#(this is an odd question now that i think about it)

[nxuvillette]

TO FEEL WHOLE AGAIN — BOOTHILL

synopsis: getting pregnant and left by yourself wasn’t in your plans in life at all, but you end up meeting a man who becomes more than just a friend who’s willing to help.

❥- pairings : boothill x fem!reader

❥- note : so sorry for any inactivity !! life has just been a wreck, but i’m here with a little idea I came up with the other night. i hope you all enjoy <3 reblogs are appreciated !!

content warnings : sfw, fem!reader, ageless + blank blogs dni, pregnancy, abandonment, heavy angst, breakups, mentions of abortion (reader does not have one), mentions of alcohol, human!boothill, angst with happy ending, use of pet names (darling + lovely), fluff, very fluffy things.

You can recall the day you met Boothill like it was the back of your hand. 

It was the day your life had begun a completely new journey, but also, the same day that your life had completely fallen apart within just twenty four hours. Every memory was ingrained in your brain like it was never meant to go away. How could things end up going right, but so wrong at the same time?

About seven months prior, you found yourself sitting inside of a bar with tears still staining your cheeks from the incident that had occurred just hours beforehand. Your heart had gleamed, but shattered just minutes after. You questioned why something like this had happened to you. You never wronged anybody. Sure, you weren’t the most perfect person to exist, but as humans, it’s in their nature to make mistakes. Yet, god had different plans for you and they weren’t exactly the most pleasing ones.

Just two days before that day, you had found out you were pregnant. 

It came by total surprise. You and your boyfriend weren’t exactly trying for kids, but you both had been together for four years at that point. You noticed something was off about you when your period suddenly missed its usual day, and you were experiencing some very odd symptoms that were unusual. After some convincing from your friends, you decided to go out and purchase a pregnancy test which came back positive. You didn’t know what to feel. You were excited, nervous, emotional, but most of all, anxious. You didn’t know how to break the news to your boyfriend and you weren’t sure whether or not you wanted to keep it. 

For a few days, you didn’t say anything to him. You weren’t the best with words and you didn’t want to dump something so sudden onto him either, but he eventually figured it out when he found you one morning throwing up your breakfast into the toilet. 

He wasn’t angry or upset, but you knew something wasn’t right with him after he found out. He started to become somewhat distant and he avoided any conversation about the baby growing inside you. Then, that same day you ended up at the bar, you had woken up to him gone. All of his items and personal belongings had been cleaned out, and when you tried to get a hold of him, he just completely ghosted you. You didn’t understand. Was it you? Was it the baby? Why did he just up and leave you like that with zero hesitation? It was like your heart had been shattered into pieces and you didn’t know what to do. He left you alone and pregnant with his child. 

Completely brokenhearted and confused, that’s how you ended up in the bar. No, you weren’t drinking any alcohol, but there was a part of you that wanted to head to the clinic and terminate the pregnancy all together. You couldn’t raise a baby on your own. You had seen many stories of mothers defying the odds and managing, but would you be able to? You loved your now ex boyfriend more than life itself. You didn’t think you could fall in love again, and what man would want a single mother as a girlfriend? Most of them would scurry away the second it’s brought up. It wasn’t their job to shame you for whatever choices you made. 

The bar's atmosphere was buzzing with people chatting amongst themselves. Despite being around people, you still felt completely isolated inside of it. You kept thinking of the choices in your brain over and over again. It was consuming you, and you didn’t think you were in the right state of mind to make that decision right now.

You were brought out of your thoughts when the bartender placed a glass in front of you. It was filled with some kind of alcohol that looked like it could be a margarita or a martini. Your brows furrowed at the sight of the beverage. You didn’t order it. “U-Um.. sir, I didn’t order this.” you pushed the glass towards the man behind the bar who was cleaning some cups used earlier. 

“I know, but that man over there did.” he pointed towards the other end of the bar.

You turned your attention to where he was motioning his hand. Your eyes widened a little at the sight of the man who sat a few seats away from you. He had a cowboy hat on top of his head, and very long hair that stretched past his chair. He was wearing a white button up shirt that exposed his chest just a little. He noticed you were staring at him and winked at you, then waved a little. It didn’t seem creepy or strange, but you didn’t know how to react. Despite feeling the way you did, you couldn’t help but think how handsome he was. He had a cunning smile and seemed like one of those cowboys you would have heard of in stories you heard when you were younger, but you knew you couldn’t accept his drink. 

Soon enough, you turned away and just pushed your drink from your reach. You didn’t want to do anything stupid. If it came off as rude, then so be it. You weren’t about to fight with another man this evening. 

You decided to check your phone. There was a small bit of hope that was in your heart. You hoped that maybe your ex reached out to you to fix things or maybe had something to say, but unfortunately, there was nothing. You had a few random notifications from friends, but otherwise, it was silence on the other end. God, you felt like an idiot. He was gone for good. Men who do that shit typically fall off the face of the earth and never come back again. 

“Hey, sweetheart, mind if I take this spot next to ya?” 

You practically jumped out of your skin at the sudden voice that spoke beside you. Your head snapped towards the sound, and you were a bit surprised to see that man who was sitting across the bar now standing next to you. His cologne filled your nose. It smelled of deep wood with a mix of pine. 

Your words got caught in your throat. Was he doing this to make you uncomfortable? Part of you wanted to ignore him, but he wasn’t necessarily doing anything wrong. “N-No! Go ahead.. it’s empty anyway..” you replied, trying to avoid his eyes that were boring holes into your face.

The man plopped beside you, taking a swig of his glass that seemed to be filled with some kind of whisky. He was quiet, at first. You weren’t sure if striking up a conversation was in your cards tonight. You were honestly too lost in your thoughts, and somewhat a little nauseated. “So, uh, do ya come around here often? You’re quite the peach if I say so myself.” he placed his cheek against his fist which was resting against the table beside him.

“I don’t..” you replied, dryly. 

He seemed a little discouraged by your sudden lack of enthusiasm. It wasn’t your intention, but really, you weren’t interested. “I see.. my name’s Boothill.” he said. “Yours?”

Your eyes flickered towards him then back at the soda can that your hand was wrapped around. This was starting to feel awkward or almost like a forced conversation. You didn’t want to hurt his feelings, but you wanted him to take the hint. “(Y/N)..” you looked at your cell phone to try and avoid him. “Look.. I-I appreciate the drink, but I’m not really interested in a relationship. I just don’t.. I..”

Before you were even able to finish your sentence, tears began to trickle down your cheeks. You didn’t even know you were holding them in until they began to slip from your eyes. 

Boothill was taken back by your sudden tears. He immediately felt guilt wash over him. He didn’t mean to come off as a weirdo or forceful towards you. That’s the last thing he would ever do. “Hey.. I’m sorry, shit, I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I-I can totally take the drink back and get out of your hair.” he stood up out of his chair to leave the bar. 

You started to wipe your cheeks of any liquid that was on them. “N-No, it’s alright, it’s not you..” you shook your head. “I’ve just had a rough couple of hours.. believe me, it’s not you at all.” 

The man was unsure of what to reply with. Regardless, he felt very bad for you. Not many people come into bars to weep. Most of the time, they come to do the opposite and use the drinks to numb any negative feelings they have. He didn’t want to pry by any means. “I see.. I’m still sorry,  darlin’ I had no idea..” he paused for a moment thinking of what to say next. “If you wanna talk, I’m willing to listen, can’t guarantee I’m any good at advice, but I can be an open ear.”

You weren’t sure if venting your feelings to a complete stranger would make any difference in how you felt. It's not like he would care much anyway. He would probably look at you with that same look every other person had given you when you told them what your ex did. 

However, you were completely wrong.

That day you told Boothill everything that had happened to you. He was completely blown away when you confessed that you were pregnant. He kept apologizing for the drink and was somewhat worried that you felt disrespected, but you didn’t take any offense. It’s not like he knew, nor were you even showing at that point. 

Although he didn’t know you, he had a lot of sympathy for you. He told you that your boyfriend wasn’t a man, but a young boy who couldn’t take responsibility for his actions and he didn’t deserve you by any means. Boothill felt as if abandoning a woman and her child was the sickest thing you could ever do in this life, and you couldn’t help but agree. Especially after spending many years together. 

It felt kind of nice to have someone listen. Even if he was some random person you didn’t know, there was at least somebody out there who was willing to give you the time of day. 

You felt a little dull when you realized you would probably never see Boothill again, but you thanked him many times for his patience. He was even sweet enough to walk you back to your apartment which wasn’t very far from the bar at all. Typically, you weren’t so trusting when it came to men in general, but Boothill’s energy felt secure for some reason. You didn’t feel fear or unease around him. Your body would always give you signs someone wasn’t good, but you were calm and didn’t have a single issue. 

For a little while, you wondered if keeping the child was the right option, but after a lot of conversations with your friends and family, and oddly enough, Boothill, you decided to go forward with the pregnancy. 

You thought you would have to do it alone, but that changed almost instantly when you started receiving random items at your doorstep one morning. 

You had a stable job, but you knew babies weren’t a walk in the park financially. Your parents offered to help pay for whatever was necessary, but you felt bad for making them do such a thing. It all started to shift when you discovered a package outside your apartment door. You had a box of different supplies. Baby shampoo, baby bottles, wipes, lotions. It was basic necessities for an infant and you were a bit confused how they showed up there. You questioned your parents but they denied ordering anything of the sorts, so you wondered who gifted it to you. 

Your friends were also clueless. They had gifts in mind but they weren’t planning on purchasing anything that early on in your pregnancy. You hadn’t even planned on a baby shower or anything of the sorts. 

It didn’t take long for more things to arrive. One morning, you saw that you had been given some baby toys. They were small and quite cute, but you still had yet to discover who was the one leaving them at your doorstep. You wondered if it was potentially your ex trying to somehow compensate you for deserting you, but would he really? He left you alone with the baby. It was clear enough that he wasn’t interested in helping to raise it, so why put in the effort to accommodate you? He could care less about you. 

It all changed when you were leaving your apartment one afternoon. You had an appointment at the doctor’s office to check on how the baby was doing, and standing right beside your front door was not your ex, but Boothill.

At first, you didn’t notice him holding a box of items in his hand, but the realization soon took over that he was the one buying the gifts. You were taken by complete surprise. The two of you had hardly interacted much during that time period, so it did confuse you why he was helping you. He wasn’t obligated to just because you informed him of what your ex did. It wasn’t like you were begging him for money or assistance either. Boothill was just as surprised to see you there too. He usually would stop by when he knew you wouldn’t be around, but he knew sooner or later the truth would come out.

With a flushed face, Boothill began to explain himself. 

He told you that he just couldn’t let you go on that journey alone. He knew it wasn’t his responsibility to be buying you things or even being involved in your life like that, but at the same time, he couldn’t sleep at night knowing that you were all alone and there wasn’t anybody else to be there for you. He did apologize if it made you uncomfortable and he wouldn’t come around again if that was the case. 

However, you told him the opposite. You were very thankful for what he had been doing for you. Not many men would step up and just go out of their way to buy things for a baby that wasn’t theirs. You told him you were very appreciative of what he had done, and he could come around as often as he liked. It was kind of lonely being by yourself all of the time. Your friends weren’t always the most available, and you lived on your own. It felt nice to know that somebody wanted to spend time with you. He was relieved that you weren’t weirded out or upset with his actions. He wanted to do the right thing. 

Much to his surprise, you invited him to come to your ultrasound that day, and he was thrilled.

Your interactions grew over the course of a few months. You started seeing him everyday and he came around whenever you needed something. Boothill didn’t mind spending his days with you. It was a joy to watch your belly grow and to see your baby begin to become larger than it was before. His favorite moments were when he’d feel a small kick or movement. He loved kids. It was a guilty pleasure of his, and he honestly couldn’t wait to meet your baby girl. He made so many bets that it was going to be a girl and you thought he would somehow be wrong, but he was right the entire time. 

Along with the baby's growth, there were also feelings between you and Boothill too. He was the first man in your life since your ex and he treated you so much better. He did everything for you, and the baby wasn’t even his. He would spend time helping you tidy up your house, holding your hair away from your face when you had morning sickness, making you tea, giving you massages whenever your body felt sore. Boothill did everything. He even offered at one point to do the entire nursery for you when your due date came closer, but you assured him that it wasn’t his duty to do so. 

But, he planned on doing it anyway.

All of your friends told you to go for it. They said that Boothill was what you needed and they could tell he was into you too, but you were still unsure. If anything, he could be doing all of this just to somehow hurt you in the end or claim you “owed” him a relationship for doing everything for the baby. You knew that probably wasn’t the case, but you were still on the fence.

But, was he?

-

That afternoon, you had woken up from a nap to a knocking coming from your front door. You weren’t expecting any guests, but you had already assumed it was Boothill who was there to do his usual drop by to check in on you. 

You unlocked the front door, pulling it open so he could enter. He was dressed in his usual outfit. A white button shirt with the sleeves rolled up, and those cowboy boots that you had made fun of a few times. Boothill was used to just entering your place at that point. “Afternoon, darlin’” he said, shutting the door behind him. 

Your hair was a bit messy from your nap and you weren’t really dressed up. You wore an oversized t-shirt with a pair of shorts that sat just below your belly. It was a lot more comfortable than the regular pajamas you were used to wearing months ago, but alas, the growth of your body had made those a lot less comfortable these days. Boothill still thought you were gorgeous despite the messy look. “Hi..” you yawned. “Sorry, I’m fresh from a nap. I didn’t hear my alarm..”

“Not a problem, I was just stopping by to drop something off for you.” he replied, handing you a box that had your name on top of it.

