, and afterwards he would tell you to forget about it. And if he did, you’d accept it. It might crush you a little bit inside, but you know you’ll be fine to keep going on with your life even though that might have been the best orgasm you’ve had since forever and you’d like to experience it again.

What surprised you the most wasn’t that it happened. It was how you felt the next morning. 

There was no regret. 

When you opened your eyes – bleary and barely awake because of the little hours you got in – Jungkook wasn’t in bed. He was coming back through the door with a bag of pastries and coffee from what you assumed was the local bakery. He told you everything was handled, his car and your stuff, and you could take your time getting ready. You’d head back once you were set.

You fell asleep again on the ride home. Jungkook walked you to your apartment and bid you a kind smile when you said goodbye. 

And nothing happened after. No awkward texts. No slow fade. And you were just so ready for the worst thing to happen. Like him suddenly going MIA on you or something… 

But now it’s the day after, and you’re together again in his car after he texted you to ride with him on the way home after work – cramped up in the driver’s seat with you on his lap.

Frantically making out. 

“Oh,” you let out a soft moan, carding your fingers through Jungkook’s hair, not even caring about how you’re messing up his hairdo.

A needy, impatient sort of heat builds between you two. His mouth is on yours, hands exploring like he couldn’t decide where to start. Another moan slips out from you he cups the swell of your ass through your trousers, and a rush of frustration bubbles up in your chest.  

God, why didn’t you wear a skirt?

“You smell good,” Jungkook murmurs into your neck, kissing a slow trail up to your jaw before groaning as you rock against him, grinding against the growing bulge pressing up through his slacks. 

“Y-yeah?” you mumble, tugging at his tie and popping open the first three buttons of his shirt. Your fingers graze his chest, warm and solid and stupidly inviting. 

“This is the scent you wore back at the party.” He untucks your blouse from your waistband, his warm hands sending shivers down your spine when they travel across the span of your back.

Yeah. And also the scent you exclusively use for special, big occasions. Because in the true broke girl tradition, there’s always that unreasonably priced perfume you keep in your vanity while you spritz the hell out of the cheap one. You’ve only used it a total of ten times ever since you bought it a month ago, the eleventh time being now… which is just a regular day in the office.

But being in Jungkook’s lap and making out with him in his car is not regular day in the office. So maybe you lucked out on spraying that expensive perfume – totally because it was just there on your vanity, by the way – and not because you were expecting something to happen today.

Totally.

“Uh, yeah,” you shift on his lap. “It was on sale.” 

Which is probably information he did not need and a total bald-faced lie. 

He hums, kisses dropping down to your sternum, hands getting heavier under your clothes. You take his face in your hands again to press your mouth on him, your moan getting swallowed by his eager reciprocity, both in the movement of his tongue inside your mouth and his erection that’s making you wet your panties as you rock your hips against him. 

Jungkook’s fingers trace the cups of your bra. “Can I?” He asks, mouth agape. You don’t even know what he meant, you just nod. A second later and he’s squeezing your breasts in his palms.

“S-so you wanted to drive me home for this?” you arch your brow at him playfully, grinding against his lap and relishing in the warmth of his hands on your chest. God, you wish he’d do something about your bra soon. 

Jungkook chuckles, nipping your jaw. “No. I wanted to ask you to come over to my place to have dinner.”

As if that triggered your intestines, your stomach suddenly growls – quite loudly in the confined space of his car and around the quiet parking lot of the building. 

Jungkook freezes, staring at you. 

You shut your eyes close in embarrassment, groaning. “Ugh, sorry. I haven’t eaten at all today and you mentioning dinner is making me remember that.” 

“Oh…”

Jungkook reluctantly watches you as you carefully leave his lap, completely halting your previous activity. He grips your hand as he helps you transfer to the passenger’s seat, looking at you as you put your hair up and tuck your shirt.

He adjusts uncomfortably in his seat, clearing his throat. You can’t help but eye the very obvious outline of his dick in his pants, and it’s very huge, alright, making you grin. 

“I hope that’s not gonna be a problem.” 

Jungkook takes in the mischief in your eyes and scoffs playfully, shaking his head as he starts the ignition to drive. 

You spend about thirty minutes in the shower – which is definitely not at all your usual routine – but it did the job. You smell like raspberries now, and the outfit you pulled on afterwards looks casual enough for Jungkook not to suspect what’s going on underneath. Just an oversized shirt and pajama pants. Innocent. Normal. 

But you have on a lacy pair of white thong… just in case something does happen tonight. At least you’re the least bit prepared… 

When you look at your phone, it’s already 10:15pm, and Jungkook told you to be over at his place at 10:20. You check yourself in the mirror one last time and head straight to the kitchen where you grab the plastic container of a batch of choco-chip cookies you baked the second he dropped you off earlier.

You’ve perfected the recipe now, you’re sure of it. 

But just as you make a beeline for your door, a sudden warmth gushes between your thighs.

An all too familiar feeling by now. 

Oh no.

You dash to the bathroom, tug your pajama pants down, slide off your panties and – yep. There it is. A bright red stain against the flimsy white fabric that went right through the pants.

“Goddamn it,” you mutter, frowning. Of all the nights to get your period, of course it had to be this one.

You had showered. Prepped. Put on the g-string. And you were this close to maybe – possibly – having sex with Jungkook. You hadn’t said anything about it, not outright, but come on. That impulsive make-out session in the car earlier? The way he kept adjusting himself? The tension practically humming between you?

Yeah, something was definitely going to happen.

Well, probably not anymore.

Grumbling, you toss your pants into the laundry and rummage through your cabinet for a pad. You move like you’re trudging through emotional mud, begrudgingly pulling on a clean pair of a less sexier granny panties and fresh bottoms.

So much for that.

It’s not like you had any of this figured out anyway. No “so, what happened” talk, no conversations about the night at the motel or whatever is… happening now. And now your uterus has decided to sabotage you. Amazing. 

Still, cookies in hand and spirits only mildly deflated, you head out of your apartment and make your way to Jungkook’s porch. 

He opens the door on the second buzz, greeting you with a grin that makes your stomach flip. Even more so when you realize he’s wearing sweatpants. Grey sweatpants. Ugh. This man.

“Hi.” 

“Hey, come in,” Jungkook says, eyeing the plastic in your hand. “What’s that?” 

“Cookies.” you bring it up to your chest. “I made them real quick so it’s not a lot. But I can assure you it’s better now and you definitely won’t get food poison.” 

He chuckles, leading the way to his living area. “You say that as if I got food poisoning the first time.” 

“Maybe you did and you just didn’t tell me.” 

He shakes his head, still smiling. “You know you didn’t have to bring something, right?” 

“Uh-huh.,” you mutter, following him in, “but since you’re making dinner, I thought I could take care of dessert.” 

The moment the words leave your mouth, your face scrunch up. 

Jungkook pauses just long enough to glance back at you, amused, before shaking his head again with another soft laugh. 

What? What did he think you meant by that? Geez… 

Comfortable silence settles between you, the soft clinking of wine glasses and the distant narration of some random BBC documentary filling the space. You teased Jungkook again about his massive TV – said the faces look so big that it’s just kind of funny – but really, it’s kind of cute the way his ears flush red when he gets shy talking about his stuff. 

You talk. About work, mostly. Jungkook’s been pulling longer shifts, taking on more than usual. You tell him about your days have been the same lately, just mindless repetition. He compliments the cookies you brought, and after a bit of coaxing, admits the first batch you made for him weeks ago were kind of bad. You laugh and pretend to be offended.

It was nice. 

Somehow, you talk about everything and nothing. Not once either of you mentioned the motel. Not the kiss in the parking lot. Not even a vague nod to the tension that’s been following you around like a ghost. 

And maybe that’s the problem.

It feels like Jungkook’s waiting for you to jump the gun first. But how the hell are you supposed to do that? How do you casually bring up the fact that he kissed you like he meant it? How exactly are you going to talk about the night you shared a kiss with the man you think you’ve liked for so many weeks now? How are you going to talk about how he made you orgasm to sleep because it was the best you've ever had since and it was so much better than the scenarios you’ve made up in your head? And god, those scenarios didn’t even live up to the very real thing. 

You want to bring it up. God, you need to. Not because you’re hopeful that this night would lead to something – but because you just need to know if he would want to do that again sometime.

But something in you is scared that Jungkook will suddenly speak up and tell you the night was a mistake and you both should get over it.

But you also know that kiss in the parking lot must’ve meant something. The way you just jumped at each other like you weren't in a public space and Jungkook not minding one bit must’ve meant that he wanted it too.

That maybe, just like you, he can’t help but notice the thick tension up in the air as you sit on the couch so close to each other, his familiar scent overwhelming your senses, and the way he looks so cozy in his white shirt and… grey sweatpants. Ugh. You swear you weren’t going to pay any attention to it as soon as he opened that door, but how could you not when he just looks way too effortlessly good and you know exactly what it's hiding–

“You want some more?” 

Your thoughts are cut short when Jungkook suddenly speaks, looking at your wine glass. 

“Uh…” you glance at the clock. “No, I should probably get going. It’s almost 11. I have work tomorrow– we have work tomorrow,” you chuckle awkwardly, glancing at the wall clock across the room. 

Just like that, you go back to your shell again, overwhelmed by your anxiety and fear of rejection. 

But for a brief second, Jungkook looks disappointed by your response, although he’s quick to wipe that off with a smile. 

“Okay. I’ll walk you out.”

Okay. Well maybe you didn’t really want him to say that at all. 

Hiding your disappointment this time, you stand up from the seat and let Jungkook talk you into leaving the wine glasses on the coffee table as opposed to bringing it to the kitchen yourself, as Jungkook insisted he’ll take care of it once you leave. 

Jungkook’s hand lingers on your lower back as you stand by his door, ready to say goodbye. 

“Thanks for the dinner.” you say quietly.

“You’re welcome,” Jungkook smiles. “We can do this again sometime.” 

“Sure. Why not?” 

“Alright. See you tomorrow, then?” 

You halt your steps, lips curling into a half-smile. “That flatters me.” 

Jungkook leans on the doorframe, crossing his arms across his chest. “I was hoping so.” 

You bite back a grin, nod, turning to leave. But…

“__—”

“Jungkook—”

Your head snaps quickly to his direction, and you both stare at each other in surprise. Jungkook’s gaze melts into a soft look.

“You first.” 

“No, you first.” 

“___,” he says with a chuckle, coaxing. 

You take a deep breath, bracing yourself. 

Just take the chance, something in your head tells you. 

And you took the bait. 

“This is going to sound incredibly stupid,” you start, voice low and hesitant. “but what happened back at the motel — I’m not sure if we’re allowed to talk about that again — but we kind of kissed this afternoon and I… I don’t know what that meant. I guess what I’m trying to say is… I wanna do it again sometime. If you’re willing,” you voice wavers, trying to look into his eyes but the weight of your words crawl deep in your skin it makes you scared to even make eye contact. “But if you’re not, then that’s totally fine. We can forget it happened.” 

Silence stretched for a beat too long. Panic starts to rise in your chest – until Jungkook steps forward.

“If I’m willing?” He echoes, blinking like he’s not sure he heard you right. 

You nod, wary. “Y-yeah…?” 

He steps closer, and your breath catches. 

“Do you know how much I’ve thought about you since then?” He takes a tentative touch to your hips, and when you don’t say a thing or make a move to pry him off, Jungkook takes a hold of you to pull you closer, making you gasp quietly. “Everytime I close my eyes, all I can think about is how I’ve held these hips as I licked you, kissed you, and touched you. I’ve never been one to give in to my wants as easy as the way you made me when we walked back to my car this afternoon because all I wanted to do was to have a taste of you again, even though I would’ve liked for us to talk first. That means I can’t have enough,” Jungkook studies your face as he leans down, gaze so full of want, but there’s a certain control under his hold. It makes your breath hitch.

“And you want to know if I’m willing?” Jungkook tacks on, lifting his hand to caress your cheek, gaze dropping from your eyes to your lips. You anticipate his next words, but when he presses you closer – that’s when you feel it. The hard-on he’s sporting under the grey sweatpants you’ve been fantasizing about ever since you walked in on his apartment.  

“Oh…” you gasp, reaching for his shoulder as you feel your knees slightly buckling. 

Then, Jungkook chuckles, amused. But it’s dark and rich, and his boner is still very much pressing to your stomach. 

In the heat of the moment, you stand on your tippy toes and kiss Jungkook. 

He seems to be surprised at it first, but his arms slowly make their way around you to hold you as you tighten yours around his neck, letting out a soft moan when his tongue prods in. 

You stumble inside, Jungkook walking you back inside his apartment all the while not breaking the kiss, and the next thing you know, he’s kicking off the door shut, hands travelling down to your legs to carry you across his apartment. 

You yelp at the sudden way your feet get lifted off the ground, but Jungkook carries you with a certain grace as if you’re nothing but paperweight – hot tongue swirling around your mouth like kissing you was a lifeline. 

He lays you down gently on the couch, trailing kisses along your jaw. When you grab at the hem of his shirt, he sits back to quickly rid himself off the material. 

You bite on your bottom lip as soon as you see what’s on display. Wide chest, narrow waist, toned abdomen, and sculpted arms with ink. You would’ve liked to admire it more but Jungkook quickly goes back to kissing you after taking off his shirt, hands roaming all over your body as if he can’t quite decide where to put it at all. Then, he kneels in between your spread legs, slowly settling himself down on the floorboards. You watch with half-lidded eyes as his lips leave trail kisses down your neck to your sternum, until his hands slide your top off your stomach, kissing the exposed skin. 

Your hands settle on his soft locks, where you admire the way he moves down your body, huge hands splayed on your skin, making you ache in between your legs.

Your eyes blow out as you remember exactly what’s in between your legs. 

Fuck. 

Before Jungkook can kiss you there, you grab at his shoulders. “Jungkook,” 

He looks up quickly, fringe going in different directions, biceps unconsciously flexing at your touch. “Hm?” 

Even though it pains you, you tell him, “We can’t tonight…” 

“Ah, that’s alright,” He looks up at you in genuine concern. “You’re not feeling okay tonight?” 

You shake your head. “No… that’s not it,” You make a face, feeling annoyed all over again. God. Hot sex was on the table. And your period just ruined it. “I got my period. My cycle usually starts at the end of the month.” 

Jungkook nods in realization, squeezing your hips in understanding.

“Sorry, then. Should I get you something? I think I may have ice cream in the fridge.” He raises a brow, eyes drifting off to his kitchen. 

You take his cheek, grabbing his jaw gently to make him look at you. 

“Actually… I was thinking we don’t have to stop.” 

His eyes may have lightened up, and Jungkook takes your wrist to press a kiss to the side of your hand. 

“Yeah, I don’t really mind as long as you’re comfortable with it. We’ll put on a towel— okay, I can see on your face that’s not what you meant.” 

“No…? I was thinking I’ll give you a blowjob instead.” 

“Ah…” Jungkook nods again. “Are you sure? Don’t you have cramps?” 

You chuckle. “Not yet. It’ll kick in on the second day,” You nudge him with your foot. “Come on up here.” 

“You’re sure? We don’t need to do anything, baby,” 

Baby. God. That nickname had always been so generic but there’s something about the way it rolls off Jungkook's tongue. 

“I’m sure.” 

Jungkook gives you one of his million dollar smiles and kisses his way back up until your lips meet again. 

“Can I?” You nod when Jungkook tugs at your shirt. With your permission, he slides your top off, hissing at the sight of your bra-cladded chest. 

He goes down to lick your nipple through the material, and you grab his hair when you feel him give you a slightly harsh nip. He licks it again, as if offering some sort of silent apology. 

When he pulls the cups down, that’s when you push him to the side making him fall to the couch, and you take that time to kneel down this time in between his spread legs. 

“Put this on your knees first.” Jungkook hands you the throw pillow on the couch. You take them and fluff them under your knees, and when you finish doing that, you attend to Jungkook’s very taunting grey sweatpants, tugging it off him. He helps you slide the pants off together with his boxers – and you have to fight the urge to take it slow when his hard cock springs free. 

You’ve seen it before, have held it – but those moments felt so brief that they almost didn’t feel real. So when you see it up-close, so girthy and standing tall against his abdomen with the angry red tip slightly leaking, your breath gets caught up in your throat. 

“Fuck,” Jungkook lets out a low groan when you begin teasing kisses to his thighs.

His gorgeous, thick thighs.

God… you wonder how it would tense up with your feet resting on them as you bounce up and down on his huge cock. 

But you watch the way they clench when your lips get nearer to where he aches; watch as they tense under your touch when you place your hands there. And you watch Jungkook – most especially – as he looks down at you with hooded eyes, dark with want, his chest heaving under the tension. 

“Is this what you want?” You ask, blinking at him meekly. His mouth opens to speak, but you don’t let him say another word as you let a glob of saliva fall down to the crown of his cock. You adjust your position in between his thighs, getting more comfortable but also pushing your ass out as you wrap your hand around the base. 

Jungkook hisses when you twist your hand, gingerly spreading the wetness of your saliva around him. He lets his back fall to the back of the couch with a light thud, and you smirk when you see his abs clench. 

“You’re killing me here, __. Don’t tease.” 

You give him a non-committal hum. You meant to tease, but touching him like this feels like all your thoughts have suddenly gone to mush, and you’re left with only want – the want to pleasure him, to get him to let out those little huffs and grunts like when you two kissed…

You languidly move your hand around his shaft, humming at the way his tip oozes out more wetness which makes it easier for you to stroke him. You can’t help but watch in fascination as he seems to continue to grow around you. So hard and veiny… almost needy, the way he breathes heavily above you.

“Baby, fuck… you’re so pretty, god—” Jungkook’s words get cut off when you lean down to close your lips around the head, sucking at the softer tip before you take more of his length. “F-fuck…” Jungkook rasps, fingers gathering your hair in a makeshift ponytail when you start bobbing your head up and down.

He feels big. Warm. But you smile to yourself when Jungkook shifts on the couch at the sensation. It felt good to have him squirming like that beneath your touch, to have him keening like this. 

Gripping the base, you twist your fingers around the remaining length you couldn’t put in your mouth, jacking him off. From there, you start picking up your pace until Jungkook’s a panting mess. You’ve never pegged him as the type to be so… vocal. But it felt good, and at this point, you just want to see him let go of himself, even as he grips your hair tighter by every second that passes. It didn’t hurt enough to be uncomfortable, the force was just right – and it felt like he’s holding on to every muscle of his to not use too much force on your head by the way you can feel his other hand hovering over your hair. 

“Ah, __… baby, shit. Yeah, you’re taking my cock so well– shit…”

You pump him faster, and every now and then, you would suck at the tip gingerly, kiss the veins around his rock hard dick, roam with your tongue, and test the waters and massage his balls. Soft groans escape past his lips, hips arching off the couch.

“Shit— baby, fuck,” 

You hum, pleased with that. Your tongue teases the underside of his cock with every downstroke, just to hear him swear. You lick off the glistening juice off the head, lick around the ridge, and tighten your grip around the base, sinking your mouth up and down faster.

“God, your mouth is–aghh– Jesus fuck baby I’m gonna–” 

You slurp noisily around his cock as you try to take him deeper – and at one point you actually feel him hitting the back of your throat but you were careful enough to adjust your angle and continue to suck him up and down. Jungkook’s gasps increase in speed and pitch, and you can feel him trying to get you off him when he tries to pull your face away from his lap. 

“Baby, you gotta–” 

But you don’t even let him finish that thought when you grip his thigh with your other hand, sucking his head that gets him keening again.

“Shit, shit, shit __ I’m going to– f-fuuuck,”

Jungkook shoots his hot cum in your mouth, and you didn’t really expect it to be so… much. The first wave felt heavy, but as his thighs spasm, his dick continues to squirt some more, and you open your mouth to catch them all. 

“Fuck.” 

You pull back with a wet pop, opening your eyes to meet Jungkook’s stare. Your fingers are still around his length when you lick around your lips, noting the way his eyes darken at the sight of you in front of him like this – kneeling in between his legs and licking his cum. 

His chest heaves up and down, and he looks like he was about to say something when you suddenly slack your jaw to present your mouth to him – your mouth that’s now painted white with his cum. He watches you carefully as you close your eyes and swallow.

“Jesus.” 

“Didn’t know you were religious like that.” you say as soon as everything’s gone in your mouth, giving him a cheeky smile. It’s a bit salty, not terrible, though you kind of expected that.

When you look at Jungkook, his mouth opens and closes like fish in water. You beat him to it when you rise, crawling up on his chest to press your lips to his. 

You realize he might be one of those guys who didn't like it very much when their partners kissed them on the mouth right after giving them a blowjob – but Jungkook only slides his arm around your waist, deepening the kiss, dipping his tongue in your mouth until you’re settled on his lap again. 

