#doesn’t even seem engaged when I try to talk about it if they aren’t gonna watch this is so sad Alexa play No serenity

[no1ryomafan]

I’m saying this only out a vague of a irl even though I feel bad for this but someone please tell me there isn’t a collective of people who haven’t seen a lot of mecha yet played super robot wars and act like because they played that game they have authority to talk over mecha shows they know exist thanks to it despite still not watching them and ignoring the fact SRW butchers plot sometimes-

Because as much as I hate gatekeeping in mecha circles and hardly dabbled into SRW this basically happened to me irl with a person I already don’t like and I’m just like:

[jamneuromain]

Wishful Thinking Chpt. 4

Andy Barber x You (Reader), no use of Y/N

Alternate Universe - College AU

Summary: A new semester. A new task. A new boyfriend, your previous professor, Andy Barber. Everything seems to be going on the right track. So why didn't it?

Warning: Fluff, inappropriate teacher-student relationship, power imbalance, age difference, explicit language, Possessive!Andy Barber

A/N: This fic has some disturbing themes, and discusses potentially upsetting topics. Please read through the warning before engaging with the fic. As I have said, the fic has mentioned a number of (potentially) triggering and heavy topics, you don't have to engage further if you feel uncomfortable about one or more topics.

Wishful Thinking M. List Dancing in the Daydream M. List

His phone vibrates in his pocket as you snuggle in his warmth for a moment longer. He doesn’t take it, instead, he puts his hand in his pocket to disengage the call.

“Aren’t you gonna get that?” You ask.

If you are being truly honest, you don’t want him to pick up the phone either.

That would mean you are not disturbed by real life. You are just you. And Andy is only Andy. That you can keep him. Till all eternity.

The annoying phone buzzes again.

“I think you should really get that.” You tuck a trail of loose hair behind your ear because of the wind, and slowly let him go. But you shiver as you lose his warmth, hugging your arms tight.

Andy shoved his hoodie off, wrapping you in his forest green hoodie, zipping it all the way to the top.

You dangle the sleeves which are too long for your arm, looking like a bird gaining extra feathers.

“Talk to me, okay? Text, call, leave me a voicemail,” Andy chuckles, placing a kiss on your hairline, “whatever you feel comfortable with. Just … lemme know what’s going on in that little head of yours.”

You nod. You are not going to keep him to yourself for the moment. You are not stupid to keep him from his real life, even if you want to. You meet his clear blue eyes, and the tender smile you put on your face has him reciprocate your smile.

“Call me, ‘kay?” He cradled your jaw, his thumb grazing your cheekbone, “call me, if you need anything, or you want to talk, or you have questions with that book.”

Oh yes, that book.

The book he brought out of the car and handed to you as a “make-up” gift, that has specific details regarding “things you should be aware of when being a sub”, at least, that’s what Andy told you.

His brows furrow as his phone buzzes again, checking his phone briefly, “I’ve been summoned, heading to the Simon House for the faculty meeting.” He kisses your lips again, briefly, “sorry I couldn’t stay. But call me, okay?” Andy opens the car door, but has no intention of getting in and driving. He holds the car door, waiting for your reply.

Your face starts burning. The apologies, the gift, the hoodie, drag you back to him. You feel loved, you feel owned. You try to cover your burning face with your palms, only meeting the smooth fabric of his hoodie sleeves. Feels like Andy putting his arms around you. Feels like him hugging you all the time.

“Really like my hoodie huh?” Andy smirks, his blue eyes glinting. You know this is teasing you for not giving him an answer. Yet you really like his hoodie, making you more embarrassed to talk.

“You look good in my outfit.” He squeezes your hand with the sleeve in the middle, commenting, “even better when you’re blushing.”

“Oh shush you - ”

“Oh well, gotta go.” He gets in the car, rolling down the window, a smug look on his face. He knows better than to push you further or to tease you about it, “and I’ll be coming back for the hoodie.”

You twirl the sleeves together, pouting slightly, “I thought this was one of the gifts.” You know it’s not, but what hurt does it make, keeping a hoodie?

He flashes his pearl white teeth at you, a sharkish grin, “you can wear all the clothes in my wardrobe, sweetheart, as long as I can undress you first.”

“ANDY!” You whisper-yell, the blush on your face creeping towards your ears.

“Alright, shutting up.” He makes a funny gesture, pretending to zip his lips shut, and continues to put a lock around the zip, before throwing the imaginary key out of the window.

And he starts to hum noises, as if trying to talk to you with his mouth closed.

“Stop it.” You are amused. You’ve never seen Andy like this. He’s supposed to be the calm and collected person in your relationship. The older one. The responsible one. The mature one.

Andy is behaving so immaturely, you’re starting to doubt yourself whether you’re with the real Andy or if this one is a fake.

“See ya, Andy. You really need to go before you get there late.” You step back, holding the bag carrying the book, waving him goodbye.

“See you later, sweets.” He waves too, starting the engine and driving out of this block.

You clutch the bag in your hand.

The bag that contained that book.

You have been reading the book ever since you have returned to your room, you are left with plenty of time to think, read, and think some more.

And do your own research.

Which brings you some relief.

It explains that every dom/sub relationship is different, that it would be a healthy relationship if both parties have given consent, that it is important that the sub understand that they are the ones who have control in this relationship.

While your own digging suggests that possessiveness is linked with childhood trauma? Which obviously Andy is no short of.

The possessiveness.

Not the childhood trauma part.

Though you are not entirely sure.

You know so little about him. Two, nearly three months of dating only allowed you to catch a glimpse of what he likes and what he doesn’t.

You know he likes his woody cologne; he’d spray it on his collar rather than on his skin. You know he likes to have a cheat meal every once in a while, to reward his efforts in the swimming pool. You know he likes to drive with windows open. And you know he hates when things get out of hand.

But you know nothing about his childhood, his friends or his family (which is sort of reasonable, since your relationship at the beginning), or his hopes and dreams.

You know the little details that surrounded him, but you have no idea about what makes him… him.

You put the book carefully on your nightstand, hugging your fluffy pillow, burying your face in his hoodie and taking a deep breath.

You’re missing him.

How is it possible that you are missing him already? When it only has been mere minutes since he left?

It makes you anxious.

More so when you read upon “relationships that come with age gaps should be carefully treated”, having you throwing away your laptop on your bed, as if not reading it could undo the fact that a big black exclamation mark just bombarded your brain when you realize, much to your panicking, that between Andy and you lies a huge age gap.

Further searching makes you worry more.

That “older man couldn’t attract women his age so he’d choose a younger woman” “younger women are more gullible” and “there’s nothing in common between the two, apart from sex”.

Is it though?

That your relationship is only about sex?

You toss the pillow onto your bed in frustration.

If only you can have a book of destiny that writes everything about every decision you have ever made and lists out the consequences.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a sharp “ping” from your computer, which shows a new email has been sent to your address.

“Start of term reception…” You mutter to yourself.

Inviting students to eat and drink and share their opinions about the lecturers and the teachings. There are free snacks. So not entirely a bad idea. It’s not like you could avoid Andy forever. And it’s only next week, a few hours during the afternoon. Also, a very good chance to casually ask about your dissertation.

…hoping that you won’t be too clingy to Andy too. After all, it’s still unethical to date your professor.

“Hey sweetheart.” Andy picks up the phone, a small smile hanging on his lips, “everything okay?”

“I was reading and, well, thinking.” You roll over on your bed. Thanks to him dropping by last morning, you aren’t able to get anything done apart from reading and researching your relationship dynamic. And of course, overthinking.

“Tell me.” Andy drops his pen to the table, standing up from his office chair, looking out of the window.

It’s almost annoying.

After the faculty meeting today, they were assigned tasks on their (later) supervisor duties.

More forms to fill. More things to plan. To make way for future meetings. Tons of them.

Although he doesn’t have to finish them sitting in his office at the university, the workload doesn’t lessen because of him bringing the work home.

Still, thinking of the coming future where he gets to tutor you and your dissertation, to take you under his arm. It brings him joy. It makes him want to finish all this crap so he could see you sooner.

“I was wondering…” you close your eyes and say quickly, “I wonder if we could work without the BDSM… thing.”

There.

You said it.

Your heart pounding, not because you are excited, but the exact opposite.

You don’t know what to do when or if he actually refuses you, saying that this dynamic is an inseparable part of his life. On the other hand, it’s not like you could totally live without his dominant self either. Yet you still asked.

Probably wanting to hear the answer.

Which is a ridiculous answer. You know that too. You also know that humanity is the worst thing to ever test out. You know that he might lie. You know he might be considering what he should say before answering.

You still need it though. You need some sort of reassurance. You need an excuse to convince yourself that he is worth having. That he cares. That you two and your weird and new relationship can continue.

“Sweetheart,” he calls your name, without even the slightest hesitation, “it’s us. We’ll make it work. If you want that part out of our relationship, not a problem. I want you. I want… us. The rest doesn’t matter.”

You are relieved. A long exhale escapes your lips.

That’s good news, right?

Him declaring “the rest doesn’t matter”.

A heavy weight is lifted off your chest. More piles up at the same time.

What else is he willing to “sacrifice” to salvage your relationship? A part of himself? Isn’t that going to cost him an arm and a leg, metaphorically?

What if he’s going to “sacrifice” your relationship someday? When you no longer matter to him? When he doesn’t love you anymore?

You shake those ridiculous thoughts off your mind.

You are overthinking again.

“Sweetheart? You there?”

“Yeah. I’m, I’m glad. Thank you, Andy.”

“No need for thanking me, baby. I take care of you, that’s how this works.” His voice soothes your soul, even on the other end of the phone. You want to be taken care of. Or he has convinced you as such.

The bubbly feeling of having his arms wrapped around you grows stronger. You want to be taken care of. You need to be taken care of. By him.

You are suddenly aware of the addict you are, drowning in his sweet words and praises, drowning in his care like drowning in quicksand. You are neck deep in trouble. And now you can’t live a handful of hours without him in your life.

“Look, I know what I ask might be a little, you know, unorthodox,” Andy stacks the papers on his desk into a neat pile, clearing out the pens and other utilities because he’s done with work tonight, “but I still want to.”

“And I know you probably haven’t figured out a lot of things, so I understand if you refuse or say no.” He continues, putting away the books back onto shelves, “I was wondering, if you want to spend the night together, please?”

He wants to kiss you. Touch you. Hold you in his arms. Cuff you two together if you ever try to pull that stunt of distancing yourself again. He understands it’s essential to leave time and space for you to make sense of everything that happened in the past 48 hours. But he couldn’t control himself of making sure over and over again that you won’t decide to leave. He would influence you to think the opposite if you ever had a small idea that encourage you to flee.

He lied.

He lied about getting rid of the BDSM part in your relationship. The Dom part inside him will never be eradicated completely. He would mark you up and collar you if necessary. But for the matter at hand, it’s more important that you stay.

You are smart, funny, and caring. And you match him like two weird pieces of puzzle that have the perfect edges that belongs to each other. He’ll be damned if he let you go.

He’s not proud of himself for this lie. But it has to be done.

One thing he would make sure though, is that he wouldn’t do anything you don’t want to, as long as you want to be with him, which he is sure he could win you back with those cheesy tricks and moves. But you are his. And there’s no denying that.

“Promise no funny business. Scout’s honors.” A brief pause, then his tone grows softer, more serious than the promise he made, “I need you, sweetheart, need you by my side.”

Taglist: @geminiflanagansblog @wintasssoldier

[wakeupthemembersofbylernation]

When I say Bylers are misinterpreting what is happening in the narrative and overstating stuff on the show, and making stuff up in the process... I mean that they go by fanon and ignore the canon narrative. I do think Byler is endgame. I myself am a Byler shipper. However, I also think most Bylers' takes are all wrong or heavily misinterpreted. And honestly? They are consistently being disproven by canon on the show. People's takes regarding El were all wrong. She still has feelings for Mike and wasn't angry with him, she was thinking about Max at the cabin scene. The expectation for her to just break up with Mike and for Mlvn to end quickly in the next season is baseless and sounds very hilarious if we go by canon instead of fanon.

I don't think this situation is as complicated as ppl are making out to be. The most likely scenario is that El will potentially break up with Mike in EP4 or later on, and they will realize that they are incompatible in their relationship, and over the time we will see Mike and Will getting closer and then entering a relationship by the end of the show in the last episode. And while I would want Mike to have an explored and explicit sexuality and coming of age storyline, I feel like that is more envisioned and will happen in Will's narrative specifically as the Duffers also talked about. While Mike's is more about realizing his self worth and choosing to be with Will bc he realizes he loves Will and they're more compatible to be together, and the painting is also used as a plot device for Mike to realize that because Will later on decides to admit the truth to Mike and Mike accepts Will's feelings and realizes he also feels the same and they're fit for each other.

I feel like the fandom is really overstating/misinterpretating what is happening with Byler/Mlvn and that's the reason why their theories are either falling apart by the canon narrative, or getting disproven by the show.

Misinterpretation is always a possibility, but I disagree that Bylers are “making stuff up.” For the most part, Byler theories, even the arguably “out there” ones come from careful analysis and a genuine response to what is shown on screen. I wouldn’t say Bylers are ignoring the canon narrative because I think most Byler analysts are trying to genuinely engage with the canon narrative. With regards to the popular theory that El was mad with Mike, this wasn’t pulled out of thin air but by watching the show. I mean, she genuinely doesn’t look happy with Mike, and her being done with him or no longer having feelings for him would have been consistent with her previous actions as well. So it wasn’t crazy.

But yes, it’s an interpretation. And I agree that The Piggyback script threw a monkey wrench into that interpretation. The thing about interpretations is that they can be wrong. Based on the script, you’re right that it does seem like El still has feelings for Mike and wasn’t mad with Mike about the monologue but about losing. I do still find this concerning, not in terms of Mike’s character necessarily, but in terms of El’s character. I’ve already shared my thoughts on this matter. I’m concerned about character regression. (However, it’s important to note that things in Stranger Things do often change from script to how things are portrayed on screen. I’m still of the belief that in terms of the monologue scene and its aftermath, some things still aren’t adding up. But we’ll see in Season 5).

A lot of Bylers were of the opinion that El and Mike were gonna completely break up in the first episode and that maybe they already broke up secretly off screen during the missing time. I think this is largely due to our desire to see our boys 😉 get together as quickly as possible. But that was never really my position. I think they wanna drag out the love triangle as much as possible for angst/drama, and there still are a lot of shoes to drop such as the painting lie.

You mention that you don’t think this situation is as complicated as people are making it out to be, and that is certainly possible. Your thoughts on what will happen with Byler/Mlleven are a possibility for sure. But I actually think this approach would be more complicated. Most of the general audience is still convinced that Mike is exclusively straight and could never ever be gay or bi or queer in any way. Many of them also don’t like Mike’s character anymore due to his confusing actions in Season 3 and 4. We know better, but the easiest way to explain both of these things is to get inside his head. I really really hope Mike gets Vecnaed, and while it’s not a certainty, I still think there’s lots of evidence for it within the text of the show. If we don’t get into his head, if the problem with Migration Pattern is just incompatibility and nothing more, it raises so many questions and doesn’t really explain anything about Season 3 and 4. And coupled with the love confession monologue, if we operate under the assumption that Mike wasn’t lying at all, it also comes dangerously close to Will being basically a second option. And I don’t think that’s the message we really want the show to convey.