Your eyes flickered from the box to the man who was staring down at you. You were used to him giving you random things for the baby here and there, so you were expecting something that was a necessity. “I’m curious, let me see.” you then began opening at the box to see what was inside of it.

After a few seconds, you pulled out a small blanket, but it wasn’t one that was from the store. It was actually homemade, and right in the center was the baby name you had picked out stitched into the fabric with baby pink lace. It was probably the most adorable thing you had ever received from him. It was so soft and you could already picture yourself swaddling your little girl in the blanket itself. The fact that it was homemade as well made it even more special than it already was. 

You weren’t sure if it was the pregnancy emotions or not, but you could feel warm tears burning your eyes. It was truthfully making you feel so happy for this pregnancy, but most of all for Boothill. You couldn’t be more blessed with a man like him. “I-I.. I love it..” you sniffled, trying to hide your tears. “It’s so cute..”

Boothill was concerned with your sudden emotions. He didn’t mean to make you cry. If anything, he wanted to do something special for you since you were a special person in his life. “Ahh.. shit, I’m sorry, lovely, is it too much?” he asked, nodding his head. 

You shook your head, laughing in the process to try and halt the tears slipping through your eyes. It was the furthest thing from too much. You adored it. You didn’t care if the stitching was a little crooked or if the pink was somewhat bright, it was cute. It had to be one of the best gifts you had ever gotten. “N-No! I love it! It’s something I wouldn’t have imagined you’d give me! Did you do it all on your own?” you looked up at him with an eyebrow raised.

He chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Haha.. yeah, that’s why it might seem a little messy. I got the idea though and figured why not? You need something to swaddle that little monster with!” he smiled, which made you smile as well.

Boothill was taken back when he suddenly felt your arms wrap around him. This was the first time you had ever initiated any sort of physical contact with him, and he wasn’t sure how to react to it. Your body felt warm and your belly was against his own abdomen. He could smell the scent of your shampoo lingering in your hair, and it almost intoxicated him from how delicious it smelled. He hesitated for a brief moment, then settled his own arms around your waist. It just felt.. so right to be hugging you. He had yearned for quite a while to feel your touch, and now that he had it, he wasn’t going to let the opportunity slip through his fingers.

Your cheeks felt hot at the realization that you two were so close. There was so much going through your mind at the moment, and all you craved was him. His presence, his touch, his warmth, anything. It was all you wanted. “Boothill.. I want you there when she’s born..” you spoke, softly. “I want you by my side.. you deserve that more than anybody else.”

His eyes grew wide at your words. Sure, he knew he was going to visit when your baby was finally born, but in the room? During the birth? Oh, he could faint right about now. “Of course I’ll be there, sugar. You know I wouldn’t miss it.” he replied, smiling at the thought of your birth. 

Boothill then crouched down to meet your belly. He hadn’t ever done that before while being with you. You felt his hands touch your stomach, seemingly searching for your little girl who was somewhere in there. It felt so natural for him to be doing this. You didn’t feel off or weirded out. You loved the way his fingers explored your skin, touching and grazing at the stretch marks that had formed within time, but what you loved the most, was him.

“Can’t wait to meet your little one.. she’ll be a peach, I know it.” he looked up at you with a grin. 

“Our.. little one.”

Boothill paused when the words slipped from your lips. He thought he had misheard you for a second. “W-What..?” his brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

You felt a little bashful having to repeat yourself. You weren’t sure what his reaction might be to you saying such a thing, but you couldn’t keep quiet anymore about your feelings. You wanted him involved in your daughter’s life so badly. It would kill you inside if that wasn’t the case. “O-Our.. baby, Boothill.” you said, avoiding his gaze that was fixed on you.

He stood up, still staring at your face with a serious expression. It was like his heart had completely blown up inside of his chest. It was like he was falling in love with you all over again at that very moment. He couldn’t feel more honored that you thought of him that way. “You’re serious..?” he questioned, looking into your eyes. 

“Y-Yes.. god, yes, Boothill. I don’t care if she’s not technically yours.. in the end, I want you in her life, and mine too. I can’t imagine a life without you..” you whispered, intertwining your fingers with his.

He couldn’t hide his wide smile at your confession. All of the love he had swallowed down was now completely overflowing, and he didn’t mind whatsoever. You were so beautiful. He adored you so much, and he was more than happy to call you his girlfriend. He was also thrilled to have a daughter. He could care less if people would judge him for raising a child that wasn’t his. He was more of a father to her than any other man would be. 

He suddenly pulled you close to him, pressing a kiss onto your lips. It was so passionate and loving. He couldn’t stop himself. It was like he was finally able to have what he wanted, and it felt amazing. “I love you so much, darling, you don’t even know how deep my love runs for you..” he pressed his forehead against your own. “I’d die for you and our little angel..”

A grin appeared on your face. This was all you ever wanted to hear. You didn’t think you would ever have the opportunity to hear him say such things, but you couldn’t be happier it was coming true. “I love you more, Boothill.” you then placed his hand on your belly. “And I know she does too..”

The both of you couldn’t be more excited at that moment. It was all perfect. You had everything you ever wanted. Neither of you imagined that this life would be in front of you now, but you wouldn’t trade it for anything else.

© NXUVILLETTE ┆ all rights reserved, do not repost, translate, or claim as your own.

[whatifyoulivelikethat]

never not mine, m | jjk | "... in your eyes."

pairing(s): jungkook x reader

You'll find that you were never not mine. Wandering sometimes leads to finding. Finding sometimes leads to the truth. The truth sometimes leads to pinning someone to the wall and kissing them. But only if it feels right.

part i | part ii | this is part iii

warnings: rated M (18+) for language; sloooow burn; exes-to-lovers / second chance romance; angst and fluff and feels; your POV; smut (nipple play, scratching / marking, handjob, cum-eating / feeding, fingering, penetrative sex - missionary, doggy)

non-idol!AU; fashion model!Jungkook — ft fellow model/actor!Kim Taehyung and model/businessman!Kim Seokjin; reader is not part of the entertainment industry

--

“What is the most important lesson in your life you’ve learned so far?”

The most important lesson I’ve learned, huh… I think I would say that even though this world is difficult, tough, downright unbearable at times, it is okay to be comforted by the small things. I think a lot of people ignore those small things when they’re upset since they seem frivolous or out-of-touch to appreciate when you are having a hard time. But those are the most important times to enjoy them. We should not feel guilty about a small happiness. A taste of a favorite sweet. The sunset sky when you look up. Laughing with a friend even though everything around you feels dark. These moments will become the stars that will light up your universe in this black world.

For such a friendly, unassuming young man in a suit, he had been such a poet.

At first, you wondered if this was something you could apply on to your life. You had asked, it works in reverse too, doesn’t it?

He had tilted his head, inquisitive. What do you mean?

Small, painful things can slowly but surely break a reverie too, if you don’t take notice of them.

Ah. You’re right.

Each conversation had been insightful in its own way. The woman in the white dress. The most important lesson I’ve learned is loyalty. You might not make as much money or be as famous as you would if you turned your back on someone, but money and fame are fleeting. If you nurture those around you well, you will live a fulfilled life. The man with the silvery-blonde hair and white dress shirt. What an odd question. For me… to be proud of doing what I want to do, even if I may not measure up to the success of others. When I was younger, I thought it was more important to reach a massive audience, to have many people see my color. But now... I don’t think that’s what I want. I want to be an important part of someone’s life, short-term or long-term. I want my time to count to those who count. The woman in a tight denim number and lots of colorful bracelets. It’s important to be yourself. No one walks the same path. You might be too much for some but you might be just right for others, and those people will end up understand you best. The last one, a man with a bright smile and black dress shirt that seemed to barely contain his energy. An important lesson, huh? I guess I would say, go for it. Sometimes I’m uneasy or not confident in a new situation, and I have to remember to just go for it. Yeah, I think I’ve learned a lot from just doing rather than thinking too long about it. The only thing holding me back was being scared. But, being scared doesn’t mean you can’t take action. It means you can, because you have the strength to acknowledge your fear.

Yes, well.

Going for it sort of ended in smashing over a million won worth of liquor into the ground.

You couldn’t blame the advice though. Honestly, you were glad for it. You were glad for each and every connection you made tonight with those strangers. You weren’t sure if Kim Seokjin had set it all up or if each one had approached from their own curiosity. A mixture of both, maybe. Before, they had all been only pretty faces. A shallow judgement for each individual’s hopes, dreams, and realities. You were sure that was Seokjin’s plan – for you to see for yourself what kind of world you were in.

Maybe not so vapid after all.

A little silly, perhaps.

“Hmph, well, at least I can thank you for not letting me walk into a porn scene.”

You winced as Kim Seokjin folded his arms. You both had stopped at the end of the hallway with Seokjin waving the guards away to speak to you directly. Your feet were mildly hurting from standing up for so long. It could have also been due to the emotionally draining past hour.

“I had no intentions of that,” you protested.

Those perfect brows furrowed in disbelief. “Uh huh.”

You made a face. “Nothing was happening back there.”

“Uh huh,” Seokjin tittered again.

You couldn’t keep looking up at him anymore. He held a hand up as you shifted your eyes to the wall, crossing your arms too. Mostly to keep warm. And to hide a bit.

“Nu uh, I don’t want to know what dirty things you two were talking about.”

You couldn’t help but roll your eyes. “It’s not like that–”

Seokjin cut you off abruptly. “Did it help?” he inquired pointedly. “Did smashing one of my most expensive bottles of alcohol provide the catharsis you were looking for?”

You felt your cheeks heat. “S-Sorry, I’ll pay for it–”

“Hmph!” He sounded and looked offended. “I don’t need money. I have plenty of that. What I don’t have plenty of is somewhat sane people in my life. I watched you destroy public property and slap one of my security guys as if it was a normal Friday night for you.”

You cowered a bit. “Ah… I’ll apologize to him too.”

Seokjin sighed. He was a refined man with a hint of childishness that gave him eternal youth.

“I was glad to see it.”

He laughed slightly, shaking his head. You stared at him.

“I was nearly afraid that dating Jeon Jungkook had broken you.”

Wait.

“Broken me?”

His large shoulders slumped a little. “Ah, it was… It was so obvious. With Jungkook, too. It was as if the light had been sucked out of him. And you. There was a coldness about you that formed. I worried if you could hear all the whispers behind hands. Hoped Jungkook-ah had shielded you from them or, I don’t know, made you impervious somehow. But you could feel it too, couldn’t you? The ostracization. And he had contributed to it, in time.”

He had noticed.

That was enough to touch your heart.

You faltered. “It’s none of your fault. Or his circle of friends.”

Seokjin waved his hand. “Of course not. But it was still there. Hearing mindless droning all day is still a minor annoyance that builds up to a hornet’s nest over time. And I – no, we – spoke up too late.” He lowered his arms, defeated. “There isn’t much I can do, I know. But I wanted you to know that not everyone among us feels that way. Not everyone has their head in the clouds. Not just my circle of friends, but lots of people in this industry are good people with good intentions who are much better at comforting words than I am.”

You felt a surge of gratitude. Maybe for the first time tonight, you felt like crying. You lifted your head to soft, black brown eyes that were the windows to a big heart.

“Thank you.”

He seemed taken aback. “Ah… Right. Yes, you’re welcome,” he mumbled awkwardly.

You bowed to him.

“S-Stop that!” He smacked your shoulder with a mix of panic and defiance. “Don’t be ridiculous. And, anyway, I didn’t even succeed! You still ended up in an altercation with that big-nosed dongsaeng of mine. Hah…”

You laughed a little. “Ah, I’m sorry about that too. It was my fault he was so riled up.”

Seokjin gave you a contemptuous look that would put even the most disapproving aunt to shame. “No, really?”

You tried not to laugh. He was making it very difficult. It was probably the designer suit and corporately-parted hair mixed with his cartoonish reaction. “Please don’t be too hard on him.”

He made a disgruntled face as if he had to deal with an obnoxious puppy. “You should be worried about me. I’m sure he’s back there stomping his feet and being a stubborn little shit. Hah, well. I’ll have security escort you to your car waiting outside. Don’t slap anybody.”

You pouted. His youthfulness was infectious. “Aish, I won’t. I know my limits.”

“If only your other half did.” Seokjin threw up his hands in exasperation. “Go before I change my mind.”

He wouldn’t.

You backed off anyway, letting Seokjin saunter off, and was greeted halfway to the door by a kind security guard who didn’t ask if you were going to slap him. He did seem amused though. He was professional enough to keep it to himself, leading you to a side entrance where a black car was waiting to take you home after a very long and enlightening night.

-

Night felt different now.

Days felt different too, but the change wasn’t as obvious due to the hours consumed by work. There was plenty of distraction during the day, although you became strangely aware to how the world seemed different. How the sunlight seemed brighter. How there seemed to be a rhythm to the birds’ wings as they flapped away. How you occasionally caught yourself scanning the faces on streets, looking for something.

Someone.

But the sunset is when you noticed the shadows dancing around you. As the day died, you watched people slip from their responsibilities to their desires. A warm meal. A visit to the store to pick up a visual treat or a world within pages. A chance to see a familiar face, ending in a hug or, if lucky, a kiss. Stories within bodies.

You, too.

You found yourself at the movie theater again. You spent a moment, scanning the titles, picking an action movie you had never heard of. Even splurged for the popcorn, shaking it up in the bag with the salty, garlicky powder getting on your fingertips. You spotted a few clusters of friends. Couples. But also a few single individuals that were busy getting comfortable in their seats, placing their belongings just so, as if they did this all the time.

So, you too, sat down and placed your black bow purse beside you, adjusting your popcorn bag to the perfect snacking distance. It was exciting as the lights dimmed to black, enjoying the music score in surround sound, sucked into another world of imaginary action that you could safely enjoy despite all the bullets.