“You’re a fucking dream.” Jungkook says before kissing you again. 

You giggle in his mouth, pushing him away slightly. His eyebrows knit in confusion, but he doesn't really look like he’s processing anything. 

“You know I realized something about you,” you plant a sweet kiss on the side of his lips. “You don’t cuss at all, but you do it a lot during sex.” 

Jungkook’s expression contorts into a frown, as if that was news to him. “Do I?” 

You chuckle. “Yeah.”

“I didn’t know that–” then as if cutting off his own thoughts, he dives in for a kiss again. He pulls away for a second, caressing your cheek and thumbing your jaw before staring at you. “God, you’re gorgeous. Pretty girl.” 

“Thanks.” 

“I think my brain’s broken right now. I don’t have coherent thoughts.” 

That makes you laugh. You pat his chest and notice the way Jungkook reluctantly lets you get off his lap, watching with hooded eyes as you rise to your feet. 

“Well, I’ll have to get going. It’s—” you glance at the wall clock. “almost 12.”

Jungkook takes your wrist, and you have to be very brave to not look at his lap because he still hasn’t pulled up his pants yet and his dick is still very much on display. And you weren’t really kidding about having to go because you do have an early day tomorrow. 

“Do you really have to go?” 

You pout. “I have to.” 

He sighs as if that disappointed him. “Okay… let me walk you out.” 

Jungkook – finally – pulls his pants up, brushing his fingers through his hair as he rises to his feet. He doesn’t bother putting on his shirt, though, and you don’t comment on it, figuring he’d stay inside anyway.

But when you see him slipping into his slides to follow you out, you press a hand lightly to his bare abdomen and laugh. “Hey, it’s literally, like five steps away. Go back inside.”

He pauses, brows furrowing in slight confusion before glancing down at himself. “Let me just grab my shirt, then—”

That makes you giggle. “Brain still broken?” 

“I think so…” he trails off then looks at you. “Hey, come here,” he doesn’t wait for you to do so though, just reaches for you to pull you by the waist, pressing you close to him. He leans down and gives you a slow kiss. You could actually feel air being taken away from you when he pulls away, his smile as gentle as the hand that rubs your back. “Thank you, and good night. See you tomorrow?” 

You nod, feeling your cheeks flush. 

“Okay. Night. And see you tomorrow.” 

With a small wave, you turn toward your apartment, not daring to glance back as you head to the door. But you can feel his gaze on you, watching as you slip inside. 

It felt like Jungkook wanted you to stay longer…

But the ache in between your thighs was starting to get uncomfortable, and honestly, you really needed to change your pad. 

Because the wetness there? Yeah, it definitely wasn’t just your period.

“So… is my laptop dying or…?” 

“For the third time; no, your laptop is not dying,” Jungkook gives you a playful shake of his head. “It’s just laggy because you watch a lot of porn on it and you turned off your antivirus for some reason.” 

You gasp. A dramatic one. 

You give Jungkook a scandalous look before sitting down on the couch with him, peeking over what he’s doing on your device. Frankly, you don’t like it when people touch your things – especially your gadgets – because you had a lot of private stuff in them. But thirty minutes ago, your laptop randomly shut down while you had been doing some excel spreadsheets. In a weird coincidence, Jungkook called you the same time it happened. So you told him about it, and he offered to swing by and take a look. He was a tech guy, after all… and anyway, getting it fixed at some shop would have been expensive. 

“I don’t watch porn!” you protest, glaring at him. 

Jungkook just blinks at you, looking unconvinced. Then he shrugs. “Okay.” 

“And what do you mean antivirus? I don’t even know I have one,” you mumble, placing the bowl of freshly cut watermelon on the coffee table. You fold your legs underneath you and inch closer to see what he’s actually doing. He’s been at it for a few minutes now, but all you see are lines of text and windows you can’t even pretend to understand.

“Yes, you do. And you did turn it off,” he says, gesturing at the screen. It’s full of stuff that might as well be in a foreign language. “These are malware. See this? Classic spyware script. You probably clicked on one of those fake play buttons with a hot singles ad or something.”

You give him a baleful look. He snorts.

“You’re not funny. And I watch porn on twitter like a normal person– okay sometimes maybe I do watch on shady websites but why do you even know that? And why are you interested in my porn.” 

“You watch porn on twitter?”

“Mostly, yeah.”

“Hm. Interesting,” he nods and turns to the screen again. “Well, I wanna know what you like.” 

You almost fall off the sofa. “Like you want me to give you a list of porn accounts?” 

Jungkook actually laughs at that. “What? No. I mean, I'm interested in the porn you like.” 

Oh.

“Uhm, I don’t particularly like anything,” you say, although maybe you immediately think of those videos where the woman is on the guy’s lap and he fingers her hard in front of the camera – but other than that, not really. You aren’t some freakazoid about porn. Most of the time, you were fine getting off with pure imagination. “I don’t like BDSM though, I think.” 

Jungkook nods, but his eyes are not really on you and instead focused on your laptop as he does things. “Hmm.” 

Your head snaps in his direction. “What do you mean, hmm?” 

Jungkook meets your stare. “What?” 

You study his face, narrowing your eyes. But he just looks at you in confusion, although there’s a little smile tugging at his lips. You drop it anyway, reaching for the watermelon cuts on the coffee table and start eating them as you watch whatever magic Jungkook is doing on your device.

“Anyway, I pirate a lot of movies so there’s that.” You thought that would be helpful to share. Those sites do have a lot of those pop-up ads, and you’d really rather endure that than have some big fuckass streaming corporation steal from you every month. 

“I know, I’m just teasing about the porn websites,” Jungkook chuckles when you glare at him. “I could share my streaming accounts with you. I think I have everything.” 

Your eyes light up almost instantly, but then you manage to catch yourself. 

“Uh, no, you don’t really need to do that…” 

He hums, goes back to your laptop. You don’t think about it too much when you pick up a watermelon and hover it over his mouth. Jungkook doesn’t hesitate to eat it off your finger, and you don’t  expect the way he sucks the juices off, tongue swirling around your digit while looking into your eyes. It feels like the whole moment took a minute, but in reality it was really only a few seconds, and Jungkook’s back to doing his thing on your laptop. 

Oh. 

Oh… okay. Well. 

You feel the blood rush to your cheeks as you drop your hand to your side, absentmindedly eating your watermelon bites.

Ugh. When will your period end?! Given, it’s only really day two, and you probably have two or three more days to go but ugh… 

Your thoughts are interrupted when Jungkook suddenly speaks, rising to his feet. 

“All done. I installed a better antivirus, and I logged in my streaming accounts so you don’t get malware again. Also turned off some useless background programs because you had too many running– and I recovered your excel file,” he says, and you give him a grateful smile as you take your laptop and bring it to your chest like it’s your baby. Jungkook chuckles at the sight. “I have to go to the toilet, though. Want to order in and watch something when I’m back?”

“Yeah, sure! Toilet’s over there,” you point to the far right direction of the apartment and watch Jungkook disappear into view to enter the bathroom. 

You’re hacking away on your laptop when a phone starts buzzing on the coffee table. 

Jungkook’s phone. 

You hesitate. You don’t want to knock on the bathroom door just to hand it to him, but you don’t feel right ignoring it either. 

The buzzing stops, and you feel relieved for all of one second when it suddenly starts again. 

You lean slightly over – not really reaching, just peeking – to see who it is. What if it’s work? What if it’s important? You could tell him about it when he comes back… 

The screen lights up with a name: Dad.

You gasp. Just a little.

The bathroom door creaks open behind you and you straighten up like you weren’t doing anything. Jungkook walks out, toweling his hands on his jeans.

“Oh, hey, someone's calling you.” 

He gives you a curious look before he crosses the room. You try not to watch too closely as he picks up his phone, but you see it; the way his brows knit together, the way his stance and tone shift when he looks back at you. 

“I need to take this real quick” He gestures to the phone. You nod.

He walks far enough that you can’t really make out the conversation, but when you take a peek to look at him, he looks so serious. You’ve only ever seen serious Jungkook when he was at work. 

A few seconds later, he returns – apologetic eyes, hand rubbing the back of his neck.

“Hey, I got called into work just now. I’m sorry we can’t have dinner tonight.” 

Oh, so you were right! It was a work thing. Still… you wonder why his dad was the one calling.

“No, it’s fine! It must be super important,” you say quickly. “Maybe we can have dinner tomorrow instead?” You say, smiling up at him brightly. 

Jungkook breaks into a smile. Then, out of nowhere, he steps closer and leans down to press a kiss to your lips. 

You’ve been doing a lot of that lately. Kissing, that is. Just this morning, he drove you to work and you made out before he even started the engine. Then later. After parking, his hands wandered a little too much before you swatted him off, gently reminding him that your breasts were feeling tender from your period.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” 

Then just like that, Jungkook makes his way out of the apartment, and you don’t even know that you’ve been smiling like crazy until the black screen of your laptop catches your silly expression. 

You miss Jungkook. 

Okay— well. It’s just been two days, really. Well, more like today is day two. So it’s actually just been a full day. But there were no texts yesterday, and there were certainly no calls either. You haven’t seen him come out of his apartment, and you hate that you’re starting to worry. 

You were debating whether to send him a message or not when suddenly, your doorbell rings. You weren’t expecting any visitors, especially not today when it was still so early in the morning and you have to go to work soon! But maybe it was your landlord, complaining about something again…

You groan at that, snatching your bag from the counter, planning to head straight to work after dealing with whoever it is. You slide your shoes on, ready for that condescending landlord tone only to freeze when you open the door.

“Jungkook,” you gasp, acting like you’ve just seen a ghost. And he seems to think so as well, cocking his head to the side at the unusual greeting. “You’re here.” you blurt out. 

“Yeah, I went back to my place last night but only for awhile. We launched a system yesterday and something broke in production. QA didn’t catch it, so now we had to roll it—” as if he thought he was sparing you with some boring talk, he cuts himself off and smiles at you instead. “I had to work overtime. I’m sorry I missed dinner last night.”

“Eh, don’t worry. It’s not that serious. I know you're extra busy these days. Anyway, are you on the way to work?” Jungkook nods. “We should go together, then.” 

“I was just going to say that.” 

You step out of your apartment, and Jungkook waits for you to lock up before you both walk side by side down the stairs. You don’t know why but somehow, having seen him today and walking with him to his car where you’re gonna be riding in together to go to work was giving you a sense of contentment that you missed yesterday. Okay, so maybe this was a thing that was starting to grow on you. And maybe being with Jungkook genuinely makes you feel happy – giddy, for the most part. But it felt silly to have missed him when it was only really a day…

But you didn’t really want to dwell on that. It wasn’t Jungkook’s obligation to drive you to work everyday, and you certainly aren’t entitled to his undivided attention when you know exactly just how hectic his work schedule is. You couldn’t ask him to make time for you, even though you would like that.

“Oh!” Jungkook startles beside you when you suddenly halt. You look at him, wide-eyed. “Jungkook, it’s September first today!” 

Jungkook checks his phone, brows furrowed. “Yes…?” 

You eye him incredulously. “It’s your birthday!” 

At first, the words didn’t seem to register, but Jungkook slowly nods. “Ah yeah, it’s my birthday today.”

“Why do you sound so unexcited?” You pout. 

He chuckles, stepping closer to brush away a stray of hair you hadn’t even noticed had fallen across your face.

“Baby, it’s just another day.” 

You feeze at the word. It’s the first time he called you that outside of you two… fooling around. It slips naturally from his mouth in that situation, but hearing it in this very non-sexual context was kind of throwing you off-balance – because this moment wasn’t supposed to feel intimate. Not like that, anyway.

Looking away, you say, “Still. You should do something to celebrate. Oh! I think… oh…” your eyes widen at the thought of throwing him a mini-party tonight. Obviously, Jungkook doesn't make a big deal of his birthdays, based on his response. But you thought about baking him a cake. And cookies! He liked the cookies you made last time! And you were practicing cakes these days so maybe it’d be nice to make him a small one. You turn to him with hopeful eyes. “Are you free tonight?” 

Jungkook hesitates, but he smiles down at you. “Yeah, I’m free tonight. Why?” 

You grin. “You’ll have to come to my place to find out! Oh, it’s gonna be fun. Ugh, I wish we can invite Jimin…”   

You’re honestly proud of yourself for not breaking down when the piping tip you bought turns out to be the wrong one. The blue icing on your apron now looks like abstract art, and there’s enough sugar on your kitchen floor to summon an army of rants.

You just wanted the cake to be perfect. The cookies already were – but the cake, maybe not so much. And it was fine! It tasted fine! But the decorating sucked and at this point you just kind of wish Jungkook would look past the awkward lettering and appreciate the effort behind all these. 

You didn’t have much time. He texted you after work that he couldn’t drive you home. He had to stay late, which actually worked out because it gave you the extra time you needed to prepare. 

Although for the record, this wasn’t even a real surprise. You just made baked goods. And you cooked some food. And by cook you scratched off the chicken shop’s label and put it in the microwave to heat it up by the time you finished cleaning up your place since Jungkook was gonna be here by 11pm. 

Which is why, at 10:40, you rush to the shower.

When you’re done, you step in front of the mirror to check yourself out. You’ve rummaged through your closet and found an old lingerie you don’t remember ever putting on. You remember it as one of those “feel-good” purchases awhile ago. 

It’s nothing special, really. Just your usual black lace two-piece. The bra’s light and sheer, made of floral lace with thin straps that sat neatly on your shoulders. There are little pink bows too on them, which kind of made it cute. It didn’t offer much coverage, what with your nipples poking through the fabric – but that seemed to be the point. Meanwhile the panties are just as bold; crotchless, cut daringly open in the center, but softened by the same delicate lace. The set originally had garter straps and thigh-high stockings, but you thought that would be an overkill so you opted out of it. 

You cover it up with a casual white dress, spritzing on the La Belle perfume Jungkook always seems to like a little too much. 

There, everything’s done. Your period’s gone too, obviously, (day four, thank god) almost as if it knew not to ruin this night for you. 

When you head out of your bedroom, you pick your phone up from the kitchen counter to dial Jungkook’s phone. 

He usually answers on the first or second ring, but this time, he doesn’t. Wasn’t unusual or anything, given how busy he is… but you do frown when the ringing ends and there’s nothing that comes next but his voicemail.

Your frown deepens. You shift from one foot to the other, glancing at the clock. It’s past eleven now. Fifteen minutes past, to be exact. 

Jungkook’s not usually late to things.

You sigh, trudging to one of the chairs in the dining area where you prepared the food and cake for him. You also bought wine and lit up a candle.

You stare at your phone for a solid minute before you pick it up again, deciding to send Jungkook a text. 

You [11:16pm]: hey!! are you running late :> 

You chose to add the emoticon in the end so the text doesn’t feel too mysterious or broody or serious. Really, you aren’t mad, maybe a little upset now – but maybe Jungkook’s just in the middle of something… what was that again? Someone breaking in production, whatever that meant…

But the clock turns 11:25, and there is still no sign of Jungkook on your phone – and even more so on your door. 

You [11:25pm]: are you busy? sorry if im bothering you! 

Then on second thought, you added:

You [11:26pm]: oh no pls dont tell me you forgot.. 🙁

Maybe he did forget. You hadn’t reminded him of it when you talked earlier. Did you have to? He said he was free tonight, so you kind of assumed… 

You sigh again. 

The chicken was turning cold and so was the other food on the table. 

You pick up a cookie to nibble on it, thinking of why Jungkook would forget. Or why he wouldn’t text you back or return your call. 

At eleven thirty, you stand up from your seat, suddenly feeling so… so silly. Silly about the food. Silly about the cake. Silly about your dress. And most especially, you feel silly about the lingerie that’s hidden underneath. 

How silly. To plan all these in expectation of what… Jungkook’s company? 

But it was his birthday. And you wanted to throw him a party, thought it would mean something to him, even though it’s not that much. But you did go through a lot of trouble to put this all out… but he also didn’t ask you either. So really, you have no right to feel upset over him not making good on his promise. 

Wait, did he promise anything though? No, he didn’t. Not really. He just said he was free tonight. No promises. Maybe his schedule changed again and he needed to work overtime. 

You start putting away the food in the fridge, not even having the energy to eat something for dinner. You go back to your room, stripping yourself off and changing into some comfortable pajamas before throwing yourself on the bed. 

Still no texts.

It’s 11:42pm when it comes. 

You hate how fast your body reaches for your phone to see who it was, lighting up when you see Jungkook (Unit 446) on the caller ID, even more so when you answer it. 

“Hey, I got your texts. I’m so sorry, __—”

“It’s fine!” you nibble on your bottom lip as you try to contain your excitement. “Are you coming soon?” 

“I– no, ba—” you flinch involuntarily when you hear him cut himself off. You were so sure he was going to call you baby, but he corrected himself quickly. “You remember the thing I mentioned this morning? The rollback didn’t go as planned. I’m working overtime tonight again so I can’t really go…” 

“Oh…” 

“Did you plan something? It’s just my birthday, __. Maybe we can go somewhere tomorrow?” Jungkook chuckles on the other end of the line, and for the first time it didn’t make you feel giddy or whatever. 

You pick on the bed sheet before answering. “Uh, no. It’s not anything big, actually. I just made you some cookies. And ordered some food. But anyway I just ate dinner first because you took so long,” the lie rolls off your tongue easier than you expected. His laugh made you feel shitty. You know he didn’t mean anything by it – but it just made you feel so… so unimportant.

And suddenly, you want to downplay the whole thing. Because clearly, he thinks it’s no big deal.

“Hey, are you upset?” His tone shifts — gentler now.

“Ah, no. Sorry. I’m so tired and sleepy,” you fake a yawn and snuggle on the bed. “Maybe we can talk tomorrow when you’re here?” 

Tomorrow is now your least favorite word. You’ve heard it too many times from him lately. 

Jungkook doesn’t say anything for a few seconds.

Then you hear him sigh. 

“I’m sorry again, I swear I’ll make it up to you.” 

“No need to!” you tell him, making sure to say that as cheerfully as possible. Jungkook doesn’t need to. It’s not like you were dating or something for you to be upset over him bailing on you. “Really, it’s fine. Hey, I’m really, really sleepy now. Good night?” 

“Okay, sorry. Sleep well, __. Tomorrow, okay?” 

You hum, not sure if you believe that. Maybe tomorrow he’s going to have to do overtime again. Maybe tomorrow he won’t be here again.

Whatever. 

It wasn’t a big deal. 

You end the call, but before you can drop your phone onto the nightstand, you type out one last message.

You [11:45pm]: happy birthday! 

You didn’t get much sleep last night. Not like your body clock has ever been particularly reliable, 

This morning, you didn’t really think that much about it when you put the cake in a container and dropped it off at Jungkook’s door on your way down the stairs. You figured you could’ve eaten it, but you made it for him and anyway… it was his birthday and you still think he deserves a cake. He didn’t exactly seem like he was celebrating last night.

You took the bus to work. Nothing unusual, nothing exciting. Just another day dragging your limbs through the same monotonous rhythm. Your brain feels like it’s moving on autopilot by the time you tap your company ID at the building entrance and wait in line for the elevator. 

Slipping inside, you wedge yourself into a spare corner, arms crossed as the lift fills and empties floor by floor. Eventually, it’s just you and one other woman left. She steps out when the elevator dings, cradling her phone against her shoulder as she barks something stressed into the line.

Instinctively, you lean forward and press the hold button, stepping onto the side when you take notice of someone going in, only to realize it was Jungkook. 

It’s funny, really. Somehow, he only ever seems to appear when he’s the last person you’re ready to see. 

“Oh– good morning, Mr. Jeon,” you say, dipping your head in a polite little nod. The words sound awkward even to your own ears, stiff. You’ve never had to think about how to interact with him in the workplace.

Judging by the slight flicker on Jungkook’s face, he thinks it sounds weird too. But he recovers quickly, offering a faint smile as he steps in. 

You return his smile, just as polite, and inch a little further to the side – so far that your back nearly presses to the elevator wall, creating an unnecessary gap between you.

The silence is noticeable. Tense, but it’s civil at least. You glance at the floor numbers blinking overhead, half-hoping this ride doesn’t last long.

Then Jungkook shifts in your periphery. 

“Hey, about last night—”

The elevator dings. 

It’s your floor.

You step out quickly, almost too quickly, heart tapping a little faster than it should.

You don’t look back.

You didn’t expect to get a text from Jungkook that night. 

Jungkook (Unit 446) [9:37pm]: Do you wanna drive home together? 

You made a mental note to give him a reply but it’s thirty minutes later that you remembered about it.

You [10:11pm]: hey sorry I just got home

Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:14pm]: Okay Jungkook (Unit 446) [10:14pm]: Please come over tonight? I’m cooking 

You [10:16pm]: i'm not sure if I can You [10:17pm]: i’ll try to. I brought home some work :/

He doesn’t give a reply after that.