[jeanmoreaux]

can you tell us a little more about dark rise? i love hearing you talk about books, and i'm always more inclined to read them when someone talks about them in depth rather than reading some random person's review of them.

*me, popping back up ten years later with a silly little drink in hand and feeling very, very embarrassed* hi there, wow it’s been some time. life is crazy, isn’t it?

i’d love to talk a little about it but at the same time i don’t think i can talk about it much without getting into spoilers? not that the plot is unpredictable but it partly lives off intrigue (it [the plot] is well-constructed, and as an avid story-enjoyer you’ll probably guess quite a few of the twists because they’re set up well, which doesn’t make the reveals any less satisfying tho in my opinion). so this is all gonna be very abstract and vague. sorry about that </3 idk if you’ve read c. s. pacat before, and while i’d say dark rise reminds of the other stuff she has published, it still manages to be quite different. just to have it mentioned from the start: we know she really likes to explore power dynamics, especially ones that are quite unbalanced in one way or another, and i think dark rise taps into that too, even though to a much lesser degree. so depending on how you feel about that, you’ll read this novel differently.

i think an aspect that’s most central to the story is the idea of fate and how an individual’s agency plays into it. is there something like fate making us into who we are? are we destined to turn out a certain way, a certain kind of person? is there free will to fight again what or who you’re supposed to be or do you play into the hands of fate by defying an ending that seems to be predestined? and i think the story isn’t only concerned with the concept of self-agency but also responsibility. how do you navigate your relationship with yourself and with others in moments when you’re seemingly forced into certain roles? what do you owe the people around you and what do they owe to you? how do you avoid dynamics and patterns and how responsible are the people involved for perpetuating or changing them. and there is also an emphasis on how our relationships, the love we have for other people, additionally influences all of this! this might all have already clued you into the fact that there are basically no straight forward answers to these questions. and i know we keep going on about morally grey stories etc. on this website that sometimes aren’t really morally grey, and in this case i’d say (give that this is a ya title, leaning (new) adult) it does actually engage with moral ambiguity and grey morality. also please keep in mind i only read book one so far, but i could see some corruption arcs happening (give the right circumstances). and ofc in true c. s. pacat fashion the interpersonal relationships do explore loyalty, devotion, seeing people at their worst and still choosing them, the building and breaking of trust, complex parent child relationships, trauma and how it influences your life, etc. there is a “chosen one” element to it, but i think it’s handled well and in an interesting way that truly allows for some interesting conflicts to arise later in the story.

it’s by no means a perfect book, and there are some things i would have tweaked or adjusted, but it’s some of the best ya fantasy i read in a while. it doesn’t shy away from leaning into some more uncomfortable things and it doesn’t try to baby the readers. it’s giving them space to think for themselves, i’d say.

[casliveblog]

Custom Toonami Block Week 175 Rundown

The Witch from Mercury: So IMMEDIATELY after Sul’s duel with Gaston everyone goes ‘wait aren’t the suits that suck the life out of you banned because our war chief is a bloodthirsty dictator?’ and she immediately gets arrested and kicked out of school. Meanwhile Mio’s been told that she’s no longer forced to marry the school’s top pilot and her father is cutting out the middleman and just arranging a marriage for her which she’s like what 16 even for a high business monarchy style thing it seems a little early to lock that down that hard. Also just kinda wondering what the point of even playing at the ‘oh it’s whoever the best is’ if you’re just gonna immediately cut the façade whenever it’s someone you don’t want like why not just force a marriage from the start. Anyway Mio’s like ‘bitch I wanted to marry the gay girl how dare you take back your orders and give me new ones’ like she doesn’t like being told what to do but explicitly seemed a lot more chill about it when it was Sul. Gaston gets beaten by his father for losing and we allude to him being slightly less shitty than we were initially led to believe since he did send some people to clean up Mio’s garden. The bigwigs are all having a NERV-style meeting of shadowy figures and our resident obligatory Masked Gundam Character Prospera is like ‘yeah it looks and functions exactly like a Gundam but it didn’t suck her soul out so it can’t be one, right?’ and no one’s fucking buying that and also it’s a bunch of old men high on their own power so they’re just like ‘well you’re under arrest for building something that functions exactly like the thing we banned then’. Meanwhile Mio shows up, redicrecting her escape attempt to Earth to save Sul and telling her father off and basically having a badass teenage tantrum in a shareholder’s meeting, like it’s kinda cool how blatantly petty and personal her grievances are that it takes some balls to bring it up the way she does surrounded by the most important people in the world that just sentenced a masked lady to jail for technically not breaking the law. She challenges her dad to fight the Aerial and reinstate her engagement to Sul which he has absolutely no obligation to accept given idk if Corporations should really work on Klingon rules anyway and if you’re gonna take shit from him say if you win you get the whole company, go big or go home. But the group discusses that the illegal suit is pretty dope and they wanna get some more data out of it so they agree to let Sul fight to save her Gundam and her lesbian fiancée so that’s good.  

Inuyasha The Final Act: Inuyasha and co. are still soaking in Kikyo’s death and Koga gets an admittedly nice sendoff where he gets to leave on good terms with Kagome as well as get enough out of a rise out of Inuyasha to snap him out of his post-Kikyo coma and get him to resolve to make Koga’s sacrifice worthwhile. I like how Koga intentionally says the most triggering shit just to piss him off at this point like he’s really become self-aware as a character and knows what his role is. Also as another character that embodies the ‘the power to achieve your dreams is inside you’ moral of the story he started out seeking the jewel to obtain the power to unite the wolf demon tribes and ends up so strong that losing his jewel shards is basically just a minor inconvenience and ends up in a relationship that does in fact unite the fractured parts of the tribes. Meanwhile Sesshomaru is talking to his mom about trying to master Meidou Zangetsuha and ends up getting Kohaku and Rin dragged into the underworld during the training. I feel like Sesshomaru’s mom is such wasted potential like she has so little screentime and is basically a plot device they could’ve done so much more with. Once she reveals that Rin can’t be revived again by the Tenseiga Sesshomaru’s grief and compassion evolves both the healing and the meidou side of Tenseiga so he can purify a hundred souls as it was originally stated and create a much larger Meidou Zangetsuha, though Rin still has to be brought back with Mommymaru’s necklace of convenience. It’s really funny that Jaken takes it upon himself to be Sesshomaru’s emotion translator at this point since he knows he’s stoic enough not to cry when Rin dies despite wanting to and also won’t  thank his mom for saving her despite being thankful. Last but not least she tells Kohaku he also can’t be saved by Tenseiga in case people were starting to think that now that he and Sesshomaru are together, apparently you only get one free get out of death free card regardless of the source so yeah. Inuyasha’s group make it their new mission to hunt down and protect Kohaku so they can figure out what to do now that Naraku has 99.9% of the jewel.  

Castlevania: So I’mma be honest, this is where the Internal Vampire politics get kinda frustrating, like I’ve had it in the back of my head that all this infighting may just be a way to ruin Dracula’s otherwise impregnable plan and have a heroic victory while both evil sides are fighting each other and I’m still worried about that considering we’ve spent more time with them than with Trevor this season but in this episode we even find out that all the shit Carmilla wants to do Dracula would’ve just let her do anyway like he doesn’t give a shit, she wants to usurp his armies and the one move that she’s been gunning for since she walked in the door they’re just like ‘sure go nuts’ and the planning of the past like three episodes has basically been for that. I’m getting ahead of myself, Trevor’s group stuff first since we actually make some progress on that this episode. Basically Alucard gives Sypha the reverse speech that Trevor gave her last time about how he’s a dick and they can’t really trust him and like 75% of this show at this point is untrustworthy vampires telling people they can’t trust people. Sypha wisely asserts they’re both morons and they’ve gotta suck it up and get to world-saving or else everyone’s fucked. But yeah back on Carmilla’s weird warpath they don’t know Godbrand’s dead and Isaac is called by Hector to get him to sign off on going to Braila and get in on the Carmilla cult. Isaac is not down for Carmilla but he is for the Braila plan since it means everyone can shut up about it and Carmilla can stop whining so the politics of it don’t functionally matter, like it’s been such a long fight for this and it doesn’t functionally matter because they just do it anyway. Granted Isaac does it because it means their traitors are all in one place with a name and a face and Hector does it because everyone that talks to Carmilla is like ‘Carmilla is always going on about how she doesn’t trust or respect anyone but I’M DIFFERENT, I’M THE SPECIAL ONE’ like Godbrand was a fucking moron so that was fine but geez she’s not even being seductive enough for them to be thinking with their dicks they’re just idiots, she’s not even good at the manipulation considering if she’d just asked Dracula to do it he’s so done at this point he prolly would’ve. She doesn’t even bother to pretend this was Hector’s independent idea and follows him into the room coaching him and shit. Like the only functional thing this does is make Carmilla the Commander in Chief for this fight for… some reason, and like it’s not even a good argument because the two sides are ‘do something’ and ‘do nothing’ and Carmilla has the balls to be all ‘haha now you’re in too deep Hector so I don’t have to pretend to like you anymore’ like BITCH AS LEAST WAIT TILL YOU ACTUALLY HAVE THE REINS like holy shit all you did was convince Dracula to do something he wasn’t all that adverse to doing in the first place you’re not exactly Sosuke Aizen and she has this weird girl power bent to some of her speeches and I’d really rather girls just do the badass girl power thing instead of talking about how girly and empowered they are all the time. Long story short I don’t really like Carmilla and this plot had a really weird end to this section of the season for basically taking up half the runtime. Meanwhile, actual girl power girl Sypha found a way to trap Castlevania in one place as long as she can jerry-rig an ending to the spell that’s like 80% done but she doesn’t have a lot of time because the castle just showed up like… five minutes ago.

Jujutsu Kaisen: It’s Mahito versus Nobara time and apparently Mahito’s clone can’t transfigure souls and can only do the Clayface body warping shit and Nobara actually figures this out and uses the clone’s body as a substitute Straw Doll like she did with the other guy’s arm cause semantically the clone is basically Mahito’s arm and she wrecks him up from long distance, saving Yuji from an ambush in the process and giving him the opportunity to beat the shit out of Mahito while he’s stunlocked. Rather than keep going through that shit, Mahito employs the Joestar Family’s Secret Technique and books it the fuck out of there. The two Mahitos actually meet up and switch, the real one attacking Nobara while Yuji beats the other one’s head in. Mahito gives Nobara’s face a quick tap and isn’t sure if he killed her, like this whole exchange is excruciatingly vague about whether she’s dead or not but we jump straight into her backstory which isn’t a good sign. It’s basically a fleshed-out version of the story she told in the beginning of the series. I feel like this happens a lot where characters in long-running series have simple backstories at the beginning and then have a secondary supplemental flashback to beef up the tragedy or reframe the original flashback, half the cast of One Piece has done this at this point but for Nobara it’s an interesting retelling of her story through the eyes of her friends and giving a ‘this is your life’ type deal about who she’s loved and why she’s done what she’s done that gives a lot better of an idea of who she is than her original introduction. But yeah her eye fucking explodes which is weirdly not how we’ve seen Mahito’s powers work anywhere else but it was just a light tap while he was in a hurry and maybe her energy resisted it or something. Given that and the vagueness where even Mahito’s not sure if it was enough to kill her I’m tempted to say she’s not dead because usually you don’t want to be ambiguous about that shit unless you’re gearing up for a big return but as far as I know the manga’s already fighting Sukuna at this point and she’s yet to make a comeback so who fucking knows.

Delicious in Dungeon: After Laios’s sword gets busted he tells the story of how he got it fighting a bunch of living armor in the dungeon and how he fucked up and died the first time, confirming that death does indeed have no consequences which explains Marcille’s dialogue in the first episode and why no one seems too worried about rushing to get Falin. Still I’d say if death has no consequences in your series that’s something you’d want to establish right away because that is kind of an investment breaker, something like how DBZ put limits on the dragon balls at first and made loopholes harder so death isn’t just meaningless like it is in the Buu Saga. Still I kinda like this episode since it’s mainly focused on one thing and the food stuff doesn’t get in the way of the storytelling too much. They manage to sneak past the living armor colony and Laios fights Ornstein and it turns out it’s a bunch of mollusks living in the layers of the armor and doing weird goopy Alphonse Elric shit. They cook them and Laios gets Ornstein’s sword but it has a mollusk living inside it still so he’s basically got a living weapon which is pretty neat.

Frieren: Beyond Journey’s End: Frieren confronts Aura and surprisingl the Autistic Elf Power Hour has its second encounter with Living Armor this week, what’re the odds? Aura basically has the Millenium Scales except instead of summoning a demon to eat a Musuem Curator she weighs their power level and just instantly controls anyone weaker than her with the caveat that if someone stronger than her shows up she just automatically gets controlled instead. I’m kinda sad this means Aura doesn’t actually have a demon army like this was just a plot by four guys and not a whole organized force but I guess it’s fine. She uses an anti-spell spell to dispel the control instead of blasting nameless husks into the ground and desecrating their corpses because Himmel yelled at her last time for disrespecting the dead. Aura asks her why she cares what a corpse thinks and oh it is ON now. Meanwhile Fern and Stark are preparing for Stark to book it out of dodge and try and get Frieren back to fight the other two demons when they get caught in an ambush by Blood Sephiroth and the little girl. Turns out the little girl’s powers are Unlimited Blade Works/Sharingan shenanigans where she can create a weapon and mimic a fighting style by watching it enough and she’s just so happened to have copied Eisen’s style during the first war and decks Stark with his own moves but better. Meanwhile it seems Fern’s ability is Quick Draw and she can just fire off spells crazy rapid and puts the push on Blood Sephiroth in a really cool fight that creates literal fireworks. Stark takes Eisen’s words of “Just don’t die, stupid” to heart and does that thing from Samurai Champloo where if you leave yourself wide open enough it leaves the enemy wide open for their counterattack and destroys the little girl so yay, two down two to go.

Vinland Saga: War has reached Ketil’s farm and he’s got about 300 farners with pitchforks versus Canute’s 100 Jommvikings and Royal Theigns so yeah it’s basically the coughing baby versus the hydrogen bomb. Luckily Thorfinn’s met up with Leif and Leif’s a fucking chad and agrees to take on all of Thorfinn’s extra baggage he’s gathered over the past season and transport Arnheid out of there while the fighting’s going on. Snake tells his men that Ketil is a fraud and was never a war hero because he knew the guy his name was actually based on and came to him for help but at the same time he feels indebted to the family that’s taken care of him all this time and it’s really funny to watch his speech about how Ketil’s a fraud and not worth dying over right as he goes out to die for him fires his men up more than anything, like actions really do speak louder than words. Ketil’s kinda bought into his own hype at this point and isn’t listening to the dozens of people telling him he’s going into a meatgrinder and yeah it’s a fucking massacre, I imagined Thorfinn would be more upset watching this or trying to actively broker peace talks but I guess he’s got other shit on his plate right now since Arnheid’s on death’s door and got her ghost husband’s permission to go say her last goodbyes. Meanwhile Thorgil’s just gonna pop out of the ocean buck naked with a sword and try and cut Canute’s head off behind enemy lines so that’s… a plan I guess. I have no clue how he intends to get out of there even if he succeeds but okay, you do your naked regicide.

[louisisalarrie]

People are saying Louis has a grace period where he can’t do/say anything - meaning contracts I guess - but he is saying something. He’s saying he’s not with Harry. Surely if he was under any kind of NDA he wouldn’t be able to comment at all??