With popcorn, of course.

It felt different now.

It was only after you made your way home that you realized why.

And you smiled.

Another night, you decided to stop by the mall. Not to buy anything really, but to listen to the music at each of the stores. In this day and age of everything online, it was rare for you to make the effort. It was different now though, somehow. Honestly, not so bad. You purchased an overpriced drink and pretended to look at all the clothes as you listened to what was popular right now. Occasionally, you heard something interesting and pulled out your phone to search for the title of the song vis one of the lyrics, the usual way you used to do it. There were definitely apps for identifying songs instantly now, you thought, but there was something hands on and extra satisfying of replicating an old process.

You found yourself in front of a wall of skirts.

You looked up at the colors, the patterns, and saw nothing of what was currently in your wardrobe.

At work, you were required to dress semi-professionally. A lot of single-color blouses, long black skirts, simple silhouette dresses. A cardigan was your idea of spicing it up. In fact, today you were in a maroon button-up blouse with a high neck and billowy sleeves, and your signature long black skirt. Black heels with a cross strap detail, nothing special. Before, while you were dating Jungkook, you had borrowed a lot of clothes, as they had been required for specific events. Transactions. Nothing you personally owned, nor needed to. Even the small, tight dresses that you had purchased for dates you didn’t own anymore. You had donated them all. They had been purchased with the intent to look like a model’s girlfriend. Not to look like, well.

Yourself.

A pink gingham miniskirt with small red strawberries stitched onto it caught your eye.

You left the store with a brown bag with a few parcels wrapped in pink tissue paper and a lighter bank account. Did you know where you were going to wear these clothes? Nope. It was different, buying without a purpose, and yet.

It was an excuse to find an occasion.

You settled on a bench with a smile.

You held your drink and lifted your head, watching people walk past. Seeing glimpses of their stories through the windows of shops. A surprised face at seeing something they wanted. A look of bliss once they took a sniff of a scented candle. A wringing of hands in front of a gift shop, running out of time and paralyzed by decision. You took a sip, wondering if they would be successful. Your thoughts wandered, as they always did. I have someone. Individual realities parallel to yours, with the occasional interaction a demonstration of interaction. Moments that required moving against the natural course for a purpose. Sometimes a brief purpose, and sometimes entangled because they wanted to be.

The question was, did you want to be?

You had become aware of how your line had been. Dulled by distraction, lacking intersections, moving the lonely course without remorse. All the small things becoming a blur of monotony. The roses had become colorless from the coldness that you had inadvertently held onto.

Bit by bit, you were finding color once more.

You stood up with your empty cup, hurrying to find the appropriate trash can to dispose it in.

“Hey, excuse me!”

You started.

A mother with her arm around a small child’s shoulders waved at you. “Your shopping.”

“Oh, sh–sorry!”

You went back, bowing repeatedly as you picked up the brown bag, startled that you had forgotten your quite expensive purchases. The child shook their head at you. You sheepishly laughed, letting yourself be scolded by the kid. “An adult shouldn’t be so careless!” Well, that was a bit harsh, but you thanked them anyway, waving as you parted.

You turned around, returning to your escape route.

Careless, huh?

Maybe the kid was right.

Someone in black was walking down the path. A man. He was walking fast. An oversized grey beanie with dark hair poking out. Body drowning in a slashed black hoodie and ripped jeans. Black boots. Black face mask. It was a bit odd because he was wearing sunglasses inside. Still, there was no reason for you to look twice. He looked up.

Somehow you knew your eyes had met.

You slowed down.

Jeon Jungkook slowed down, reaching up to remove his glasses.

Would your eyes have met if you hadn’t had to double back to retrieve your shopping bag?

If you weren’t careless?

You saw him catch his breath as soon as he knew it was you. You weren’t sure how he knew. Then again, how did you know? This entire adventure had been on a whim. He stopped at a reasonable distance from you, and half-lowered his face mask, as if to greet you. But neither of you could utter a word. You held your small black purse that you haven’t changed in several years. It was a simple design with the designer embossed in very small font above a leather bow sewed flush to the front. Unremarkable, really, unless you knew.

And he knew, because Jungkook had brought it for you.

The first gift at the very beginning. He looked from the bag to you. Wondering if he should comment on it. He hesitated, and you understood why. Two parallel lines. No interaction would occur unless one moved against the natural course and doing so would be, well.

Careless.

“I hope,” you started, cautiously. Something flickered in those big brown orbs. “I hope Kim Seokjin didn’t scold you too much.”

He lowered his head a bit, half-laughing and half-scowling. “I did get a scolding for causing a commotion.”

“It was my fault,” you acknowledged once again.

He shook his head. “No, it was mine.”

You half-smiled. “Wanna fight about it?”

Jungkook raised his head, still holding onto the bottom of his face mask. You could see the mirth in his stance. It was almost as if there wasn’t a weighing limbo trapped between you and him.

“Actually, yeah.”

Almost immediately, you saw him falter, as if he knew he shouldn’t say something like that. You felt a sting witnessing it. He opened his mouth, and you almost heard it, his casual, just kidding, and this wasn’t like him at all.

“Hey, Jungkook.”

You interrupted him before he could add, just kidding. He stiffened, exposing hints of the printed white t-shirt under the tears of his hoodie. You were both occupying space on the walkway. People needed to walk around, some unbothered, some slighted by the inconvenience. His name on your tongue felt foreign and familiar at the same time. An end and a beginning all at once.

I have someone.

So did you.

You smiled.

“It’s really good to see you out and about.”

His eyes widened. You hoped he could tell that you meant it. “Yeah.” He cleared his throat a bit, trying to eliminate the sudden croak. “Yeah. You too. I’m…” His eyes shifted a bit. He was always focused on you, regardless. “I’m glad I ran into you today.”

And maybe that was it.

You were okay with that, though. That might have previously been a lie, but not now. It was probably unnecessary to say. Perhaps you had spoken up for some sort of closure, for both you and him. A chapter ended in some way.

He rubbed the back of his neck, ticking his head to the brown bag by your side. “You came to shop today?”

You held it up halfway with a chuckle. “Ah, well… It wasn’t the plan. Ended up that way.” You noticed the way he intently observed your actions. Couldn’t avoid it, really. You lowered the bag, not hiding even though it was maybe the better thing to do. “What about you?”

He paused. Had he forgotten already? You watched him gain his bearings with bemused patience.

“Ah, I…”

Jungkook looked and sounded embarrassed.

“What the hell,” he muttered, shaking his head. “Actually, I cancelled a shoot last minute.”

Your head tilted. “I’m surprised. That’s not like you.”

His pink lips upturned. You could spot that tiny mole underneath them, right at the center. “Yeah…” He trailed off, unable to meet your gaze. Ashamed, almost.

“It’s okay, though,” you offered. You hated to see that expression on his face. “You did what you felt was right. These things happen.”

He scoffed, shoving his hands in his pockets. “I haven’t cancelled a shoot since…” He stopped.

You waited.

Jungkook glanced at you. You saw a pink twinge dust across his cheekbones.

“Since I first asked you out.”

You blinked at him. “What are you talking about?” You frowned. “I don’t remember anything like that.”

He winced and looked up at the ceiling, rocking on his heels a bit. “Actually, I… I lied. I pretended I wasn’t getting any bookings. Just to spend time with you in the beginning. But, uh, then I felt guilty. I wasn’t the man I thought I needed to be. The man you deserved.” He sighed, yanking one of his hands out to scratch his eyebrow absentmindedly. “But maybe I never was, because then I got swept up in all that bullshit.”

Jungkook looked down.

“I know it’s too late to say such things now.”

He seemed to collapse a little bit despite his tall frame.

“Now, it’s…” He sighed. “I can’t concentrate at all. I keep asking myself what I’m doing. For a while there I kept working in hopes that you would…” He grimaced again, but chose to ramble on anyway. “So you would still see me everywhere. Stupid, huh? And now it’s just…” He shook his head. “I think I should give up.”

You didn’t know what to say.

He took a deep breath and straightened. “Ah, my bad. I went on for nothing.” Bowing slightly, backing away. “I have a lot on my mind. I didn’t expect to run into you and now I’ve run my mouth like a madman.”

“Jungkook.”

His name came out of your mouth before you registered it. He stopped moving, looking back at you, halfway between pulling up his face mask. You struggled to find the words, clutching your unexpected purchases and your racing heart, his first present to you against your ribs.

“Don’t give up.”

You made sure not to break eye contact.

“It’s not like you to give up, you know. It’s my… my favorite thing about you.”

He seemed stunned.

“R… Really?”

You couldn’t help but smile. Nervously albeit fiercely determined.

“One of many.” You relaxed a bit, relieved that you were able to say so. You laughed a little at the absurdity of it all. “Although perhaps we need to stop doing these kinds of things in public.”

Jungkook jumped, seemingly realizing all the people around too. “Ah… Whoops.”

You bowed as you spoke. “Then, I’ll…”

The way he said your name, so soft and dreamlike, made you freeze mid-movement. He seemed flustered, stepping a little closer to you. It was the correct moment to pull back, replace some respective distance between you and him to keep a measure of strangers, and yet.

You let your eyes meet his under wisps of black hair sticking out of his beanie.

“Can we spend a little more time together? If it’s not too much trouble?”

It was. You had work tomorrow. You needed to get home and put away your things. Wash up. Do your nightly routine to unwind. Get back to being a responsible adult with responsibilities living a responsible life.

Your lips curved into a mischievous smile.

“Sure.”

-

“Where do you want to go?”

“Anywhere.”

You were standing by his motorbike now. His pride and joy, yet you knew it was rarely used in his day-to-day life. For the best, probably, considering the risk. You weren’t surprised to see it today though. He always rode when he felt frustrated or out of it. The walk here had been silent, which you had expected. Jungkook was the king of speaking without a plan. You didn’t mind it, though. It reminded you of good times.

He awkwardly shuffled, obviously realizing that himself now.

“Hey.”

“Uh?” he answered distractedly.

“Why did you ask me out back then?”

He fumbled with his hands a bit. “Ah, that’s…”

You tilted your head, patiently waiting.

“I…” He stuttered a bit. Cleared his throat again. “I just couldn’t help but look twice. I thought you were hot as hell.”

You almost snorted. “Don’t you encounter enough of that at work?” you chuckled.

He shook his head. “No, it’s more like… Um, even if they’re attractive, everyone knows it is pretty for a purpose. They’re all taking care of themselves. Looks are the selling point, after all.” He poked at his own chest. “Me too.” He raised his head to you. “But you’re different. You don’t have to think about how you look will reflect in a paycheck. You take care of yourself for yourself.”

You thought about it. It didn’t seem that extraordinary. “Well, anybody can do that.”

He smirked.

“If anybody could do it, why could I only see you?”

Heat rushed to your cheeks. You raised a hand to smack him and stopped short. Instead, you let your hand fall and half-rolled your eyes. “Ehhh, don’t try to pull that stuff on me.”

He laughed behind his hand. “Have to try.”

You frowned with feigned annoyance. Jungkook had always been taller than you, even in heels, assuming you weren’t opting for miniature stilts. Still, you always had the impression he was never looking down at you, but up, even when his eyes were downcast.

“Yeah, that.”

You narrowed your eyes. “What?”

“That look you’re giving me right now,” he chuckled sheepishly. “I knew you’d be able to balance me out and set me straight.”

You squinted at him. You let out a puff of air and looked away, tumbled into memories where maybe you could have been the one to change the course of these parallel lines. “Yeah, and look where that got us,” you muttered.

Sigh.

Somewhere behind you, a car honked loudly.

“Standing next to each other?” Jungkook quietly asked.

Two cars were having trouble at an intersection at the end of the row.

Standing next to each other.

Your gaze drifted back and locked with his. He didn’t try to hide the emotions his eyes. You were quite sure he could see through you too. The impasse remained, not because a bridge couldn’t be built, but because it couldn’t bear to be burned once more. Once more meant it would crumble to ash and disappear forever. You had thought it already had, until tonight.

You tried to reason with the unreasonable. “You cannot believe you skipping work and me deciding to spend a good chunk of my paycheck to mean some serendipitous shit, can you?” you scoffed.

He gave you that brilliant smile that had tamed you from the very beginning.

“You–”

You poked him hard in the chest.

“Ahh!”

Jungkook must not have expected that at all.

He almost fell over.

Your hand shot out and grabbed a fistful of his hoodie, dragging him back. His body lurched, slightly off balance, and your elbow swung forward, bracing onto his abs, leaving your faces close enough together for bystanders to get the wrong idea. For him to get the wrong idea. For you, too. You were close enough to count his eyelashes.

Enough time elapsed that you might as well have.

“What… What is with you?” you muttered, gripping his clothes. “You’re so… dramatic.”

He had another piercing on the side of his right lip now. Huh. How come you didn’t notice? Probably too busy being mad at him. Or not staring at his lips in fear of indecent thoughts. This current proximity and shared heat were not helping. His hands were somehow on your shoulders. Probably to steady himself. Or something else. You weren’t sure.

Jungkook stared at your lips.

You didn’t back away.

He leaned down and kissed you.

He must be an idiot to put you both in this position again. You must be an idiot too, because you kissed him back. Fuck it. Your hand on his chest relaxed, fingers spreading out, pressing your lips to his, breathing him in. He still used the same cologne you had complimented on back then. It made you smile into his lips. His tense hands on your shoulders fluttered, one slipping down to your upper arm, the other grazing your neck. His thumb brushing the side of your cheek. His other fingers weaving into your hair, tilting his head slightly. No promises, but.