And maybe that – weirdly – made you irritated. He’d texted first, and he’d asked you over. You gave a soft no, not even a hard one, and he didn’t even try again? Just left it like that?

You sigh and close the lid of your laptop. For once, you hadn’t lied about being busy with work. It was just a few reports you figured you could finish now to make tomorrow lighter and easier. It was nothing really urgent. 

But you do feel sort of guilty about it.

Your door buzzes, and you have second thoughts whether or not you ordered dinner. 

When you open the door, it felt like deja vu.

“Jungkook.” you say, blinking.

“Are you still working?” He’s in his work clothes, though the sleeves of his button-up are slightly rolled now. It looks like he just got home not long ago.

You glance at the laptop on the coffee table. “No, I just finished…” 

“Okay, then I have a question,” Jungkook steps inside, and you unconsciously take a step back at that, looking at him curiously. He watches you carefully. “Are we okay?”

Caught off guard, you stammer when you say, “I– yeah! Sure, why wouldn’t we be?” 

He doesn’t say anything for a beat, then, “You seemed a little off this morning. I thought maybe it was about last night.” 

You try to wave it off, suddenly nervous about Jungkook being so straight-forward. Usually, men were so emotionally stunted as you are and never faced their problems head-on.

“No, I mean, it’s fine. You were probably so busy. It wasn’t a big deal.” 

“But it did kind of matter.” 

You exhale, shifting uncomfortably. “Okay, maybe I was a little upset. But it’s not like I’m mad mad.” 

“I figured,” Jungkook says, voice soft. “And I get it if you don’t want to hang out tonight, but I still wanted to try. I know I’ve flaked twice now, but I meant what I said, about making it up to you.” 

You shift your weight from one foot to the other. “With food?”

He smiles faintly. “With food. Amongst other things.” 

That earns a chuckle from you. You’re not over it – unfortunately – but something about the way he’s standing there, almost cautious, makes it hard to keep your walls all the way up. 

“So,” he asks gently. “Will you come?”

Taking a deep breath, you unintentionally look down at your socks. 

“Only if there’s wine…” you say softly. 

Jungkook’s smile spreads. “There’s wine.” 

You sigh and start toeing your slippers off. “If it’s terrible, I’m leaving in five minutes.” 

“I can live with that.” 

Inside Jungkook’s place, the lights are unusually dim, the apartment warm with the scent of garlic and something buttery. A jazz record plays at the far corner, and you only noticed then that Jungkook owned a vinyl player – which you kind of didn’t expect – you sort of pegged him as the type to not have time to listen to music. 

Meanwhile, he goes straight to the kitchen counter, where you watch him by the stove, plating food like a professional. You realized he had been cooking, and that’s why his tie was a little loose and his hair kind of a muss. 

You don’t really know what to say, so you try to break the silence with, “Uhm, wow.” 

Jungkook glances at you, mouth lifting at the corner. “I try sometimes.” 

The obvious faux humility makes you laugh. You know exactly that he knows you’re impressed by the whole thing. 

And you haven’t even eaten his food yet.

Walking in slowly to the dining area, your eyes skim over the table where there are real wine glasses, cloth napkins, and a lit candle.

“So what’s the occasion?” You ask, sitting on the chair, watching Jungkook as he heads towards your direction, bringing in the food he was preparing. You smile up at him. “Guilt?” 

He chuckles under his breath, and you’re almost glad that the joke lands.

“Maybe. Also I figured you deserve a proper dinner, made by me. Since someone went out of their way to make me one.”

You hum. “Can’t believe you stood me up on your own birthday.” 

He brings the plates over and sits across from you. “I cooked,” he says. “Try it before you decide if I’m forgiven.” 

You eye the food, a little surprise at how he mustered up a risotto with seared scallops, and of course perfectly plated. Like he’s just so good at everything he does… wait, did Jungkook go to culinary school? You’re starting to think that.

“You know how to make risotto?” 

“I know how to do a lot of things,” he meets her gaze.

Yeah, you know that was a hundred percent true…

You take a bite, careful not to let any expression slip while Jungkook watches closely, not really digging in on his own plate.

And as expected, the risotto’s annoyingly good. You didn’t doubt it from Jungkook, though. Being good at cooking was just one of the many qualities that made him so… so whatever. 

“Okay, fine. I’m mildly impressed,” you comment, sipping on the wine to hide the small smile tugging at your mouth. Your very expression contradicts your words, and you know Jungkook can see through you.

He leans back in his chair, obviously satisfied. “Mildly?”

“You still missed your birthday dinner. That knocks off some points.”

He gives you a small smile. “I really didn’t expect it to be a birthday dinner, baby.” 

You shrug off the nickname by having more bites of the risotto. You wonder if Jungkook was being deliberate when he said that, or if it was just going to be a thing between you now. 

“You didn’t ask… and well, I was going to surprise you.” Now you pout at the memories of last night again. “There was chicken.” 

Jungkook looks at you in surprise. “You cooked?”

You eye him. “Yeah, I scratched the tapes off the takeout boxes and put it in the microwave.” Jungkook laughs, the crinkles on the sides of his eyes showing. It makes you smile to see him like that. “Well,” you say eventually, “you’ve redeemed yourself a little.” 

Jungkook leans in again, riding along, “Only a little?” 

“We’ll see if there’s dessert.” 

Jungkook smirks, and you both continue to eat. 

After awhile, he glances at you. “You’re not mad,” he says, as if treading softly. “But… you were disappointed, right?” 

You shake your head. “No. I just—” You see Jungkook raising a brow. “I just thought it’d be nice. I don’t want to make a big deal about it, it was your birthday! Now I feel bad ‘cause it’s like I’m making this all about me.” you chuckle at the realization.

You look at Jungkook when you realize he’s not really laughing with you. 

You flinch a little when his hand reaches out to yours. His thumb caresses your knuckles as he tells you softly, “Hey, I know it would’ve been nice. I’m really sorry I missed it.” 

“It’s fine…” it’s a good thing Jungkook lets go immediately.

But you find yourself wanting to share with him that you baked him a cake too. About the lingerie… but that felt stupid now. Wait, did he even get the cake you left at his porch this morning? 

As if he read your mind, Jungkook suddenly rises up from his chair.

“Wait a second,” he walks past you, disappearing into the kitchen. He opens the fridge and comes back into view with a single slice of cake.

Your cake. The one you made for him. 

You stare. “Is that—?”

“You left it outside my door this morning,” he says, placing it on the table. You blink up at him, mouth slightly open. “I thought I’d save it, you know? In case you ever stopped pretending you didn’t care.” 

It felt a little pointed, but with the smile on his face you’re not really sure. 

“You really don’t play fair.” 

“Not trying to.” he says simply with a small smile before sitting again. 

“So. Is this your apology routine? Fancy dinner, smooth jazz, and then hoping I forget you bailed?” 

He smiles into his own glass of wine. “If I wanted you to forget, I wouldn’t have brought out the cake.”

You raise a brow. “You brought that out to make a point.” 

“I did.”

“You’re kind of smug about it.”

“I’m good at making points,” he says, “Especially when someone keeps insisting nothing’s wrong.” 

You frown, somehow not really liking the confirmation that he does think you’re making a big deal about this. 

“I said I was fine.” 

“You keep saying that,” his voice is quieter now, but a little edged. “But you’ve been smiling like it’s your job since you got here. And I know it’s not real.” 

You recoil at that, not expecting to be called out. The sudden shift of the atmosphere is palpable as you lean back on the couch. 

“What do you want me to say?” you let out a humorless chuckle. “That I was upset? You hurt my feelings?” 

Jungkook’s expression changes, but his voice doesn’t falter. “I wanna know how you feel.” 

You look away. “Do you want me to admit that maybe I cared more than I should?” 

“I didn’t say that.” 

“But you mean it.”

He leans forward, "I mean,” he starts, “that it wasn’t nothing. You made me dinner. You planned something for me. That’s not small. And I want you to know that I want to apologize when I make these mistakes.” 

You don’t really think it through when you say, “It’s not like we’re together, Jungkook.” 

That makes him pause. You can’t find it in you to take it back, because… it was true, right? The whole thing felt like… like you were a couple in a fight. And you aren’t.

“Still not an excuse.” he says after awhile. 

You let out a breath, almost a laugh, frustrated. You wish Jungkook hadn’t brought it up, and you wish you aren’t reacting the way you are right now.

“You know, you didn’t seem bothered about it when we talked on the phone.” 

“Because I thought you were okay.”

“Well, surprise,” you flash him a tight smile. “Turns out I’m not as chill as I thought.” 

His voice lowers. “I never thought you were chill.” You can’t help but glance at him sharply. “I thought you were trying really hard to seem like you didn’t care, because maybe you thought I might not care back.”

That lands harder than it should, and you feel your throat tighten.

“I should go,” you stand up, not wanting to have any more of this conversation. You wish Jungkook would just drop it. You told him, you were upset – but he’s making a big deal about it. 

Jungkook stands up too, stepping closer to you. His height looms over you, but his presence feels calm and collected. 

“You could,” he says in that deep voice. “But you won’t.” 

You take in a sharp breath when he presses until you can feel the heat of his body. You’re confused about the sudden turn of events, but there’s something about Jungkook right now, his voice dropping low, his gaze… almost as if…

“Oh?” you decide to challenge him, not wanting to waver.

“You stayed. And now you’re standing this close,” he says, gaze dropping to your mouth. “Looking like you want me to make you forget why you were upset in the first place.” 

You swallow, suddenly feeling heated in that other way. 

“A-and if I do?” 

One hand brushes past your hip, and you stand there grounded, unconsciously holding your breath. 

“Then you let me.” 

You kiss him first – not really sure why and how it happened – but you do, on instinct. Wrapping your arms around his neck and pressing your lips to his. It’s fast, and there’s frustration from you bubbling under, heat blooming behind your ribs like a fuse finally lit. 

Jungkook kisses you back harder though, catching you on time – always catching you on time – walking you backwards into the living room where he lays you down on the couch, hovering over you.

His voice is rough against your skin when he breaks away to whisper, “Are you still upset?” 

Your hands grip his shirt. “I would be if you don’t continue kissing me.” 

That makes him smile, murmuring, “You’re a brat.” 

“Do you like it?” 

He inhales a sharp breath against your jaw, nipping. “I really do.” 

In an instant, his hands were around your waist, your back pressed against the back of the sofa. Your breath hitches when his mouth drops to your ear, making your knees weaken slightly.

“Do you– do you kiss everyone you disappoint like this?” you mutter, hands sliding under his shirt where you feel his abs clench.

“No,” he says, lips peppering kisses down your neck, voice low. It sends shivers down your spine and makes your thighs clench together. “Just the ones who microwave chicken for me.”

It earns a chuckle from you – sharp, breathless – and tug the collar of his shirt, starting to undo his buttons until sculpted chest is revealed. You’re about to pull the material off him when Jungkook catches your wrist.

“Still upset?” he asks.

You click your tongue. “Maybe.” 

He grins. “Good.” 

He kisses you again. Slow this time, like he knows you’d let him now. And you do. Your fingers dig into his shoulder as he deepens it, tongue brushing yours in a way that makes your head fog over. He tastes like wine and smugness… but you find you like it. Jungkook moves in such a way that screams he knows exactly what he’s doing. 

His shirt is off in a second, leaving him in his slacks and belt, mouth moving lower over your throat, your collarbone, until they reach your cleavage made easily accessible with the neckline of your camisole. You arch into the touch without much thinking, and when Jungkook whispers against the peak of your nipple if he could take your shirt off, you nod. 

“Sorry, this isn’t my proudest bra ever,” you tell him, fingers slipping through his hair. 

Jungkook chuckles. “I’m gonna take it off, anyway.” 

He lifts you up effortlessly, squeezing your ass as you yelp but helping you wrap your legs around his waist. Before you can say anything, he shuts up with a searing hot kiss, and you let him carry you to the bedroom with ginger steps, like he’d done it a hundred times before in his head. God, you hope he did just like you do. 

You don’t know how exactly it happened but your bra is off the moment he lowers you down on the bed, tugging the cups off your chest and letting his hand take reign on one boob while he licks the other one with his hot tongue, swirling it around your nipple that makes you gasp and shift on the bed. 

“Oh, Jungkook…”

Crawling over you, you meet his heavy gaze as he asks, “Are you sure about this?” 

If the heat in between your thighs is any more indication of how sure you are, he can check. But you tug him down by the waistband of his slacks to tell him, “I’ve been sure.” 

“Just checking, because once we start…” he murmurs, gaze dropping on your lips. As if he can’t help it, he closes his mouth around yours. Then his hand slides down, feathery touch causing goosebumps all over your skin. It stops on your inner thigh where you take a sharp breath because he was so close to where you wanted him to be. 

“I want you now,” you say, a bit irritated. 

He chuckles, dark. Low. He retracts his hand and smirks when you give him a glare. 

“I wanna take my time with you, sweetheart. Don’t rush me.” 

To prove his point, he kisses you again – hot and passionate, but also aguishly slow like he’s savoring every brush of your tongue and he has all the time in the world for it. 

You’re flushed beneath him, breathless as his hands wander all over your body. He nips the skin of your neck, obviously teasing, leaving goosebumps on his trail. When his hand cups the heat in between your legs, your hips unconsciously buck, your grip on his shoulders tightening at the contact. 

“I should’ve come to dinner,” he murmurs, kissing the corner of your mouth. 

“Y-yeah,” you manage, “you should’ve.” 

“I can’t believe I missed this yesterday.”

You gasp when his thumb presses on your mound, feeling like you’ve been electrocuted by the touch. Jungkook seems to take note of your oversensitivity, as he watches you with your mouth hanging slightly open.  

“Don’t worry, baby. I plan to make it up to you real good,” he leans back for a second to tug the waistband of your pants, and you don’t hesitate to lift yourself up a little to help him slide it off your legs together with your panties. You bite your bottom lip as you observe him watching the way the material clings to your pussy at the slickness. A smirk tugs at his lips. “I guess I’ve made you wait too long, didn’t I?” 

Your reply dissolves into a sharp inhale as he puts two of his fingers in his mouth and wedges them in between your folds, leaning down to plant a kiss on your parted mouth. His fingers move inside you, curling in slow rhythm, his thumb teasing just enough to keep your hips lifting off the bed.

“You’re so soaked, and I haven’t even touched you properly yet,” he slowly slides them out, smirking when you whimper at the loss of contact. He inserts them again, this time taking on a steady pace. His fingers make you feel so full, just like they did back at the motel – and you wouldn’t dare lie to yourself and say you haven’t been looking forward to this again. By the way you can’t keep the soft moans escaping past your lips, Jungkook must’ve known too. 

Slick sounds bounce off the wall, and you try to keep it to a minimum by minimizing your moans and pressing the back of your hand to your mouth but Jungkook catches your wrist quickly, as if he knew what you were about to do.

“No, baby, let me hear you,” he says, pinning your hand up against the headboard. “I want to know how much you want this, how much you like my fingers fitting right in your pussy,” he looks down, then unexpectedly, he brings his soaked digits up to your face. Your cheeks flush in embarrassment when you see how wet they are with your juices, whimpering when he inserts them in his mouth with no second thoughts, licking them obscenely. You whimper when he shuts his eyes close, looking intoxicated. 

“Shit,” he hisses, “Tastes just as good as I remember it.” 

“J-jungkook,” you whine, wanting him to do something already. 

“I know,” he smirks, a little smug. “Should I go faster? Is that what you like?” 

“Please…” you cry out, holding on to his wrist.

He chuckles darkly and just as when you were about to say something else again, he curls the same fingers in you, but this time he plunges them in and out at a faster pace. At that, you don’t hold back the moans you’ve been keeping trapped in your throat. 

Legs tensing, Jungkook continues to fuck you with his fingers, moving like an expert; determined to make you fall apart – and you’re nothing but soft cries, heated, fingers tightening around his wrist as your orgasm creeps up your toes to your spine. 

“F-fuck…” you sigh when Jungkook dives in your chest again, nipping and sucking at the flesh you were sure he was going to leave marks. “Feels so good, Koo…” 

He hums against your skin, curling his fingers and digging in deep that your thighs shake uncontrollably. But Jungkook’s hold on your hip is firm, not enough to hurt, but enough to keep you from thrashing underneath him at the overwhelming pleasure. 

“Yeah? You’re making such a mess on my hand, baby,” he husks out.

“S-sorry.”

He chuckles. “You’re beautiful,” He breaks away from your tits to stare at you. Moving away some of the hair that has gotten on your face, he says, “Are you close?” 

“Yes, god, yes. Please, I’m so close…” 

You can feel yourself about to reach your climax, so you move your hand to seek relief to your clit. But Jungkook catches you off-guard when he moves further down your body. You let out a lewd moan when he licks along your slit, sucking in your folds – your juices making a wet, spongy sound as he slurps. When he closes his mouth around your clit, you cry out and grab his hair quite harshly. 

But Jungkook only hums against your pussy, the vibration only making you drip more. He ravishes your nub with his tongue, quick and steady, and so are his fingers in and out of your pussy. 

“Oh my god,” you moan, body convulsing at your impending orgasm, shutting your eyes close and focusing on the way his tongue tugs at your clit. “Kook, I’m coming, fuck, I’m gonna cum—” 

He pulls off with a smack only to tell you “in my mouth” before going back to business again. You listen to his small grunts, his hums, and until then, you feel your body spasming when the coil at your stomach breaks.  

Jungkook puts his hand on your lower stomach, pressing you down as you wriggle underneath him, thighs shaking at your orgasm. He licks until you’re pulling his head out of your mound. He takes his fingers out of your spongy walls, spreading your wetness instead around your folds, as if calming you down from your high.

“Good, baby, good…” he murmurs, gripping your thighs to steady you. Then he leans down and presses kisses over them.

You let your back relax on the mattress, shutting your eyes close and catching your breath.

You hear a drawer pull open, and when you finally open your eyes, you see Jungkook with a condom pinched in between his fingers.

“I’m not done with you yet,” Jungkook skates his fingers through his hair, and you suddenly got the urge to jump him right then and there when you saw the sheer wetness on his jaw, his sculpted chest and the abdominal muscles that sit perfectly on his stomach, his tattoo sleeve – he looked like an absolute dream then, but you knew you were in for a ride when your eyes cast a look at the erection inside his slacks. Jungkook makes quick work of unbuckling his leather belt, and the way the metal clink with each other scratches a part of your brain that screams want, want, want and maybe Jungkook caught on, because he follows your gaze to the belt, clicking his tongue when he throws the leather away somewhere on the floor.

“Next time, sweet girl,” he says, sounding like he meant it. You can feel your cheeks heating under his gaze and the implication of his words, chest pounding as he unbuttons and unzips his pants together with his boxers. 

“I…” You watch in quiet fascination when his rock hard dick slaps against his lower abdomen, biting your lip at the sight. It was just as long and girthy as you remember it.

He hums. “You want to play next time, we’ll do that. But eyes up here first,” Jungkook instructs, and you do look at him when he says so, feeling your legs clamping together at his slightly commanding tone. He tugs your legs to pull you closer to the edge of the bed, and so you lift off the mattress slightly and rest your elbows against the soft sheets. Jungkook smiles at you as he kneels between your spread legs, “You look beautiful like this, baby. Do you know how much I’ve been wanting to do this?” he asks as he rips open the condom, pinching the tip and putting it over his cock in quick succession. 

“I’ve been waiting for you…” you say, not really sure what you mean, touching his chest because you can. He’s so warm and so big, and your pussy aches at the thought of him finally entering you.

It felt greedy, to want to cum again when you just did not even a full minute ago.

“I know,” he strokes his cock for good measure, and you let out a soft gasp when he hikes your leg over his hip, nudging your other leg to the side. He inserts a finger in your pussy, hissing at your wetness. “Fuck, you are soaked, baby…” 

“Put it in,” You whine, chest heaving up and down as you watch Jungkook with half-lidded eyes. His hand wraps around his dick, strokes it for a moment before gripping near the tip and bringing it closer to your aching heat. 

You moan when the first inch of his cock goes in, mouth gaping at the intrusion. Jungkook’s eyebrows knit as he adjusts your leg higher on his hip, pushing deeper. 

“Look at me,” he instructs, “You can take it, right, baby? You’re so wet, so pretty…” 

“I– yes, yes– shit,” you let out a shaky breath, “you’re s-so big, fuck,”

“You’re taking it so well,” he murmurs, voice low and dripping with honey. He gives a gentle, almost subtle thrust that almost knocks you out of the bed.

“Yes, yes, fuck… give it to me, Kook, I want you so bad…”

“Yeah? I’m gonna move in a sec, angel, play with your tits for me.”

You nod your head and do as told, letting your hands wander all over your body before fondling your breasts, moaning instantly at the pleasure. 