I’m not an anti. I would love the boys to be together. I’m just suspicious of Louis’ random out bursts where he does seem p*ssed off at Larry. I mean if he really loves him, wouldn’t he just say nothing? If I were Harry, I think i’d be a bit insulted if my boyfriend continued to make public denials (and referred to it as childish conspiracies) whilst I kept quiet.

Also, is Louis annoyed at Larry in terms of being linked to Harry OR is it more related to the insinuation that Freddie isn’t his and he’s not really denying ever being with Harry?

I know this is a contentious topic but I wanted to ask. No judgement either way from me!

Heya anon! I’m gonna break this down a bit.

Louis’ online presence has been very yikes since the first Bullshit tweet. You could see the moment his Twitter started being controlled in one direction, with how different his content became, interacting with the boys (Harry) slowed right down, and his typing style and tone changed. Social media accounts, particular for influential people with a large following, are ran by PR folks on their team. It means the artist can have a more hands off approach, and doesn’t have to worry about posting marketing content at certain deadlines etc., and it’s the easiest reach to get news spread fast. Now, in terms of how much control an artist has over their accounts, differs depending on their contract with their team.

One Direction were the biggest of the big. And when you have 5 teenage boys with huge accounts, it’s pretty safe to say they didn’t want one of them accidentally posting something incriminating towards themselves, the band, or their team, so, they would’ve had very little freedom on their social media when they hit the big point of their career a bit down the track. However, control is not entirely taken over, as the artist still needs to look authentic. They need to connect with fans, get them engaged, and tweet them back. Then, they get trending on Twitter and that’s a win for them, obviously.

So this kind of social media handover is specified in their initial contract, with subcontracts specifying exactly what and how the PR team and the artist will use it. The artist might need to personally post at least 3 times a week across platforms, for example: one tweet replying to a fan, one promo tweet for their music, and one Instagram post/story that ties into whatever the narrative/promo is at that moment, and the contract might be more lax during the months where there isn’t anything to be marketed. Other than that, the team will take care of everything else. That’s their job after all, to market the artist!

So, what’s the best way to dispel rumours about a conspiracy theory when the people in question struggle to talk about the theory on camera? A tweet, of course! It goes straight out to the fans, spreads like wildfire, gets their name trending, and screenshots go straight to the media. The artist doesn’t wanna deal with the inevitable backlash and chaos that ensues after a tweet like that, so, the PR folks say “let’s try and get them to stop talking about larry, by talking about larry…” which makes 0 sense right? If larry isn’t real, they could just leave it alone. Hell, larry aren’t the only pairing in the world, and plenty of other people who have had theories about them like this have just… never commented. Even when they had a big fanbase of people like larries, who believe that they are in a stunt relationship/have been hiding a relationship with another famous person, they’ve just left it alone.

If you have a watch of the Four Hangout interview, where they are all asked if there are any rumours they’d like to deny, Louis and Harry are dead silent. That was the time to do it.

So I think maybe your question leaves out the contracts and closeting of larry, as you’ve said Harry would be pissed that his man has kept denying their relationship to the public (it has been far and few between, though). I would be too, but he’s not doing it on his own accord. the boys, and many other artists in the industry, have been victims of closeting/het pushes. Even just basic PR stunt relationships, that straight people have, are for marketing purposes. There are narratives in place so these artists keep their name in the media, keep looking attainable to a fanbase with young woman fawning over them, and keep selling records/movies whatever it might be. I won’t go deep into Louis and Harry’s stunt relationships and narratives, but it’s very obvious they’ve been victim to them.

So, two birds one stone, right? Deny a relationship that your fanbase has a theory on, on Twitter so there’s proof and it reaches those fanbases fast, while encouraging the stunt narrative the public sees of you, ticking the boxes above. It’s a quick Band-Aid for now, because the longer they don’t say anything, the easier it is for people to assume they’re together. So a little tweet here and there helps. And, unfortunately, Louis has always been the one in the firing line of denials.

Even in the early days of Larry, back in 1d, I think Harry only did one denial on his own, with niall and Liam. H+L did a couple together, and then @Louis_Tomlinson took the reins. Every larry denial on camera was hilarious, poorly responded to, and was laughed at by the fandom. It didn’t jolt us whatsoever, but when you can’t see the person behind the tweet, it is meant to cause a bit more doubt for us. Did he post this on his own accord? Was it PR? It’s not as easy as looking at their body language and seeing them stutter in a video, and that was the point of moving the denials off camera.

These “ask me anything” tweeting sprees that happen, are for the sole purpose of pushing narratives. Louis ticks off a couple of things on his list each time he does one, which are: talk about F, get rid of larry rumours by talking about larry rumours (it’s an absolute joke, the way they do that hahaha), and promo some new music. He also replies to fans about football and other stuff, but that’s because he always has to keep it as authentic as possible. And he does like talking to us, he just has a couple of obligations during this.

In terms of F and bbg, I believe that’s a stunt so I don’t think Louis is mad about people not believing it, so I can’t comment on that, unfortunately!

Now, NDAs. This term is thrown around A LOT in this fandom, and the actual way one works can get lost in translation through misinformation and overuse of contractual language that confuses folks who don’t have a deeper knowledge of entertainment law and the entertainment industry. NDAs are not a one page contract that states a couple of things that you can’t do, and you just scribble a signature. They are big documents that are overlooked by several lawyers and adjusted/assessed/edited over a long period of time, depending on the importance of why someone needs to sign one. There are already basic drafts for fans/crew who see something they shouldn’t see etc., but they are edited to be specific as possible to that situation, so there are no blurred lines. There are no mistakes. No loopholes. Everyone around the boys has signed one, which I’ve discussed a little bit about before.

When it comes to keeping a relationship under wraps from the public, both parties need to sign a separate copy, often times of the exact same document. But, NDAs are different to other PR and marketing contractual Agreements. NDAs say “hey, don’t talk about this thing or any other of these things! It can’t be leaked! If you do, there will be huge consequences and you’ve broken the contract and we will take all your money and sue you and you’ll never have a career again!”, while marketing and PR Agreements are “hey, so people are talking about you being in a secret relationship, and you’ve signed an NDA so you can’t say you are in one, so we’re gonna give you a fake relationship to help keep things quieter and hopefully dispel the beliefs (which will make it easier for you to not say anything if people leave the topic alone!!) and we can get some good marketing in and grow the band yada yada yada”. Which, they thought would work, but we’re still here haha. So the two can be mutually exclusive for artists like Harry and Louis, but their team will obviously just sign an NDA.

So, my advice is, don’t take everything at face value. Louis wouldn’t want to lose any fans, regardless of what they believe in. And same with Harry. They just have different narratives to appeal to different demographics.

[aajjks]

TPOL!JK

“actually…never mind. give me my ring back” you say snatching it out of his hand and placing it back on your finger. the diamond ring is very beautiful; three meaning you, jaemin, and jungkook or you, jaemin, and ji-ae. you absolutely love the ring and although the proposal wasn’t romantic at all, you’re fine with it not being romantic. the first time jungkook proposed to you was on the rooftop of a hotel and you were surrounded by rose petals. you don’t need something grand like that when you have the rest of your lives together and a wedding!!

as you’re putting your ring on, jungkook mentions you telling namjoon about chaeyoung, which, you haven’t. from the looks of it, namjoon seemed to believe that you carried jaemin and he’s yours biologically so you aren’t too worried about it because you’ve just ran out of pills and you’re hoping the next time will be the jackpot.

jungkook seemed like he wanted to impregnate you and the only reason you aren’t pregnant is because you’re still taking pills to prevent yourself from getting pregnant. plus, jaemin is only two months old. another baby right now would be too soon so you just kept up with your medication.

“regardless on whether he finds out about chae or not, we still have each other. chaeyoung can’t leave the institution until she’s feeling better and namjoon isn’t like that. i’m sure nothing bad will happen so don’t let it eat you up” you say with a smile. you aren’t worried about chaeyoung or namjoon. your only concern is your new family and unless jungkook fucks it up, then there will be nothing to worry about.

“i could try and talk to him if you want” but you know jungkook doesn’t want you anywhere near namjoon without him so that isn’t going to work. you again strut seductively to jungkook still in your lilac robe and wrap his arms around your waist while yours wrap around his neck.

“i don’t want you to worry about anything, okay? and i’m not gonna go through your phone” you joke “now that we’re engaged, do you want a wedding? we can just marry in secret and have a little get together with our friends. nothing too big, y’know?”

you aren’t gonna let anyone break your happy family up. not namjoon, not chaeyoung, and not jungkook’s insecure thoughts either. although you aren’t proud of his actions, the old jungkook would’ve cursed you out and called you out of your name. you’re proud of how much jungkook has matured and if everything goes right, you both will be fine.

You have the patience of a saint with him.

The way, his heart skipped a beat when you asked for your ring back, and he eagerly gave it back to you, letting you slide it onto your finger yourself because it just felt so good watching you do that.

And he has got to admit that this is officially the worst proposal in the history of them, and it was so unromantic too, Jungkook isn’t the most romantic or when he’s jealous or stressed out.

And you know him like the back of your hand.

He is still anxious, but his anxiety slowly starts to burn away when you approach him ever so closely, wrapping his arms around your waist and yours on his neck.

He honestly loves it when you take control of everything and him. Sometimes you should because he is way too exhausted to even think clearly right now. “You’re right yn… you’re always right. So intelligent aren’t you?” He giggles, peppering your face in kisses.

And believe it or not, he doesn’t plan to fuck this up for you guys too, he just wants to marry you as soon as possible and spend the rest of his life with you and your beautiful family that will obviously grow with time.

So Jungkook and you begin to chuckle, and, teasing each other with kisses. He thanks God internally because Jaemin is sleeping, so peacefully like the good boy that he is, and his mother is probably out visiting her friends.

So Jungkook doesn’t waste a second and carries you to the bed. He gently lays you down on the mattress and joins you. “Hmm I definitely want a big big wedding because I want everyone to see that I have married you..” of course he wants to show you off, and he wants to give you the wedding of a lifetime.

He wants to make it a dream for you and he wants to make it come true, Jungkook is staring at you all dazed, still surprised about the fact that you’re still with him despite everything he’s done.

You are like a dream come true. And as long as you are by his side, he thinks he’s going to be just fine. “Yn?” he said as he calls out your name, supporting his head with his hand as he uses the other to caress the skin of cheek.

“do you remember the first time we met? Ahhh so… nostalgic. I still remember the day very clearly. It was my birthday after all.” His heart ponders as he reminisces about your first meeting, and just how the day is special to him.

“somehow I managed to convince yerin to abandon you so I could have some alone time with you.” of course he knows that it was supposed to be a double date with you and him + yerin and yugyeom.

He winks, mischievously.

[highlifeboat]

Angst makes me wonder (even though you've probably talked about this, sorry) - how do the Dimitrescus help their loves through heavy trauma times (anniversaries, triggers, etc)?

Or alternatively- how do they get helped themselves by their partners?

Weh, I'm sorry, I was gonna do the second half of the question too but my brain is not braining. (also apologies for the long ass paragraphs)

The anniversary of the Massacre is really hard on Elena (and Max, but we’ll get to him), and as much as she tries not to seem bothered it’s not hard to tell that she gets very sullen around February, and just generally less… herself. Of course the Slaughter isn���t a secret, no one’s surprised that Elena kind of shuts down, but it still hurts Bela to see her be so depressed. Especially when she’s been such a light in Bela’s life. The problem is she isn’t entirely sure what to do beyond being extra attentive. It’s a lot of alone time for them, honestly. Not really doing anything, just Elena in Bela’s lap while they cuddle and Bela trying to take Elena’s mind off of it by talking about… anything. Anything that keeps Elena engaged. Bela wishes Elena would tell her more about what happened at Luiza’s house. It would probably do Elena some good to get it off her chest. But she can’t make her talk. All she can do is try to be supportive and provide as much comfort as she can.

Triggers aren’t as much of a problem for Elena, or at least she hasn’t had anything trigger her yet, so it isn’t something Bela’s had to help her with. She does understand Elena’s big discomfort with fire, though (which isn’t really a heavy trauma thing, but still), and is always ready to provide reassurance that it's perfectly safe.

Much like Elena, Max takes the first week of February especially hard. The main difference is he actively tries to distract himself from it with a lot of wine. It’s not initially weird to Daniela, because Max drinks quite a bit anyway, but it does become a concern when that’s literally all he’s doing. She doesn’t want him to drink himself into a coma, obviously, and it kind of forces her to intervene and take him away from the alcohol. The only other coping mechanism he knows is sex, but needless to say Daniela isn’t exactly down for it when he can’t even stand. She’s kind of stuck listening to his drunk ramblings for a while, but eventually suggests he try and write or draw out his feelings. “It works for Cass. Sometimes.” She tells him, throwing a notepad and some pencils on the floor for him. Max is no artist, but (once he’s more sober) he finds it kind of therapeutic to just.. Scribble. Not draw or write anything, but just mindlessly scribble and generally wreck the pages. Easier than talking his feelings out in the moment, anyway. So Daniela kind of inadvertently helps him that way. Maybe does some doodles in her own book while she watches him to make sure he doesn’t do anything stupid. Because those drunk ramblings were more than a little worrying.

The big thing for Melony is having panic attacks when she’s triggered (Usually caused by one to many unprompted/unwanted touches). Cassandra has gotten pretty good at not immediately trying to grab/hug Melony to ground her, since that usually just makes it worse. Instead she’s learned it’s better if she just… talks. Get Melony to focus on her. Maybe provide some kind of comfort item (like any kind of stuffed toy). Melony doesn’t like that Cassandra has to do this kind of thing for her, but she greatly appreciates it. She also argues there aren’t any specific dates that make her upset, but it doesn’t stop Cassandra from noticing how her tone kind of shifts during her birthday. Cass doesn’t really know how to help her with that beyond trying to indulge in Melony’s interests more actively. It doesn’t usually work. (Though she seems to go back to being herself after the day passes.)

[dearestones]

Twisted Wonderland Matchup: Jamil Viper

Warnings: Fluff. 

Anonymous Request: Hello!! I would like to request a romantic matchup for the twst cast. I would prefer if they were 2nd or 3rd years btw! And please call me Azura ^^

So I'm just gonna try to sum up my personality - I'm an Enfp, 7w6. I'm honestly pretty shy even as an extravert, but I get more confident after observing the other person! I'm a really fun person to be with (said my friends) though I can be pretty annoying.. I can chatter on and on about my interests! I always want to chat with someone, especially if they also share the same interests as me! I'm really generous, and sweet, very often found helping someone out (even an animal, since I'm found treating animals wounds, and feeding strays.) I'm actually very motherly, and very often take care of my dearest ones whenever they're unwell. I'm a good mix of mature, and childish! Though,, I fall more on the childish side..

And my hobbies.. Ahh, this is gonna be a bit long.. I can just list them out.

Art (writing, sculpting, painting, etc)

Singing (I'm really good at opera stuff!!)

Dancing,, currently practicing ballet.

Listening to music

Playing the piano and guitar

Stargazing

Reading

Collecting cute plushies (or just cute stuff)

and many more!

You can leave this out and just say its a matchmake for Azura, or leave certain parts out since this feels way too long.. I'm sorry if I disturbed you! Thank you so, so much for reading this! (≧∇≦)

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After going through the information given, I believe that you best pair well with Jamil Viper! 