A dream made.

You tapped his chest, forcing him to break the connection.

“W… What?” Jungkook gasped, his short breath mixing into yours.

“Not… Not here,” you chuckled, feeling your racing pulse in your throat. “I think we’ve done enough public reconciliation. Adding public indecency is not it. Someone is going to recognize you soon.”

Those shadowed eyes watching you were telling you he was ready to risk it.

“No,” you gritted, punching his chest lightly. Surprisingly, Jungkook did not budge and held on very strongly to your arm. “Stop that. Stop it with the sex eyes.”

He grinned. You could tell from the way his eyes crinkled. “Is it working?”

You pried yourself from him with some effort.

“All you’re telling me is that you really like handcuffs.”

“Promise?”

You straightened your clothes and answered absentmindedly. “Promise what?” You looked up to give him an indignant expression. He took your purchases to place them in the back of his motorcycle, giving you no verbal response.

Just a sneaky smirk in return.

-

“What did you think was gonna happen?”

“Uh…”

Before he could make another sound, you grabbed Jeon Jungkook by the collar and dragged him to you.

It was different.

Just not in the way you thought it would be.

Part of you thought to hold back. Build a solid foundation to see if this would work. Talk for a long while, move slow, step by recommended step. Then again, if you actually believed that, you would have instructed him to take you back to your apartment. Maybe send him off with a kiss and a pat on the head. You know. The complete opposite of shoving him up against his living room wall and tracing your tongue over his moaning lips with his hands gripping your waist. If this was going to work, it was always going to work. It didn’t matter if it was the wrong way or the right way.

This love was either going down in a blaze of glory or start an everlasting fire.

Might as well get on the ride.

You let him kiss down your neck, your hands sliding down to his. Interlocking fingers. Shivering at the sensation of his lips in your skin, familiar and new. Body-to-body. You pulled up his hands to force him to lose the top layers, including the beanie, exposing his toned chest and gleaming tattoos going from his right hand to his shoulder. His hoodie and t-shirt fell to the floor in a soft thump. His hair was different than when you had last seen him. Sides shaven, the top still long, messy black waves due to being crammed into the beanie. He flicked his head back, sending black strands all over his half-moon eyes, glistening pink lips parted in a soundless gasp.

You took his wrists and pinned Jungkook to the wall.

Panting, watching him under you despite looking upwards.

“W… What?” he breathed, locked in your transfixed stare.

It was different, yet it was the same. You could feel it. There could have been many others between the last time and right now. You knew there wasn’t. It was both sad and validating, because you knew how much he hated being alone, but now you knew there was truth to those promises he had said to you between sheets and pillows.

You leaned down and licked a wet, fat stripe over his chest, dripping saliva all over him.

Jungkook moaned, leaning his head against the wall.

“You belong to me,” you whispered over his heart. Raised your head and he was looking back at you.

Only you.

“I belong to you,” he whispered back.

You skimmed your lips over his skin.

“Prove it to me.”

He surrendered.

To your tongue, tracing patterns over his collarbones. To your lips, dotting kisses and making him flinch, whining for more. To your hands, holding him down and at your mercy, exploring him with sight, touch, and taste. You let go of one of his wrists to trail your nails over his abdomen, observing the way his body rippled, lifting towards you as sensitivity increased. You let your fingers wander, around his waist and into shaded territory, running your nails down his spine, watching his reaction. His head tilted back, hair in wisps around his temples, dark eyes clouded in lust.

Your name slipped from his lips.

You dug your nails into his lower back and pulled yourself up, unable to keep the side of your lips from curving upwards at his delicious whines.

“Take off my blouse.”

His fingertips slid across the slinky maroon fabric. Button by button, the fabric began to unravel in his hands, your forehead to his as he did so. You took his breath, tracing his muscles, murmuring his name just to feel him shiver as he heard it.

“I never had anyone else after you,” he mumbled, circling one of the buttons with his thumb. “I couldn’t.”

“You could have,” you hummed. “You were a free man.”

Jungkook undid the last button and stared into your eyes.

“No, I’m not.”

You half-smiled. “I wouldn’t take it personally.”

He leaned in again, brushing your lips with his.

“I belong to you.”

His touch, his kiss, the dance of mesmerizing senses. You stepped back. He followed. Tangled in each other, your blouse slipping off and dropping to the floor. Your bra unclasped, tumbling, his hands all over, places he had been a million times and desiring forevermore, squeezing your breasts with his hands, almost tripping over your skirt as you stepped out of it. His pants joined the trail of passion, and then his tongue was on you, lifting you in his arms and tasting your hard nipples with your hands in his hair, clutching his head for support with your legs around his waist.

“I’m going to fall,” you gasped, breathless.

“Over my dead body,” was the muffled answer with his face buried into your breasts. “Fuck, I love your ass.”

Perhaps to avoid death getting two for the price of one, Jungkook let you down, devouring you with kisses with your taste lingering on his lips, sinking his fingers into the soft curves. You curled your tongue against his, making him moan, hips grinding against hips, feeling his insistent hardness against your softness, trapping himself between your legs. You were still in your panties and he was still in his boxer briefs, although the thin fabrics were merely a nuisance to the inevitable.

“Jungkook…”

He was thrusting into you and jamming his cock in between your thighs, his strong arms wrapped around you and his teeth on your shoulder. You hummed, torn between telling him off and enjoying the feeling of his arousal swelling between your legs, but it was he who gasped and threw his head back, his hard length twitching against your clothed pussy.

“You ready to include me in this?” you questioned, amused.

“S-Sorry… Can’t help myself…”

Somehow, by instinct and minor effort, you were both in his bedroom now. The familiar bed you had once called yours, remembering the future dreamed upon those white sheets. Jungkook pulled you to them, calling you to the paradise that could only be created between two. Don’t, was your meek protest as he pulled down your panties and kneaded your thighs, shaking his head, I don’t care, and his tongue slid over your heat. Wet, dripping, your sweet taste and his saliva. He moaned between your legs, decorating you with kisses before sliding his tongue over you, drinking you desperately, you taste so fucking good, fuck, and your fingers buried into the sheets. He remembered everything you liked. Steady, soft licks, then harder when your legs tensed, tipping his head to bring his lips around your clit, drenching his chin with your wetness.

His hands turned and slipped under your legs, dragging you to his face by your ass.

“F-Fuck, Jungkook…”

You reached down and gripped his hair as you came on his face, his muffled gasp of surprise drowned out by the moan produced through your arched back and prolonged euphoria. Fuck. Fuck, it hadn’t been evident how much you missed this, no, him, your knuckles against the crown of his head, his hot tongue all over, his fingers locked onto your ass, even the way his nose brushed against your oversensitive clit as he thrust his tongue into your pussy, triggering another wave of pleasure, sparking electricity that burned through your veins.

His.

He pulled himself up with a groan, his mouth all over your body. Leaving bites, kisses, licks in his lustful wake. Your nails dug into his shoulder and he made that whimper you loved, obviously wanting more, and so you clawed his upper back as he pretended to resist you, refusing to move higher as he sucked on your nipples, gazing at you under half-lidded eyes, rubbing your other nipple between his fingers.

“Take it,” you growled under your breath.

He did, rubbing his hard, neglected cock against your thigh, denying himself longer.

Over time, you had hesitated to do such things. Jungkook had gotten in trouble before for being marked up. After all, his body was his selling point, and booking back-to-back shoots with poor choices in between ended up in humiliation. Unjustly so, perhaps, but you never did it again. Maybe you should have been more considerate this time too, but, no, that wasn’t what he was asking for.

He wanted the consequences of you.

He brought his face close to yours, your orgasm still on his breath.

“Mark me,” Jungkook demanded, his voice low and deep and gravelly. “I’m yours.”

So you did.

Hickeys on his perfect neck, sharp nails over his ass as you pushed down his underwear, adorning him with fierce, vicious passion that bruised him. He kissed your forehead, buried his fingers in your hair, and pinned you to him, pre-cum dripping onto your hip as he kicked off his restraints, pressing his hardness to you.

“You’ll get in trouble,” you warned even though the damage was already done.

“I don’t care,” he retorted, his thigh rubbing against your still-wet pussy. “I don’t care if I have to cancel the rest of the week. I don’t care if I never work in the modeling industry again. The only thing I care about is making sure you always know how much I love you.”

You froze, your lips above the inked floral mandala on his right shoulder.

“I should have made time.”

His arms drew up and encircled your head, his lips against the crown.

“I’m so, so sorry for not realizing how disrespectful I was to you. And I won’t do it again,” he murmured, leaving kisses intertwined with your hair. “I promise.”

“I…”

You reached up and held his shoulders, anchored despite the turbulence of an emotional sea.

“I missed being by your side, Jungkook.”

If his hard dick wasn’t literally throbbing against your hip, you might have cried.

You reached down and touched him.

“Ah!”

“Woah.” Your arm hooked around his waist as your hand enclosed around his girth. “I’m just making sure he’s keeping interest even during this emotional breakthrough.”

His cheeks flushed as he realized he had chosen his moment with possibly suboptimal timing. He didn’t have to worry. His body seemed to recognize your hand right away. You could feel the way his cock eagerly twitched on your palm. You cocked an eyebrow. He gave you a the-fuck-you-expect look, and you curled two fingers around his balls, lightly massaging with the pads of your fingers, simulating your tongue. He gasped, gripping your shoulders.

You leaned down and spit in your hand.

“F-Fuck!”

You backed up and slowly, leisurely, spread the slippery saliva all over his cock, letting him adjust his knees to give you a better positioning. Your other arm had moved behind you, lifting your torso up as you jacked him off. He seemed to not know what to do with his hands, foreign objects in his possession before his eye line drifted down. Down. His fingers trailed over your breasts, squeezing them and playing with your nipples as you increased the pace.

“Handcuffs could come in handy right now,” you commented.

He glared at you.

“S… Shut up.”

His cock had throbbed at the suggestion though.

You tilted your head, watching his breathing quicken as you applied the pressure where he liked it, the same pulse every time, not too fast and not too slow, building the frustration with a smile.

His face tensed.

Faster. A little tighter. Your thumb rubbed just under the base of the head with every ascent. He placed his palms against your hard nipples and you felt the familiar snap of his hips, leaning into your hand, his eyelashes fluttering, and for a brief moment you considered stopping.

Then again, these weren’t your sheets.

He gasped out your name and shot all over your stomach and thigh.

Hot, thick cum splattered onto your skin, making you suck in a breath as you felt it, saw it, smelled it, intense and strong and all over you. You were lucky it was on the thicker side, white streaks sticking to your body rather than running off. A painting of perverse proportions. Jungkook stared at his work, still semi-hard in your hand, clearly turned on by the sight. You sent him a questioning look.

“What now?”

Then he shocked you, and probably himself, by diving down and running his warm tongue over your cum-covered skin.

“Oh, what–”

Instant burning tingles spread throughout your nerves at the contact, vibrating through to your core, dripping as you witnessed the milky white coat his tongue. Your hand touched his shoulder, drawing him up, and he was tamed by your gesture, rising, his lips smeared with his release, and you drew closer to the heavy scent, to him. Lips to lips. Drank it from his mouth, swallowing the mixture of saliva and orgasm. Your tongue tangled in his, his fingers in between your legs again, thrusting two fingers into you, following the pull you had on him. Deep, slow, faster as the kiss grew more intense, breath to consumed breath, rolling your hips up into his hand, tightening around him, and Jungkook moaned, getting harder in your hand as your slick arousal drenched his.

“Condom?”

They spilled over the bed in his haste.

You were pleased to see it was the same brand you usually enjoyed. There wasn’t much to be read into that, though, because they had become his favorite as well per your introduction. You wondered if there would be a second first-time awkwardness and you were immediately proven wrong from the desperate and experienced way Jungkook dragged your ass to line up his dick. There was no time to be anxious, it seemed.

“You’ve acting like you’ve never had me before,” you teased.

Those dark eyes narrowed. “Don’t act like you don’t have the tightest, most perfect pussy I’ve ever been in.”

You half-shrugged. “Things could change.”

He slid in and clenched his jaw.

“You liar.”

You smirked and closed in around his length.

“F-Fuuuuuuuck me…”

You could have probably kept it up if it wasn’t for how fucking good he felt inside you. Just the right girth, and he lifted your legs, deeper, gasping, reaching the depth you liked. Your thighs against his chest. You locked eyes. Jungkook cocked an eyebrow with a familiar smirk. The corner of your lips ticked upward, and the rough, powerful pace began, your hand gripping his tattooed forearm and the other the sheets, losing yourself to the pleasure, pressed between the mattress and his hard body. His eyes closed, your lashes fluttering, witnessing glimpses of bliss, whispers of sweet nonsense lost between moans, leaning your head back onto his pillows, sinking into his scent.

Belonging to him.

His hair flicked sweat onto your chest. Your hand on the bed bent back and shoved the pillows down, using the leverage to lift your hips to his thrust, moaning at the visceral sound of slapping hips, wet and loud and vibrating throughout the room.

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” he panted out between gasps. “Fuck, you’re so fucking beautiful.”

You tried to deliver a compliment back but it was getting harder and harder to breathe. Your orgasm abruptly interrupted any coherent though, forcing you to bury your head back and endure the vice-grip of wanton delirium, barely able to gasp out his name as the hot wave dragged you under, your inner walls viciously pulsing all around his length. You heard Jungkook groan and attempt to say something, probably how much he enjoyed feeling your orgasm, he had done so before, however he seemed to be in his own dilemma as well, clenching his jaw and snapping his head down, the muscles of his chest taut and tense, and, in your intoxicated haze, you realized he was attempting not to follow, but.