“Tell me if it hurts,” is what he says before he slips an arm beneath your waist, holding you up, a shudder escaping past his lips when he slowly pushes more past your tight walls. You choke out a moan, a broken sob coming out of it when he finally bottoms out inside of you.

“Ah…” 

He hisses, fingers digging at your waist as he withdraws from your heat and only the tip of his cock is in you, the scene with it sitting on your soaked pussy enough to send him into an overdrive. 

“You’re so fucking tight holy fuck,” he seethes, forcefully snapping his hips back into you and finally picking up a pace that makes you whimper and cry out pathetic little moans, mind becoming fuzzy at the thrusts of his cock in your entrance. 

Your walls clench at the glide of his cock against you, feeling him falter at the little stunt. But you can’t help it. Your body is on fire as Jungkook lets out a guttural groan, pulling you flush against his cock until the thin hairs around the base of his dick are tickling your skin. Your elbow shake as it loses balance, but Jungkook is quick to catch you just on time, leaning down to hover over your body, but it only makes the angle of his fuck deeper, and maybe he meant to do that too. 

Your hands are quick to wrap around his shoulders as you feel the tip of his cock prodding against your cervix like he’s going all out, your hips jumping as he rams back inside. 

He repeats the movement like a graceful dancer, thrusts deep and purposeful, pulling out wailing sounds from you you begin to worry if the neighbors could hear. He tucks his head against your neck and presses a kiss on the junction between your neck and shoulder, rocking his hips into you, pistoning into your squelching heat. His body is so close, so warm, sweaty skin gliding against yours.

“Fuck, fucking hell, baby – fuck, you feel so good,” Jungkook growls, finding your mouth and kissing you again. His hips snaps back into you once again, and you both swallow each other’s moans at the contact, letting your bodies rock to the sound of your fucking. His hand is on your chest immediately, squeezing everywhere until it settles on pinching your nipple between his fingers. 

“Jungkook– ah, baby— fuckkkkk,” You shudder, feeling your pussy quiver at every snap and every withdrawal, and when he brings his hand to your clit and rubs it in quick circles, you screw your eyes shut, feeling that familiar wave again for the second time that night. 

“Jungkook–” 

“You’re gonna be a good girl and come for me, sweet girl?” Jungkook rasps out, sweaty forehead coming into view as he jackhammers into your pussy with ease, welcomed by your never-ending slick. You never thought you’d see Jungkook like that, fucking like a crazed caveman, looking like he can’t get enough but also straining himself a bit to not hurt you – because of course he wouldn’t. 

“Fuck me harder, Kook, I need it– need you to… need you to—”

“Yeah?” he rocks harder, faster just like you said, and you can honestly start to feel the slight pain on your chest as they bounce at the speed, your hand flying to grab at your chest. 

“I’m so close,” you cry out, unconsciously reaching for him and feeling like you’re on edge. Jungkook takes your hand and encloses it around his, thrusting into you once again before whispering against your skin to let go. 

As if that was a magic phrase, you feel something inside you snap. 

“Good girl, I knew you’d come for me, you always do,” Jungkook slurs. You could feel your cum dribbling out of your pussy, creaming his cock, but Jungkook continues ramming himself past your clenched lips and into your spasming hole, grunting against your skin, mouth leaving random, open-mouthed kisses. 

He drills on, and his cock still feels so achingly hard, seemingly not anywhere near completion yet. You’re nearly mush beneath him from your current release, but you push through it as you press your hands to his chest, forceful enough to send him tumbling a little. He’s caught off-guard by that, and you take that to your advantage as you maneuver yourself to push him completely on his back, his cock sliding out of you. 

He bounces off the mattress a little, looking at you curiously as you straddle his waist. Your sensitive pussy shudders at the cold of the AC in his room, and you feel like your bones have been liquefied, but you don’t let that deter you from taking ahold of his still, indeed, hard cock and sitting on it. 

Jungkook inhales a sharp breath as he watches you bounce on his cock, the head disappearing and appearing in your entrance, like a show he would want to replay over and over again. And you’re determined, stretching your body and leaning back to rest your palms on his thighs for support as you take his dick, switching to a back and forth motion.

“Oh, Jungkook, god – oh my god,” and although it was supposed to be for him – for him to cum – you can honestly feel yourself about to snap again, especially when Jungkook reaches forward to rub your tit, caressing your tattoo underneath with that hungry look in his eyes, and settling on your hips like he’s enjoying the little show you’re putting up for him. 

“That’s it baby, bounce on my cock – you’re doing so we…ll,” he encourages, but there’s a slight break to his tone at the end. “Shit, keep going – fuck. I’m so fucking close– you look so good,” 

You swallow the saliva trapped in your throat to pick up your pace, feeling lightheaded at the overwhelming feeling of his cock prodding against your cervix everytime you go forth. His dick brushes past your clit everytime you move, and you throw your head back when you feel him starting to thrust upward. 

“Are you close again, baby?” Jungkook asks, gripping your hips tight as he meets your ministration. You bite your lip at the question, only whimpering when Jungkook bucks his hips harshly. “Cum for me a third time, pretty girl. Cum with me.” 

“Jungkook, I can’t, I’m so sensitive. I–”

“You can, angel. And you will.”

You mewl when Jungkook reaches for your pussy with his other hand, quickly finding your clit to rub against it again, and that pushes you to the edge quickly – orgasm snapping on an instant just like that. 

Jungkook’s hips stutter, breath caught in between a curse and your name, like the sound of you undid him completely. It was a sound that you heard three days ago when he came in your mouth.

“Fucking hell,” he hisses, hips faltering at his orgasm. “Shit…” 

You drop your body unceremoniously onto him, the exhaustion hitting you all at once.

Wrapping his hands around your body very gently, you feel Jungkook kissing the side of your head, making you shut your eyes close. 

“Jesus.” you blurt out, whole body spent.

“Didn’t know you were religious like that…” He says with a chuckle, caressing your hair mindlessly.

You snap your head quickly to look at him at the familiar words, narrowing your eyes. Jungkook only presses a kiss to your shoulder as if that was some sort of apology, and you let it go with a playful shake of your head.

“Do you still feel bad about missing dinner?” You ask with a smile on your face. 

He let out a low laugh, and the vibration through his chest feels warm against your skin. 

“I’m working on making it up to you.” 

“Does it really involve making me cum three times in a single night?” you arch your brow. “I think you’re overcompensating.” 

Jungkoo gives you a nonchalant shrug. “Maybe.”

And before you can say anything, he flips you over and kisses you again, which makes you giggle into his mouth.  

all right reserved © awrkive, 2025. no reposts, modification, translations, and copying allowed. if you enjoy my work/s and have the extra means, please consider supporting me on ko-fi <3

[violetcamryn]

HTTYD NSFW ALPHABET - Snotlout Jorgenson (live action ver.)

Snotlout Jorgenson (live action version) x fem!reader

Warnings: Smut (18+)

AN: For the sake of this post and all future HTTYD posts, Snotlout is at LEAST 18 years old (in my mind, he is early 20’s) . Wrote this because there is not nearly enough content out there for live action Snotlout (or even Snotlout x reader in general). Also darn you Gabriel Howell for re-igniting my HTTYD & Snotlout obsession

A = Aftercare: The KING of aftercare. He’ll run you a hot shower, then hop in with you and help you wash off. All while massaging your shoulders like his life depends on it. Then he’ll tuck you into bed and crawl in with you for the night.

B = Body Part (their favourite on you & on themselves): On himself, it’s his arms (shoulders included). He loves to flex in the mirror and flex to you anytime he gets. You definitely don’t mind though, because he is actually pretty built. On you, it’s your thighs. He loves to rest his head in your lap when you’re alone together, and he’ll just trace meaningless lines up and down your thighs with his fingers. He especially loves when you play with his hair as he’s laying in your lap. He’d never let anybody else see him this vulnerable, but you’re the exception.

C = Cum: INSIDE. I think this man might have a breeding kink…he absolutely loves hitting it raw.

D = Dirty Secret: He likes to be on the bottom every once in a while. He really enjoys when you’re on top, he’ll be looking up at you during sex with those big puppy dog eyes and just letting himself enjoy the moment. He also would not mind if you tied his hands up to experiment, he’s just not confident enough to ask for it yet. None of this is really a secret between the two of you, but it is most certainly a secret to everyone else.

E = Experience: He’s slightly experienced. He used to get around in his mid-to-late-teen years but he didn’t enjoy it much. He sort of saw it as a right-of-passage thing, but when he started dating you things really started to heat up. He’s learned quite a few tricks since you started having sex and he’s a very skilled man now.

F = Favourite Position: If he’s on top, d0ggy. He loves being able to grab your hips and waist while you’re getting it on, and plus he can get a better grip of your hair from behind (🤭). If he’s on the bottom, literally anything. He does not complain. He’s just happy to be there.

G = Goofy: Absolutely goofy at the right times. Definitely not all the time, but he lets a joke go every now and then. He enjoys it when you banter back to him too, it keeps him from worrying that he’s being TOO goofy.

H = Hair:

1) Upstairs He’s a hair puller. He doesn’t like his hair to be pulled, but you both enjoy it when he pulls yours. He would never do it if you weren’t comfortable though, but he knows you love it. However, he does love when you play with his hair after y’all are done having sex. The feeling of your fingers running through his hair and massaging his scalp just does something to him.

2) Downstairs He keeps himself well groomed. Not necessarily clean-shaven but he likes it neat and tidy. He doesn’t care whatsoever about what you do with yours, he’s just happy to feel the touch of a woman.

I = Intimacy: He loves when it’s just the two of you in his room, curled up under the blankets, talking late at night. He cherishes those moments with his whole heart. It was hard for him to open up at the beginning, but you’ve slowly chipped away at his walls and now talking to you might just be his favourite thing. He also loves when you two have slow and intimate sex. When you spend time just feeling each-other and not rushing to the finish line.

J = Jerking Off: He used to (a LOT) before you started dating. But now he doesn’t see the point when he’s got such a beautiful girl. He’ll only ever do it if you’re away for a long period of time on some sort of mission. But it’s never the same and he always wishes it was you instead of his hand.

K = Kinks: PRAISE KINK. The moment you call him a “good boy” or tell him how good he makes you feel, he’s in heaven. He thrives on words of affirmation and affection.

L = Location: Anytime, anywhere, except in public. He will always be ready for whenever you want him. He won’t do anything in a public place (because that requires letting his guard down in front of people who aren’t YOU), but any private location he can find, you best believe y’all have fucked there before. His secret location fantasy would be in a secluded hot spring.

M = Motivation: When he sees you after a long day of dragon training, he is immediately in the mood. I mean when is he not in the mood? This man is down bad for his girl.

N = No’s: He will never hit you, even if you ask, it’s a hard line in the sand for him. He also would never be comfortable with having sex in a public space.

O = Oral:

Receiving He’s into it if you’re into it. He would never want to pressure you into doing something you weren’t comfortable with, but now that he knows YOU enjoy it, he’s all for it. Gets him turned on just thinking about it.

Giving This man is a MUNCH. I cannot see him any other way. He is down bad for his woman and will give and give to your hearts content.

P = Pace: Slow and sensual, or fast and furious. There is no in between for him. It really depends on both of your moods. Some days the only thing he wants is some slow intimacy, and there’s other times where he fucks like a mad man. He will be sure to cater to your wants and desires first and foremost though.

Q = Quickies: Depends. If he’s stressed out and needs to let the feelings out, he is absolutely into it. But most of the time he likes to take his time with you and not rush through. And honestly it’s hard to find a place in Berk that’s appropriately hidden for a quickie.

R = Risks: He is totally into experimenting with you, as long as it’s not one of his “no’s”. But role-play or restraints? Absolutely something he wants to try out.

S = Stamina: He can go multiple rounds most days, but there are some times where he’s just so exhausted from the days work that he’ll go one round, clean you both up, and fall right asleep. It’s not his fault you’re so nice to lay next to, he can’t help that he falls asleep so quickly.

T = Toys: N/A (we’re in viking times people, i’m not introducing medieval torture devices)

U = Unfair: Snotlout is a total tease. He’ll grab your ass in public when he thinks nobody’s looking, and he knows you love it. During sex he’ll ask you dirty questions when he knows you can’t focus enough to answer, just to show himself how good he’s making you feel. However you are also quite the tease. You’ll get him all turned on at an inconvenient time, and you’ll watch him try to focus on the task he was previously doing (and failing miserably now, because all he can think about is you).

V = Vocal: WHINY. I just know this man is vocal and whiny in bed. Deep breathing, grunting, begging, the works. Now that he’s comfortable with you, he makes plenty of noise. He loves when you make noise in bed too, it really turns him on and gives him motivation.

W = Wild Card: He gets wildly jealous when you’re sitting close with any of the other guys. Not like a toxic level of jealousy, just enough that it makes him squirm. Even though he knows neither you nor any of the boys would betray him like that. He’ll always find a way to squeeze in to the conversation and make it about how he’s big and tough (you think it’s hilarious).

X = X-Ray: Above average size in both length and width. Cut. Keeps it well groomed. Safe to say he’s around 8 inches.

Y = Yearning: A secret yearner. He’ll write poems to you and keep them in his journal, never to see the light of day. He wrote so many that he had to get another journal after only a month. He’ll also draw candid sketches of you when you go on dates, and he’ll hesitantly show them to you once he’s finished. You are always sure to praise his drawings every chance you get because they’re actually spectacular. Deep down, he’s always been a romantic. He’d be sure to show you off every chance he got.

Z = Zzz: If you’re playing with his hair, he’s out cold in 5 minutes flat. He used to have a lot of trouble sleeping but not since you two got together. Now he sleeps like a baby (as long as you’re sharing a bed).

Hope you enjoyed! I’m still VERY new to writing smut so i hope this wasn’t too bad or too much. Feel free to leave feedback in the comments, and reblogs are much appreciated 💗

PS. Snotlout is just a big ol’ softie in my mind. A softie with a hard outer shell. But he’s adorable. A lot of fluff in this post but hopefully there was also enough smut to please y’all 😚 i’ll make GN!reader and M!reader versions eventually too

[bullet-prooflove]

Blood For Blood: Charlie Reid x Reader

Tagging:@kmc1989 @littleesilvia @wrestlequeen @ahopelessromanticwritersworld @beebeechaos

Brief mentions of torture and some gore.

Summary: Charlie's wrath leads to his worst nightmare...

Companion piece to:

Charlie - Charlie meets someone unexpected one night at his pool hall.

The Whole Damn Night - You aren't anything like Charlie expected.

Risk Management - Charlie realises the two of you have been keeping secrets from one another.

Deals With The Devil - Charlie's fall from grace starts with an act of love.

The Ghost That Lingers In The Nighttime - Charlie's becoming accustomed to the late night visits.

Who The Fuck Is Charlie? - You wake up calling for Charlie but noone knows who the fuck Charlie is.

The second time that Charlie kills for you he doesn’t even get his hands dirty. He makes one phone call to Jesus Otero and the guy that started all of this Rik Morrow is attacked in the prison showers.

Beaten, sodomised, tongue cut out.

It’s a fitting punishment for the man who goaded his brother into putting a hit out on you.

“I don’t want him dead.” He tells Otero over his burner as he sits his office right after the ‘Who The Fuck Is Charlie?’ meeting. “I want him to suffer, I want him to experience a lifetime of pain every single day and on the anniversary of her shooting I want you to take something so he remembers why this is happening. I don’t care what, an eye, a finger, a kidney, it’s dealer’s choice.”

The thing that Charlie’s learned over the years?

You don’t have to stop a man’s heart to murder him, you can systematically destroy his sanity and achieve the same result. He hopes that everytime Morrow gets dry fucked into his pillow that he rues the fucking day he met you.

It’s past midnight when he finally makes it back to the hospital. He’s spent the hours since the meeting studying the Intelligence reports on Chris Morrow, trying to whittle down where the son of a bitch has gone to ground. Nothing’s come to fruition yet but sometimes it’s a waiting game. The problem is Charlie hates the waiting, he wants this whole thing over and done with so that you can come home and recovery safely.

He strips out of his CPD jacket in the parking lot of the hospital, folding it into the trunk of his car. He keeps the gun on his hip, along with the badge because he’s written up far too many dumbasses who have left their gun in the glove compartment only to have their car stolen, their weapon out there killing civilians.

He’s thinking about the new book he has tucked under his arm when he steps into the elevator. He’s decided to try a different tactic tonight, read you one of those god awful dinosaur romance novels you keep sending to his office as a joke. If anything will wake you again it’ll be ‘Ballin’ with the Billionaire Brontosaurus’. The edges of his mouth tip up as he remembers your hysterical laugh when you saw the business suit the damn thing was wearing on the cover.

“They classed it up with a little Armani this time.” He’d remarked as he flicked through the pages on the couch, your head resting on his chest. “But it’s still fucking nasty, he’s like what a million feet tall which means his dick…”

You’d fallen apart again then, your body vibrating against his as you buried your face into the hollow of his throat to stifle your laugher. Charlie had gathered you up in his arms, book forgotten as he kissed away the salt rolling down your cheeks.

He’s still smiling when he steps off the elevator, heading towards your room. His boots squeak on the tiles underfoot as he walks the empty hallway. Nowhere else does this happen, just this fucking floor in this fucking hospital.

He’s almost to the door when he hears the pops.

Three of them in quick succession. Each low boom ripples through the air, causing the book under his arm to slip from his grasp as he reaches for the SIG on his hip. He knows the sound of a suppressor when he hears one, especially when it’s on a semi-automatic.

His hand comes to rest on the door handle, his heart thudding against his ribcage as he twists it slowly. He nudges the open slowly with his boot, peering through the slender gap as it widens.

There’s blood on the wall, speckles of grey brain matter cling to it in clumps, each one leaving a sticky trail as they race towards the floor. He clenches his jaw, drawing in a shaky breath to force down the bile climbing in his throat as his stomach revolts. The stench of copper and cordite fills his nostrils, the acrid taste settling on his tongue.

He shoulders the door open the rest of the way to find himself staring down the barrel of a Glock 21. His finger flexes on the trigger as his shoe catches on the body, missing the back of it’s head, splayed out across the tiles. Sandy blond mingles with the blood and the bone fragments, matted within the gore. He doesn’t need to see the face to know that it’s Chris Morrow. He can tell from that fucking swastika etched into the side of his neck.

He never thought that asshole would be stupid enough to come here but he did, he came to finish the job and Charlie, he let it happen.

His gaze flickers back up to you, your hands trembling as you lower the gun so it’s pointing at the tiles. There’s blood blossoming in two places across your white hospital gown, the stain growing quickly as Charlie jams his gun back in his holster.

You follow his stare, swallowing hard as you fixate at crimson liquid that leaks down your torso.

“I must have reopened my wounds when I broke his wrist, trying to get the gun.” You say as you set Glock down carefully on the sheets. You press your palm to the wound above your left breast, trying to stifle the blood as it flows through your fingers.

You must have ripped out your IV as well because there’s burgundy droplets scattered throughout the white linen, the tubing hanging loose from the saline bag.

“Em.” He says gently as he stands in the midst of his own nightmare, trying to not to disrupt anymore of the crime scene. “I’m gonna have to call this in.”

“Call the doctor too.” You advise as you start to waver, the colour draining from your face as you pull your hand away, studying the red smeared across your fingertips. “I’m sorry Charlie but I think I’m about to pass out.”