Jamil doesn’t always have the patience when dealing with new people, but he can be cordial when need be. Although he is a bit rough around the edges, that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t think that your personality is an interesting change of pace. Because he’s been Kalim’s servant for so long, he’s used to people who are more extraverted than he is and those who tend to talk a lot. There might be times when he might get a little tired of the chatter, but that doesn’t mean that he doesn’t appreciate it if the other person means well and if they respect his distance if he ever asks for it. 

Although Jamil is a far cry from shy, he does tend to fade into the background or talk very little if no one else is engaging in conversation with him. As long as you aren’t Kalim requesting for more parties to be thrown, Jamil will happily entertain you by listening to your stories and interests that you wish to spell. There’s a lot that can be learned about you and once he gets a hint of interest in who you are as a person, he will definitely be a lot more interested in asking questions and inquiring after your well-being. 

Your generosity and sweetness is both envied and admired by Jamil. After spending his entire life at the back and call of the Asims, he wants to be seen as top priority by someone else. Once the both of you become friends, he’s flummoxed as to why you’re always taking care of him or offering your help, but it’s rare that he’ll turn down the favor. In fact, he finds it adorable that you’ll offer in the first place. Feel free to help him in the kitchen or coaching Kalim in how to better himself in the classroom. 

If the both of you are out in the village below Night Raven College and you find strays that need taking care of, he’ll find you endearing when you see your nature concerning animals. Again, it’s the very idea that you’re being so selfless in helping others that he finds so fascinating. He had to help Kalim because he was born to serve. With you, it seems so natural. 

Because Jamil is so used to taking care of others, he’ll greatly appreciate your motherly nature. You don’t have to do a lot for him, but know that he’s happy whenever you tend to him whenever he’s feeling overwhelmed with taking care of balancing Kalim’s needs and his education. 

As a kid, he never got to live much of a childhood, but with you he can feel himself relax. A childish personality is more than welcome as long as you don’t go overboard like Kalim.

You have such an eclectic array of hobbies! One of the things that stands out to Jamil is the fact that you like dancing. Perhaps you would like to dance with him? He may not know so much about ballet, but he would like to see how graceful you are on stage. Also, would you like to learn his style of dance? He can guarantee that it will be fun once the both of you start moving to the beat.

All in all, the both of you are well suited to each other. Despite what reservations he may have in the beginning, that does not stop him from trying to get to know you better. Please make time for him and make him a top priority in your life—it’s been so long since he’s been nothing more than Kalim’s shadow. 

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If you want to donate a Ko-Fi, feel free https://ko-fi.com/devintrinidad.

TWISTED WONDERLAND MASTERLIST

[madalice31]

People are so fucking weird and backwards.

Folks flipped the fuck out when Millie Bobbie Brown got engaged at 19. There was so much backlash talking about how she was “too young” to be engaged. But oh it’s quite alright for Halle Bailey to be a baby mama at 22.

20 something maybe too young to get married but certainly not too young to have a kid. Smh. Y’all gurls really THIS okay with baby mama culture huh? I remember when our community (the black community) was looked down on for being a baby mama. But Kylie came around and made it cool? I swear yall sling the word woke around a lot but everyone is still sleep.

Like the comments about people “hating” on young mothers? Can we get real? At least Millie’s boyfriend proved his commitment to her by proposing BEFORE knocking her up.

DDG has been playing throughout his relationship with Halle. The drama with his ex. Like are we really gonna ignore the red flag that he dived straight into his exs DMs the moment he had a disagreement with Halle? That’s how you resolve the issues in your relationship bro? Oh he thinks because he can take her on shopping sprees (that she can fucking take herself on) that’s more than enough to be a good man 🙄. The song talking about him being jealous of her career and sabotaging it. Knocking her up don’t sound like sabotage to yall? And he love calling her “the Mrs” but he was not as quick to put a ring on her finger as he was to raw dog it. And now, after the fact, y’all see him rushing to Zales or Jarred? 🙄 she ain’t even said she loved him until she started dressing differently. Aka until she knew she was pregnant. Now suddenly he the love of your life. Smh. I don’t blame Halle. She’s young. I’m just wondering where her team at? Where Chloe at? If I’m being honest, that’s who I would have expected to pop up pregnant. I mean every song is about getting her back blown out. Seems like she was ready for these streets lol. But truly, did no one have a conversation with Halle to not take her first real relationship too seriously, especially when she’s at the start of her career? ESPECIALLY when he’s such a cornball? I didn’t know who he was until she started dating him. Someone said he got his family out the hood with YT. I’m sorry, since when is that a unique story? Plenty people in this day and age have been able to achieve that, doesn’t take away the fact that they problematic if they are.

I mean someone else said, she’s still Halle. She’s still gonna be booked. It’s not 1964. No it’s not. But women aren’t even allowed to have abortions now, remember? We don’t have governance over our OWN bodies in 2023. This false sense of progression we have as a society is truly concerning. And I mean honestly, maybe for a Millie, it wouldn’t have that much of an effect on her career if it happened to her. Maaaybe. But for a Halle? We already got to fight for a seat at the table. They will use any and every excuse to take that seat from you, no matter how much they claim to like you.

Halle’s career is about to come to a standstill. I don’t know her so I don’t know how she feels about it. But there’s a reason young actresses and singers try to avoid pregnancy when their careers are just starting to take off. Hell just women who have regular careers outside of the spotlight avoid pregnancy early in their lives because as much as people like to act like it’s nothing to have a baby, it’s life changing in a way that no one really talks about or no one really digests.

And now Disney has already removed their submission for her to be considered for best original song for the Little Mermaid. That could have at least been her first Oscar nomination. But we all know Disney don’t play about their image and even tho she’s 22 and not 16, they’re gonna distance themselves. Yeah, it’s not 1964 alright. And I’m sure that’s one of many opportunities she will lose out on.

No judgment tho. I wish her the best and I hope he does right by her. I’m sure she will still be successful but I doubt her success will look the same and that’s the part I wish folks would keep it real about.

All the while I’m wondering where Ms “mentor” Beyonce is. 👀 too busy cheesing with Taylor Swift of all people. Smh. Let me not get started.

[duckymcdoorknob]

This is gonna be the first time I request from you and I hope you don't mind :))

An emergency request pls. So, i have this tendency of talkinga a lot, principally when its about something I really enjoy, one thing that is normal to happen when I talk too much is people interrupting me out of nowhere and never letting me finish, any time someone does that I just feel like crying honestly, and of course that happened today and no one seemed to notice. Could I have a scenario with Saiki where his partner normally suffers with that?

It's okay if you don't want to, have a great day :))

Hi of course you can!! Thank you for requesting!

Sorry about the long wait lmao I have a couple (like 10) of these in my inbox

CW BELOW THE CUT: Reader is ignored :(

𝐾𝑢𝑠𝑢𝑜 𝑆𝑎𝑖𝑘𝑖

Saiki had begun to notice how your demeanor changed quickly.

But he didn’t exactly know why.

Yes, he could read your mind and it could all be over. But he wants to try to be an “emotionally attached” boyfriend.

So he waited for you to come to him.

Except… that didn’t exactly happen.

Fortunately, you were both sitting at lunch together, friend groups merged.

Kaido and Nendo had found themselves talking to some of your friends about some nerdy movie they were all into.

Kuboyasu and Toritsuka had engaged in a board game with two more of your friends.

That just left you and your boyfriend.

While you were content with just talking to your lover, you had recently gotten something you were very excited about.

“Guys look!” You chimed, pulling the item out of your bag.

Everyone turned their attention towards you, eyes seemingly interested in the object.

When you held it up and displayed it with a proud look, they let out a few ad-libbed reactions.

“Yep! It’s something from my favorite show.” You cooed with a beaming smile.

From that point on, you began to explain the major plot points of your favorite show. Hitting every interesting fact about it.

Your face was simply lit like a Christmas tree as you enthusiastically explained every aspect.

“And then the main character had to-“

“Hey did anyone take Sensei’s quiz earlier? I totally got a 55!” Kaido chirped suddenly, resulting in laughter from the group.

You immediately snapped your mouth shut and sunk back into your seat, lazily prodding at your lunch.

Ah. This again.

The group was chattering away happily without you…

“Well? Then what happened?” Saiki asked in a monotone, resting his chin on his knuckles.

“Wh-“

“You never finished your synopsis.” The pinkette continued, “And you seem quite invested in it, so fill me in.”

“It doesn’t matter, Saiki.” You replied with a forced smile, “It’s just me blabbering like I always do.”

“Your passions aren’t blabbering. I want to know what else happens, since I might watch this show.”

You sigh and shake your head, “I promise it’s just me ranting about the show. Nothing you can’t look up on the internet on your own.” you mumbled out the last part and turned your face away from him.

“(Y/N), hey. Look at me,” Kusuo demanded, gently taking your hand.

You return his gaze with tear-pricked eyes. “What, Kusuo? They don’t even care about what I have to say. They don’t even know I’m crying right now, I bet you.”

“It doesn’t matter what they think; you have me. I will always be invested in the things you tell me. My life is pretty boring, so your little quips about things I don’t know about are my favorite thing about you.” Kusuo said softly, rubbing his thumb along the base of yours.

“Saiki-“

“So please, continue your story.” He said with a slight smile, “There’s no need to feel ashamed in sharing the things you love. Those things make you special, and I love to hear about them.”

You shook your head with a smile, wiping your teary eyes.

Soon your eyes returned to their prior sparkling form, finishing your rundown.

Saiki was actually entranced too!

At first he was just giving verbal reassurances. Your classic “yep.” “Yeah” and “uh-huh”s

But then? It switched to “No way.” “Wait seriously” *gasp*, “oh my god.”

He most definitely knew what you two were going to do for your next date.

—————♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎✞♡︎—————

[avintagekiss24]

—belated; bucky barnes

pairing: mob!bucky barnes x black!reader

word count: 4738

warnings: 18+ ONLY, smut, sex, rough sex, anal sex, biting kink, choking kink, spanking, pain kink, vaginal fingering, mean bucky (my fave), ring kink cuz i love it when boys wear rings

squares filled: @buckybarnesbingo Y3: Birthdays ; @badthingshappenbingo Biting ; @star-spangled-bingo N1: Taking Charge

request: bucky barnes + "pay attention to me or i'll make you" + anal + choking + spanking + biting + pain

author note: it's been foreverrrrr! i'm so sorry! i had to work myself through a little slump! hopefully this makes up for the almost two months we've gone without a fic! this is story #2 for my 5k celebration, all fics will be tagged #5k...holy god. this was formatted in the beta text post editor on desktop, if anything looks weird, that's why :)

gif by @pedropcl ; line divider by @firefly-graphics

James Buchanan Barnes is possessive.

One of those massive hands around the back of your neck as you walk casually through the streets. Fingers wrapped around your wrist, or shoulder, or hip in a tight grip. He pulls you in close— right into his side as shopping bags hang from the tips of his metal fingers.

Bucky Barnes wants every man on the streets of Greece to know that you are his.

Not that you mind; quite the contrary. You just smile and giggle when he throws his heavy arm around your shoulders and hooks the crease of his arm right underneath your chin. Slip your hand into the back pocket of his loose dark jeans (giving that little tush of his a squeeze). Slink your arm around his little waist and breathe in his scent— heavy and woodsy— as the two of you stroll.

After all, he’s just as much yours as you are his.

All of his friends, Sam, Steve, Clint, all see the change in him. The little soft spot for you that blinds him entirely— turns him in a mushy puddle of emotions and puppies and rainbows. Very different from the Bucky they grew up with, but a Bucky that the three of them have come to enjoy. It’s a change of pace from the enforcer they know.

The two of you don’t talk about his work— in fact, it’s the reason why you’re in Greece to begin with. A late birthday present to make up for the fact that his “work” just happened to be the waiter at the restaurant he chose to take you to for your thirty second birthday. Come on babe, he chuckled as you scowled back at him over the rim of your wine glass, watching as he stained his white napkin red with his bloody knuckles, you know what they say, kill two birds with one stone… not funny?

Two weeks, two nonrefundable, open ended tickets, and five grand in bikinis, shorts, and shoes later, you’re getting some much needed Greek sun on your deep brown skin.

He’s even letting you call the shots for a change. Letting you wake him up at the ass crack of dawn to have breakfast— a spread of breads, cheeses and fruits on the balcony of your room as the sun rises. He doesn’t say a word as you drag him through the city, stopping at each little boutique and shoe store. Sits patiently as you try on every dress, every skirt, and every silk top in the entire country it seems.

Bucky even bit his lip as you gazed at engagement rings— hinting that princess cut is your favorite as you held your hand up into the natural sunlight as one adored your finger. Smiling over at him and wiggling your eyebrows all the while as he narrowed his eyes and plastered a fake smile on his face.

Today has been like all the others, a lazy day spent on the beach, a quick nap underneath an umbrella, a concoction of too much sun and too many margaritas going straight to your head. Now, you’re kinda sleepy and kinda drunk, but most importantly hungry— and Mykonos sounds like a great place for dinner. Despite Bucky’s objections (you’re too tired and too drunk to handle a ferry), you’re dressed in a cute little flowery sundress, him in an out-of-character white tank top, open pale blue and green striped button down and khaki chinos— you forbade him from bringing anything black— and you’re flip flops are slapping against the cobblestone street towards the ferry.

“Drop your attitude,” You say, glancing over your shoulder as he pays for your tickets, “You owe me.”

“Yeah, yeah, that excuse is wearing thin, girl.” You stumble a little with the motion of the ferry as you step onto it, having to grab onto the railing to steady yourself before Bucky grabs hold of your wrist, “Water only for the rest of the night.”

His voice is low and borderline threatening as he presses his lips right against your ear, and you know not to press him any further. You like to stick your toes right up against his line and that’s what irritates him most about you (always what he loves most), but you and he both know you’d never dare cross it.

Bucky pulls you behind him, hand around your wrist, that possessive trait rearing its head as male eyes fall on you as the two of you pass by. He finds an empty spot, away from the crowd, and plops down on the bench as you step up on the lower rung of the railing and stare out over the sea.

Within twenty or thirty minutes, the ferry pulls away from the dock and you can’t wipe the smile from your face. The sun sets off in the distance, the bright lights of the city turning into little pinpoints. Small droplets of the cool, salty water splashes up in your face as the wind and the ferry whips it up. You keep glancing down at the phone in your hand as you broadcast your current view to your instagram, laughing softly as hearts and emojis explode on your screen.

You lean forward, tilting your phone and smiling wide, waving into the camera before you shout out how much you love it here. The words are barely out of your mouth before an arm wraps around your middle, a wide, hard chest pressed into your back, “That’s enough,” he reaches with his metal arm, grabbing your phone, ending your live feed, “You’re too drunk to be hanging off the side like that.”

“I am not,” you struggle against him lightly as he sets you on your feet, “What is your problem?”

“I’m annoyed.”

“Well, duh. Why?”

He slips your phone into his pocket and crosses his arms over his chest, sharp blue eyes piercing into yours, “Pay attention to me,” he says low, eyes dropping down your body real slow as he drags his bottom lip between his teeth, “Or I’ll make you.”

So that’s what it’s about. Bucky Barnes feels neglected between all the shopping and beach days and margaritas. Jealousy is cute on him.