“Fuck!”

He slammed his cock into you and cursed, throwing his head back as you felt the jerk of his cock spilling into the condom, trapped in your tightness, dragged into the kind of fever that couldn’t be sweat out, sinking down, down.

You stilled, suspended in bliss.

It was a little easier to breathe now. You missed this. Him, specifically. The sex you had together, carnal and intense and unparalleled. Closed your eyes, breathing hard, feeling the familiarity of Jungkook on top of you, spent, sweaty, frantic for round two. He didn’t like stopping if he could help it. It was one of his best traits. You felt him lower your legs carefully, backing out of you with a hiss.

Then you heard a wet, dirty sound.

You opened one eye.

He was staring at your body.

Running his fingers over his still-hard cock, bringing it back to full hardness.

“Let me look at you.”

You hummed. “You’re only seeing one side.”

His dark eyes shifted up to yours.

“Okay. Turn over.”

Desire turned his voice deeper, huskier.

With a sly smile, you rolled over, and scooted onto your knees, spreading your ass for him. You heard him suck in a breath, that’s so fucking sexy, and you flexed, letting him watch, entrancing him with the visual and the obvious sound of your wetness.

“Every part of you is perfect.” You could hear him jacking himself off, hard and fast. “Fucking perfect.”

“I feel that your judgement is clouded right now,” you answered back, muffled by his pillows in your face.

You heard the ripping sound and then a groan as he rolled down the condom. Then his strong hands grabbed your hips, prompting you to let go, and he sank into you.

“Fuck no, it’s not,” he gasped, picking you up by the hips to fully sheath himself. You managed to pull a pillow to your chest to allow ample breathing room. “I don’t want anyone else. No one else can satisfy me.”

You made your pussy tighten around him and he moaned again, his hot breath washing down your spine.

“Then let me satisfy you,” you purred, leaning back into him.

Your ass met his crotch in a loud, gratifying smack, easily locking into a rhythm you both enjoyed. Hard, aggressive, powerful, not holding back, you lifting a hand to extend back, and he caught your forearm, thrusting deeply as he held onto you. All of his power was directed below, the grip on your arm simply a symbol of possession, forcing you to lift your head and arch your back, adjusting to that more fruitful angle, sending heat all throughout your blood and nerves, the tension building, louder, harder, more.

He let you go, and you bucked back against him.

Moaned your name, delicious and desperate, begging you.

It was hard to count your orgasms. They seemed to blend into one another, entangled with the passion and the beat, not wanting to stop even as you struggled to breathe, clutching the pillow so hard that you could still feel your nails digging into your palm. The lust searing and yet not enough, chasing more, wanting more, wanting him, only him, your only, the one that belonged to you.

Your head tipped back, seeing only fragments of your surroundings, your hair a mess over your face.

“Jungkook, I love you,” you gasped.

You felt his hips flinch and he moaned your name, long and drawn-out, his hard cock jolting inside you, gripping your hips so tightly you probably had imprints of his fingertips. There was a flurry of expletives and panting. The haze of inexplicable euphoria settling, unavoidable and desired. You closed your eyes, savoring his release, feeling the radiating vibrations of his high pour into you as he slid down, his hot hands over your back, his shuddering exhales warming your shoulder blades.

Sweat, in small shivering droplets, sprinkled onto your skin.

“I love you too.”

He pressed his fingertips into your rising and falling body, touching you all over, confessing to your racing heart beneath his lips.

“I love you so fucking much.”

-

“Are you sure about this?”

“Yeah, totally.”

You turned your head to see Jungkook staring at your tits. You tucked a knuckle under his chin and forced it up. He gave you the big-peepers-in-headlights look.

“Huh?”

“Are you sure about this?” you repeated once more.

He gave you a confused look. “Yeah. I thought we talked about it?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Pardon me, but I’m not sure how much I can trust a discussion we were having with you balls deep inside me.”

“Eh?” His lower lip upturned. “Why not?”

You rubbed your temple with two fingers. “Why not, hah…”

“I meant it.”

You pulled one of his pillows over your naked chest so he could focus. You weren’t even sure why he had these. Jungkook slept on one of those stiff cylindrical pillows that was supposedly more comfortable. You weren’t too sure about how good that was for his neck, but sometimes you just have to accept the strangeness of your significant other. He must have kept these for the look of a nicely made bed. Or for moments like this. His eyes went back to your face again, reluctantly. He seemed a little disappointed.

“You don’t think I meant it?”

You saw his eyes were drifting to your thighs now. “It’s not really that…” You considered it. “It’s more… Well, we’ve tried already, you know. Aren’t you afraid it’ll happen again?”

His gaze shifted. You waited, letting him collect his thoughts.

“Afraid?” You saw him reflect the past and the mistakes. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I am. I’m definitely going to change from how I was before. I can see how my work-life balance was shit, as both a friend and boyfriend. I don’t want to go back to that either,” Jungkook mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck. “I get it now. I can’t get time back. I was stupid, thinking me overworking myself wouldn’t drive you away, you know, we would have so much more time later… I went about it the worst way. I didn’t even discuss it with you. That was just me being selfish, and that selfishness made me insecure… I don’t want that anymore. I promise you that.” He shook his head and looked up at you guiltily. “Still… I can’t promise I won’t fuck up in some other way. And that scares me. But I have to act, even if I’m scared. Even if your final answer is, let’s not see each other anymore, at least I will have honestly given you my all this time, because you are it for me.”

You shook your head too. “There could be someone out there for you that is a lot more suitable than me. The world is the big place.”

He frowned, exasperated. “No. No, you don’t get it.” He placed a hand on your knee and looked into your eyes. “You are it for me. The world is big place, but my world is right here.” He poked you and you laughed, startled at the suddenness. A smile burst onto his face, holding your knee down, trying to drive his point home over your mirth. “Hey! Hey. I really meant it. All of it.”

You stopped laughing.

Somehow one of your hands was covering his now, feeling his warmth and hard knuckles in your palm.

“I belong to you,” Jungkook repeated, his own I love you. “I can’t love anyone else like how I love you. I don’t care if you believe me or not. Even if you leave me, sure, I might find someone to not be lonely with, but I will only belong to you.”

You held onto his hand, curling your fingers into his palm. “You…” This man was crazy, saying things like this. He affectionately squeezed your knee, flashing that killer smile of his.

“So… Yeah, I’m sure.”

He pulled his hand from under yours and touched your cheek, his knuckles against your skin.

“I’ll go along with whatever you choose.”

Truth was, you had already chosen.

“I’ll do my best too,” you murmured quietly, holding the pillow tightly. “I won’t let myself be complacent anymore.”

From the look in his eyes, you saw that Jungkook recognized that it had become an unintentional consequence of his actions. He smiled, still stroking your cheek.

“Yeah. Let’s be a team this time.”

You nodded, smiling back.

An extended silence of staring into each other’s eyes.

“Jungkook.”

“Hm?”

“Are you just imagining rubbing your dick on my cheek?”

His rough fingertips grazed over your jaw. “Yeah,” he replied dreamily.

You smacked his hand.

“Ow!”

“Pay attention!”

“W-Wha, what?” He pouted. “What am I supposed to do!”

You grimaced, feigning annoyance but also not really. This guy. “No wonder we could only have serious talks in public or incarcerated…” you muttered.

“Ah, yeah, that reminds me.”

You raised an eyebrow at him as he twisted around and reached over to his phone, watching the ripple of his back muscles as he moved. Damn. This guy. He bounced back, messing about on the screen. You were too busy admiring the definition of his arms to notice, until.

“What kind of handcuffs should we buy?” Jungkook chirped, turning his phone to showing you the screen display of a sex goods webstore.

You blinked at him.

“What.”

And thus begun round two.

-

epilogue

“Hey- oh, wow.”

You stilled, surprised.

‘Oh, I thought you were going to meet me there?”

In your hand was your well-loved small black purse with a bow. Your other hand held the door open, seeing the tall form of Jeon Jungkook gawking at you in his matching denim jacket and jeans. Calvin Klein, the same brand as his white t-shirt under the jacket. That same brand was holding a lunch event today, except one of their attendees was blocking your path, open-mouthed at your hips wrapped in a tight, pink gingham miniskirt with embroidered red strawberries. Then his stare went to your chest, to the emerald-green satin blouse that complimented the little green accents of the mini strawberries, although you suspected his interest was less in the color and more in the way the seams accentuated the curve of your breasts.

You raised your eyebrows.

“I… I left early. I wanted to pick you up,” he was saying absentmindedly.

You gestured to the black car waiting at the front. “I already ordered a car, though. I can’t ride with you on your bike in this skirt.”

“We can get in the car.” Jungkook’s eyes went back down. You knew he wasn’t admiring the delicate crisscross straps of your black velvet pumps. “Damn, your legs,” he mumbled.

The driver of the car was about to watch a live-action porno if you didn’t take action. You set the alarm and lock before stepping out. Immediately, Jungkook’s hand raised, as did his gaze. You looked from the tattooed hand to his face. He grinned, creating sparkles in his big dark brown eyes.

“I ran off, hehe. I just wanted to personally accompany my darling,” he admitted. “Hopefully no one noticed.”

You fitted your hand in his, letting him lead you. “You’re too handsome not to notice. What a troublemaker,” you joked, pleased at his rebellion.

“Your troublemaker now. Where are we eating?”

“There’s a French themed café near some shops. After, could we stop by the tea shop? My dad has a request I need to fulfill.”

“Ooo, I love adventures with my future wife.”

You gave him a curious smirk. His mischievous grin just kept getting bigger, that underlip mole suddenly visible like a secret wink. He had been dropping such hints lately. You pretended to gloss over it even though the discussion of dream rings had already happened months ago. You reached out to open the car door and Jungkook impatiently nudged your hand away, doing it for you so you could enter easily in your heels. It was a very nice thing to do.

Taehyung probably grilled such behaviors into him. Not that you were complaining, of course.

You confirmed the destination with the driver as Jungkook got in the car from the other side, taking care to hook his sunglasses on the front of his shirt. You heard his phone vibrate. You turned your head to see him snickering at it.

“Taehyungie’s mad that I left him alone.”

“Whoops.” You did feel a little bad.

He waved a hand, tongue in cheek. “He’ll get over it.”

Your eyes met.

He had such beautiful, expressive eyes that held the stars every time he saw you.

“You sure?” you asked quietly.

Jungkook reached over and stroked your cheek with a smile.

“I’m sure I want to eat lunch with my future wife, yup. Then I’ll buy tea for her dad so I can get on his good side.”

You laughed. “Sounds like a sweet master plan.”

His black hair loosely styled over his forehead made him look younger. You knew better. Perhaps grown was not the word for it, but you could tell he was becoming more and more of the man he wanted to be every day. Attending events with Jungkook was different these days; he checked on you throughout the night, actively included you in conversations, and even introduced you to people he thought you might enjoy talking to, now to the point that familiar faces would come up to you first before they recognized him. But what was more important was this – arranging quality time to spend together, more communication, and obvious commitment. The pleasant surprise not being flowers or sweets or other material things, and instead his presence earlier than expected.

His laugh at night.

His forehead kiss in the morning, even if you were half-awake in bed.

His silly photos of fogging up a makeup artist’s mirror with his breath and drawing a heart with your name inside it.

He still had a hectic schedule, but now you and him knew when enough was enough. You could finally talk about it before either of you became too stressed out or lonely by it. That improvement was worth that entire roller coaster to get here.

You smiled.

He smiled back, his knee touching yours.

He was still stroking your cheek.

“Jungkook.”

“Hm?”

“What are you thinking right now?”

He didn’t respond right away. He just adjusted his legs suspiciously and gave you his most innocent look that indicated he was most certainly guilty.

“Eh?”

You took him by the wrist and slowly lowered it before the driver could notice your partner-in-crime’s suspicious behavior. He pouted at you. The tent in his pants twitched. You cocked an eyebrow. Then you remembered something.

“Oh, by the way.”

He perked up. “What is it?”

You unzipped your purse a little bit and flashed the edge of shiny silver metal and chain.

“I borrowed something from a friend.”

Jungkook looked down.

Odd that it took him more than a moment to recognize handcuffs, considering that he – and you – had so much prior experience with them. His eyes went wide once it clicked. His cheeks flushed red. You smirked and rezipped your bag.

“What the fu–”

fin.

-

i hear... | ... the whispers... | ... in your eyes.

inspired by taylor swift's imgonnagetyouback :)

--

masterpost

[blues-valentine]

I think some people that are so convinced Tashi doesn’t love Art are so fixated in portraying her as a heartless manipulative woman that only cares about him in the sense of Tennis and that can all be true but she also does love him in her own twisted self absorbing ways, implying the opposite feels offensive to Tashi who isn’t the type to submit herself to a relationship of 15 years with someone she could barely tolerate.

She is absolutely living vicariously through Art as a Tennis player, but you also get the sense of intimacy and small moments that Tashi is Art’s wife and partner, not just his coach. It’s subtle, but it’s there. Them cuddling on the coach could easily be them on any Sunday morning when their relationship isn’t at odds. And you can see Tashi smiling a little in that moment.

Their relationship was also build on a genuine interest — they didn’t get together right after Tashi’s injury since she was in a vulnerable place. They got together years later on a date where Tashi was like a flustered 20ish year old that allows him to see some of her defenses down. Tashi also asks Art if he’s still in love with her (as she is now and not the fierce tennis player he once knew) because here’s the thing about Tashi, she says she doesn’t want to be loved but later asks him if he’s still in love with her cause she wants love not matter how hard she convinces herself she doesn’t — and Art is someone that can give her that feeling of this unconditional love. Someone pointed out Art is the person she has vulnerable scenes with and I believe he does bring that out of her even if she resists that to put on a stronger facade. As opposed to Patrick, that usually lights up her impulsive side. Art is more like the steady calm.