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Like My Work? - Why Not Buy Me A Coffee

[energetic-creeper]

Ok this post has been infecting my brain ever since I saw it, and i have a few ideas of how i would do the concept of IceWing protest fashion:

Initial movement: Noch

The initial ‘Noch’ movement (Russian for Night) would likely be quite different to the human punk movement, by necessity of infrastructure and technology, as well as some differences in origin. This movement would largely be based on the SandWing punk movement, and the counterculture of advocating for peace, especially after the empathy enchantment at the end of arc 2. It would likely initially start as a peaceful protest movement, advocating for the NightWings to ceasefire, but after they come back under Glory’s rule and open international cooperation, this narrative would likely change to urging the IceWing upper class to accept the cooperation. After the IceWing plague, one of the greatest massacres Pyrrhia has ever seen, second only to the scorching itself, the ruling class would be understandably hesitant to open cooperation again. They stick their necks out for a year, and suddenly the devil himself comes out of a mountain and wipes out half their population? No thank you. Nice experiment, 0/10, never again. But a small fraction of the populace, especially those living on the border villages or even outside the main kingdom, would reject this notion, seeing the potential for empathy and cooperation within other tribes, and the flaws of the IceWing’s own militaristic, brutal way of commanding their citizens. This makes the movement very similar in motivation to the SandWing punk movement in motivation, but with the added motives of inter-tribal empathy, specifically to and from the NightWings. The most iconic part of this movement would be the red and black dye used throughout, often in tandem with or replacing their natural white scales. Due to the fact that Polar bear skin is inherently black, and with careful tanning this colour can be preserved (this would also make the tanning process safer due to weaker alkali being used). However, the movement also uses a lot of face paint and makeup, traditionally made from charcoal. Such charcoal would be obviously unviable to import in large quantities with the closed borders and everything, so they instead something they do have access to. Iron. Iron filings, forge waste, even some types of rust, can all be mixed with treated fats to create a pseudo paint. This would be oil based, so comfortable to wear on extremities such as the spines for extended periods. However, this would likely stick far more than traditional makeup, making it more similar to hair dye in that you only have to upkeep it every few weeks or so. The red would be a bit more sparse. Some would import insect based dyes from the Sand kingdom, specifically Cochineal, but that would be rare within the mainland Ice Kingdom, as once again trade is very cut off. So, they make do with animal products. And what’s red in animals? That’s right, blood! IceWings hunt their food directly, so animal blood is no foreign concept, and even the available black dyes are expensive. And it serves a direct function: causing complete social uproar and outcry. Those that use this method make a very clear statement: “We IceWings are a violent tribe by nature.” This statement isn’t used to decry IceWings as a race, but as a culture. It objects to the violence and brutality within all walks of IceWing life by bringing the grim truth to the surface. This is accented in how they use it: some prefer to simply use it as eyeshadow or to line their spines, but others use is as blood, simulating fake wounds and wartime injuries, but with red blood instead of their normal blue. However, as the movement expands and becomes more mainstream, this aspect will inevitably fall away, leaving the aesthetic of fake injuries without the wartime narrative behind it.

Orthodoxy

 The counter movements to this Noch aesthetic would likely include IceWing orthodoxy, which would effectively be more intense versions of the previous aesthetic. This would involve making more elaborate and more dramatic displays of military discipline and uniformity, creating a strange dynamic where everyone is trying their hardest to stand out by being the most “IceWing” they can be. This movement would involve many elaborate whites and blues, along with fine jewellery and silverwork designed to iconographise fractal ice lattices and shards, often woven into spears and other weapons. The clothes are characterised by their sharp, white, symmetrical designs, with rigid structures designed to accentuate the spines and white features of the wearer. It would also likely include items to accentuate other unique traits, such as the claws or the tail end, encrusting these with jewellery or the occasional spot of icy blue colour. This would obviously be a movement almost exclusive to the upper class, as keeping clothes white even in the arctic is no easy task, let alone the quality of jewellery and ornamentation used. Those in the lower classes who attempted to imitate this style would likely use tanned polar bear skins without removing the hair, though smaller arctic mammals such as rabbits or foxes may be used instead. These hides are then cut into precise shape and folded into eachother, creating the angular shoulders and sleek white looks iconic to the design. These would be difficult to maintain, so would likely only be worn at special or formal events, rather than day to day use.

Brilliance

The second counter movement would likely argue that the Noch movement misses the point, it focuses far too much on NightWings, and doesn’t acknowledge the xenophobia that IceWings as a culture have displayed even to their allies. This movement, known as the ‘Brilliance’ movement would take the Noch movement and make it brighter. Bright red, blues, greens, would all be commonplace. Some choose to mix their IceWing white with one or two others, either colder colours like blue or green, or warmer colours like red or orange. Some would deliberately colour themselves to represent all 7 tribes, going so far as to colour their entire body, leaving only the face and talons their original white. This is considered an incredibly important aspect, as even these “extremist multiculturalists” want to preserve their own IceWing heritage and culture, as well as not pretending to be another tribe. The logistics of getting these dyes are actually quite interesting, as many of colours are completely available through arctic plants and flowers found in the summertime, which for a commoner at this technological level would be positively vibrant. The only colour really missing would be black, which has already been covered. This style would focus much more on clothing than on paints and makeup, however for events and celebrations such makeup would still be worn, usually imported rather than made directly, but some improvised paints could be used.

Rags

This would be less of a counter movement and more of a continuation, but the Rags movement as I call it would take the anti-establishment anti-authority elements from Noch and Punk and double down. This movement is characterized by artificial spines along the entire body, either to accentuate or add to the existing ones. These spines would be created with a combination of animal bone and wax, and bonded to the skin with a similar process. As this restricts movement of the skin beneath, they are rarely placed on traditional spots like the neck or tail, instead they are placed on the legs and wings, supported by much larger spikes along the back. These spikes would often be large and heavy things, and as such would be placed close to the centre of mass. Smaller spikes along the snout, horns, and knuckles are also common, and these are generally the areas where self-expression and creativity are most common. In some more violent or controversial members, these smaller spines are sometimes sharpened metal, especially the ones on the talons. A common addition is a long thin spike along the thumb to act as an effective weapon at all times, without causing too much difficulty in day to day life.

I would make art of these but quite frankly I don’t think I have the attention span rn. I might make some later tho.

Hello! It’s me again :3

So you already covered that you think sandwings are punk and what you think seawings styles are. But what do you think the other tribes aesthetic’s are/how they dress? Thank you for your time!

Hi! thanks for the question! This was an amazing chance for me to explore more alt styles!

Goth Icewings: why it would(n't) work

About the Goths

Museum of youth culture defines goth as a music genre, fashion scene and cultural bubble usually pertaining to a 'dark' aesthetic, stating 'Goth developed from various other youth subcultures, including punk... in the late 1970s to a more commercial visibility in the 1990s. ' It has the same loose political origins as its punk cousin, even if these ideologies are slightly less visible/represented through mainstream media. in the context of the icewings, I think goth would be more about the ice/nightwing feud - specifically as a promotion of peace and unity between tribes. I'll talk more about that later, as this post explores the many ways goth fashion could work - and not work - on Phyrria.

There are also a handful of other cultures/fashion styles I can see being present in rural icewing villages, which I do plan on exploring in the future! The only reason I chose goth this week was because I was listening to goth music and ended up liking it a lot.

The Magic Behind the Makeup

Now that we understand what Goth fashion means to Phyrria, the bigger question remains: how the FUCK did they get to look like that? Figuring this out actually ended up being pretty difficult the more I thought about it, because there are a number of different logistical issues that arise when it comes to dragon makeup. For one, Icewings have little to no access to fire - any dyes or makeup would have to be either imported charcoal, squid ink, or other pigment - which would be expensive to northern villages. Secondly, applying water-based makeup must be a literal nightmare if you life in the tundra. All products would have to be oil-based (which is actually not too unreasonable, given that the Icewings have unlimited access to seal fat.) But still, would these products even last? The short answer is no: goth icewings would need to be seriously dedicated in order to consistently dress this way. (Although, that does add well to the peace message.)

but moving on to the 'hairstyles,' what are icewings doing to achieve this? For sake of this headcanon, I am going to assume the spines don't have nerve endings, and are also able to move with enough time and pressure. Using enough wires and pressure, Icewings may be able to give themselves 'braces' for their spines - twisting them into the right shape over the course of a few years, and keeping them in place using the nightly retainer routine. (I can feel your mouth hurting right now.) but hey, it would certainly hurt more if the icewings tried to use a straightener.

I imagine there are some permanent things you can do to become goth, like dying your spikes with ink or getting a tattoo. Clothes could also be made to last - or alternatively, 'tattered' clothing could just become part of the look. You could also argue that the goth look would be easy to achieve if it were born outside of the icewing kingdom but pioneered by icewings, somewhere like jade mountain.

Why Jade Mountain, and Why not now?

I imagine goth fashion would be more than controversial, both in and out of the icewing kingdom: especially given how violent (and a lot of the time unprovoked) nightwing violence on icewings is. My best example is definitely from book one, where Morrowseer has the nightwings slaughter all 6(?) icewing prisoners in Queen Scarlet's arena. While these dragons would've probably died in the arena anyways, the attack could still be interpreted by icewings as and act of hatred. So, the ideals behind goth fashion - striving for diplomacy, peace and an end to the conflict - are probably not fit to live in the same timeframe as any of the current books.

Knowing this, I first argued that the best place for goth fashion to go would probably be Jade Mountain Academy. Being the only place where young dragons of both tribe can interact without being in an explicitly violent setting, it could be a good starting point toward healing, grieving and discussing the feud. And this totally could've started during the JMA arc, but...

There is one small roadbump that prevents this happy ending.

Darkstalker's secret 4th power: Ruining Everything

JUST when the nightwings were out of the volcano and under a more reasonable leader, JUST when the sandwing succession war ended, JUST when a school opened specifically for teaching intertribe peace... Darkstalker (the bitch) decides to re-heat his own nachos and literally try to kill every single icewing via plague. And then fight them on top of a school.

Ultimately, I do think there is a place for Goth fashion in Phyrria, the same way there is a place for peace between the nightwings and icewings. But both of those things would require a time, effort and open-mindedness - as well as recognition of the wrongs committed on both sides, and ample opportunity to grieve.

Adopts! Wow!

I promised I would start making adopts to go with these fashion posts, and I am determined to commit to this. So, this lovely dragon you see above you is going to be available in my Kofi, right here! I named them Permafrost for my own convenience, but you can do whatever you want with this guy when they belong to you.

I'm literally scrambling to post this on time so I'll keep it short, but thank you all so much for your support! My pinned post contains a navigator toward any and all of my other fashion posts, as well as links to my discord server + socials. AND I SAW YOUR FASHION REQUESTS AND I LOVE THEM!

Later ( =ω= )

[jjeongkii]

only you, always you. — Jungkook one shot

finally posted something. now that i’m on summer break, i’ll try my best and post more often :) anyways i hope you’ll enjoy!!

bsfbrother!jk x reader

genre — smut, slight angst, friends to lovers.

summary — you’ve been close with your best friends brother, jungkook. maybe, too close. he’s five years older, dangerously hot, but unfortunately taken. but when you thrown a summer party and finally push his button too many times to the point, that he finally shows just how long he’s been waiting to make you his.

warnings — smut, unprotected sex, rough sex, fingering, oral (f. receiving), dirty talk, possessive behavior, jealousy, slight angst, praise kink, orgasm denial, creampie (removed condom), messy emotions, slight degradation, slight overstimulation, cheating, biting, soft aftercare

word count — 2,443

note — don’t be like them in real life, please.. be smart ^^

masterlist

you moved out of your home country to korea at a young age. while living in korea, you found a best friend. ever since then, you two have been friends for so long that you know her parents very well, they treat you like their own.

but what caught your attention the most was your best friend’s brother: jungkook. you two also became close friends, despite your five-year age gap. you’re 22, while jungkook is 27. but that didn’t stop you two from being friends.

jungkook, during his life, dated some girls, and you had your own experiences too. but no one has ever made jungkook get out of your head. the most gorgeous, handsome man you’ve ever known. right now, he’s in a “serious” relationship with someone… but no one really likes his girlfriend. not even jungkook himself.

on a summer day, you decided to host a party at your place, and you came visit your best friend, to invite her,and her brother, jungkook. you guessed she would be home. as you walked up to her house, you knocked on the door, expecting her to open it.

but surprise, surprise.

it was jungkook. he was shirtless, his abs, tattoos, and muscles all on display, wearing just a pair of shorts. he always looks so goddamn good, you just wanna devour him right here and now. even though you’ve seen this side of him so many times, it always hits the same.

“well damn, look who decided to show off today. tryna impress someone?” you teased, arching an eyebrow as you looked him up and down.

jungkook just laughed, leaning against the doorframe. “maybe i am, maybe i’m not. why, enjoying the view?”

you scoffed, not surprised by his cocky ass. “oh, please. don’t get ahead of yourself. anyways, i came here to tell you about the party I’m host—”

but jungkook cut you off, eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “wait, you? hosting a party? alright, alright. continue.”

“yeah, as i was saying, party. my place. tomorrow night. bring your sister too. and don’t bring your girlfriend, or whatever.”

jungkook just laughed. he wasn’t even planning on bringing her, he wanted you, and for you to have all of his attention.

fast forward. it was the day of the party. you were getting ready, slipping into a long silk dress with a little slit. it was basic, but sexy. your hair was straightened, makeup natural but still popping, and now for the best part, waiting for everyone… or more like waiting for him.

jungkook, on the other hand, wore a button-up shirt that showed off his sleeve tattoo, paired with black jeans. hair nicely done. he was ready, ready for the party, and especially for you.

everyone was showing up one by one, and you were welcoming each person that came. until finally,  jungkook walked in with his sister. she immediately spotted a group of friends she recognized and slipped away.

you arched a brow, arms crossed, but your eyes sparkled with a challenge.

“look who showed up. thought you’d never come,” you said with a small chuckle.

jungkook just looked at you, like he was trying to memorize you, before replying, “why wouldn’t i? i wouldn’t miss a party, would i?”

the party was going good. everyone was having fun, talking, laughing, all that stuff. some were already drunk, but not too drunk. people were snacking, dancing, vibing. everything was flowing, and everyone was just having a good time.

but you noticed.

jungkook, whenever he had the chance, was looking at you. admiring you. watching your every move. you could feel his eyes trail over you every time you laughed or leaned a little too close to someone. you saw it in his face, the slight clench of his jaw whenever you talked to another guy, like he was ready to knock him out on the spot.

finally, you walked up to him, voice low, teasing, dropping into a whisper, “you’ve been staring at me a lot. maybe all the time.”

jungkook didn’t even try to deny it. you were like a painting, a beautiful one, and the kind that was only ever meant to be his. “yeah,” he said, eyes dark. “can’t help it.”

you sat on one of the stools, leaning back behind the counter with a smirk tugging at your lips.

“you can never take your eyes off me, can you?”

jungkook leaned in closer, voice dropping, low and thick, dripping with want. “oh, believe me, that’s not the only thing i can take off.”

you smirked at jungkook’s cocky little comment, typical him. always saying shit like that and leaving you like it’s nothing, like he didn’t just drop a nuclear bomb between your thighs.

“that’s bold of you to say,” you muttered, sipping your drink. “pretty confident for someone who’s still stuck with that girlfriend of yours.”

and that, that hits him. you see it instantly: the flicker in his eyes, the way his jaw tensed.

“well, she’s not here… is she?” he shot back, his tone sharp, like you just cursed him out. “i didn’t bring her for a reason, and not because you told me to.”

“oh really? and what’s the other reason?” you leaned forward, your dress shifting just enough to show a little more thigh. you knew exactly what you were doing, and you were loving every second of it.

his gaze dropped, just for a split second, but you caught it. of course you did.

“for you,” he said, not even flinching. “i didn’t want to share my attention.”

before you could respond, some guy you barely knew stumbled up to you, clearly drunk down to the bones, and very clearly aiming for something. “why hello…” he slurred, standing way too close. “you look stunning tonight…”

you didn’t even have time to blink before jungkook stepped in, like he was the fucking flash or something. he slid between you and the drunk guy, his stare dangerous, like he was genuinely about to throw him off the planet.

“sorry to burst your bubble, dude, but she’s busy. now fuck off,” jungkook said. his voice was calm, but laced with something dark. possessive.

the guy scoffed, muttered something under his breath, then walked away. jungkook didn’t even look back, just turned to you like nothing happened.

“come with me. now.”

he didn’t ask. he said it. firm. commanding.

and for some reason, maybe it was the tone, the look in his eyes, the way your stomach flipped, you followed. through the hallway, past people, through the soft thump of bass and the echo of laughter. he pulled you into a room. not yours. not a guest room. just some random room no one gave a shit about.

door closed. silence.

“jungkook—” you started.

but he was already walking toward you. slow. deliberate. eyes burning.

“you think i haven’t noticed?” he said. “the way you look at me. the way you talk… everything you do. you want me to fucking lose it, don’t you?”

you licked your lips, holding his stare. “and what if i do?”

his smirk deepened, voice dropping an octave. hungry. heavy. “then you’re about to get everything you’ve been teasing me for.”

jungkook didn’t wait, not even for a second. 

one step closer, and your back was hitting the wall. his hands gripped your waist tight, not hard, but like he was finally claiming what he should’ve had all along. his lips crashed against yours like a starving man.

and maybe he had been.

and you? you kissed him back like it was the only thing keeping you alive. fingers tangled in his hair, tugging when he groaned into your mouth, tongue sliding against yours. it was messy. desperate. fucking hungry.

“you don’t know what you do to me,” he growled against your lips, voice thick with lust and frustration. “every time i see you, talk to you… fuck. this’ll sound so wrong but even when i’m with her… it’s you in my head. always.”

your breath caught. “you’re still with her,” you said, not because you cared. not right now. but because you wanted to hear him admit it.

he pressed his forehead to yours, breath hot, body flush against yours. “that relationship’s been dead. you really think i look at her like this? touch her like this?”

his hand grabbed your thigh, pulled it up around his waist, grinding into you.

you felt everything.

you bit your lip, heat pooling low in your stomach. “then why haven’t you left her?

“because i was a dumbass,” he spat, lips tracing down your jaw. “because i was too busy pretending i didn’t fucking want you. but not anymore.”

one hand slid up your dress, fingers trailing along your inner thigh. you gasped, arching into him.

“you wore this for me, didn’t you?” he murmured, pulling the silky fabric up around your hips. “shit… you’re already wet.”

he slipped two fingers into your panties, groaning when he felt how soaked you were. “damn, baby… this for me?”

you let out a breathy moan, nodding, barely able to form words. “all for you. always.”

“not her,” he muttered, slipping one finger in. “never her. just you.”

your head hit the wall, hand flying to his shoulder for support as he pumped his fingers in and out of you, slow but deep, like he was learning every inch of you.

you whimpered, breath shaky, legs trembling. “fuck… more…”

he didn’t hesitate. a second finger joined, and his mouth was back on yours, swallowing your moans and whimpers, biting your lower lip, breathing into you like you were oxygen.

you were grinding into his hand now, lost in the way he touched you like he owned you.

and he already was owning you.

“you don’t know how long i’ve wanted this,” he groaned. “wanted to fuck you senseless. show you. show you how much better i can be. how she never mattered.”

and you believed it. because no one, literally no one, touches you like this when they’re thinking of someone else, even when they’re in a relationship.

his fingers curled inside you just right, your back arching, nails digging into his shoulder.

“come for me,” he whispered against your lips. “and then… i’m fucking you for real.”

your legs were shaking, barely holding you up, and jungkook? he wasn’t letting you go, not when you were clenching around his fingers like that, dripping and breathless, body pressed up against the wall like you were meant to be there.

“jungkook…” you whimpered, voice soft and broken, “please…”

he pulled his fingers out slowly, letting your slick trail down his hand. then he brought them to his lips and licked them clean, eyes locked on yours.

“you taste like fucking heaven.”

and then he grabbed your wrist, dragging you down the hallway. you both completely forgot about the party; all that mattered was this. you barely made it into your room before he was all over you again, lips cursing yours, hands yanking your dress over your head, mouth already moving down your neck, chest, stomach.

“i’m done. no more waiting,” he grumbled. “no more pretending. you’re not just some girl i want, you’re the one i’ve been fucking dreaming about. even when i was with her.”

your panties were still so soaked, sticking to your skin, and jungkook didn’t hesitate, he dropped to his knees like he was on a mission.

“lay back for me.”

you did, your legs spread, head thrown back, and then fuck…

his mouth. his tongue.

jungkook ate you out like it was his last meal on earth, moaning against your core like the taste of you was the best thing he’d ever had. his tongue swirled around your clit, slow and teasing, before sucking it into his mouth and driving you absolutely insane.

you were gasping, fingers tangled in his hair, hips grinding against his face, but he held you still, arms wrapped around your thighs, keeping you right where he wanted.

“such a pretty pussy,” he murmured. “so fucking sweet, and all mine.”

your orgasm hit hard, sharp and sudden, thighs trembling around his head, back arching, body convulsing as he licked you through it,not stopping until you were a whimpering mess.

then he was up, stripping fast. shirt? gone, flown off. pants, boxers? off. tattoos and abs on full display. his cock slapped against his stomach, thick and hard, and fuck, you wanted it. badly.

“condom?” he asked, breath ragged.

“first drawer,” you gasped, still dizzy from how hard you came just now.

he rolled it on fast and climbed over you, guiding his tip to your entrance. he looked into your eyes, voice low.

“this isn’t just a fuck,” he said. “you know that, right?”

you nodded, pulling him in. “then show me.”

and oh, he did.

jungkook slid into you slow, letting you feel every inch, every stretch, every deep inch of him until he was fully buried inside you.

“fuck..” he hissed, jaw clenched. “you feel so good. so tight.”

he started to move, hips rolling slow at first, grinding deep, making sure you felt every damn thrust. his hand found your jaw, forcing you to look at him.

“i’ve never wanted anyone like this before,” he said, voice thick. “it’s always been you. only you can make me lose my fucking mind like this.”

your moans grew louder, shameless, broken, needy. you placed your legs over his shoulders, pulling him close, desperate for more, craving every inch.

he gave it to you.

harder, deeper, faster. the bed creaked beneath you, his skin slapping against yours, sweat dripping. his hands roamed your waist, neck, thigh, everywhere.