The words though, they strike you right to your core— feel them down to your bones. A hard swallow pushes through your throat as your lips part, big brown eyes softening as your breath starts to rush a little harder. You hate to admit— not really— you love this Bucky. This is work Bucky, a man you rarely get to see. Slightly scary, anger brimming just below the surface. Jaw tight, eyes hard, head tilted just a bit. He’s menacing, and it makes your lips twitch into a small smile.

Shrugging defiantly, you cross your arms over your chest, “You didn’t pay much attention to me on my birthday.”

“Not true.”

“Not true?” you nearly shout, eyes going wide, “I ate alone while you beat the hell outta our waiter behind the building! I had to wait two hours for my slice of cake!”

“How is that my fault?”

You scoff, “Oh, I dunno, maybe because our waiter was spitting out his teeth in the alley out back— all thanks to you.”

“I have to work. You know that.”

“Not,” you hiss, “On my fucking birthday.”

He knows he’s wrong for that shit, so he stands there, huffing quick before he cocks his head again and just blinks back at you— unamused. He won’t apologize, it’s just not in his nature, but his usual attempts to make you happy after he’s fucked up aren’t working; so he’s at a loss.

And you’re enjoying that. A little too much if you ask him.

But alas, it’s not fun to fight on vacation, and you have taken far too many liberties when it comes to his tolerance for attitude. It’s been fun— and you’re just drunk enough to push him one last time.

You move slow, walking right up to him, so close that each inhale pushes your tits into his body. The smirk quirked up on your lips grows as you peer up at him, eyes bouncing between his as you place your hands on his forearms still crossed over his chest.

Bucky lifts his eyebrow as you push up on your tiptoes and push your chin forward to bring your lips close to his, “And just how are you gonna make me pay attention to you, James?”

He inhales deep, pushes it out real slow as he tilts his head even further. A smile spreads on his face and you just know that this is the last thing his work sees before he rearranges the bones of their face. This is exactly why his clients pay him as well as they do.

Thick fingers are wrapped around your wrist again, nails digging into your skin as he starts to pull you behind him. He weaves you through bodies, you nearly having to jog to keep up with his strides. Laughter bubbles up in your chest, a little shriek escaping as he pulls you down some stairs to the lower level of the ferry. Once your feet hit the last step, Bucky whips you around his body, sending you spinning and laughing until you bounce into an old, rusty metal barrel.

The smell of salt fills your nose and lungs as you inhale, covering your face with your hands. Your skin is hot, lips slightly numb as you dissolve into laughter again. He’s right, you’re a little too drunk for this.

“I don’t think we’re supposed to be down here.” You mumble, brushing your wild hair out of your face.

“I could give a fuck,” he answers, stepping up to you, grabbing your face in his hands, “You’ve been testing me the entire time we’ve been here all over some stupid shit.”

Another giggle pushes through your lips as you bat your eyes, “I wouldn’t dare, Mr. Barnes.”

Bucky sucks his teeth as he drops his metal hand around your throat and squeezes gently, the rings on his fingers cool against your skin, “I was stupid, okay? But don’t put on that little innocent act, girl. You’re trying me, and I’ve had enough.”

A smile cracks onto your face, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. You wrap both hands around his one wrist and slip them up his arm, feeling the soft metal as you continue to goad him, “You got some proof, big man?”

The tip of his black and gold thumb prods at your lip, pushes just inside. You wrap your tongue around it and suck gently, keeping your eyes on his all the while.

Bucky laughs, deep and earnestly, “Proof, she says. She needs proof.” He glances around before he spins you quick, facing you away from him as he lifts your dress to reveal your pink satin thong.

You squeal loud, pushing and slapping at his hand as he grabs a handful of your ass, “Bucky! There’s people!” you laugh, “Oh my god!”

“Keep your voice down,” he warns, wrapping his metal fingers around your throat again, “Understand?”

A jolt of electricity flashes through you as you wiggle in his grasp. He tightens his grip around your neck as you wrap your fingers around the edge of the barrel, swallowing hard.

“That requires an answer, honey.”

The chill in his voice, added with the slow circles and soft tickles of fingertips against the back of your naked thigh sends a pang through your belly, “I understand.”

He chuckles soft and with a quick peck on the cheek whispers, “Good girl.”

Bucky curls his left arm around your chest, hooking your chin in the crease of his arm as he grips your right shoulder. You grab on to it with both hands, out of instinct, eyes wide and skirting around for any signs of other human presence down here. Bucky turns, moving you with him to eye the steps quickly again before that flesh hand sweeps around to the front.

The soft material of your dress falls over his hand as he rubs your stomach— his rings catching and snagging your skin. That hand pushes downward, over your thighs, gripping and kneading the soft flesh before he grabs the hem of your dress and pulls it upward, exposing those expensive panties again.

“Bucky,” you hum, his name trembling on your lips with the vibrations of your excitement, “Baby.”

He rucks your dress right up— right up around your waist and pulls the slack behind you, pressing his body into yours to keep it in place. The dark stubble adorning his cheeks and chin cuts into the side of your face as he nuzzles in, humming to himself soft before he kisses the corner of your mouth.

Those fingertips start to trace the hem of your thong— slowly. Back and forth, back and forth. From hip to hip. Your eyes flutter. Fingers grip the soft black metal of his arm a little harder. Legs go to jelly as another hard swallow passes through your throat.

“Ain’t got all that mouth now, do you?” He whispers, fingers slipping just inside the silk of your panties to tease the delicate skin underneath.

When he slips his hand in— all the way in— cupping hot skin, fingers dancing between folds and teasing a wet slit, an influx of air fills your lungs. A gasp, small and clipped sounds in the back of your throat as his fingers start a rhythm. You melt into him, head resting on his shoulder as your hips push forward to meet greedy fingers.

A naughty finger pushes in quick, and then a second— all the way to the black and silver rings dressed on them. His arm tightens around your neck as he presses his lips right against your ear, “You need to apologize.”

He fucks his fingers into you, withdrawing slow, and then pushing back in— each time the edges of his rings stopping him from going deeper. You can’t help but purr as you continue to grip his arm with both of your hands.

“I don’t think—“

“All I want to hear,” his words clip yours, each one slow and drawn and deep, “Is I’m sorry for testing your patience. I won’t do it again.” He curls his fingers, the pads stroking that sweet little spongey spot, making you clamp your legs closed around his hand, “Let me hear you.”

You can’t. You won’t. Too stubborn and too drunk to give in to him, wanting to win just this once.

If there’s one thing James Buchanan Barnes does not like, it’s hesitation. It’s dangerous, he always says. You think too long, you get hurt. Predators don’t hesitate.

Well, you like being his prey.

Only a few seconds pass before Bucky tuts in your ear, seemingly disappointed in your obstinate behavior, but you both know it’s just the opposite. His cock pressing into your ass tells you so.

The fingers disappear. The arm choking you just right pulls away and your dress falls back around the middle of your thighs. You huff, wiping quick at your forehead and pushing your wild, curly hair out of your face again.

Your hands find your hips in irritation but he slaps them away quick as he sucks his teeth, “You must really want this spanking, girl. Keep it up.”

That you do— keep it up. Huffing again. Crossing your arms over your chest like a petulant child. Brown eyes cut back at him over your shoulder to find sharp blues already on you. A smirk on his face.

Metal fingers curl around the back of your neck, pushing you forward gently until your thighs press against the old metal barrel again.

“Lean forward, kitten.”

Voice as smooth as silk while you do so, gripping the rusted edges for balance. Your dress is yanked up again— rough this time— and twisted around his Vibranium hand. Then there’s warm, the warmth of skin against yours. Gentle brushes of fingers and a palm rubbing slow circles, then pinching and grabbing soft— prepping your skin for what’s to come.

He pauses for just a second, no doubt to scan your surroundings and then pulls his hand away. You lung forward with the slap he levels to your behind within a fraction of a second— the sound sharp and heavy.

There’s another, and then a third in quick succession before he’s massaging your skin again. Real soft and sweet. Tears burn at the back of your eyes at the sting that radiates through, all the way to your bones but the molten heat deep in your belly spreads like a fire. Each breath is hard and shaky, heart thumping against your chest but it’s so good.

Bucky switches to the other cheek, skilled fingers sweeping over your canvas of skin before he cracks you— one, two, three.

You squeal with each one. The thud of those heavy rings around his fingers send a quick, new shockwave every time, building on the one before it. The tips of your fingers go red from holding on to the rusty old barrel as tight as you are, but your brain? She’s fuzzy and warm, and drifting up into the clouds with each swift slap.

Bucky is a methodical man. Three for the right cheek, three for the left, three right in the middle. His hand sneaks around your hip, giving it a squeeze before it comes back around and drops to the inside of your thigh. Grabs the meat of it— digs his fingernails in just to hear you yelp. Cups your cunt in his palm, feeling the heat and the wet— makes him groan all low and dirty.

He bunches your hair in his hand, tugs you up by it. Spins you around to face him before hoisting you up and settling you on top of the barrel.

“You want me to fuck you so bad, don’t you?” He growls, ripping at the button and zipper of his jeans.

You just hum in response, wrapping your legs around his waist and throwing your arms over his shoulders.

Bucky grabs your chin, forcing it up before he squeezes your cheeks, “Huh? Answer me.”

Damp eyelashes flutter as hot air escapes from parted, hot lips. He leans in real close, cock pushing right at your slit and kisses you hard as he slips his arm around your waist. He breaks away quick, sloppy and loud before pecking your lips once, twice, three times again.

“You want me to fuck you, girl?”

The weight of his words are felt right down to your core, a shiver passing between the two of you. You let your heavy head fall back and your eyes close as Bucky nuzzles into the side of your face, his pretty white teeth skipping along your neck, nipping and nibbling.

“I want you to fuck me,” you whisper after mere seconds, finally submitting in this cat and mouse game, “Bucky, please.”

That’s all he needs— all he wants. For you to submit, after letting you have the reins for one day too long. He sinks into you slow, spreading you open with each inch, biting down into the side of your neck as he bottoms out. His teeth dig in a little deeper, a little harder as he starts to move, rocking back and forth almost succinct with the waves of the water.

You’re moving with him too, meeting each of his thrusts with your hips. You keep your legs tight around his waist, feet dangling and bouncing against the back of his thighs. A trail of hot kisses are pressed along your neck and down your shoulder before traipsing back up— teeth grazing along your jaw.

Long fingers skip up your side and between your bouncing tits to only wrap around your neck again. They squeeze, gently, as his pace starts to pick up, hips shoving harder and faster— that old barrel starting to scrape against the wood floor.

The force makes you louder, moaning with abandon as if the two of you are all alone on this little ferry. Bucky makes quick work of you, shoving metal fingers into your mouth— giving you something to suck on to keep you quiet.

“That’s a good girl.” he growls, voice gritty and low.

He’s punishing after that. Each snap of his hips thrusting you backward, the barrel you’re on top of tipping back and then slapping down on the floor. You yelp with each one, your mouth going slack around his digits as your hands fall to the edges of the barrel for some semblance of balance.

It’s obscene, the way you can hear your fuck. The wet of your cunt. The squeak of his cock plunging into tight, slick muscles. The heavy thud of his hips pounding into yours. The slap of your flip flops falling to the wood floor as he’s quite literally fucked them right off of your feet. It’s filthy— crude— and so very Bucky.

You’re back on your feet before you know it— before you realize it. Spun back around, Bucky’s hard chest and stomach pressed into your back. He grabs both of your hands and places them back on the barrel, his metal hand staying on top of yours, fingers gripping fingers.

Eager hips wiggle back into his as you hiss and sink your teeth into your bottom lip, groaning low. Your head drops when you feel his cock push through your ass cheeks— wet cockhead pressing against your hot rim.

He starts to fumble around behind you, each passing second making you more and more impatient. There’s a soft click, and then a light suction sound— something squeezing.

“Bucky,” you hiss, pushing back into him again, “Hur—”

The word breaks off right in the middle as he levels a quick smack against your hip— a warning. Then your ass cheeks are pulled apart, wet, slimy fingers sliding and prodding at your quivering rim. He brushes slow strokes, circling, pressing his fingers gently as he preps your little hole for what’s to come.

“What kind of freak brings lube to dinner?” you smile, gasping as he pinches the inside of your thigh.

You lurch forward when he grabs the back of your neck and yanks you back into him, lips right against your cheek, “The kinda freak that was gonna fuck you in an alley after dinner. Now shut that mouth.”

He’s pressing again, this time harder, his cockhead popping into you with force. You grunt with the initial intrusion, Bucky stopping his assault to allow you time to adjust to him— but that doesn’t last long. Your mouth goes slack again. Eyes slam shut, head falls forward as he slips in, deeper and deeper and deeper until his stomach is flush with your ass.

He wiggles— so you can feel him, feel him tickling the deepest part of you. Slaps at your ass again, quick, fingers glancing off your skin and leaving behind a hell of a sting. Then he’s fucking you again, slower this time, savoring the tight, glove-like hold your body provides.

Metal fingers grab at the hem of your dress again, tugging it up before they push back into your panties, finding a swollen, hot nub. Pinching and rubbing smooth circles against it, flicking and thrashing at the bundle of nerves before he shoves his fingers back into your cunt. They curl, those fingers, and pet your insides with surgical precision— only James Buchanan Barnes knows how to fuck you like this.

The heel of his palm slams against your clit as he fingers you rough and fucks your ass with gusto. Sleazy sounds gurgle up in your throat, the slapping of skin and the waves crashing against the side of the ferry, the rush of the wind filling your ears. Bucky pulls you flush against him and slithers his tongue just beneath your ear before his teeth grab a hold, tugging soft.

Teeth keep nipping— along your jaw, your cheeks, ears, neck. He fucks into you hard as he shoves his flesh hand into the neckline of your dress, gripping your tits. Pinching and kneading hard, thick nipples, mumbling sweet nothings all the while.

Your stomach churns, muscles tensing and flexing as synapses start to fire off in quick succession. Quick goosebumps pop up along your skin as your stomach tightens and you can taste it it’s so close. Bucky knows it, feels it as your walls constrict around his fingers, your asshole tightening around him. Vibranium fingers keep rubbing, keep fucking into your pussy hard, palm slapping against your clit, adding more and more pressure until the coil snaps.

It’s hard, and sudden— your body freezing as your orgasm consumes you. Bucky clamps a wet hand over your mouth as you mewl and bite into his palm, your hips thrusting forward with each wave of your release. He pulls his fingers from you to slap at your jumping clit, pressing the pads into it before he rubs quick little circles and then slaps at it again.

He drops his hand to your chin, yanking it up as you nearly cry, mewling and trembling with your release to kiss you hard and sloppy as you come. He kneads your tits with his mammoth hand as aftershocks flash through you, your used body jerking at random. Within seconds, there's a cloud of warmth in your ass. Rough grunts in your ear, growing louder with each spurt of his cock, your hot muscles milking him.

You let him use you, let him fill you up full of his silk. Grab his hands and lace your fingers with his as he empties long ribbons in you. Pull his arms around your waist and hold them there as he rides it out, his head falling to your shoulder. The two of you stand there, resting against that old barrel, breathing hard, skin sticky and balmy. Salt from the ocean in your nose.

Bucky’s the first to pull away, glancing back at the stairs before he pulls himself gingerly from you, leaving your body empty, a dribble of his come slipping out with him. He catches it with his fingers, drags them up the back of your thigh and between your ass cheeks before he shrugs out of his collared shirt and white tank top.