(Which is why Tashi and Patrick would’ve never worked in a relationship because they’re both too impulsive and he would’ve never allow her to control him and his career like she wanted).

I believe Tashi’s real true love is Tennis, but she does love Art. I think she’s full of bullshit saying she would leave Art if he stops playing because I think she would never leave him. She would’ve ages ago. Their relationship feels odd because we are only seeing their marriage falling apart because Art doesn’t want to play anymore and has lost its passion for it but makes you wonder how their marriage would normally be in all the good days where Art had a passion for Tennis.

And a lot of people be like “but she cheated on him with Patrick twice!” but she can love Art and still pursue the thrill Patrick provides. First, Tashi has never been implied to be a constant cheater, it’s just Patrick (in throuple we trust). This people are all morally questionable but a thing that is common about Tashi’s encounters with Patrick is that she’s always on a bad place. The first time in Atlanta was after she saw Anna (the girl she played with and won the same day she meet both Art and Patrick) is in the first place without a rival, a place that could’ve been hers if she was still playing — she sees Patrick being a loser (affectionate) and is low key resentful of Art because he’s being a successful tennis player so they bond over that, about the feeling of being a failure. And then later, Tashi is in another bad place because Art doesn’t want to play Tennis anymore and if he stops playing then her link to Tennis is also over. The game with Patrick is her last chance to make him love Tennis again. And when she sleeps with Patrick, she’s frustrated because she’s seeing how Art lost confidence in the game and so she goes there to ensure Art doesn’t lose. She tells Art she would leave him if he loses, but then goes to beg Patrick to ensure that doesn’t happen. And that sealed the deal for me. Yes, she could also be doing all that just because she doesn’t want to lose since she’s basically living through Art — but I think that’s a very one dimensional take because Patrick asked her in the original screenplay if Art winning would make her love him again, to which she responds she never stopped loving him. Because, even if he loses the game, she would love him. And one thing she has in common with Pat is their love for Art.

Like, Tashi resents Art because he is living the life she should be having as a professional tennis player, that’s what Patrick was referring to when he told her she hated Art, and while she hates being seem as just the wife and not the tennis player herself, she also hates the fact she would never truly leave him. Let Tashi have feelings, not everything is so one dimensional.

[yanderepuck]

THIS???? THIS RIGHT HERE?????

I'm writing this. Meet you down below you horny shits.

School is dismissed for the day but you stated after to get homework done. It's much easier to concentrate in the library than it is at home.

As you are walking through the aisles of books singing catches your eye. You reach out for a book on a higher shelf when you suddenly get your sides grabbed.

"Ahh!" you scream, jumping, and swatting at whoever is behind you. You turn and pout. "Charles!"

He has a big smile on his face. "Not too loud, princess," he teased you. He grabbed the book for you and handed it to you. "What are you staying after for? Shouldn't you be headed home?"

You take the book and hold it against your chest. "I stayed to work on my essay. It's quieter here. Why are you still here?"

"I have to study for a test but I really don't feel like it," he let out a sigh and steps closer to you. "Maybe you could help me."

"My grades might be good but they aren't that good," you start walking back to the table your stuff is at, Charles following behind you.

You sit down and open your laptop to start your paper. Charles sits right next to you as if he's going to watch you type this whole thing.

"What's the essay on?"

"Charles... we're in the same literature class."

"Oh right."

You sigh and start typing. He watches for a few minutes, saying nothing and also doing nothing. He really doesn't want to study for his test.

Finishing your first paragraph, you feel something against your shoulder. You turn your head and just see fluffy dusty pink hair.

Your cheeks start to heat up. "Charles. Shouldn't you be working on something."

"But I don't want to," he pouts.

You two share a few classes, but you aren't particularly close. Youve done a few group projects together but that's all. So why is he being so clingy to you?

During group projects he did tend to stay close to you, and when then you thought it was odd. It's not like he isn't a social person so she had no reason to act shy with others.

You look back at your laptop and try to relax. Your heart is most definitely racing. Charles is cute, he's funny, he's very kind, but it's also very flirty with everyone.

"I need to work," you hope it'll get him to back off. You really did need to get this done.

"Can't we just talk?"

"Talk about what?"

Charles sets his chin on your shoulder. You look at him again. But he's really close. Very close. Maybe too close for someone you are just classmates with.

"How cute you are?" He smiles while your face goes all red. You? Cute? Compared to him? No no no. If you held a baby kitten up to him you aren't sure if you could say who was cuter.

You can't get your lips to move to get him to stop. He puts an arm over your shoulder and you think you just felt his hand rest on your thigh.

"I keep catching myself staring at you in class. Maybe that's why I'm doing bad. Since you're the reason you should help me study."

His voice changed. At first it was all cute and bubbly, but now it's deepened and gotten softer so you're the only one who could possibly hear.

"Charles I don't think-" he cuts you off his voice sounding a bit more bubbly, he sounds curious.

"Do you think I'm cute?" His head tilts.

What kind of question is that? He's beautiful. Gorgeous. You could get lost in his eyes so easily. Everything about his looks is literally perfect.

But you hesitate. Mainly because you are confused. Your head and heart are going a thousand miles a minute.

Charles starts to frown when you don't answer, snapping you out of it.

"You're beautiful!" You say that a little louder than you meant to and cover your mouth. Do they really have to be doing this in the library. There's not many others there, but you aren't alone.

"Awe. Tell me more," his voice got softer again, going back to being flirty.

You bite your lip not knowing what to say. Do you have a crush on him? Maybe. But who wouldn't? How could you look at him and not have your heart flutter.

"Do you like me?" Could he read your thoughts? This has to be a prank. There's no way someone like him could like you. "Because I like you."

He gets closer. Close enough to kiss.

He what? No no. You had to have heard that wrong. "W-what?"

"I like you," his fingers brush a lock of hair behind your ear.

Could you be any redder? Any more anxious?

"Do you like me back?"

You are hoping no one is watching you. He is practically on your lap, his hands on you. Is he trying to make a move? You wouldn't be upset if he was.

You start by nodding your head "I-I do. I really like you," your voice is so low, a little raspy, almost scared to say it out loud in case someone hears and it turns out this is all fake.

Charles just smiles. He's not blushing at all but seems very happy. "Do you really?"

You guess you didn't sound too confident when saying it. "Yes. You're very kind to everyone and you're really attractive."

"Why don't we find an empty classroom so I can show you how much I like you," he purrs.

You freeze up again. He wasn't just saying all that to get you to go off with him was he? "I-I don't think that's a good idea."

"Aww, why not?" he starts to play with your hair again. "Don't tell me you would rather me kiss you in front of every one here. You're naughty," he chuckles.

You push your chair back to force space between the two of you. "I-I need to get my paper done," you try to say it as firmly as you can.

He starts to frown. Oh no. Why does he look so cute when he frowns? He's got cute puppy dog eyes. No! Don't let him try to convince you otherwise. You need to get this done.

"Fine... I'll leave you alone," he gets up from his seat and starts walking to the door to leave.

You watch him, not sure if you feel more guilty or more curious. You do in fact like him. He's beautiful, he's kind, he's so gentle. Maybe he really has been hiding his feelings about you like you have about him.

You look at your laptop and see the little bit that you've written and quickly shut it. You gather up your notebook and papers and shove them into your backpack and rush after him.

"Charles!" He was just walking into the hallway. You get next to him and immediately held his hand in yours. "I know the one math teacher never locks his door."

He smirks and pulls you along. "Let's go then!"

~~

You're sitting on top of a desk, Charles standing between your legs kissing you. He has one hand on your thigh and another massaging your boob. Your legs wrap around him to keep him there. You have one hand on his cheek and another on his waist.

Both of you moan as the kiss gets messier. His hand slides up further, squeezing your thigh and the other is trying to get your shirt open. Your hand slides up into his hair while your other reaches around to grab his ass.

The kiss hasn't been broken yet. You haven't had a chance to breathe. You don't want to think about what you're doing. There's no way you could say no to someone as beautiful as Charles. You wouldn't have given anyone else the time of day.

Charles gets your shirt open and yanks your bra down to get a firmer grip on your tit. You moan louder and grab his hair to keep his face close as you kissed harder. Both of your lips were going to be bruised after this.

He moves your skirt further up and presses himself against you. The harder his erection is pressing against you the wetter you get. Your hand on his ass moves to the front, palming him through his clothes.

The gasp he made nearly broke your kiss, good thing you're holding him there. The last thing you want is to come to the realization that this is a horrible idea.

The more you touch him the harder of a time he has keeping up. He whines and starts rubbing you between your underwear. Your body jerks and then you moan.

Letting his hair go, you use both hands to get his pants open, taking his cock out to rub.

Having your skin on his he breaks the kiss to whine.

"Ahh-hh," you both pant. You rub his tip and he follows with sliding two fingers into you

"I need you," he whines and starts to kiss your neck. Your moans hitch and he takes his fingers out of you. "I promise I won't get your uniform dirty."

You move closer to the edge and let go of his cock. He pulls your underwear to the side and slowly slides into you. You hold onto his shoulder, biting your lip as he stretches you.

He gives you a moment to adjust before he thrusts into you.

"Ahh!"

He starts kissing you again and holds your legs apart so he can get deeper. You grip his hair, tugging it, moaning into his mouth.

The more he moves the easier it gets for him. Your hole is stretching to the perfect size to fit him inside you.

The kissing gets rougher so that neither of your moans escape. People are still in the school so you can't be too loud.

It seems that the harder you tug his hair the harder he slams into you.

The desk under you is shaking. It would have been better to have you bend over but that would have meant the kissing would have had to stop.

He squeezes your thighs before moving them to grab your ass, slightly lifting you off the desk. You wrap a leg around him and feel him get deeper.

Now you don't know what's worse. How loud your moans are getting, or how loud your skin is hitting against each other. If anyone walks by they are going to hear.

Your nails dig into him as you are edging closer until you finally break the kiss to yell. "Charles!"

The feeling of you tightening gives him the push he needed to speed up to get himself close.

He pulls out just in time, leaving a thick stream of cum on your thigh. Both of you pant heavily, pressing your foreheads against each other. He makes sure to keep your skirt pulled up so it doesn't get dirty.

After a few moments he stands up straight.

"Hold your skirt," once you take it he fixes his pants and goes to the other side of the room to grab some paper towels.

He comes back and wipes your leg clean, making sure to get it all. As he does you fix your shirt. He helps you down from the desk and makes sure you're okay to stand before going to the trash and burying the paper towels at the bottom.

You fix your skirt, making sure it's laying flat, then run your fingers through your hair. Charles messes with his hair when he comes back over to you, kissing you again. You straighten his shirt and make sure everything on him looks fine.

"Now I really won't be able to concentrate in class," he purrs.

"You better! I'm not going to help you with studying," you huff and grab your backpack. Guess you're going to have to write your essay at home after all.

~~

Tag list~

@kissmetwicekissmedeadly @fang-and-feather @xalxtusxiao @namine-somebodies-nobody @ana-thedaydreamer @evil-quartett @ameyoruakiikemenseries @yrenesposts @tele86 @damekathearasi @lokis-laugh @candied-boys @breadmercury @aquagirl1978 @xenokiryu @nightghoul381 @vampiricpancake @lulu-the-smol-floof @tako-cafe @floydsteeth

[castlebyersafterdark]

ok so this is a question that i wish was discussed more in other spicy spaces without getting either too careful or too obviously an expression of people's unrealistic fantasies. what do you think attracts will to mike, both in terms of emotional and physical attraction?

there's lots of discussion about mike's attraction to will because that's thought to be what we need more of in the show, and people are happy to talk about will's physical attributes like his ass. but when will's attraction to mike is discussed, its always in the context of emotion and love and friendship becoming romantic, but never physical. there's not much in the way of will's fantasies or him being allowed to have a purely physical aspect to his love for mike, which is so sad to me because it reflects the thematic castration of will in the show (@therainscene did a great post on this about the lack of posters and sexuality in will's room etc).

i personally think the dnd alter egos give lots of hints about why will is emotionally attracted to mike, but at the same time, physicality and presence is a huge part of medieval/roleplay, so Will MUST have thought about mike's physicality in his fantasies, surely?

i wonder if there's not a lot of spec on this because people find there to be a dissonance between finn/mike's body and what they think mike's character represents in the show to a negative degree? whereas for will, even though his muscle development isnt **exactly** in line with will's character, society considers muscles to be a good thing so the change doesnt upset anyone. (not to say muscular men can't be sensitive, but the duffers probably would have chosen him to remain more delicate if they had a choice)

i personally think that mike's awkwardness due to finn's physicality has always been present and a big part of what makes the show so endearing, esp in s1. its only because there's an expectation for blockbuster scale epic fight scenes now, big music, big action, that people start to think mike needs to be this Baddie. I like the idea of him having a moment, but i dont need him to be wielding a sword like a badass and Looking Cool 24/7. Mike isnt traditionally cool, i need him to stay that a nerd lol.

maybe this is also why i think there would be something so powerful about a byler sex scene, because the more awkward/realistic/nerdier the better? it doesnt need to be traditionally sexy, but it WOULD be sexy just because of the fact that it would be mike and will and them getting together is intrinsically sexy.

i hope this makes sense lol sorry for the essay

EXCELLENT TOPIC! So many good points. You're absolutely correct about all of this - there is a definite line it seems, with more focus given to how Mike views Will, versus what made Will develop feelings and attraction to Mike, beyond the "we're best friends and I want you in my life forever"-ness of it all. I love talking about what Mike loves about Will, but let's hype up the other side of this coin.