“say it, baby,” he grunted, fucking into you like he was trying to ruin you (because he was). “tell me you want this.”

“i want… this,” you cried. “i want you… jungkook… i— fuck, just you.”

“that’s right,” he growled, pounding into you. “just you. not anyone else. only you.”

you came again, hard, screaming his name, clawing at his back, walls clenching around him, so tight he couldn’t hold back any longer.

he yanked out hard, ripping the condom off with rough fingers like it was nothing. still breathing heavy, he jerked himself off fast, spilling hot over your skin.

his voice was ragged, moaning your name like it was the only thing keeping him alive.

for a second, neither of you moved, just breathing, catching up, hearts racing.

then he grabbed a tissue, cleaned you up, kissed your forehead, and laid beside you, pulling you into his arms like nothing else mattered.

and maybe it didn’t.

because finally. finally. he wasn’t just yours in your head.

he was really yours now.

[twilightofthesandwiches]

Right from the start, Deltarune has established itself as a “Game Where Choices Don’t Matter”. Only having one ending has been core to its narrative and theming since day one. But it’s important to remember that it’s a concept that Deltarune has explored through several different ways, with two broad ‘main’ angles.

First there is the obvious way. That “Your Choices Don’t Matter” feels restrictive, oppressive, foreboding. The railroading that makes everything ‘safe’ in a way that feels just slightly insincere, the idea that making a real change in this world is impossible, the Darkners doomed to their Purpose to 'serve' the Lightners, the Prophecy that cannot be changed.

It's about the feeling of powerlessness, a lack of control. It's kinda creepy even when you're forced into a 'good ending' (like the Card Castle Darkners joining Castle Town even if you've been nothing but an absolute menace to them), but especially so if you're marching towards some inevitable and terrible fate.

But on the other hand of that spectrum, there is the matter of Player Agency versus Character Agency. Sometimes in Deltarune, your Choices Don't Matter not because the Choice was taken away from you by some Great Unseen Force - but because you, the Player, are the Great Unseen Force and the characters are asserting their Agency against you.

The general point here is that the Player's Choice often stands at odds with the narrative agency of the characters. Ralsei is the most accommodating member of the main cast and the one most likely to ask Kris (or rather the Player) what to do, and… he's also unhealthily selfless doormat who literally does not believe he's allowed to have opinions of his own and is the most fatalistic about the Prophecy. The biggest example of actual Player Choice in the game so far is the Weird Route, which requires tearing away the agency of both Noelle and Kris until they are tools for the Player.

Kris themself is also a factor in this. Being Literally Possessed means that they're really the perfect example of lacking in freedom and lacking in choices… And when they are asserting their own Agency, it's usually by taking away a 'Choice' from the Player. They often try and rebel, resist or wise-ass their way out of doing or saying something that they don't truly want to say or do.

And their most important moments are, of course, the ones they do of their own will.

It is all 'railroading' from an out-of-universe perspective because it is just the Game stopping you from doing things that will cause the narrative of the story to diverge too much, but within the fiction that the game created, it is a bold act of free will.

The characters' relationships and arcs are 'set on a path' and unchanging because they are dependent on the characters' personalities and experiences and their choices, and there's very little the Player can do to override that. Like, being discouraging towards Ralsei's character arc in Chapter 4 is a huge dick move on the part of the Player, but I doubt it will actually stop him from his path to growth. Because with Susie's support (and Kris' attempt to also support him despite our Choices)

his development is not in our hands.

Basically the one time the Player can meaningfully affect another character's arc and relationship… is Noelle in the Weird Route. And again, this is portrayed as a very dark act of manipulation that robs her and Kris of their genuine choices and will.

And nowhere is this concept more clear than with Susie. The most rebellious character in the entire cast, the one most likely to chafe against the railroady nature of the world and the inevitability of the Prophecy and also against the Player. A lot of the plot in this game has been the same, regardless of our choices, regardless of the Weird Route… because Susie's will and choices has been such an overwhelming leading force in the narrative, that the Player can do very little to change it.

We know Deltarune only has one ending, but I don't think that means we are doomed to get whatever terrible fate has been promised in the Prophecy. I think maybe there's only one ending because there's hardly any Choice a Player can make that will slow down Susie's unbreakable, unwavering, unchangeable fate-defying spirit, we will not be able to Choose to hinder her sheer Determination to break the Prophecy and give herself and all of her friends a happy ending. Susie herself is the real inevitability in Deltarune.

At least, that's the best we can hope for.

[tucsonhorse]

I am autistic and I find that being precise is very important to me. With some people I will find myself doing things like sharing more detail about something someone is talking about or letting them know about a common misconception or similar and they seem to get really annoyed about it. And like I try to be nice about it and only correct the big things, but some people get mad if I say anything.

I don't think you're being a contrarian like your sibling, I've dealt with people like that before and it's annoying and in my experience most people avoid them, not to mention lots more people complain about it. I think these specific people are saying you're always picking a fight because they see anything other than complete agreement/acceptance of what they're saying as an argument. That's a common thing with people who are more authoritarian types, especially if they are dealing with someone that they think they do or should have authority over.

When it comes to talking a lot I see two possible reasons. First is anxiety. Autistics, especially late diagnosed autistics, are often misunderstood. So we develop a coping mechanism of trying to explain every nuance of what we mean and cover every possible misconception in order to avoid being misunderstood. This means we tend to go on at length (much like my reply here...), even more so if we're anxious or dealing with someone who has previously criticised or misunderstood us.

My second thought is if you're talking about a special interest. From the context it doesn't sound like that's what's happening in the situations you're talking about, especially since you don't want to be talking.

I can't tell you why your sibling is like this. I can tell you that my mom's whole family is like that and they all seem to enjoy "discussing" things with one another. I don't understand it and most of the rest of us hate when they do it, but my mom and certain of her siblings (and her father when he was alive) could argue for hours and clear out a whole house as the rest of us ran away from it.

To stop talking a lot if it's from anxiety takes practice. You start by trying to recognize when you're doing it, which can be tough. Once you're recognizing it you can work on stopping yourself when you notice it happening and work on becoming comfortable with the idea of being misunderstood so that you don't feel the urge to explain so in depth.

As for telling the difference between a conversation and an argument, that's a lot harder in my experience. Some of it is recognizing tone of voice and if the person's voice is getting tight/tense then I assume that they think I'm arguing (this requires being able to perceive tone of voice). If that happens I will stop adding information or disagreeing with them at all and usually try to exit the conversation as soon as I can. If I still want/need to add information I'll try starting with phrases like "I totally agree, and also..." to make it explicit that I am agreeing with them rather than arguing. And with people who seem to always think I'm arguing I will basically stop sharing any information with them. When I feel the urge to correct them or add context I'll ask myself if their lack of knowledge/incorrect knowledge is or is likely to cause genuine harm to themself or others and if the answer is no then I just don't say anything.

Question that I suspect is autism related

I have, on more than one occasion over multiple decades, been told that I “need to have the last word” and that I “have a response for everything”.

Additionally and in a similar vein, I’ve been told that “everything is an argument with you” and I “always have to say something”.

When I was a little kid I was bad at conversations. People said stuff I had no opinion on or didn’t need follow-up and so I wouldn’t answer and they’d get bored. And eventually through trial and error I figured out that if someone said something to me, all I had to do was say something related back, and the interaction could go on as long as it needed to.

But then as a teen- and now as an adult- a number of people (mostly people I’ve found to be very delicate and particular about things in a sort of need-to-be-in-control authoritarian way) have expressed the identical observation about how I naturally try to converse, and I’m not sure what to do about it.

And the thing is, I have a sibling that talks like this too. We bicker all the time. He changes his own opinions seemingly at a whim for the purpose of being contrary, and it’s impossible to make a statement or observation out loud without him contradicting it, and even when he is demonstrably, factually wrong about something, he will dig his heels into the dirt and defend his stance to the grave.

And like. I hear myself responding, or adding on to people’s comments, but I don’t hear the ‘arguing’ they describe, or the contrarian habits of my sibling. Even when I’m paying attention and being bery careful not to follow up too much or speak too often or disagree or correct something that isn’t important, I get called out for “picking a fight”. They say something, I answer, they reply, I continue, then seemingly out of nowhere they snap. I think everything’s fine until suddenly it isn’t.

And so I guess my question is, how can you tell if you’re a contrary sort of person? How can you tell when to respond or follow up on a person’s statement and how do you know when to leave it in silence? Does everybody see me this way, and is it only people who are already short-tempered who are willing to say it?

I honestly don’t really have that much to say, and half the time I don’t even really want to talk at all, but I’ve been told countless times that I “just seem to like the sound of your own voice” and have to just be “tuned out after a while”. So if it isn’t necessary and I don’t even want to, why am I doing it?

Is there a reason I’m like this? Why is my sibling like this? How do I stop talking when there’s nothing to say, and how can I tell the difference between a conversation and an argument before the other person visibly snaps?

I’m a full grown adult

[temis-de-leon]

Shy gn!reader who has never dated anyone before the Demon Brothers

Characters: Mammon, Leviathan, Satan, Asmodeus and Beelzebub (x reader, separately)

Main Masterlist

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3 , Dateables version

Requested by: Romance Anon

A/N: I know I said requests will be posted from July on, but I literally remembered this one two days ago and I think it got requested last year, so...

.

Mammon

Since the very first moment he saw you, there has been no one else in his mind, including those he’s already dated or fooled around with. Why would he look at anyone else when you’re right beside him? Why would he think about previous heartbreaks when you make him feel so light-hearted?

Okay, sure, he’s most of a ‘casual, noncommittal fling’ type of guy, and perhaps calling his failed relationships ‘heartbreaks’ is an exaggeration, but some of them did hurt at the time, you know?

There weren’t many souls that loved him despite his gambling addiction and his kleptomaniac tendencies, and, while he understood why they eventually broke things up with him, it always left a sour taste in his mouth.

So, not only you are the first one to insist on seeing the best he can be, but he also seems to be unable to succumb to the temptations of greed when you’re around.

He doesn’t yearn for more because you’re already more than enough, and for the very same reason, he doesn’t think about what he used to have and lost.

Surprisingly, Mammon isn’t especially insecure about your relationship history, even when he doesn’t know nothing about it. After all, if you don’t reminiscence or wonder about anyone, then why should he be worried?

Competing with his own brothers and that nasty human sorcerer for your attention is enough of a headache.

There isn’t any particular reason that pushes you to tell him about your lack of experience other than you wanting him to know you better.

He’s playing a new game (more like constantly dying) while you’re sitting right next to him eating some takeout food, and the words blurt out of your mouth before you can even register them, like is just another fun fact about your favourite animal.

At first, Mammon frowns when he hears you, because how could anyone not have shown interest in you before, and then smiles with the usual superiority he carries like a shield.

“Well, who cares who you did or didn’t date? You’re with the Great Mammon now, right? And there’s no one better!”

He sounds arrogant and cocky when he says it, but there’s a hint of truth in his words.

Now that you’re with him, does anything else really matter?

Plus, there’s something sweet in knowing that he is your first in every sense of the word.

Leviathan

Telling him about your lack of previous partners is actually an act of mercy towards his sense of self-worth and the insecurities born out of your feelings for him and the relationship you’ve created together.

It is obvious, even to an outsider, that Levi isn’t used to real life romance and fully believes is not made for it either.

He states himself as a shut-in who finds comfort and sensibility in 2D animation and carefully programmed intelligence and social interaction. The media he consumes is based on the buyer’s preferences, so his views on the world beyond his bedroom door are drastically black and white. That is, although he appreciates the morals of friendship and heroism, he’s quick to categorize strangers based on pure actions; like contemptuously calling you a normie when he met you even though he really didn’t know you at all.

Of course, there is a need of escapism in what he does.

He doesn’t feel like enough compared to most of his brothers or others around him (he still can’t believe he shares interests with Diavolo, who willingly wants to spend time with him), so he traps himself in his comfort zone, dresses up and role-plays, and creates passwords to keep those who don’t respect his passions away.

Taking that into consideration, Levi still doesn’t completely understand how he managed to end up with someone so admirable as you.

Your relationship isn’t based on romance or lust, so, despite being in love with you, your friendship is what he values the most. You are kind to him, patient and attentive, and you never make fun of what he likes even if it isn’t a particular interest of yours. He looks up to your bravery, and how you’re willing to try new things.

He really, really can’t comprehend why you chose to be with him, so the moment you share the fact that he’s your first partner, you rock his entire world.

You mean to tell him that you could’ve had anyone in the three realms, yet he’s the one that ended up dating you? Is that it??

His eyes start to sparkle and he smiles like the world finally makes sense to him.

He finally believes he deserves good things.

Satan

Before he met you, Satan didn’t really understand how far love could go; how limitless it could become if paired with the right person. He acted, more than you could ever imagine, as an obvious “matter of fact” type of guy: what it was, was, and it always had a reason to be.

Still, his intellect and charisma made him easy to like and love, and he had connections with all sorts of people, so he got to have a partner every now and then. Normally, they were established, formal relationships, but he didn’t reject casual ones if the occasion took place.

Most of the reasons for his breakups were normal: lost feelings, different directions, disagreements…; but there were others that… honestly? Took him by surprise.

And not in the good way.

The reason some of his ex-partners used to leave him that infuriated him the most was that he didn’t love them enough, or at all; and no matter how much he insisted on his feelings for them, they didn’t believe him.

The root of their conclusions?

Satan loved cats more than he loved them.

He cooed at them, made entire photoshoots, and spent copious amounts of money for the sake of feeding and playing; his cheeks reddened in uncontained excitement whenever he saw even the smallest hints of pointy ears and a long, sinuous tail; and whoever looked at his eyes each time a cat was involved could swear that he had stars in his pupils.

But could anyone blame him?

They were cats.

Besides, the love he felt for his feline companions was not comparable to what he felt for his partners, and, if they felt threatened by it, then perhaps it was never meant to be.

Once you started dating, though, Satan couldn’t help but wonder if you went through the same struggles in your own relationships as he did in his. Being accused of not giving enough while actively trying to do what you thought was best.

Even worse, would you end up having the same insecurities?

He figures the best course of action is sharing his worries, instead of letting them build up to something that could damage what you have, and it is then when he learns that he is your first partner ever.

He’s surprised, obviously, but also glad and excited. Of course, unlike his idiotic brother, Satan doesn’t find comfort in being “your first”, but now you have the possibility of exploring your relationship together.

You make him feel hope about all the love he can give you.

Asmodeus

Although perhaps not the best at relationships, he’s certainly the most experienced. Thankfully, you knew what you were getting into when you starting dating him.

His powers are born from lust, a feeling he represents with his whole being, so his behaviour nurtures from it as well and he nourishes in its abundance. The search for pleasure is, for him, as natural as breathing air or drinking water, and the result is involving himself with all types of people.

From angels to demons, including humans (and perhaps some more), Asmo has flirted and spent more than time with anyone who has shown an active interest in him and revered him as the precious jewel he is. He is a beautiful demon who deserves to be looked at and finds satisfaction in being perceived as extraordinary.

However, don’t think everything he values in a relationship is physical.

While, yes, sex plays a big part in his life, that’s not what pleasure is all about.

There’s a deep satisfaction that comes from sharing your time and thoughts with a special someone; the feeling of complicity of vulnerability that only few people can provide.

Contrary to popular belief, Asmo has been in love before. Either monogamous or polygamous, relationships aren’t unknown to him, and he has enjoyed every single one of them.

Sadly, though, for one reason or another, all of those met a mournful end.

If he had to bet on a reason, he would blame it all on his ex-partners’ insecurities.

There are downsides to being superior to all around him, after all.

And then he meets you.

Being immune to his charming powers was what made him truly notice your presence as worthy to be appreciated, and not just as a body to be cut open and ravaged, but it was the way you loved him what truly cemented the emotional pleasure he felt around you.

You don’t need to tell him about the lack of previous partners because he already knew from the beginning.

He could see that your shyness wasn’t just an adorable trait that defined you, but also a result of ignorance and inexperience.

Honestly? He thinks is incredibly cute, but nothing to be ashamed of. And why aren’t you more excited? You got the best teacher possible!

Beelzebub

Most students at RAD think he’s simply uninterested in relationships because he’s never been known to have one. Sure, various students have gloated about sharing a bed with him every now and then, but who is going to ask him to make sure those stories are true? Or any of his brothers, for that matter?

Out of all Avatars, he’s probably one of the most unapproachables and one of the easiest to fall victim to.

His sheer size and his monotone voice are enough to put people in their place, but what actually discourages others to talk to him is the moment they hear his empty stomach or see his drooling mouth. His gaze seems lost and hazy, and, the more they look at him, the less safe they feel.

Of course, those are extreme situations, and none have happened in a long time, but some things are difficult to forget.

Although Beel has had sporadic relationships, none of them have been serious or sentimental enough to be taken seriously or remembered fondly. Instead, his focus has been set on his family, his (literal) personal growth through eating and exercising, and, lately, you.

It wasn’t until you came into the picture that others outside of the family and their group of close friends finally saw him in love, blushing out of nowhere and smiling like life made sense whenever you entered the room. His bottomless stomach grew quieter.

He never gave any particular thought to the possible ex-partners you could’ve had.

You are with him, now, aren’t you? He’ll treat you right and he’ll love you more than anyone has ever done before. That’s what’s most important.

He only learns about being your first boyfriend when you’re both walking home after fangol practice, holding hands. For some reason he can’t truly understand, maybe pure curiosity, he asks you if any of your previous partners was an athlete like him, and that’s when you tell him.

Beel raises his eyebrows for just a second before shrugging, and that’s the only response he gives.

It really doesn’t matter to him, besides being a reminder that he has to make things a tad bit better just for you.

He doesn’t plan on being the current boyfriend that set the standards too high, but still; you deserve the very best.

.

.

Taglist: @ilovecandys2010 @ollieoven @kingofspadesdelusion @whimsybloom @mia4gotcookiez @tinyweebsstuff

[deansimagination]

Pairing: Azriel x reader

Warning: NSFW, cunnilingus, somnophilia

Summary: reader has recently started training but has started to have some crazy dreams about Az. Unbeknownst to reader, she is pushing her dreams into Azriel’s because she’s his mate. He does not have self control to say the least to deny her what she wants.

~

Recently, you had been having very vivid dreams. Vivid in the sense that you had been waking up feeling disoriented and like everything that happened in your sleep had actually occurred in real life. Especially the sensations. You felt everything, smelled everything, tasted everything. It wasn’t that your dreams were particularly dull prior to this new development, but they had never made you feel such things.

It seemed to have started a couple weeks ago. You had been working with Rhysand and the inner circle as an emissary between the Night Courts and the other courts in Prythian for a few decades now. Although you had been living with them for quite some time, you had never quite taken to any sort of training. However, when Nesta approached you a few weeks ago and asked if you would like to join her and the other priestesses, you gave her a reluctant “Sure….”

You really liked Nesta, and wanted to support her in her pursuit of doing something meaningful for these women, and for herself. You could see that her plans were already having a positive effect on her experience here in the Night Court, and they were healing some part of herself that you knew needed attention. So, although you felt that training had absolutely no pertinence to your job, you wanted to support a friend.

Which brings you to the start of this whole mess.

~2 weeks ago~

You had arrived 20 minutes early to the training ground, mostly due to pure nerves. Nesta helped you obtain some Illyrian leathers, which she promised would be comfortable to train in. She lied, because although they kept you warm as you stood outside, they did feel a pretty tight.

You didn’t want to just stand around as you waited for everyone to arrive, so you just started stretching your muscles. It had been quite awhile since you invested any real time in developing your physique, but at least you knew to stretch before doing anything extraneous. You thought this training might be good, just in case one day push came to shove you could at least defend yourself. However, you hadn’t really exercised because you were busy with court relations and were always traveling, and you also happened to love your body…. A lot. If there was one think you knew, it was that you were always confident in yourself, mind and body, which helped in all your work endeavors.

Now you weren’t so sure. You felt completely out of your element. This isn’t something you could maneuver yourself out of with your quick wit or an intelligent argument. You had to face this head on. As your anxiety was getting ready to fester, you were pulled out of your thoughts by a cool dark wisp brushing your ankles and wrists, which you quickly recognized as Azriels shadows. You turned your body around to see where he was, only to find him watching you with his arms crossed.

“Nice of you to join us” he smirked at the end of his sentence, almost sounding amused. You and Azriel had a good relationship, although you didn’t get to spend much time with him due to your travels. You did like him though, you guys had a similar sense of humor, liked a lot of the same books, could have very interesting discussions, and you both seemed to have a similar competitive streak.