He cleans you up sweet with the tank top. Keeps his arm around your waist to steady you as he wipes at your thighs and your hot, sticky, puffy cunt, shushing you soft when you jump and whimper at the contact. He flings the messy tank top over the side of the ferry and rubs your hips and stomach real slow, murmuring into your ear all the while.

Diligent fingers then rearrange your thong— and cop a little feel, cupping your sensitive, swollen sex, giving it a little pinch so he can laugh when you shiver and squeak. Bucky pulls your dress, tugging lightly to get it back straight around your waist before smoothing it over your ass and thighs— even pulls at the top, making sure your tits are sitting pretty.

You can’t even open your eyes, overcome by alcohol and sleepiness and a post sex high. He fumbles with your fingers as your head lulls on his shoulder, a soft hum vibrating in your throat in your murky haze. Bucky lifts your arm by the elbow, sliding his hand up your forearm until he’s cupping your hand in his.

“Open your eyes, baby.” You groan in protest, causing a chuckle to rumble through his chest, “Come on.”

So you do. You always do whatever this man wants you to do— and there, right on your finger sits that big princess cut engagement ring you teased him with days before.

“How about we skip dinner and find a church, huh?” he whispers, kissing your cheek soft and sweet.

You glance at him over your shoulder, eyes wet as a smirk tugs at the corners of your mouth, “And if I say no?”

“You just can’t help yourself, can you?” He laughs as you adjust in his arms, pushing up on your tiptoes to cup his handsome face and kiss him on those pretty pink lips, “Then I guess I’ll have to fuck some sense into that pretty mouth of yours, won’t I birthday girl?”

[erwinsvow]

𝐫𝐞𝐥𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐩𝐬 | 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐨𝐧 𝐭𝐢𝐭𝐚𝐧

author's note: sorry i just cannot stop writing headcanons! it's my favorite thing to write. i really hope everyone enjoys these, they include things from these two works of mine as well :) -shea

𝐣𝐞𝐚𝐧 𝐤𝐢𝐫𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐢𝐧

very much the involved boyfriend

once you guys finally start dating, he just immediately wants you guys to merge lives and share friends, even though that’s not a simple process

but it’s really because he cares about you so deeply he doesn’t want there to be a part of his life that you’re just not involved in

therefore; very involved

you guys manage your schedules together and plan out dinners and dates in advance

he mostly really likes having something to look forward too, like time with you

the kind of boyfriend that remembers little stuff you say here and there

like if you mention your mom’s birthday is coming up, he’ll ask later what you’re getting her and suggest some ideas. probably would send your mom flowers too to earn brownie points

or if you have a stressful week with exams and papers, he’ll stop by randomly with coffee and a snack and a hug

i honestly don’t see jean as the kind of boyfriend to start/carry on a fight, because he would hate knowing that you two are upset with each other. so i think any fights would be resolved pretty quickly

if one did happen to go over night or last a few days, he would definitely apologize first and bring you flowers, even if you were the one who started it

honestly though, with a guy like jean, what is there to fight about

overall, just a super caring boyfriend that makes the little stuff the memorable stuff

𝐚𝐫𝐦𝐢𝐧 𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐞𝐫𝐭

the! best! boyfriend! ever!

i see armin as the ideal caring boyfriend

he just really likes to have someone to take care of, and he is also really touched that someone trusts him enough to ensure their heart to him

so he takes every measure to make sure he’s being the best partner he can be

a lot of emotional sharing, and i feel like would happen pretty early on as well

only because he is so trustworthy and you know you can tell him everything on your mind, even stuff that you maybe haven’t told anyone else

this just makes your relationship progress even further. you two are the couple that has been dating for a month but knows they are going to be together for a long time

speaking of, you are the mom and the dad of the friend group, which is so adorable but calls for a lot of teasing from your friends

but armin knows he’s going to marry you one day, so he just laughs when eren cracks another joke about it

𝐫𝐞𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐫 𝐛𝐫𝐚𝐮𝐧

i’ll be real, this relationship is definitely not the easiest

reiner definitely loves you, don’t get me wrong, but a big part of him probably thinks he doesn’t deserve someone like you to care about him

which isn’t easy in a relationship because i feel like he would try and distance himself from getting too attached in the beginning

maybe he just thinks you’re going to see through him and realize you don’t want this anymore (which is not true at all, but just his intrusive thoughts)

i think you would try to reassure him about your feelings and how much you want this relationship, but then he feels like you shouldn’t have to reassure him, and that you shouldn’t be in the kind of relationship where you have to reassure the person. basically he thinks you deserve someone better, and you know that there is no one better for you

eventually i think this reaches a breaking point. through a lot of angst and honesty and tears, you two finally work it out

i think after clearing things up, things take a huge turn for the better

he definitely learns that there’s nothing wrong with being a relationship where you have to take care of each other, and he’s definitely thankful that you continued to stand by him

so sorry about this angst, but on the bright side, this man would be such a devoted boyfriend

his friends definitely make fun of him for looking at you like you hung the stars and moon in the sky

i also think all this angst would lead to you two being really open and vulnerable with each other, which is really important to him

also definitely a mama’s boy and can’t wait to introduce you to her

just like armin, he knows you’re gonna be his wife someday

𝐞𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐲𝐞𝐚𝐠𝐞𝐫

even though i think it would take eren a long time to settle down and commit to a healthy, long-term relationship, once he does, he would be a great boyfriend

he is a really caring guy, and i feel like part of his hesitance is about opening up to someone if they’re just gonna leave

but i think he can tell early on that this would be different

i have a feeling his love language is quality time, and so you two are always planning little things together

he especially loves last-minute, impromptu dates that arise from a random thought

like he’ll grab two sandwiches and take you to the beach at sunset, even if you just got home or had something to get done

or knock on your door at midnight and take you to the nearest roof to stargaze together

i feel like eren is the boyfriend who becomes your closest friend over time

you guys go to each other first when you need to rant or talk or babble endlessly

it’s an interesting dynamic but it works well for you guys

the kind of bf that people assume he’s a single bachelor and will stay that way forever, or people don’t believe that he’s settled down, and then when they see you two together they’re shocked

𝐦𝐚𝐫𝐜𝐨 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐭

you and marco have the most wholesome relationship

if i had to picture anyone whose relationship feels like the honeymoon phase even after a whole year, it is marco

he has a habit of making every small date, every meeting or interaction just feel so special, like every day is a special occasion

the kind of boyfriend who gets you a promise ring early on with every intention of replacing it with an engagement ring and wedding band one day

a big moment for him is introducing you to his friends! he knows they’ll love you, and he just wants you to meet the other most important people in his life

especially you and jean, this boy would be on cloud nine seeing you two get along so well. makes him super happy and teary-eyed

the responsible bf who takes care of everything for you, even little, everyday things so you don’t have to worry about it

like making sure there’s a cup of water on the nightstand when you go to bed, or setting an extra alarm to make sure you don’t oversleep, or reminding you about a deadline

overall just <3 boyfriend marco

𝐥𝐞𝐯𝐢 𝐚𝐜𝐤𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐧

the nonchalant, cool boyfriend who has to hide how sappy he actually is

pretends like he’s not nervous as all hell on your first date. acts like you leaning into him on the walk back home, or kissing his cheek at your doorstep before you say good night isn’t giving him heart palpitations.

also majorly touch-starved. after you two really open up to each other, which happens way sooner than he expected, it’s hard for him to keep his hands away from you.

he’s reserved in public, a simple arm around you waist or hands interlaced while you guys are out

but when you’re in the privacy of your home, it’s almost instinctual for him to pull you close

he loves when you lay your head on his chest, but nothing compares to when you let him lay his head on yours.

you stroke his hair and sit in silence, appreciating the quiet mumble of the television and the sound of each other breathing

always falls asleep like this, and he’s never been much of a nap guy, but ever since he met you, he’s reformed

not to mention your skin is always so warm and soft, and his is always on the colder side, so he’s just drawn to you

also i see him as the kind of guy who proposes out of nowhere, like you aren’t expecting it at all after a quiet dinner together at home, you’re getting up to grab dessert and he pulls out a ring

“how about dessert and naps for as long as we both shall live?”

𝐩𝐨𝐫𝐜𝐨 𝐠𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐢𝐚𝐫𝐝

once again, pock tries to put on a tough facade but we all know he’s just a softie on the inside

in fact, it’s a little while into your relationship that you notice him softening up with you, trying less hard to seem like someone else and getting more comfortable around you

you definitely don’t mention it, because you don’t want him to realize how you’ve been noticing it lately, but it definitely makes your chest feel warm and fuzzy at the thought of him being more himself

it’s not long at all before you can’t even see any semblance of that tough guy you met for the first time

the kind of whipped boyfriend that carries your bags when you go shopping, grabs your coffee order on the way to visit you, and likes to have quiet nights in more than going out

your favorite memories with him include watching rom-coms and munching on popcorn in his apartment, everyone else out and about on a saturday night

the leftover pizza is sitting on the counter, and you turn to go put it away when you notice pock teary-eyed at the movie!

yes, this boy cries at sappy romantic movies and you regret ever putting on the notebook that one night because you wanted to get laid after and that just did not happen because he was crying too much

but also just treats you so right and has every intention of being the best boyfriend he can, doesn’t ever want to do anything to hurt you and is highkey very glad he met you and has someone to be so open and comfortable with!

𝐛𝐞𝐫𝐭𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐭 𝐡𝐨𝐨𝐯𝐞𝐫

can you spell boyfriend material.

the most comforting, wholesome boyfriend in the world. you actually can’t believe he’s single when you guys meet for the first time, because there’s just no way.

this is the take him home to meet your parents guy, introduce him to your friends right away guy because you know it’s serious

i talked about how bertholdt is the bf who just listens to your talks and rambles for as long as you need to, and always offers advice and sweet words, but he really does take it to the next level

lets you cry it out when you need to, rubbing your back and hair softly and not minding when his shirt is covered in tears

or alternatively lets you rant about your annoying professor or a terribly rude stranger or whatever else is plaguing your mind today

texts you every day asking how you’re doing, always calls you before bed if you guys aren’t together

he just has the ability to make you feel so heard and seen

and of course you never forget to take care of him, as well. it makes for a really comfortable dynamic.

very easy to imagine spending the rest of your life with him despite the fact that he has kicked you off the bed multiple times in his sleep

𝐞𝐫𝐰𝐢𝐧 𝐬𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐡

alternatively, husband material

takes all of five minutes into having a conversation with him to realize this is a responsible, mature guy

which are usually far and few between

i’d like to think he’s similar to marco in the way that he likes to make sure things are taken care for you, he likes to get things off of your shoulders even though you feel like you should be doing it for him instead

this translates to a lot of checking in phone calls, making sure you’ve eaten dinner and haven’t skipped meals because of your busy schedule

always makes time for you and especially loves having date nights every saturday, it’s wonderful when you haven’t been able to see him all week

anyways, you get engaged and married so fast bc you just had to snatch him up

[beyondspaceandstars]

congratulations! 📚 could you do promos 4 & 7 from the smut with Natasha Romanoff???

by the way, I hope you have a great day/night!

Brat

Relationship: CEO!Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, fingering, dirty talk - 18+, minors DNI

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N: I went a bit CEO!Natasha with this one - hope that’s okay, I thought it lent well! Also, thank you! I hope you're having a nice day/night as well :)

Masterlist

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

You really didn’t want to go and Natasha knew this but she was also quite the persuasive one, having such a dominance to her that you could rarely, if ever, say no to.

So, that’s how you found yourself a bit grumpily sitting in the car passenger seat while your girlfriend drove you two to whatever charity banquet this was.

Natasha was constantly getting these invitations being the high-up, fancy CEO that she was and usually you were fine with them. You liked the little appetizers and flutes of champagne. You especially liked your girlfriend parading you around, showing you off to fancy city people.

But tonight just wasn’t the night for you. You had had a ridiculous day at your own job and frankly, you just wanted to lounge around with your girl, maybe order pizza, and have lazy sex. Natasha had shut down your idea, saying she already RSVP’d for you two. Grudgingly, you shoved yourself into a dress and let her whisk you away

Little did she know, though, that you weren’t letting down easily. You had some potential ideas for the night, hoping that maybe — just maybe — you can rile Natasha up enough to keep her focus just on you and not the millionaires trying to network.

Upon arriving at the event, you hunted down the first tray of champagne you could find, taking a swig of the alcohol promptly. Natasha followed your path, stopping every now and then to chat, but once she was free of the schmoozing, she marched right towards you. An arm made it was tightly around your waist.

"What is your problem?" She gritted in your ear just below a whisper so no one could pick up on the tension. Your eyes darted around the room

"Nothing," you responded, taking another sip of champagne.

Natasha scoffed. "Well, you’re acting like a brat." She grabbed your glass out of your hand. You gasped but before you could protest, Natasha asked, "Is this because I made you come here tonight?

You shot her a look before taking back your champagne and finishing it off. "I’m gonna go get another drink."

Before your girlfriend could pull you back to her, you were already on a rampage for the bar. Luckily, no one tried to stop you. Thanks to your relations with Natasha, you had worked up a bit of your own status but it wasn’t like anyone genuinely cared. You weren’t negotiating deals.

You leaned on the bar and signaled for the bartender. You asked for something a little stronger. He nodded politely and got to making the drink. You turned your attention to the freshly polished wood of the bar.

Running a finger over it carelessly as you waited, out of the corner of your eye you noticed someone approach beside you. It was a man you somehow didn’t recognize. He looked very well put-together, almost like he was trying too hard, with his designer pressed suit and hair that could go up in flames from all the product in it.

You tried to ignore him, turning your attention to the bartender who was still at work, but it was hard when the man was not-so-subtly inching towards you. This wasn’t going to go very well, you thought. But you weren’t stopping it.

"In need of something to get you through the night?" The man suddenly asked. Your gaze shot over to him.

"Excuse me?"

He chuckled, "I meant the drink."

As if on cue, a glass was placed right in front of you. You wrapped your hands around it, slowly bringing it to your lips for a sip as you eyed the stranger. He was watching you quite intensely.

You hummed, delighted by the cocktail. "These things can sometimes be…draining."

He sighed. "Tell me about it."

The conversation fell into a lull. You tried glancing around at the other patrons, all completely oblivious to the bar, but just couldn’t shake this man and his eyes which were still watching you. They shamelessly took in the curves of your dress and even lingered a bit on your chest.

Your stomach dropped as you suddenly saw him step even closer, his finger lightly brushing your arm in the process. You froze but still made no chance to dash away. Maybe your goal of annoying your girlfriend tonight was going a bit too far…

"You know," he began, his voice dangerously low, "if you wanted to sneak away for a bit—"

"She doesn’t," Natasha gritted as she suddenly approached you two. You just about let out a sigh of relief as her arm came around your waist, pulling you into her side. You yelped at the action, stumbling a bit, but she held you tight.

The mystery man looked you two over, a bit of a pleased expression graced his face. But he didn’t press further, probably very deterred by the daggers Natasha’s eyes were shooting at him. He collected his drink from the bar and raised it at you two as if in some awkward toast.

"Fair enough, ladies," he said, and then he was back in the crowd, lost in the sea of aristocrats.

You didn’t know what to do now, opting to stare down at your drink.

"What the hell was that about?" Natasha asked.

"I- He just came up to me," you pouted.

Natasha shook her head in disappointment as she began walking you two away from everyone else. You didn’t know where she was leading you until you were roughly pulled into the women’s restroom. It was empty, thankfully, and you heard the turn of the lock as you placed your drink on the counter.