This may sound so odd, but I genuinely think sometimes it's forgotten in general spaces that Will is gay? And what that actually means. Like he's a gay guy. Who is attracted to men and ultimately wants to be intimate with men (even if in present time, this want is being internally and externally denied). And Mike is a man (big juicy can of worms re: the gnc debate, save that for another essay, but I think my stance is visible between the lines here) and Will wants him. We all saw how Will looked at Mike in the desert. Dirty, white t-shirt probably transparent in spots from sweat, heaving breath as he did all the work shoveling for his boy bestie. Will doesn't have to lift a finger. Will gets to pretend to move several grains of sand around. Will looks at Mike with lust in his eyes. That is the boy he's grown up with and had been crushing on as a kid, that's the guy he's fallen in love with. And Mike has grown up. Still awkward, but developing into someone that Will not only wants to spend forever with, but wants intimately.

I like to imagine them as kids, maybe around the age they are introduced to us as in s1. What are they, 12? It's been awhile, but I remember being 12. I remember my first crushes, and they happened even earlier. Will has several male friends - each with their own appealing attributes. I think any of the party could be cute to a young, sexually confused nerd. But Will crushes on Mike. His first friend, the face he can imagine perfectly when he closes his eyes, able to draw him from memory because our boy is an artist. Little Will, drawing in sketchbooks from the early years. Why is it so important that he gets the shape of Mike's lips just right? Why are his eyes the best eyes he's ever drawn? Why does he spend so long perfecting a technique to capture the dark swoops of his best friend's hair? He's caught himself staring too long at Mike's mouth on occasion. He's caught himself suppressing a shudder when Mike's arm is so casually thrown around him, holding him close. He smells like a boy. He likes that a lot more than whatever girls douse themselves with. Uh oh.

Mike is not conventionally attractive. Neither is FW, either. Not to say he's bad looking (I find him very very attractive), but honestly - he's different. He's not like the cookie cutter Ken, the action figure, the Hollywood poster boy. He's got unique features and is awkward in his own skin. I don't think girls (and closeted guys) at Mike's school are falling at his feet. "I'm not exactly Mr. Popular." But they still look. As opposed to Jason, the All-American Juxtaposition. Jason - classically and cliche-handsome, the prototype boyfriend for the prototype cheerleader. If Will was at Hawkins High that year, I'm sure he'd give Jason a passing glance. He's an attractive man. Will's heart can belong to one and his eyes can appreciate attractive people in his vicinity. But Mike. Mike. Slightly taller, his protective personality bleeding into his physicality. I can see Will being into the protectiveness as a physical manifestation. Mike can maneuver him, can probably hug him tight and lift him up. He's not some action hero, or a muscled heartthrob but he's not as pathetic as fanon so pretends. I don't think he's gonna be an over powered badass by any means, but he can wield a sword and try and even if he's not that great at it. He's not hesitant. And clearly Will knows this. He painted it. He's into it. Mike, able to lead them into battle. Mike, awkward but endearing and strong. Mike with his big hands and lean muscles and that mouth that Will's eyes are drawn to like magnets and he hopes he's not as guiltily obvious as he feels when he watches his best friend orbit around him.

He may hide his attraction to men, with no posters of them on his walls. Diverting his eyes when he notices an attractive man in public. But he has music and cinema. Albums and magazines and movies. Mike looks more like the men in his favorite bands than the men playing professional sports. Bowie is so much cooler. He's odd, he's different. He's hot. Will likes the unconventional and he likes the familiar things that make him feel good and safe. Mike makes him feel safe. Oh, how he wants Mike to make him feel good.

Will had a crush on his best friend, when he first started being plagued with the realization that boys were cute. Will fell in love and when he re-met his best friend in the airport - his friend has grown up hot. He's pissed off and heartbroken that they haven't reached out to each other more, but he can't keep his eyes off Mike. He's dreamed about him and sketched him from memory so many times before Spring Break - but in the flesh? Everything and more. Will wants him.

[tgmsunmontue]

Online & Anonymous 8/16

Hangster. Explicit. Years before they meet in person Bradley and Jake strike up a friends-with-benefits relationship online. And then something more like an actual relationship.

Odd year = Bradley's POV and Even year = Jake's POV

>>Bradley chatting (bold and italics)

>>Jake chatting (italics)

2005/2006 2007 2008 2009 2010 2011 2012

2013 – Bradley

                When he gets the invitation to Top Gun he almost vibrates out of his seat in excitement. He keeps telling himself it’s excitement and not terror. He’s already going to be turning thirty this year, and while he might be a bit older than some of the other attendees he knows he’s unlikely to be the oldest. However he is older than his father was when he attended. He’s already older than his father was when he died and the idea that his father was married and had had a kid is mind boggling to him, because he doesn’t feel anywhere old enough to have either of those responsibilities, even if he’s coming around to the first one whenever he thinks about a potential future with Jas.

>>I got invited to a thing. An elite training thing. It’s sort of a big deal.

>>I’ll probably be busier than usual.

>>Like what?

>>Wait. Rangers? Delta Force? Pararescue?

>>Yeah. Something like that.

>>Fine. Keep your secrets.

>>You’re the one that said you want to keep some stuff for when we meet.

>>Can I change my mind?

>>Ask me again in 24 hours.

>>You’re pretty impulsive.

>>You like me being impulsive.

>>That’s true. I do.

>>Don’t want you to regret it though.

>>End of May isn’t that far away.

>>Assuming nothing happens again.

>>Yeah well. Fingers crossed.

>>Thinking about finally meeting you is the only gets me through some of my worst days.

>>No pressure.

                Bradley squeezes his lips between his teeth, wonders if he should apologize.

>>There is no pressure. I’m just… being honest with you.

>>I’ve had to lie about do much for so long, that even now it’s…

>>Well. I’ll never lie to you. Even if I think it’ll scare you.

>>This is where I get to be myself.

>>But you don’t need to worry about me not liking you.

>>I already love you.

>>Okay.

>>Well.

>>In the interests of being honest, do you want to know a secret?

>>Of course.

>>I’m scared of meeting you.

>>Why?

>>What if you’re not as perfect in person as you are through my phone?

>>Well, I’m not perfect.

>>At all.

>>Do you want me to share some of my gross habits with you?

>>I can do that if you think it would help.

>>Yeah. Go on.

>>Well, a recent one which drives my roommate absolutely batshit crazy, is I leave my moustache hair clippings all over the sink.

>>You have a moustache?

>>Yep. A new one. That long leave period I had last year when we were meant to meet up the second time? I started growing it.

>>Keeps my upper lip warm.

>>Do you look good?

>>I look like my dad.

>>Makes me feel closer to him.

>>I broke down and cried when I caught my reflection because I thought it was him.

>>I think mine is better, but I just wish he was here to joke with me about it.

>>Teach me how to take care of it.

>>All I’ve had are YouTube tutorials and it’s not quite the same.

>>If you’re watching online tutorials it definitely looks good.

>>Vain motherfucker.

                Bradley laughs but doesn’t bother disputing the fact, he likes to look good, and taking pride in his appearance is something that is necessary because it reflects on the Navy. He can’t say that specifically though.

>>What about you? Annoying habit?

>>I leave empty bottles and cups everywhere.

>>Not in the mess hall obviously, but everywhere else.

>>My friends despair of me.

>>I try and remember when I’m elsewhere, but I just keep forgetting.

>>Awful Southern manners.

…            …            …

                His seventeen-week stint at the Navy Fighter Weapons School begins and he doesn’t think he’s ever worked so hard in his life. He studies every waking moment, spends time with the ground crew asking questions about particular aspects of their jobs and their experiences, uses them to piece together a better understanding of the planes, although he’s already got an excellent understanding of most things, his obsession and upbringing in his youth meaning he’s knowledgeable about odd things, which sometimes get a raised eyebrow from one or two of the instructors. He does his best to ignore them.

                He and Jas have discovered SnapChat and started using that, not for conversations, just for staying connected and sending tiny little snippets of their day to each other, letting him know he’s thinking of him. Shots of morning coffee, books where he carefully covers the titles when it’s related to flying, the sky when it’s particularly pretty, his empty bed with the simple caption wish you were here.

                The seventeen weeks come to an end, he comes out on the top and he feels so much. He survived for a start, which is something he can admit now that he was worried about. God, he wants to ring Mav and Ice, and not just to brag, but to hear them be happy for him, although a part of him accepts he definitely wants to rub Pete’s face in it, that he is good enough. Of course it throws everything else into sharp relief and he wishes more than anything he could talk to his dad. He’s sitting in the lounge, just staring at the photos of previous Top Gun classes and 1986 is right there, an image that conjures so many mixed emotions.

                “Lieutenant Bradshaw. Thought you’d be out celebrating the win.”

                “Sir.”

                “Seriously. I’m surprised to see you here and not with the others.”

                “I will celebrate. Just. Having some mixed emotions sir,” he admits.

                “You don’t think you earnt the win?”

                Bradley blinks, because he’s not sure there’s a way to answer that question the right way, without sounding like he’s

                “I think it was an honor to be invited here and challenged by fellow aviators who are excellent in every respect. I worked hard and flew well. Just. Did you know my father died at Top Gun? During a hop?”

                “Bradshaw. I did wonder. Thought it was in bad taste to ask.”

                “No-one asked, but I suspect some are aware. No-one brought it up, sir.”

                “No, they’d probably take your lead on that. Well, I’ll leave you to it Lieutenant. Have a good evening.”

                “Thank you sir.”

…            …            …

>>How did you go?

>>Well, I didn’t wash out and I completed it.

>>That’s a pretty low bar.

>>Didn’t wash out? Pretty sure you smashed it.

>>I love your faith in me.

>>I love you.

>>Of course I have faith in you.

>>What I don’t have faith in is the universe and its apparent desire to fuck us over.

>>I’ve been invited to my own elite training thing.

>>Like, I can’t turn it down, it’s pretty much an order to go. And it’s an honor to be selected, but the timing could not be fucking worse.

>>I’m so sorry.

                Bradley is so disappointed he’s close to tears, but he also knows that when these type of opportunities are offered to you, you cannot turn them down. Ever. Not directly. Except he sort of just did, and his mind is

>>I understand. I totally understand.

>>Doesn’t stop me being disappointed though.

>>I was really looking forward to finally meeting you.

>>You and me both. Waited this long though right?

>>I am getting really sick of us having to say that.

>>I’m starting to get very sick of waiting.

>>I feel like we’ve waited long enough.

>>But I was offered something, I might see if I can backtrack my decline.

>>Shit. Did you turn something down because of me?

>>Well, I asked if I could think about it for a day or two. I was intending to turn them down, but I think I’ll accept it now.

>>Not if I don’t have meeting you in May to look forward to.

>>Nick. I don’t want you turning down things which could help your career just to meet with me.

>>I’m not going anywhere.

>>This goes both ways. I don’t want you turning things down either.

>>I’m sorry – did you just miss the bit where I said I can’t meet up because I’m taking up a training opportunity?

>>Yeah, but you thought about turning it down.

>>Next time don’t think about it, just accept.

>>I’ll always understand your desire to put your career first.

>>What about when I don’t want to anymore?

>>Also this applies to actual guys you sleep with and could have a relationship with.

>>Don’t you dare use me as an excuse to not pursue something if you think it’d be worth it.

>>Then the same applies for you.

>>Fine. Although the guys I’ve been sleeping with have yet to impress me with anything worth writing home about. Or well…

>>Sharing with you. My fantasies are definitely far more interesting.

>>Still think it’s your useless superpower, ability to hook-up with the worst possible guys and just have bad sex.

>>It’s okay. We’ll practice plenty in person when we meet.

…            …            …

                The offer to stay on as an instructor is there, and he’d said he’d think about it. However he really doesn’t want to stop flying, but he also doesn’t feel like he has the necessary skills to train other aviators yet, which is why he’s seriously considering staying to learn from the Top Gun instructors. When he raises his concerns about wanting to keep up his flying while also wanting to build up his experience with teaching and training to a set syllabus he gets a considered look for his troubles.

                “You’re not very much like your father or godfather are you Lieutenant.”

                “Excuse me sir?”

                “I know who you are Lieutenant. I flew with both your father, and Maverick. You remind my far more of Iceman. Cool and collected, little bit detached from emotion when you’re flying.”

                “Sir,” Bradley states, because he’s not sure if he’s asking a question or not. Whether it’s simply an observation or a compliment.

                “I’ll see what we can figure out.”

                The experienced tutors seem to take his interest in training with enthusiasm, recommending readings and setting homework. He learns that some of them have gone on to do Masters degrees in learning or development. He hadn’t expected quite a thorough background as he’s getting, but it’s good. He’s permitted to take flights early in the morning as long as he clears his flight plans with his commanding officer and also has at least three others awake and at least one willing to act as ground crew. He makes decent deals with several of the instructors, some who just prefer being on base that early to prepare for the day and doing it while he flies around is acceptable to them, especially when he agrees to try out any particular maneuvers and tactics in different planes. He loves it and it’s his routine for three weeks before the next Top Gun intake arrive. He shaves off his moustache and then regrets it almost immediately, but he can grow it back the next time he has a decent amount of leave to go unshaved.

…            …            …

                There are twelve naval aviators and Bradley has read all their files. He’s flown with a few of them before, one of them being Bambi and another Coyote. Then he knows Slipper, Knocks, Frank and Truffle. It leaves the other six as unknowns, although he does recognize the names. He has to admit it’s almost more intimidating than going through Top Gun himself, being expected to command the attention of other aviators for lessons, people known for challenging the status quo. The fact that he already knows half of them actually makes it worse, because he knows they won’t hold back. Not that he expects any of them to hold back, but he’s read their files and they’re all good and more than deserve to be here.