“I thought it was finally time that I learn how to kick your ass physically since I’m getting tired of cards” you said as you crossed your arm, giving him a little raise of your brow.

“I think you’re in for a rude awakening, Sweetheart. I’m not sure you’ll ever be able to kick my ass… Physically of course, ” Azriel smiled as he took a few steps closer to you “you’re here early.”

“I was eager to start learning” you lied. He did not need to know about your nerves, although you guessed that his shadows had already alerted him of your fast heart beat and sweat gathering in your palms. He was about to say something when you heard a group of voices approaching, thankfully saving you from whatever embarrassing thing he was about to say.

Cassian, Nesta, and a fairly big group of her new trainees came into view. You were excited for these women but scared for yourself, so you prayed to the Mother that you would give yourself the same encouragement you were inclined to give total strangers.

(A Few Hours Later)

You were panting and sweating like you had been running for years. You had not expected the intensity that the morning held. You started with some strength building exercises, then moved on to some simple fighting movements. Azriel and Cassian had decided to do a simple demonstration for the group. But, as the sun had risen, the temperature increased significantly, which led to Cassian and Azriel shedding their leathers. Although you were trying to focus on the hand and foot movements of the two males in front of you, your eyes kept drifting to the sculpted chest of Azriel. You had never looked at Az in that way, although you found him very attractive. But now you couldn’t help how your eyes hungrily trailed the sweat beading from his neck, down his chest, quickly falling down a sculpted v into his leathers. Your mouth had suddenly run dry, and you licked your lips, very distracted by the sight in front of you. And, your distraction was apparently very noticeable.

“Y/N, I’ve been saying your name for a few seconds now. Seems like something has gotten your attention” Nesta quirked her lips, amusement clear in her eyes.

“No no… I’m just focused on the, um, lesson” you could feel the blush heating your cheats. Great, even you didn’t believe that horseshit.

“Well, I’m sorry to distract you since the demonstration is over. I just wanted to ask how you’re liking the training” Nesta asked, thankfully letting your little ogle session go.

“I like it, and it seems like I need it. It’s very challenging, which I thought I would hate but I actually enjoy” you told her truthfully. She gave you a genuine smile and fully faced you.

“I’m so glad! So you’ll continue coming” she stated, not leaving room for argument. You just smiled and nodded, happy that she seemed happy. Nesta looked over your shoulder, smirking to herself and quickly told you she’d see you later. You were about to reach for her when you heard a very recognizable deep voice.

“So, are you ready to kick my ass?” Azriel mused, challenge dancing in his eyes. He was still shirtless, his tattoos proving to easily (very easily) distract you for a second. This didn’t go unnoticed, as you looked back into Azriels eyes, and found them zeroed in on you.

“One day Shadowsinger” you tried to remain cool, but again felt heat on your face. You quickly turned around and rushed away from the training ground.

~Present~

Which brings you to now, and your vivid dreams. After feeling some sort of way toward Azriel during training, you were having some intense dreams about him, which only seemed to get worse as you continued to go to training.

In the last two weeks, you went to training every single day. You continued getting stronger and developing your skill, but when you were training you always had lingering thoughts of Azriel. You could always feel his eyes burning into you as he watched your train, sometimes coming to correct your form and give you advice. When he did correct your form, he would place his hands on you, which would almost always cause you to take a sharp intake of breath. It was like he was sending electricity through your veins every time he did it. And why did he always have to be shirtless? You’re sure he knows what he’s doing, but you would never confront him about it.

Your attraction for him was growing more and more, which was causing your dreams to be relentless. The first few nights has been innocent enough. Kindof. You were dreaming of him training you, shirtless of course, one-on-one. He was always so close to you, you could feel the warmth of his skin as he demonstrated what to do. You could smell cedar and mist and salt as he would step into your space.

That was the innocent start.

When he had started to correct your form and breathe his suggestions far too close to your ear, the dreams took a turn. In the dreams, he was still training you, but now he was getting closer and more confident. When he would correct your form, he would come up behind you and change the position of your arms. His hands would linger, slowly drifting down your sides down to your hips, where he would tighten his grip, then let go. When he would give you advice, he would come up behind you, his lips brushing over your ear as he whispered to you, his hand resting on your torso just under your breasts, holding your body securely to his. Your breath would hitch and you would turn your face away from his voice, giving him access. He would dip his head and run his nose along the crane of your neck, surely smelling the not so subtle shift in your scent. He would begin peppering kisses to your sensitive skin as his hand would begin to travel south.

He would make quick work with the ties on your leathers, and his hands would drift into the fabric of your pants. He would push your panties to the side and feel exactly how excited he was making you feel.

“You’re so wet sweetheart.” He would state.

“Azriel please” you would breathe out, to which he always responded, “Tell me exactly what you want to me to do to you.”

But you always woke up after that.

Azriels POV

Y/N coming to training was proving to be an incredibly difficult feat. Although I enjoyed spending time with her when she was back home from her emissary trips, it made keeping my little secret hard.

In all honesty, the bond had snapped for me several months ago. Although I had always felt an attraction to her, I was shocked when the golden thread laced my soul to hers, but just because I didn’t feel like Id had enough time with her. We always enjoyed each others company; she made me laugh and always drove me crazy when we would get into little debates, card games, or anything that had to do with competition. She had a fire in her eyes that I’m sure mirrored my own, her competitive nature always drawing me in like a moth to a flame.

Now that she was training, my self control was beginning to become loose. I had to see her moving about the training ground in her tight leathers, which did everything for her figure. And when I saw she needed correction, I had to be the one to do the correcting. I could not bother to think about anyone else putting their hands on her body.

Seeing her at training, however, was not the most difficult part. It was her dreams. She had no idea of the bond that was connecting us to one another, so she had no idea that she was pushing her dreams into my own every night. I knew they weren’t my own, they were always from her point of view, and they started immediately after our first training when I had seen her hooded eyes after seeing Cassian and I demonstrate.

She made waking up extremely difficult, I never wanted to leave her dreams. Where I was confident and she wanted me openly. Especially hearing her call my name, feeling her skin beneath my fingers, the scent of her breaching my senses. She is so perfect, and I want her so badly. Although I struggle with letting her find this golden thread in her own time, I pray to the Mother that she never stops training. I only get to feel her when I sleep, but the temporary bliss is worth the disorientation when I wake up.

~

We had successfully gotten through another day of training, which had involved some one on on time with Y/N. I was teaching her new moves and sparring with her, but I noticed she was pulling her punches.

“Stop pulling your punches Y/N” I instructed. She scoffed and shook her head, but the next punch she threw was, again, pulled. I quickly grabbed both her wrists and pulled her swiftly into my space. She looked startled and placed her hands on my chest out of reflex. She was glaring into my eyes as I looked down at her, but I only smirked.

“If you want to kick my ass one day, I need you to put your strength into your swings.” Her chest was rising and falling rapidly as she looked from eyes to my lips and back up to my eyes. We were standing entirely too close for what I would consider appropriate when I train the priestesses. But I couldn’t help it, Y/N is my beautiful mate and it was my instinct to want her body as close to mine as possible.

“Okay” she whispered, and the rest of training she heeded my advice. Although I wish she hadn’t, just so could correct her and breathe her in just a few more minutes.

~

I had already fallen asleep after doing some paperwork for Rhysand and having dinner with the Inner Circle, which had involved a lot of catching lingering stares and averted gazes from Y/N. I was in the beginning of her dream when one of my shadows began tugging at my hand to wake me up.

“What?” I whisper-yelled, upset that they had interrupted this time with Y/N. They continued to tug on my hand, dragging me out of my bed.

Theh brought me straight to Y/N’s door, urging me to step inside. I knew she was asleep because I had my (her) dream interrupted by my shadows. I twisted the door handle softly, being careful not to make too much noise. I quickly found her form on her bed, her hands gripping the sheets. The shadows continued to guide me until was I standing over her bed. I raised my eyebrow at them to ask why they brought me here but they just whispered “Yours.” But i understood more after Y/N called, “Azriel!”

My heart leaped into my throat and I immediately felt myself stiffen. I felt so wrong standing over her in her bedroom without her knowing, but I couldn’t bring myself to walk away now that I was here. This woman really would be the death of my self control. As I was going through my moral dilemma, she gasped again “Az please,” lust evident in her voice. I reached my hand down and brushed my knuckles along her cheek, wanting to feel her skin. She lifted her chin as I ran my fingers along her jaw, entranced by her reaction. She whispered my name again, but I responded “Sweetheart” not exactly whispering. I could feel the timber in my voice as my own lust was consuming me. I could smell how aroused she was, and knew she wanted me, badly.

At the sound of my voice, her eyes barely fluttered open. She was not even half awake, she seemed to think she was still in her dream

She reached for my hand on her jaw, pulling me down to sit on the bed. Her pupils were so wide, almost black. I knew what she wanted and needed, but also knew she was still in her dreamland. She pulled my hand close to her mouth now that was sitting, using her fingers to bend mine so that my index and middle fingers were pointing out. She brought my fingers into her mouth and sucked them, her eyes drifting closed. I let out a sharp breath of air, watching her push my fingers to the back of her throat. I wasn’t sure what to do now, as she sucked, but she pulled my fingers out with a pop. She guided my hand down under her covers, and placed my hand over her pussy, her eyes still closed, as she whispered “Please Azriel.”

Although this seemed to be a bit of a gray area for us, Y/N being my mate (unknowingly), and her damn near asleep begging me to help her as she gripped my hand. But I just can’t help myself. With my other hand I lifted the covers and crawled in. I was already in my underwear having been woken up myself. I maneuvered myself so that I was completely under the covers, my shoulders slotted between her legs. I nudged her knees wide, so they would lie flat on the bed as she bared herself to me. She smelled so good, and she was already wearing no underwear, I had to lean forward and taste.

I ran a stripe up through her folds, already getting a tase of her wetness. She moaned loudly which only encouraged me. I began to circle her clit with my tongue when she shoved her hand into my hair. I started sucking, while entering my index finger into her pussy. I started moving in and out and she started rocking her hips into my mouth.

“Oh Az, I’m gonna cum” she moaned as she rocked her hips faster. I added another finger and started flicking my tongue faster. All I could do was moan back, vibrating her clit in my mouth.

Y/N pov

You came with a loud and crude moan, startling you out of the in between of your wet dream and real life. You had never cum so hard in all your life, but were shocked when you realized there was a head of hair gripped in your hand. You lifted the cover only to find your dream male (literally), eyes boring in yours, his chin glistening with the moonlight now hitting his face. You put your fingers under his chin, guiding him up to you. He followed, quickly settling his body over yours.

“Are you real?” You whispered. You didn’t know if this was real, it felt more real than any dream you had about him, and you were already previously dreaming.

“Yes, baby” he answered, looking to the side as if in shame. You brought his face back to yours, “why did you come here?”

“Because you called out to me” he breathed leaning his forehead on yours. You had never felt such intimacy, especially from someone you desired so desperately.

“How did you know?” You felt something glimmering in your chest, which you thought had something to do with an answer to that question.

“Y/N, your soul calls out to mine, your body calls out to mine, your desires call out to mine. Your dreams infiltrate my slumber Your thoughts fill my head. Your feelings have taken root in my heart” He searched your eyes frantically, looking for something. You felt your chest crack open, a golden thread weaving itself to male on top of you. You suddenly felt a wave of love, want, and need, all which didn’t belong to you. You gasped, eyes wide as you took in Azriel. You weaved your hand behind his head and brought his face down to yours, kissing him deeply. He kissed you hungrily, moving his lips against yours almost as competitively as you two played games. You didn’t want to fight for dominance, you were His and He was yours, equal in every way.

“Azriel” you gasped, tugging his hair back. He looked at you, seeming worried that he had crossed some line (that line has been crossed king).

“You’re my mate” you smiled so wide, tears springing from your eyes. He smiled down at you, relieved it was nothing bad. He nodded, kissing the tears that gathered on your face. You were filled with such joy, you and Azriel had always clicked so well, with undeniable chemistry. You trusted Him completely, he made you laugh, made you think, made you feel. You felt so blessed.

“How am I supposed to kick my mates ass in the ring for real?” You pushed his shoulder, and he let out a loud laugh, his face falling into your shoulder.

“I know other ways we can compete physically, but I’m not sure if there will be any losers” he winked and now it was your turn to laugh.

The end

[jerich0l0ve]

Can you do one where Noah and the reader are best friends and they both ended a relationship but agree on "helping each other"😉

But they actually like each other.

You don't have to but just a thought

Love you lots❤

I don't HAVE to but I did... and I did it with 1400 words lol 😏

Helping Each Other

18+ MDNI

Noah x Feminine Reader

CW: casually written smut, implied unprotected p in v, fingering, hj, vibrators mentioned, smooching.

It had been terribly long since the last time you had sex with someone… well 2 weeks to be exact. Despite the unfortunate situation where your boyfriend cheated on you, the one thing you actually missed was having a regular sex life.

And despite having a few vibrators, well they just weren’t cutting it. You equated that to the lack of intimacy you developed with the pink vibrating rabbit that lived in your nightstand drawer. Don’t get it wrong, she was a cut pink rabbit toy, but she wasn’t necessarily a gorgeous man to make out with while doing the deed was she?

After another failed attempt that afternoon, you decided to take your mind off of the burning need by inviting your friend Noah over for an anime night. You both were working your way through the monstrous production that was One Piece. Over 1,100 episodes, you both had plowed your way through 562 of them.

And you both happened to be lonely, Noah’s previous relationship ended a month prior to yours—she cheated on him with one of their crew members. To say it got messy was an understatement.

Noah sat beside you now, smelling heavenly as he always did, wearing his casual gym-like attire. He sat close, you both had been friends for many years and there was a certain type of intimate connection between the two of you. Nothing physical had ever happened, but there was a deeper connection there built on trust and honesty, a few shared traumatic experiences from your youth too.

Matter of fact, as you looked at Noah now there were a few little sparks that worked their way into your chest. He had always been quite handsome, but you equated the sudden urge to the other urges you had.

When Noah’s eyes met yours, he chuckled a little before placing a hand casually on your lower thigh. The jolts were almost too much to handle, you adjusted your seat a little.

“Is something wrong?” Noah asked nonchalantly, his eyes had returned to the show.

You smirked at him, glancing to the side, “I haven’t been touched by a man in SO long.”

Noah’s laugh filled the room, he was always a little flirty in his interactions but never overstepped the imaginary boundaries you both held, “I’m pretty sure being touch deprived for 2 weeks is alright… try a month and a half.”

You turned to your friend; eyes widened a bit. He wasn’t one to shy away from many casual hookups, especially after Bad Omens took off. The fact that he hadn’t so much as touched a woman since his breakup was a little surprising.

“Ah, no more fans on the roster I see,” you raised a brow, which earned a cheeky smile from Noah.

“There are always fans, y/n, but do I always want the fans? That’s the real question, isn’t it?” Noah said in his usual casual demeanor.

“It is, isn’t it?” You smiled a little, a thought popped into your head, but it was too wild to act on. It would break countless rules that kept you in place for years, rules you told yourself were supposed to protect your heart and his.

Noah held your gaze for a few moments longer, only interrupted by something intense happening in One Piece. You figured the conversation was over until Noah said, “You know, I wouldn’t be opposed to helping solve the little issue you’re having?”

“And what issue would that be, Noah?” You asked.

“I see it as a transactional agreement. I get a little something… you get a… big something. We can both happily proceed with our lives afterwards without a care in the world,” Noah’s finger traces the small tattoo above your knee. It was a small touch, but the whispers of his fingers felt heavenly against your skin.

You looked at your friend, “That would be dastardly, wouldn’t it? Couldn’t think of a worse idea honestly.”

Noah quickly picked up on the dry sarcasm laced within your words, “Oh it would be absolutely terribly irreversible damage.”

His body shifted moving closer, your legs quickly found their way around his waist as it fast approached.

“Honestly, how do you even run a business with decisions like these? Sounds like you’d tank it every day,” You smiled as he went flush with you, a very hard and exciting surprise awaiting already.

“I couldn’t tell you how I have survived this long.”

Inch by inch, Noah lowered his body until his lips pressed softly against yours, it started soft but immediately deepened as your legs pulled him in impossibly closer.

The kiss sent sparks through the air, One Piece completed disappeared as you both got lost in the kiss.

Tongue, teeth, lips, they all meshed together perfectly, all moved in the same rhythm that seemed to be inside you both for a long time now. A rhythm only the both of you understood, one that seemed it would never end no matter how terrible this idea was.

That rhythm continued as his hips grinded against yours, as clothes expertly ripped away and were thrown well across the room. Every inch of tattoos visible, every inch of skin—his skin.

It was soft against yours, your nipples perked up with each connection his chest made to yours. Lips moved there, making small marks over the sensitive areas and leaving nothing untouched. It was blissful, magical, something to write a song about.

His fingers played you like a guitar; one by one they entered with efficiency and skill. They were slick before he even got all the way in. Your hand wrapped around him now, both of you playing each other in tune to the loud heartbeats and breathing that filled the air.

It didn’t take long for the need to increase, for Noah to slip in smoothly. His hips didn’t move too fast, a slow pace that matched the circles he made with his tongue along your lips. That tongue found its way to your chin, your cheek, and tickled your ear.

Moans joined the choir now, moans that drowned out any noise from the apartment or the bustling city beyond. The pace never quickened though, Noah took his time showing you every inch that he had to offer—making sure you felt the small twitches as he grew near. Your pleasure built tightly, this was everything you needed and wanted, it was everything that felt right.

“Noah…” you gasped, his eyes opened lazily as they locked on yours.

He let out a small grunt before responding, “…Yes?”

The tension built and built. It became too much and everything you needed all at once, “I think… I think we… should do this… more often,” you said in between breaths.

Noah’s smile brightened his eyes, he slowed the pace down even more until it was unbearable, “You know I was thinking the same thing.”

His lips met yours, this kiss was different. It was soft and loving, unlike any kiss you had ever experienced from anyone before. A hidden message only you knew, held between the both of you as it sent you over the edge.

Sweaty foreheads met, eyes closed, and mouths held agape with small breathless moans escaping as you both rode the high. It sent you into existential bliss.

When it ended, there were already tears forming, Everything was perfect, and the crash down afterwards was enough to leave you wanting more for the rest of eternity.

Noah’s eyes opened and met yours, a lazy smile making its way to his lips, “Shall we actually do that again sometime?”

You took a breath, “You know I think we might have to. I’ve had a taste of bad decisions, and I don’t think I want to give it up yet.” You smiled cheekily.

“I promise you, y/n, if you continue to use my song titles in casual conversation, I will find a way to get you back,” Noah pulled himself away, careful not to stain the new couch you purchased the week prior.

“I can think of a few ways, but I’m not sure it would be a one-time thing… nor casual,” you added the last part, it was time to put everything on the line.

Noah smiled as he grabbed a few tissues to clean you both up with, “Now that would be absolutely dastardly indeed.”

Noah and you spent the rest of the evening exploring that idea, and the next, and the next…

xoxxox

[thepoliticalvulcan]

I agree with this on the level of harm reduction. It is every voter’s responsibility to be informed and to prudently weigh the consequences of this or that side winning.

On that level when you have absolute ghouls who could come back to power like Pompeo and Huckabee with a nightmare eschatology focused around goading Israel into fulfilling a doomsday prophecy to bring Jesus back, the potential for greater suffering is huge.

And yet this particular form of consequentialism ignores other frameworks and ways of understanding voter behavior and motives. Not to mention it absolves the parties themselves of any responsibility of being in dialogue with their voters.

If the answer to that challenge is that the Democratic Party was in dialogue with its voters and due to the composition of the coalition, what we saw out of the administration, the Biden - Harris campaign, the Harris - Walz campaign, and the convention is their version of threading a needle, okay fine. One I don’t buy it and two even if that was the best they could do to keep the coalition together, I think we need to talk about how blocs function.

Right now the Democratic Party is freaking out over its issues with young men, especially young men without college degrees.

Why is it freaking out? Because they believe that category helped throw the election to Trump via their unwillingness to vote or their willingness to vote for Trump.

Now the party is spending tens of millions to study how to approach young men while many pundits and electeds experiment with changes in affect and policy.

We can debate what it is young men want, whether it’s actually good, and if Democrats trying to pivot to flatter them will be effective or an absolute disaster that alienates more voters than it brings into the tent. But if young men wanted to send a message with their vote (or non-vote) a signal has been received loud and clear and the Democrats are desperately trying to decode that signal and find an actionable message within the noise.

Anti-war motivated voters were not merely ignored, even moderate, patriotic Palestinian American success stories were denied any sort of visible role at the DNC for fear they would do or say something off script.

So by November they had a choice and it was an absolute nightmare of a trolley problem.