"He just came up to you," Natasha repeated. She was sauntering over, looking very much more like some powerful CEO than your sweet girlfriend. You gulped and gripped the edge of the bathroom sink. "He may have came up to you but I didn’t see you making any moves to walk away."

"Well—"

"And you let him touch you," she scoffed. "Don’t think I didn’t see his fingers on your fucking arm." For emphasis, she gripped the spot he had brushed over. You yelped. "What made you think he could do that, hmm? What, did you forget who you belong to?"

"No, Natasha, I didn’t mean—" You pleaded but she wasn’t buying it.

"I’m not buying it," she said as she roughly turned you around, her back pressing your front into the bathroom counter. "In fact, I think you need a little reminder."

You held your breath in anticipation as Natasha began gathering the skirt of your dress. You knew what she was going to find underneath. And you certainly knew it wasn’t going to help your case.

Sure enough, once your lower region was exposed, Natasha let out a gasp. “No panties? Are you kidding me right now?!”

"Natasha, please—"

"You really are a fucking brat, aren’t you?"

You tried shaking your head but it was no use. Her mind was made as she pressed into you even more, her hand now coming to caress your inner thigh. You whimpered out your girlfriend’s name as her fingers began slowly circling your clit. She chuckled in your ear before collecting some of the wetness dripping from your folds and putting attention back on your clit.

"So wet for me," Natasha murmured. "It is for me, right? Or did that man out there get you dripping like a needy slut?"

You groaned, captivated by the action happening between your thighs. "Just for you," you said as your eyes slowly fluttered. Natasha picked up the pace adding slight pressure as well. You squealed.

"That’s it," she whispered, holding you tighter around the waist. "That’s my girl."

Suddenly, though, she moved her fingers back to your folds where, without warning, she shoved two fingers inside you. You yelped, twisting in her grip. She didn’t even budge. You cried out as the fingers flicked upwards, hitting just the right spots.

"If you want to act like a slut you have to deal with being fingered like one, got it?" Natasha said. Her mouth was practically on your ear, she was whispering so lowly it sent goosebumps up your arms. She was pissed and serious. You were loving it.

"Y-Yes, Natasha." You barely managed to get the words out but your girlfriend seemed very pleased. Her fingers picked up — significantly. A squelching noise now filled the bathroom, coming directly from your wetness which was not stopping any time soon it seemed. Natasha was also taking the moment to make sure her hand was hitting your clit. With every single pump. It was getting overwhelming very, very fast.

You spoke again, "Please, please… I’m gonna cum."

"Yeah?" Natasha mocked. "My little slut needs to cum?"

You nodded your head profusely. "Please, please." The begging was becoming second nature at this point, your only instinct. Natasha seemed very pleased with that.

"Fine," she huffed. "Cum all over my fingers you greedy little girl. And you better scream when you cum. I want every single person, especially that man, to know who’s treating you so well."

Her paced picked up even more (how that was possible you didn’t know) and your body reacted wonderfully. Within moments, you were crumbling like a house of cards. Your orgasm rushed over you as you cried out much louder than you had actually intended. You couldn’t stop as Natasha continued to work you through the orgasm. She didn’t give up until you were limp in her arms.

She chuckled, watching your body practically collapse from pleasure. "Was that good, honey?"

"Yes," you mumbled, leaning into her body. Natasha fixed your dress and brought her hand to caress your cheek.

"Good," she said and placed a quick kiss on your lips. "Maybe that’ll teach you to behave."

Now it was your turn to laugh. "Why would I behave when that’s what I get for being bad?"

Abruptly, Natasha’s hand came around your neck, forcing you to look at her. Her gaze was dark, her CEO stance still very much engaged. "Don’t even tempt me."

You bit your lip teasingly but nodded your head slowly. You certainly didn’t mean it, though, already secretly planning the next time you could ruffle her feathers.

[inriospocket]

last request for now i promise! i love the idea of y/n as rio’s girlfriend meeting his family for the first time officially as his girl after he feels like she’s the one. she encounters nick and he ends up asking rio if she could be his plus at a charity benefit and rio’s just like “nah.” and then nick says “always taking what i want” which is what i think he says in the scene while they’re eating in the bar? SO NOW as the family trying

*ask continued* to eat, make small talk, and find out how in the hell rio could have landed home girl, he’s hella protectively jealous now especially since his girl and brother/cousin whatever tf is having a charming conversation and rio’s just seething 🙃. also the idea of this moment seeping into a few days of rio only being cordial with her and keeping her at bay /being assertive to her @ work intrigues me especially if either nick stops by their shared home since he knows it’ll get on rio nerves/or he catches y/n trying out dresses with the notion of attending this event with nick bc she doesn’t underdtand the big deal (+she likes when rio’s possessive but obvi not like this?) and rio’s mad mad but not at her😅. feel free to do whatever you’d like with this. it mostly sounds like angst and possessiveness so can you mush everything together if it’s easier for you.

-

❀❤ enjoy!!

word count ♡ 1,237

summary ♡ Rio finally takes reader to meet his family but tensions rise as Nick invites reader to a charity benefit.

warnings: possessiveness, aggressive behavior, fighting

situation ♡ angsty

-

You could already see how tight-knit his family was when you and Rio both walked into his grandma’s house. So much laughter and shared conversations. It eased your nervousness until they started staring once you walked in.

You started to feel a bit insecure but Rio knew they were just staring at how beautiful you were. As cocky as he was, even a little part of him wondered how he got you.

“Close your mouths before flies get in!” You heard an older woman coming from the kitchen. You saw the resemblance between her and Rio and figured this was his grandma.

You smiled when she first came up to Rio and kissed his cheek before hugging you next. “You must be Y/N. It’s so nice to meet you, carino.”She smiled.

“Likewise.” You hugged her back.

Before sitting down for dinner, Rio introduced you to everyone individually, letting you get comfortable.

You started to connect all the characteristics that Rio had to his family. There was a lot of subtle influences but you finally figured out why Rio was the way he was.

Nick.

“You’re not going to introduce me?” Nick asked Rio, smiling towards you. You could feel the tension coming from Rio.

“Y/N, Nick. My cousin.” He said, reaching for the bowl with the rice.

“Brother.” He corrected, giving him a cold stare.

“Cousin.” Rio corrected again, dumping a ladle full of rice on your plate.

“Nice to meet you.” You said, trying to ignore the quiet battle between the two.

You continued answering questions that everyone had for you. What you did, where you met, etcetera.

“Oh, you’re a councilman.” You said to Nick after he was discussing a city issue that no one could seem to solve.

“I am.” He said, noticing your intrigue. You started to engage yourself in the conversation, giving pointers on the issue that no one had thought of yet.

Rio was proud that you had so much knowledge and insight about every topic but he knew Nick and this conversation made him seethe. He hated that everything he had, whoever he had, Nick always wanted it.

“I like this one, Rio,” Nick laughed.

Rio narrowed his eyes at him. “Yeah, I do too.” He said and you could feel the tension rising again.

“Say, Y/N. There’s a charity benefit next weekend. Why don’t you come?” Nick asked. He was charming, you noticed. Too charming and you realized that there was an underlying evil lurking.

“Oh, um...” You didn’t know what to say. You were so taken aback that he would make a subtle pass at you in front of Rio.

“Always want what I have, huh?” Rio pursed his lips. You saw Rio’s grandma shake her head subtly.

“Always get it too.” Nick smiled.

The next couple of days following and you noticed Rio distancing himself from you but also being unusually possessive.

“Rio, it’s just a benefit. Your grandma even asked if we were going to be there.” You said, placing the call on speaker while you tried on another dress.

“I’m not going to that shit and you aren’t either.” He said, his tone letting you know how serious he was.

You rolled your eyes. “What’s up with you? Your grandma’s expecting us so we’re going Rio.” You said showing him that you can be serious.

“I’m not going to say it again.” He said, getting more upset.

“You’re not my dad, Rio.” You shook your head as he laughed in response.

“That’s not what you were saying the other night.” You could hear his smirk through the phone and kissed your teeth.

“I’ll see you when you get home.” You said before ending the call.

You examined the dress in the mirror and decided to just take it off but before you could, you heard a knock at the door.

You hurried to open it and was taken aback to see Nick standing there. He made a quick glance at the way the dress hugged you before you said something.

“What are you doing here?” You asked.

You noticed how Rio’s smirk was not just a him thing. It ran in the family and also meant that Nick was up to no good.

“Just picking up a package.” He said as he invited himself in, scanning the room around you.

“Oh, well Rio isn’t home right now.” You said, closing the door behind him.

He didn’t seem to mind waiting and you started to wonder what his ulterior motive was. “Oh, the issue we were discussing the other night. What you said surprisingly worked.” He told you.

You smiled proudly and you were just about to say something before you heard the door open indicating Rio was home.

You felt the tension in the room similar to the other day. Rio hid it as much as he could but he wanted so badly to put his hands on Nick. His house, his girlfriend. Everything sacred to him belonged here and Nick still found a way to weasel in.

You told Rio he was here to pick up a package.

“I told you I would give it to you myself." Rio said, dropping his keys. “Well, I was in the neighborhood.” He smiled.

"Your business is on the other side of town.” He said, not buying his story. “Like I said, I’ll give you the package.” He said, emphasizing that it was time for him to go.

Nick laughed to himself and walked to the door to leave. He turned towards you.

“You should go with the red.” He said, hinting towards one of the dresses you tried on. You already saw it coming but you were too far away to stop it.

You flinched once you saw the punch landing on Nick’s jaw.

“Rio!” You called before Nick threw a punch back near his eye. You contemplated how you were going to try to stop their fighting.

You knew it was a possibility of you getting hurt but you tried your best to put your body between them to stop their fists.

“Stop now! Stop!” You yelled, trying to push Rio away. Luckily, they had enough self-control to make sure they wouldn’t hit you and stopped.

“Nick, leave.” You told him. He shook his head while holding his jaw.

“You’re gonna regret that.” He said once more before he left for good.

You pushed Rio, visibly upset with him. “What’s wrong with you?!” You yelled again.

“Y/N, Nick is not trying to hear your opinions on gun control. Dude’s showing up to my crib knowing I’m not home, trying to get you to some charity benefit because he wants you.” He explained, wincing at the soreness in his face.

“I don’t see the big deal.” You said and walked to the freezer to get an ice pack.

“I know you ain’t slow, Y/N.” He said feeling like you weren’t even listening.

You walked back over to him and held the ice to his face, holding it there. “I don’t see how it’s a big deal when you and I both know he can’t have me. You’re so wrapped up in your head that you don’t even realize he’s already succeeding in pissing you off.” You said.

You could see Rio’s defeat. “Yeah, exactly. Look at you.” You rolled your eyes at his blackening eye.

“Sounds like you might be the slow one, dumbass.” You laughed.

[stutterfly]

Swipe Right 04 | Patch Notes | JJK (M)

Rating: M (Explicit 18+)

Pairings: Jungkook x Reader, brot7 x friendship

Genre: E2L, fluff, angst, humor, [eventual] smut, PersonalTrainer!Jungkook, fuckboy!Jungkook, Nerd!Jungkook, Nerd/IT!Reader

Word Count: 15.1K

Last time on SR03: You joined a gym to increase your confidence and things progressed the way you want with your tinder match. You ended up in an unlikely competition with your friends when you went new bar together, leading to some unexpected conversations and shenanigans.

CW & Other Tags: Drinking, anxiety/panic attack mentions, muscle tearing injury mention, fuckboy Jungkook, pining, flirting, pick-up lines, sexual tension, Joonie is still Y/N’s best boi, soft Jungkook

Series: Activate your SIMCard

Fic: Swipe Right (4/?- Ongoing)

Do not repost.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

When’s the last time you felt as good as you do right now? Jungkook has pretty much stopped bothering you since that night at Seesaw, your date with Jason went well, and you’ve been sticking to your early morning workouts. You definitely don’t push yourself as much as trainer Hwasa, and you know you should really take advantage of the free trial, but it was overwhelming to take in so much at once and the session made you sore all over for days.

At least your stamina seems to be improving and you’ve discovered post-workout endorphins are real. Tonight is your second date with Jason, a date you’ve uncharacteristically elected to host at your apartment. You can place some blame on those endorphins for your boldness, with pining and disappointment composing the rest of it.

While your first date ended without a kiss, there was enough flirting to keep you hopeful. Neither of you were brave enough to do anything about it then, but you’ve mentally coached yourself into pretending like you have an unbreakable spine with nerves of steel. Meeting him only solidified your attraction, and you’ve resolved to take the lead, even though you feel like you have no idea what you’re doing.

It’s not like you often make the first move, but your confidence in him to do so has waned. You’ve been talking and playing games together online for months without any physical touch. Despite how he’s said he likes you and wants to see you again, you’d still be waiting if you didn’t suggest today.

You’re determined to show him what he’s missing by being a recluse. That’s why you’ve picked out the sluttiest clothes and the strappiest heels you own, decorated your face with expensive makeup, and even styled your hair instead of just letting it do whatever it wants for the day. You check yourself out in the full-length mirror on your bedroom door for the millionth time and pull down on the hem of your dress like it will somehow magically grow longer.

You don’t need the heels; no part of the night calls for them. You’re going to be sitting on the couch with him. If you’re lucky you’ll even move it to the bedroom you spent so much time cleaning. But they’re cute and they make you feel sexy, so you’re going to keep them on until he’s peeling you out of your dress.

Nerves bubble in your stomach, but you have to pretend like they’re not there or you’ll fixate on how hard you’re trying to be confident and cool. You’ll fall apart when it’s obvious to Jason how hard you’re pretending to be everything you aren’t. Checking your phone doesn’t help; it’s almost time.

Taking a deep breath, you pace through the confines of your apartment as you wait, and answer group texts from Jennie and Namjoon. You offer up a selfie, hoping any compliments will build your confidence enough to stave off the anxiety in your gut. A few devil emojis later, some keysmashing, and more than a couple hamfisted compliments from Namjoon, your ego is adequately inflated but you can always use more hyping. Maybe you should send it to Jimin to fish for more compliments? He’d indulge you for sure.

Instead you flop on the couch and open Tinder. According to Jennie, Jason is stringing you along; it’s been months, but you hate to admit that she has a point. So you don’t. She’s been telling you for a while now that she thinks you should pursue other suitors. While you object to her assumptions, she has more experience with this kind of stuff. It’s not exactly something you want to believe, not when you’ve put in so much effort for literal months.

You want to believe in Jason being awkward and dorky and that’s why it’s taken so long for the two of you to hook up. He’s shy and super introverted, but so are you. So why are you the only one trying to make things happen? You want to believe, but at this point you’re uncertain enough to heed Jennie’s advice and keep swiping any time you find yourself in a situation where you’re waiting on him. Like now.

You have your reservations about swiping while you wait for your date to begin, but you can practically hear Jennie cheering you on. He’s late anyway, and it will keep you busy until he arrives. You open the discovery tab and swipe left on a couple incomplete profiles. Most of the guys on here don’t put in any effort. How are you supposed to want to give any of them a chance when you don’t even get a tiny snapshot of who they are?

When you pass on yet another fish pic profile, a blue frame appears around the next guy in line. It takes a moment for your brain to register the name along with the duck-faced photo as someone familiar.

[Jungkook said: Your legs remind me of oreos 🥴 wanna know why?]