                It’s a little awkward, he’s not sure whether he is meant to be hanging out with the instructors, or whether he’s somehow part of this Top Gun class as well. So he finds a weird middle ground, friendly and professional with the instructors, happy to act for them, following their instructions and carrying out flight moves as an example or acting the part of bogey for tactical training. He is even more professional with the Top Gun class, slightly cooler but still friendly enough that he doesn’t think it pisses any of them off, although Bambi does roll her eyes at him more than once and Coyote gives him a quirked eyebrow.

                He and Jas continue to exchange snaps every day, although they both poke fun at the seemingly endless monotony of their current day-to-day lives. Bradley’s same mug of coffee everyday wishing him good morning, and it hasn’t escaped his notice that Jas seems to be in his time zone for the first time ever. Or at least for the first time since he really started paying attention and using Snapchat. They haven’t made any long-term plans to meet-up, not until next year and that’s too far away for Bradley to even know where in the world he’ll be let alone what weeks of the year he will have free which makes him feel a little more irritated than usual.

                “So, your score is the score I have to beat huh?” Jake Seresin says, and Bradley can’t help the immediate spike of annoyance at the words. He shouldn’t, because they’re Navy, competition between them all is something that is drilled into them from the beginning. More so for the USNA, but Bradley’s been around Naval Aviators his entire life and knows how they are, for the most part. Bunch of egotistical adrenaline junkies. Himself included, although he likes to try and temper his own ego by being as friendly and hopefully genuinely likeable as possible. Of course, being professional and maintaining some sense of distance can be difficult when he just wants to roll his eyes and tell the guy to grow up.

                “Just concentrate on your own flying and don’t worry about beating me.”

                They’re all good pilots. Of course they are. But Jake Seresin just seems to take the cast of egotistical and break the mold. He’s just so full of himself and the most annoying part of it is that it’s completely justified. He is that good, but he also gives off waves that he doesn’t feel like he has anything left to learn and Bradley knows he can’t be the only one feeling a little frustrated with his attitude sometimes. He asks the other instructors, in a round-about way, and he gets amused looks and told that he’ll learn to manage that with experience.

                Then there is how Seresin looks. He’s very nice to look at, Bradley isn’t going to lie to himself about it, and he wouldn’t kick him out of bed, however he’d have to like his personality enough first to invite him there, and that isn’t happening anytime soon. Definitely not while they’re at Top Gun, even if he thinks he could ask and get accepted, he doesn’t want to get a reputation for sleeping with students, that would be disastrous. It doesn’t stop him jerking off and thinking about Jake Seresin’s lips around his cock and he sends a couple of pictures to Jas during and after, telling him he misses him.

…            …            …

                Seventeen weeks feels like the blink of an eye and also, somehow, the longest drawn-out torture ever. He’s glad he has flying everyday, because somedays it’s the only thing that keeps him sane. Seresin seems to ask endless questions, some just bordering on disrespectful and he knows the other instructors find his frustration amusing, because he catches their poorly hidden smiles when he privately expresses his frustration to them, so he starts ignoring it as best he can.

                He doesn’t think he enjoys training and teaching enough to want to make this his career, not if every class is going to have people like Jake Seresin in it. He can’t bring himself to whine about it to Jas, not when he knows he’s so busy with his own specialty training, so he does the next best thing and rings Natasha, exchanging pleasantries before just launching into the complaining when she asks how the training aspects are going.

                “I just can’t seem to teach him anything! He just rubs me the wrong way.”

                “Well, you definitely want to be rubbing something…”

                “Jesus Natasha!”

                “What? It’s not going to get you kicked out or anything anymore…”

                “I’m not going to sleep with him!”

                “Would you? If that were an option? Is he hot?”

                “I don’t know. Have you met Jake Seresin?”

                “Oh. Definitely hot. He’s also Javy’s best friend.”

                “Javy huh?” Bradley asks, wanting to steer their conversation away from his inconvenient attraction to the most annoying person he’s ever met.

                “Shut up. At least I know what the guy I’m interested in looks like…”

                “Yeah yeah, whatever. I had noticed they were pretty tight.”

                “Yeah. Tight as brothers. Academy and flight school buddies. Hopefully Javy’s actual brothers are nicer.”

                “Well, they aren’t currently here driving me fucking insane, so that’s already a point in their favor.”

                “How is Javy doing?”

                “He’s good. Everyone here is good. You should be here.”

                “I’ll get my turn.”

                “Yeah you will.”

…            …            …

                “You know, the other instructors, they call you a rooster, because you get up so early so you can get up and fly before class.”

                Bradley grunts, because if he ignores him, maybe he’ll go away. He knows the other instructors call him that, and he doesn’t mind it, because there are far worse nicknames he could have landed himself with. This one has been an almost affectionate one, given to him with a ruffle to his hair and a wink.

                “I wanted to see if you’d be interested in getting a drink.”

                “With you?”

                “Yes.”

                “No, that wouldn’t be appropriate.”

                “We’re the same rank,” Seresin states, but Bradley is shaking his head.

                “I’m still an instructor.”

                Seresin’s lip curls, and it’s not in a nice way, but he’s stepping back, hands out in a no harm no foul gesture and Bradley hates that he looks good even when he’s looking pissed off.

                “Your loss.”

                “I think I’ll live.”

…            …            …

                When the seventeen weeks come to an end, he finally allows himself to socialize with Bambi, taking her out for dinner as an apology for being so formal and professional for the last four months. Allows, for a given definition of allow, for her to sweep the floor with him at both darts and pool. Then he takes her back to his place where they make a video call to Natasha and have a proper catch-up. Of course the first thing Natasha asks is if he’s slept with Seresin yet which has Bambi cackling and telling her all about the times Seresin seemed to be an ass solely to try and get Bradley’s attention.

…            …            …

>>You ever wonder what would happen if you did something different?

>>Only every fucking day.

[moonah-rose]

73 Yards is a good concept but I think I know the reason it's not gonna stick with me like similar episodes

Spoilers under cut

I called it from the trailer that the old woman would be an older Ruby. The framing alone reminded me of when Amy and Rory see their older selves waving from far away in S5. So knowing that was coming I was hoping the pay off would give me a little bit more to surprise me.

It just didn't. Older Ruby stopped Younger Ruby from doing the thing and the timeliness got fixed. And outside of an odd sense of de ja vue, she nor anyone else remembers what happened.

This a trope I really dislike in time travel stories like this because my feeling is, if the characters aren't going to remember it, why should the audience? It's kinda like the "and it was all a dream" twist. Except even that I don't get as bothered by if the person has grown or changed from having the dream, for example "there's no place like home".

Now compare this to similar episodes where Doctor Who has done stories involving timeliness crossing etc - Blink, the Girl Who Waited and Turn Left. Those all ended with a happy resolution but there were consequences that weren't fully undone. Blink has a ton of people's lives screwed up and 'killed' off screen. The Girl Who Waited manages to save Amy before she can become like old Amy but at the cost of old Amy sacrificing herself and the trauma she went through, and the effect that has on the Doctor and Rory who have to carry on knowing what happened. Turn Left has Donna stopping herself making the wrong choice and resetting things but it's implied that an actual parallel world was created from Donna's first choice that still existed and also she keeps some memories from that world, which also carry on into the series finale. I'll also mention Heaven Sent because there you have the Doctor going through this massive trauma for billions of years but it keeps getting reset and he only remembers a little bit each time. Except even then he is partly aware there are other versions of him before and after who are continuing this struggle and he has to carry that with him into Hell Bent.

73 Yards could end up linking into more stories later on but as it stands, that journey that Ruby went on all those years and what she had to go through is essentially erased. Maybe there will be a lingering sensation for her like a bad dream but I suspect Russel is going to want this to be his new Midnight and not answer any questions ever. Which is fine, I love that about Midnight. But while we didn't get answers about Midnight, we still had the Doctor having to remember what happened and being scarred from it. In 73 Yards we get neither answers nor consequences so it just leaves me shrugging my shoulders, like okay that was a thing.

Was beautifully shot though and the first part where Ruby is just in Wales was really chilling, it's when they took the story back to London it lost me.

[apollos-olives]

before october 7th this blog was a meme page btw.

[monster-noises]

I want! I want to be able to tell people i make art wnd write comics and have something to Point Too y'know?

Like sure i have art but it's not like... Art (not in a self-degrading way, just in a way that says a majority of what i've made is very casual and disparit, and lacks a cohesion of intent I see from many of the artists I admire)

And there's an embarrassment that comes with telling people 'oh yeah i'm an illustrator and I'm writing comics when i'm not at work' and then being able to show... Nothing of serious import.

(again not to degrade my work, I like what i draw otherwise i wouldn't habe drawn it. It's just most of it does not necessarily satisfy the set up of "I Illustrate and Write Comics")

[whippetcrimes]

I have think there's something wrong with me.

I have one singular dog. Since I've gotten Misty, I've purchased 8 collars, 2 leashes, and 1 slip leash. In addition to these, I already had 3 leashes, Misty came home with a collar, and a puppy sized martingale slip leash.

Why am I about to buy yet another leash????

[thenightisland]

I have a question: why is your header the Las Vegas sign??????

[bidisaster-peanut-romano]

absolutely LOSING IT at how personally offended peanut is that he wasn't invited at a preps party

[adanseydivorce]

which tda book is your favorite?

Lord of Shadows slightly edges out Lady Midnight although they’re really close since I love both so much… but LoS has the overall most impactful arcs and storylines to me the section in the Unseelie Court is probably my favorite part of the series, and the ending packs a big emotional punch to say the least. It might be my favorite tsc book period actually I really love LoS. Also like I just said in the previous ask I tend to be a middle book(s) or middle seasons girlie it’s just who I am. I think this book struck a neat balance between being character driven and plot driven that was extremely effective although to be clear it would probably also be my favorite if it was just character centric filler angst about Emma&Jules because that’s who I am… but I’m still glad it was more than that! LM is also wonderful in a way that few first books in fantasy series are to me usually there’s a slow burn for me to be really invested but not here, and the whole murder cult mystery with body horror (had forgotten about the missing hands that made it even better) + forbidden romance + familial dynamics themes combo and vibe really works for me. Qoaad is my least favorite of the three but I still really like it, and I definitely thought far better of it on reread compared to when I first read it since back then I had been anticipating it so hard and theorizing etc. and had very sky high expectations (especially with Clockwork Princess being a rare perfect finale to me and with how much I loved the first two tda books I hoped for Qoaad to accomplish the same thing..) on reread I could evaluate it more for what it is and I came to the conclusion that about 80% of the actual content of the book I am a fan of, it’s just that the pacing of the book is insane. Genuinely if that book was split into two books and they were paced normally I’d have loved them as much as the first two I think! Genuinely I think cc has gotten too attached to trilogies as the sole structure for her work and it’s a big part of why the receptions for her last two finales have been what they are … (well I’m sure there are multiple factors at play but I’m confident that’s one of them) also maybe even effected tmi part 2 because I remember cofa being pretty filler and the plot there feeling like it could be resolved in a duology? I love almost every individual storyline in that book so if you asked me which ones I would snipe for the third book to be paced correctly I’d be hard pressed to get rid of things but if you split it into two books and grounded them each tonally to feel distinct and just gave us some breathing room I think you could stick the landing! But since I like almost every individual element of the book it’s an enjoyable reread when you already know where the story ends up and the best parts of it really work for me / get a level of emotionality from me no tlh or tmi book does so it still ranks high (like #6ish since I like all the tid books more as well as first two tda) for me, I slander her but she’s my bestie <3.

[violexides]

explaining the relationship i have with my father is so complicated and i keep finding myself facing that question when i'm in college bc like. a professor of mine in office hours literally asked me abt my family and i was like. well i can explain. Parts Of This. but it's mega fucking complicated

[jvzebel-x]

🦋

[marshmellowtea]

"6: Age you get mistaken for", "9: Got any piercings?", and/or "21: What I love most about myself"? :3

waugh thank you!! <3

6: Age you get mistaken for

so many people think i'm like. a teenager? like i always hear fifteen or sixteen, it's always so funny to see the look of shock on their faces when i tell them i'm 22, haha. in their defense, though, i've had basically the same face since i was a kid, literally if you look at a picture of me as a toddler versus a picture of me now very little has changed so XD

9: Got any piercings?

unfortunately no but GOD do i want them!! my sibling has offered to pierce my ears if i buy a piercing kit off of amazon, which, listen, i understand that's risky, but he's given himself piercings before, so as long as i do all the aftercare i trust him to not give me an infection lmao. i also have some that i want that should probably be done by a professional but that's not what the question is asking so i'll stop there i guess hgldskjflk

21: What I love most about myself

agh, the trick of self love again! this may seem a little superficial but i genuinely love the way i have interest in/am willing to dabble in things that are so, like.....varied? idk, i know it's not super unique ghaldkfj, but looking at my past and current hyperfixations, a lot of them are pretty different from each other, and i think that's kinda neat? it's not just that either--my playlists are comprised of, well, mostly indie lol, but there's a mishmash of other genres too, sometimes ones that feel like they probably shouldn't go together but that i love and wanna share with the world equally anyway, creatively i've had at least a passing interest in wanting to try my hand in creating a lot of different art forms (book writing, webcomics, game design, tv shows....), and hell, my blog is a messy collage of things i like and interest me no matter how much they clash, and i. i don't know, i think that's kinda neat! i think i'm cool for it! or at least i'd like to think so ghldksfjk idk y'all can be the judge of that i guess. i just think it's fun :')