Vote Democrat, stay inside the tent, hope to have some small amount of influence but also risk the very real probability that Democratic elites could safely ignore this element of the coalition in perpetuity and threaten them with ostracism and culpability for whatever the prayer warriors inside the JD Vance wing of the GOP wound up doing should they win.

Or don’t.

Vote third party, vote Republican, don’t vote and gamble that the GOP won’t win or that if it did win the notoriously vain Trump would seize upon this influx of new voters, revel in their imagined praise, and temper his love affair with Netanyahu and the “Greater Israel” crowd.

And if it all went to hell anyway then they might be able to tell themselves that they taught Dems their votes cannot be taken for granted if electoral politics survived to 2028. In the long run, MAYBE a chastened Democratic Party would be more amenable to the anti-war crowd, resulting in a grim trade of more lives lost and devastated now for more lives spared in the future.

Such feverish speculation and wishcasting is why I’m increasingly skeptical of trying to project more than a single electoral cycle into the future. Especially since my estimation is that this is the worst of all worlds for “Greater Israel” opponents in the US: not only does the GOP not even remotely care about Muslims, is actively trying to deport the most vocal, and seems content to assist in depopulating Gaza: the Democrats also don’t give a damn because their new love affair is with alienated young men.

But on an emotional level, I get it. The choices were awful, and the so called “good guys” were behaving at peak levels of paternalism and disingenuousness. So why not take a big swing and hope for the best?

I mean, the very predictable reality we are now living in is why, but I also don’t see where anti-war voters had a lot of options besides accept they were being sidelined or demonstrate that they were prepared to use the nuclear option and withhold their votes: the last and final thing any bloc can do in democracy if their inter-election canvassing and persuasion efforts fall short of persuading major stakeholders.

I don’t have it in me to be mad at them for rolling the dice.

I've said it before and I'll say it again.

Palestine is to the alt left as abortion is to the alt right. All other policy is irrelevant as long as you support the important cause.

This is just not how politics should be working. If you want a functioning system, you cannot reduce your entire voting behaviour to a single issue. It's so easy to do, but that's not how the world works and as we have seen time and time again, it causes absolute carnage if the result of a vote becomes determined by a single issue whcih causes people to ignore the actual aims in a party' manifesto

[apopticghoul]

so i’m almost certain someone’s noticed this before, but i want to talk about it anyway.

i was walking home from therapy and listening to the half-life 2 soundtrack when i noticed something interesting. in a lot of the tracks (especially the ones that play in ravenholm) you can hear manhacks, turrets, etc in the background. this was shocking to me because when i first played through half-life 2, i would constantly get spooked by enemies that weren’t there. if i didn’t use subtitles to help me see when there were actual enemies, i would have been 10x more anxious and vigilant, i think. and i’m sure that anxiety and constant wariness was intended, especially in ravenholm where everything is new, dark, and more dangerous than before.

so i was wondering if gordon freeman could logically hear those sounds too, or if they were just there for the player experience. and i have discovered that it is pretty likely that gordon would also have been hearing these non-existent enemies.

although it’s not common, it is possible for morphine to cause hallucinations. since gordon has been doped up on morphine for about 3-4 days straight (in his perception at least) from the HEV suit, then it makes sense that he could be experiencing some unusual side effects. hallucinations are also more likely if the patient has underlying mental health conditions or personality disorders, and i think that the high-stress and traumatic situations that gordon’s gone through would count as one of those.

he would also have a bunch of other miserable side effects probably, like nausea, dry mouth, sweating, sleepiness. i imagine he’d get injected with adrenaline as well as the morphine, otherwise he’d probably pass tf out all the time.

anyway. let me know your thoughts, tumblr.

[cripplecharacters]

Hello, I'm trying to write a sci-fi/fantasy type story where one of the pov characters gets badly injured in a magical type attack (lightning spell gets his ship), and starts using a cane as a mobility aid, since the lighting effected the range of motion in one of his legs enough that walking without it is painful/he can't get the full range of motion. (sorry if this is too much/the wrong kind of info, wanted to be specific)

He's a social butterfly type of guy, but he's not really good at confronting his personal issues and I wanted to check with somebody that has more experience that I'm not falling into a negative trope of some kind?

also still related to the topic but different question, I wanted to know if it's better for him to be able to take advantage of his enemies underestimating him, or if it's better for his enemies to be more wary of him since it's a millitarized/dangerous environment, these kind of injuries are common, and the fact he survived the attack makes him more of a danger? I'm not sure if I'm phrasing it right still T-T

Hello!

From what you've written here, I'm not seeing any negative tropes or other problems with the concept. It all sounds pretty realistic to me and it's something I'd really love to see more, particularly the part with your disabled character being a social butterfly.

I find that a lot of disabled characters in media are frequently presented as being loners or otherwise not being very social (examples that immediately come to mind are Kaz Brekker from Six of Crows, Matt Murdock from Daredevil, Moritz Farber from Because You'll Never Meet Me, etc.). As much as I love a good lone wolf character, I'd really REALLY love to see the opposite when it comes to disabled characters [especially for those whose disability affects their speech but that's for another time].

I think a lot of people have trouble confronting their personal issues and it doesn't undermine their social butterfly-ness.

Regarding your second question: I wouldn't say that one is necessarily better than the other.

Different types of people will have different reactions to your character's disability. It's okay to show that! In fact, I think it'd actually be better to show the different reactions (and how he handles them).

I'm not really seeing any problems here and this sounds like a pretty great concept!

Cheers,

~ Mod Icarus

[ego-osbourne]

I have tried to make a nice introduction to this post many times and keep fumbling it so I’m just going to jump right into it.

There’s a few posts/reblogs going around discussing the—for lack of a better term—racially charged designs of elves in the Oblivion Remaster. You can find the post here—op expressed that they didn’t want to continue the conversation on their blog, and I’ll try to respect that as much as possible, but I wanted to contribute to the argument because I feel like a lot of people are missing the point.

To summarize, an anon pointed out to op that NPCs like Mankar Camoran and Mannimarco look like racist Asian stereotypes, the kind you’d find in WWII propaganda (extremely slanted eyes, talking in a way that emphasizes their top row of teeth, etc.). The counterargument by op was that they did not agree with the assessment, saying OBRE’s Altmer were not much different from the Altmer of Morrowind, Skyrim, and ESO. In a reblog, op added that many of OBRE’s character artists came from various Asian backgrounds. In a final reblog, op added that TES’s elves have always been based off of potentially offensive stereotypes of Asians (with exaggerated facial features and hastily-woven inspirations from various Asian cultures), but since the studio behind OBRE probably didn’t intend to offend anyone, it shouldn’t be of much concern.

This is where I find the most concern.

The biggest thing I want to address is the argument of intent. Many people claiming that the OBRE Altmer aren’t racially charged will say that the developers did not intend for these designs to be offensive, and intent should be a serious contributing factor when judging these designs. I agree! I do not think that the devs at Virtuos and Bethesda ever intended to be offensive with their designs. That does not mean that they still weren’t offensive designs though, and the devs not realizing that their designs could be seen as offensive is half of the problem.

Think of the artists and animators over at Disney and Warner Bros in the 1950s when they were making what we can clearly see in hindsight as racist cartoons. Whether it be the indigenous people of Peter Pan, the siamese cats of Lady and the Tramp, the black characters of Tom & Jerry, or the crows of Dumbo, each of these depictions likely weren’t seen as offensive by the artists creating them. If anything, these characters were probably seen as “accurate” for who they represented.

This same idea of “not stereotypical, just accurate” followed the attitude of minstrel shows. Many white people performing these shows would claim imitation as flattery—they weren’t making stereotypes, they were just living out the “Black experience,” and it couldn’t be offensive if it was “enjoyable” and “accurate.” The point is, something doesn’t need to be seen as offensive by its creators to still be obviously offensive, even when its creators are part of the demographic that is being the most affected. Minstrel shows were also performed by African Americans, and at least one of the crows of Dumbo was voiced by a black man (with the other voice actors being uncredited aside from one white voice actor). This phenomenon has been argued to be a blend of desensitization to offensive depictions (they’re “funny/accurate,” so what’s the harm in participating?) and as a way to appease those with more power (the white man) so that you’re seen as “one of the good ones” and can avoid being targeted in the future.

That^ is to say that the many Asian developers at Virtuos don’t discount the fact that these OBRE Altmer designs are still very uncomfortable to other POC people, especially those of Asian background. You can be “on the team,” so-to-say, and still do something that offends and disgusts “your team.” I’m very certain that the people over at Virtuos did not intend to make something that resembled a racist caricature out of elves, but intent starts to matter less and less when you are a big company that, purposefully or not, is reinforcing an ugly, exaggerated stereotype and desensitizing both white fans and POC fans to the point that they (the fans) will not only refuse to criticize designs like this, but actively fight against people who point out the harm these designs cause.

No matter your racial background, if you can stomach these designs and enjoy OBRE or TES as a whole, if you can treat this series as a form of escapism and have the privilege to live apolitically through it, that’s awesome. Escapism is a very healthy and valid way to process the events of the real world, and if you are able to experience that, great. That’s not what matters though.

Not everyone gets to live apolitically. It’s important not to disregard or discredit those who point out real issues in any media, no matter how you view it. You might see TES as nothing more than the Funny Elf Game, but there are many very valid people within the community who recognize the very biased hand of the author and cannot enjoy it to the same extent that you do. I found it baffling that so many people were so quick to disregard the arument responding to op as a “violent, non-intellectual group hounding a concept art blog��� (paraphrased from many different responses, though all these words were used)—the use of “violent” and lacking “intellectual integrity” has been the common kneejerk response to POC concerns for decades on decades to discredit and devalue genuine critiques, thus shielding the offending party from having to think twice about something that makes them uncomfortable (I don’t think you intended to touch on an offensive and racially charged practice still used to this day, I just think you have been desensitized to that particular reaction so much you have failed to recognize how it can affect other minority groups, even if you yourself are part of a minority group (/ironic); the use of “hounding” is also a bit… silly? Much smaller blogs cannot “hound” a bigger blog, and it is the responsibility of op to understand that they are prone to considerable backlash just by virtue of being a bigger blog—there is no such thing as “punching down” on or “hounding” a bigger creator than yourself, especially not when the conversation remained as on-topic as it did; additionally, op is not just a “concept art” blog, if they were they wouldn’t have engaged in this conversation in the first place. They did not have to answer the ask.

To finish off, I want to make it clear that I am white. I have been a fan of TES since I was a kid, and did not recognize any racially/marginally charged aspects of the game on my own, because, obviously, none of those aspects have ever affected me. I am making this argument on the grounds that all of these things were pointed out to me by POC friends within the community (especially my Asian friends, in this regard), and I find it important that anyone from any background is able to validate the concerns of the marginalized.

This is my main argument, but I’m going to go into a few extra details in a reblog. If you’re interested in a very in-depth post from an Asian POC regarding this, @bforblitz has a project in the works.

[only-lonely-star]

so your post abt your concerning amount of injured reader requests inspired me. you should totally do a gang x reader who just got out of surgery. like still under anesthesia that makes you act all high and stuff. i don’t remember if you do hcs involving the entire gang (separate ofc) or not, but if you don’t, then you could do this with dally or ponyboy— tysm ily and your writing 🤞🫶

Curtis gang x anesthetized!reader HCs

Curtis gang x gn!reader

Warnings: Reader is under anesthesia. Brief mentions of bruising and blood. Reader experiences mild pain.

Author’s Note: I decided to specify this request for wisdom teeth! I got mine taken out a few years ago so I have experience lol. enjoy!! <3

+ my little story time of when I got my wisdom teeth taken out at the end bc why not :)

✦ . 　⁺ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ 🦷 ✦ . 　⁺ ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

Ponyboy

As soon as he saw you being pushed outside from a wheelchair, he just felt bad. Not because he had done anything wrong, but because it feels so scary to see someone he cares about so out of it.

I feel like his idea of someone being anesthetized is like ‘they zone out for a bit and slur their words’, but your experience was totally different.

If you were crying, he definitely thought you were in pain from the surgery. (For reference, some people cry when waking back up from confusion, stress, etc.)

Just by hearing your rambling, he was genuinely thinking ‘What the fuck…? Did they put you on anesthesia or something else?”

He’d try to be as helpful as possible, especially at first when you were numb inside your mouth. I think he would make a great nurse for the day and help talk you through your discomfort.

Maybe Pony would read you a book once you calmed down enough to understand what he was saying. At first you can’t do much else besides lay there and mellow yourself out, so he could easily kill time reading to you.

Ponyboy would remind you of what you’re allowed and not allowed to eat/drink/do within the first few days. The thought of dry socket scares the SHIT out of him. He wants absolutely noooo part in that.

Johnny

Johnny would laugh his ass off when you’re first rolled out of the operation room. Deep down, he’s a little scared of the possibility that he might have to have his wisdom teeth removed, so he disguises it with laughter.

He would try to fuck with you a little bit because he’s aware you can’t form coherent thoughts just yet. He thinks it’s sooo funny to watch you panic like that 😭 “Where’s your tongue?? They removed that too?!”

Okay, after he’s had a good laugh, I think he would try to comfort you a little. Especially if you were more emotional when waking up, he’d probably feel slightly guilty for teasing. I can totally see him letting you rest your head on his shoulder or blab about whatever as his way of showing you he’s there for you.

If you WERE a crier right off the bat, Johnny wouldn’t joke like that. He imagines that would feel like pure torture.

Since you can’t smoke, he’d do you a favor and exhale towards you so that you can get your dose of second-hand smoke in until you’re better.

He isn’t fazed by your all-liquid diet. Hard times have led him to consume soup, broth, and whatnot even though he can chew. I think he might try and keep solid foods out of your sight as a sign of respect.

Dallas

Similar to Johnny, I think Dallas would take one good look at you before bursting into laughter. He’s familiar with various drugs and such, but anesthesia isn’t anything like the party drugs he’s used to.

He personally thinks your swollen, gauze filled cheeks are hilarious.

No matter if you’re crying or not, I think he would try to straight up interview you on the spot. “How’s your mouth? Does it hurt? You remember who I am?”

He would take advantage of your state and try to get you to confess the most embarrassing things. Stories he can recall from ages ago that he knows you would never retell would just slip out because of your lowered inhibition.

The never ending teasing Dallas would commit to is just ruthless. You’ll be “chipmunk cheeks” to him forever.

He wouldn’t know better when it comes to post-surgery rules. He would try and be nice for once by bringing you a milkshake just to find out you need to be spoon fed instead of using straws like normal. As much as it would grate at his nerves, he would go back and out of his way to find you a spoon to slurp from.

Sodapop

He would be concerned at first glance, noticing the bruising on your cheeks and the swelling around your jaw. Soda would try and comfort you physically whether it be holding your hand or letting you lean on him for support. (This can be interpreted romantically or platonically)

When you’re rambling, he would simply nod along and go “mhm” every few mumbles so you felt heard.

During the car ride home, he tried to keep you as calm as possible. Crying or not, there’s usually a bit of a panicked reaction when first waking up from the anesthesia. I actually think Soda may have gotten his taken out before, so he knows it’s not super pretty.

Constant reassurance if you were one to cry a lot. “No, no it’s okay. It’s over now. You’re doing great.”

Once you’re a little more conscious of your surroundings, he would sit and listen to you talk about how you feel, what you need at the moment, etc. Overall, I think he would be super caring (partly because he has experience).

Steve

He would make a 😧 face when he first sees you because of how fucked up you look. He would be on the more stunned/amused type rather than comforting.

He would poke at your cheeks in fascination. The slight bruising on your jaw is “tuff” according to his judgment. “Looks like you took a few blows. I mean, it looks pretty tuff if you ask me😼.”

I think he would save the teasing until after you’ve gained full consciousness again.

He would be the type of person to try and make you laugh/cheer you up if you were crying from the anesthesia. I assume he would think you’re crying in pain or because of the blood on your gauze because he doesn’t have personal experience in this area.

If this was a modern au, he would definitely try to sneak a phone in and record you to embarrass you with videos later. Not in a mean way, but in a playful & teasing type of way yk?

He leans your head against the seatbelt in the car, trying to NOT touch your puffy cheek. His worst fear in the moment is for your gauze to fall out of your mouth and land anywhere on him.

Two-Bit

He covered his mouth like 🫢 when he first saw you, trying his hardest to not laugh IN your face.

He would talk to you like a child, and it surprisingly worked well. The slower, more simple sentences could actually be comprehended even though you were still under anesthesia.

Tries to get you to open your mouth to show him where they operated on you because he thinks the concept of surgery is so fascinating.

Similar to Soda, I think he would play along with your loopy rambling. If you’re speaking straight up mumbles that only make sense to you he’d try to mumble back like you’re speaking a language only the two of you know.

He’s oddly gentle with you. I think he would offer you something to eat (liquid foods) right away. He would try to take care of your needs because being on anesthesia does NOT look like him to fun. Funny? Sure. But fun? He would pass.

He hypes you up HELLA. I’m thinking in an encouraging but also impressive way like, “Look at you, you’re all done. It’s over! I couldn’t ever get my teeth taken out.”

Two-Bit makes you feel ‘guilty’ when he assists you. Obviously he’s just teasing, but under anesthesia you can’t take the hint. He would wipe your drool or adjust your bloody gauze and proceed to say something like, “Who else would do this for you? Mhm, exactly. Exactly! You owe me.”

Darrel

He’s so gentle and attentive with everything. He’s used to the role of a protective, caring, selfless big brother, but it’s like something snaps within him when he sees you so drugged and out of it.

He tries talking to you immediately, surveying how you feel, if you’re in pain, etc. Bonus points if you’re crying- he’ll try to ask if there’s anything he can do to help.

He tries to read the little pamphlet with care instructions from the nurses but he can’t even focus on it because he’s so concerned about you.

I feel like Darry would try and shadow you 24/7 post-surgery. If you’re asleep or simply resting on the couch he would pop his head in just to make sure you weren’t laying on one cheek or eating solid foods.

Again, this is more of a modern au type of deal- I think Darry would try and scold anyone who tried to record you. BUTTT he would take a picture for himself to keep as a silly memory, not to tease you endlessly.

He would probably be the one to drive you home post-surgery. He volunteered himself since he trusts himself enough to bring you back safely.

He shushes you when you try to ramble, he doesn’t egg you on like the others.

Story time:

My story isn’t all that interesting, but it was pretty funny to me when I retell it from my own perspective. I wanted my parents to record me so bad, but my mom insisted on not doing so. Okay so— I was brought into the operating room and sat down like normal. After about 30 minutes, who I think ended up being my surgeon came in with a thick ass needle. I knew right then and there that was the anesthesia. He starts asking me about school, what grade I’m going into, and what my favorite subject is as he’s injecting the anesthesia into my arm. I was talking like normal and I swear I blinked ONCE and I was suddenly in the backseat of my dad’s car. I remember closing my eyes for .2938384882 seconds and opening them to find myself sobbing and asking something along the lines of, “but how did I get from there to here?” and “Is it over?” repeatedly. I was sort of hunched over my lap/the back of the passenger seat with my hand stuck out towards my dad. I remember him holding it and trying to comfort me because he thought I was in pain or something. I’m 99% sure I was just confused and a little overwhelmed with the surgery feeling like a LITERAL blink of an eye. I wasn’t sad or hurting or anything like that. What’s cute is that my best friend got her wisdom teeth taken out just months before I did and claimed she was crying for me. I ended up doing the same thing, asking both my mom and my dad if she was okay and if I could text her to tell her I was awake. I also remembered seeing my brother get escorted from the exit doors into the backseat next to me. He had his eyes closed and mouth open saying shit like “I am fully awake and fully conscious” knowing DAMN well he was nowhere near planet earth. He swears he never said that but I remember him trying to act all hard so vividly. OKAY THIS IS GETTING LONG—. To conclude my little story time, I have to specify that this happened the summer after 8th grade and my Outsiders obsession was still so new to me because I read it 4th quarter of 8th grade. I was a lot more awake by the time I got home, so I could somewhat slurp down some of the milkshake my dad bought me. My mom and I laid down in her bed and we binged the Karate Kid movies together since she grew up as a Ralph Macchio/Michael J. Fox kind of girl lol. She also knew that I was really into The Outsiders and said I would like Karate Kid because I thought Ralph was sooo cute. My cheeks were bruised and puffy for WEEKS and I literally hated every single second of recovery. It felt like I could taste my own flesh because there were literal holes in my mouth from where the teeth used to be. To end this (for real this time) on a better note, I think it’s safe to say the surgery wasn’t all that scary. I was really nervous beforehand, but it turned out just fine. I recovered quickly and safely, and that’s all that really matters. So if you’re scared, don’t be! It wasn’t bad at all.

IF YOU READ MY LITTLE STORY YOU HAVE MY WHOLE HEART LOL (ts was NAWTTT little, it was longer than all of the headcanons combined)

TYSM FOR READING!!!

-Sophia 🫶🏼