How fucking dare he? You match with the intent to ream him out and leave.

You: I told you not to fucking find me on here

It takes only a few seconds before you see the dots move on his end, like he was waiting for the moment you would answer, and it keeps you tethered to the conversation.

Jungkook: Princess!! I couldn’t help myself how are you

Jungkook: Surprised you didn’t block me

You: Don’t worry I’m gonna

Jungkook: it’s bc you wanna know huh

You: ???

Jungkook: Your legs

Jungkook: Like oreos

Jungkook: I wanna split them n lick the cream from the center 😜

Electricity rumbles in your gut, carrying heat and a surge of excitement to your cunt that threatens to flood your panties. You swallow hard and squeeze your thighs together as you stare at the screen. Embarrassed by the response his antics elicit, you scramble to formulate a coherent thought.

You: I wish I could unread 🤢

Jungkook: Aw but that’s one of my favorites

Jungkook: Just like you 😘

You: 🙄

You: I hate you so much

Jungkook: So much that you matched with me?

You stare at the message like a clever response will come to you and when it doesn’t you bite your lip. He’s got a point. Haven’t you learned your lesson not to encourage him? Your eyes scan the top of your phone for any notifications from Jason. Nothing. At least this is keeping you distracted. That’s what you tell yourself.

Jungkook: You’re still here which means 👀

You: It means I’m tired

Jungkook: Of?

You pause for a moment. Namjoon and Jennie can’t know how anxious you are about Jason. It’s the guy’s last strike with them and he hasn’t even met them yet. Jungkook, an impartial third party, might be able to lend an ear. As much as you don’t care what he thinks, you need an outlet for the anxiety in your chest. You start to draft a word-vomit. Jason has been so hesitant to see you in person again and now he’s late. Maybe if you just put it out there to someone you’ll feel better.

Jungkook: If you need to sleep how about a massage?

Jungkook: I’m good with my fingers 🥴

Stupid. In what universe could you confide in Jungkook? Deleting your word-vomit before you can send it, you start to type something else, but your thumb accidentally taps enter at the exact wrong moment.

You: You know what? I want you

FUCK. Goddamn you, sausage fingers.

You scramble to rewrite the sentence but Jungkook is quicker. He has to know it was an accident, but you’re still fucking mortified.

Jungkook: 😈

Jungkook: My place

Jungkook: Ten minutes

You: *to stay off my profile

Jungkook: 👉👌?

You: YOU KNOW I DIDN’T MEAN THAT

You: 🤢🤢🤢

Jungkook: 😩

Jungkook: Now you’re just playing games with me princess

Jungkook: Can’t say I mind just fuck me up 🥴

You: Don’t you have a princess to fuck in another castle? Maybe she can stroke your tiny ego

Jungkook: Ouch felt that from here

He goes quiet and you close the conversation out. Setting the phone down on the cushion beside you lasts all of two seconds. When your phone buzzes twice, you know better than to answer, yet you feel compelled to look.

Jungkook: Hey quick question

Jungkook: Is this the most you’ve used the app to talk with someone you like? 👻

Just like that you unmatch with him and take a moment to seethe. Distraction or no, he’s not worth the mental energy. He always seems to draw you in like a pretty little thirst trap and drain you of your sanity. Not engaging is the safest option so why do you always end up doing so? Maybe it’s that shitty little part of you that gets excited any time he shows you attention.

There’s a gullible girl within you; she sets your pulse on fire when he feigns even the slightest interest, fills your head with wind when he brushes against you, and floods your eyes with tears when he walks away. Still, she wants him to look at you, even if it means he’s really looking through you. You hate her. Why can’t she learn that you deserve better?

You check the time again and wince. Jason is really late now. Not even a text. Or a phone call. Maybe it’s traffic?

Try to relax. Nothing bad is going to happen. You’re going to have fun tonight.

You start up a game to take your mind off the options available to explain his absence. When you’re invested in a game you often lose track of time, but tonight you’re hyper-aware of every minute that passes. You bite at your freshly painted nails during loading screens, chipping the red from their edges. Sounding casual is difficult when you’re worried, but you attempt it anyway via text. It’s ten more agonizing minutes of waiting before your phone buzzes with an answer.

The controller drops to your lap and immediately tears begin to sprinkle your thighs with the manifestation of your heartache.

He forgot.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

An earthy scent fills Namjoon’s apartment as he carefully transfers the last of his plants to a bigger pot, filling in the edges of its roots with fresh soil and patting the edges down with care. His plants have needed this, maybe even more than he needs the mini hangout that will soon follow. The kitchen table is covered in dirt, but at least he’s almost done.

It’s not his fault Jungkook showed up earlier than expected. At least he’s quiet now. It’s been a while, but he’s finally stopped asking about how much longer it will take, so he must either be invested in the show he put on or asleep on the couch.

“Almost done,” Namjoon loudly announces. “Can you text Tae?”

“Kay.” Jungkook yawns as he stands and heads towards the bathroom. “Jin was already cooking when I left so it should be ready soon.”

“Good. I’m hungry,” Namjoon says, carefully transporting the plant to the desk in his bedroom.

As he’s on his way to clean up the mess on the table there’s a soft rapid knock at the front door. The moment he opens it and finds you standing before him, he knows something is wrong. Even the ratty hoodie covering your shoulders can’t hide the effort you’ve obviously put into your appearance tonight. While your makeup seems to have fared rather well, your eyes are red and your cheeks are puffy. His mind automatically assumes the worst about your second date and his jaw tightens.

“What happened? Did he hurt you?”

“He never showed.” You throw your arms around him and openly sob.

“Oh, Y/N…” His arms are around you in an instant, hugging you close while keeping his dirty fingers at bay.

You press your cheek against his chest, letting the tears fall freely. “I’m sorry. I know you probably have plans tonight, but I wanted to stop here—” You choke out a loud sob and wipe your nose with your sleeve as you look down at the floor. “I didn’t want to drive upset but you weren’t answering and I just—”

“Shit. Exam today. I left it on silent.” He pats his pocket to make sure it’s still there, wiping as much dirt as he can on his jeans before placing his hands on your shoulders. “Hey, it’s okay. Deep breaths.”

Jungkook emerges from the bathroom quietly with a furrowed brow and pursed lips. Did he hear your voice or is it his imagination? Unsure if you’re some wishful remnant of earlier texts, he peeks around the corner.

Heels: black, strappy heels with a velvety smooth red undersole. Has he ever seen you in heels? If he has, it’s never been something as flashy as these. His gaze travels up the smooth, exposed skin of your legs until it hits the hem of a skirt. The dark fabric seems a little short; it clings to your thighs, riding up as you embrace his friend. It’s hard not to notice how well it accents the curve of your hips and more importantly: your ass. He’s definitely never seen you in something so revealing, not even on nights where you’ve joined them for dancing.

He pauses for a fraction of a second, eyes trained on the swell of your ass before moving up to find the disappointing sight of your favorite hoodie barring much else from view. Namjoon’s arms outline your shape, but the places his hands rest are far too respectable to glean much else other than simple blueprints.

With his dick leading his steps, Jungkook opens his mouth to announce his presence with a joke. He means to selfishly steal a glimpse of your entire ensemble with some snarky comment but you choke out a sob and his stomach lurches to form a whirlpool of apprehension. His mouth remains open, but his words are swallowed back into the dark swirling pit that now wrenches his gut in circles.

Namjoon looks up just in time to read the confusion and shock on his features. He shakes his head and cups yours against his chest, wordlessly signaling Jungkook to keep quiet.

“Is there anything I can do? Do you wanna talk about it?” Namjoon asks, hoping you don’t see the man behind you slowly backing away like he’s just approached a rabid animal.

You’re sobbing. Why are you sobbing? What happened? Was it what he said before you unmatched? Jungkook tiptoes back into the kitchen without a word. He leans against the counter and shoves his hands in his coat pockets, trying to piece everything together. Did he cause this?

You screw your eyes shut to try to keep the tears inside. It’s no use. They always seem to find a way out. “He didn’t show up and when I texted him, he… he said he forgot."

“What?"

“I thought it would be good after the arcade date, you know? Like, good chemistry. He’s weird. I like him! He seemed interested and we made these plans and he just—” you choke out another loud sob. “God. Am I really so fucking forgettable?”

You wanted your friends to be wrong so badly that you ignored the fact that it’s been like pulling teeth trying to get Jason to meet up again. For him to forget completely is like a kick to the face that leaves all the teeth intact, maybe a little bloody, but stubbornly intact.

“Y/N, no. It’s not your fault. You deserve better than this fucking guy.”

Jungkook swallows hard. This definitely doesn’t feel like a conversation he should be hearing, but it’s loud enough to carry through the entire apartment. Kitchen, bedroom, or bathroom: his options are limited, but he knows there’s nowhere to go to pretend like he can’t hear it. It’s not like he can just walk out the front door now.

“Do I? It’s seems like a fucking pattern, Joon. I fall for people so easily and they always make me feel like an idiot for trying. Donghyun. Seojun. Jason. Jungkook… It doesn’t matter. No one fucking wants me.”

Jungkook tenses. He may not know all the names on your list, but his is among them all the same. Has he really hurt you so much?

“Hey… Don’t think like that,” Namjoon says, his voice soft as he rubs your back. “You know your worth, and it’s not measured by how well someone else can see it.”

Every time you think you’re done crying, fresh tears begin to roll down your cheeks. “I’m tired, Joonie.”

“I know. I’m sorry. We'll get you home."

As you step back to look at him your ankle rolls, and you begin to fall. Hearing the scuffle, Jungkook winces and peeks around the corner. Namjoon has a good enough grip to stop you from fully tumbling to the floor, but you’re definitely not stable by any means.

Although you now face Jungkook, you’re too distracted by your ankle to notice the extra pair of eyes on you. He allows himself to stupidly linger within your line of sight, raking his gaze across your form to take in the details of your attire, right down to your choice of earrings. Even with a red nose and puffy, smudged eyes, the time you’ve spent on your appearance remains evident.

You did all that for some guy who didn’t even show? If that’s how you dress for your dates then his innocent perception of you is completely wrong. What kind of moron would pass up the opportunity to peel you out of that dress and dive into your cunt? You look incredible. What the fuck.

"God. Shit. Fuck! Fucking stupid heels!” You huff out your exasperation and let a small pitiful laugh pass your lips as you right your stance with Namjoon’s help. “You know, I spent hours getting ready and now I just look stupid. I feel stupid.”

“You don’t. You’re not,” Namjoon insists, his palm squeezing your shoulder.

“Namjoon, I shaved my entire body. Do you know how long that took?”

Jungkook forces himself to withdraw into the kitchen. If you see him now you might murder him. He purses his lips into a thin line and tightens his grip around his arms. In an instant he imagines hiking your dress above your hips and parting your legs so he might brush his cheek against the smooth expanse of your thigh all the way to your core. Are your panties as slutty as your dress? Are they cute? Lacy? Plain?

“Geeksquad…” Namjoon sighs loudly. “I really don’t need to know— Hold up. Wasn’t this the second date?”

“Are you slutshaming me?” The tired laugh that follows sounds more like you, but it still hurts his heart. “I’m stepping up my game.”

“Nah. You do you,” he says, a soft smile on his lips that’s obviously full of pity. “You want to stay and get some food? I think I have some sweats you can change into.”

Tires screech in Jungkook’s mind. Is he going to be trapped here for the night? Without dinner? What kind of karmic torture is the universe putting him through?

“No, I’m sorry,” you sniffle, wiping your face with the sleeves of your sweater. “Jennie wants me to come over but I—I didn’t think I could make it with having a full meltdown. You were on the way.”

“No need to apologize.” He pulls you into another tight hug. “Do you want me to walk you back to your car?”

“No, no it’s fine. I’m right in front. Thanks, Joonie.” Your phone begins to buzz in your hoodie pocket. You pull back and wave it at him, already on your way to the door. “It’s like she knew. I’ll talk to her on the way. Thank you for listening to me cry for the millionth time.”

“Always. Text me when you get there, okay?”

“Will do, mom,” you tease with a soft laugh.

“Zip up your hoodie.”

You grimace at him with narrowed eyes but heed his advice on your way out. You also pull your skirt down as far down your thighs as it will reach. Men are gross and you trust virtually none of them.

Jungkook waits until he hears the click of the lock on the door to breathe a loud sigh of relief. Namjoon rubs the back of his neck and stares at the door. He worries about you.

“Yikes. That Jason guy is a dick huh?”

Namjoon swivels on his heels and rounds on his friend. “Like you were so much better to her?”

Jungkook casts his gaze to the floor. “I didn’t stand her up.”

Even he knows that argument is flimsy.

“Guk.”

“It was always just a joke.”

“It’s not though. She really liked you, man. I asked you not to mess with her.”

Memories have warped Jungkook into a jaded man: untrusting although not uncaring. Guilt is the only thing churning in his stomach as he thinks of you. He never expected to genuinely hurt you. Somehow things twisted into a gnarled mess that never really felt like more than a playful game of tug-of-war. But these kinds of games only work when the people involved know that they’re playing. It’s shitty when one pulls another into the mud when they’ve never agreed to participate.

Faced with the reality of how you consider him now, it dawns on him that he’s dragged you into the mud face-first without even the slightest resistance. You’ve stood up and you’ve even yanked the rope in retaliation, but you never should’ve been in the mud in the first place. Regardless of his own emotional ineptitude, he knows you never deserved that humiliation. No one does. The weight of his actions sits heavy in his gut.

Still he tries to justify himself. “All I do now is make pass after pass and she’s the one who turns me down.”

“You said it earlier yourself,” Namjoon sneers, irritated by his friend’s immaturity. “It’s always a joke. You’re never serious and she knows it. Look, you don’t have to like her back. She’s my friend and so are you. Just don’t lead her on and stop with the mind games. Be honest with her. The least you can do is apologize for being a dick.”

“That’s— I feel like… I don’t know how.”

Jungkook can’t bring himself to tell him of your conversation earlier tonight. It just adds to the guilt piling on his conscience. Namjoon used his own words against him and the worst part is it makes sense. It’s so much easier when it’s a stranger at a bar or a random encounter at a club, but you’re neither of those things. He lumped you into that category all the same.

Namjoon clicks his tongue and puts an arm around Jungkook’s back. “Starting with ‘I’m sorry’ can go a long way. She’s a good person and I know you guys can get along. Things were going well until you made that bet, right?”

Jungkook opens his mouth to speak and then closes it. “Mmm.”

“Not every girl is a Jiseo, Jungkook.”

“Yeah.”

“I think…” Namjoon sighs and shakes his head. “I don’t know. Can you try to just... tone it down? Maybe try to patch things up?”

“Okay.” Jungkook’s brow furrows and he chews his lip as he mulls over Namjoon’s words. He reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out his keys. “You ready?”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Your head dips forward as your fingers glide across the keys. It's hard to concentrate on your task when you're this distracted by your own thoughts. You stare at the monitor with furrowed brows. Namjoon grabs the back of your chair and leans forward to tower over you.

"Went that well, huh? Did he blow the second chance he didn’t deserve?"

The motion jerks you backwards and you grip the armrests of the chair to steady yourself. Despite your best attempt to curb the irritation in your expression, your frustration remains apparent. You sit back and tilt your head up to look at him, trying to think of something to say, some excuse to not reinforce the "told you so" waiting in your future, not after you showed up at his apartment sounding like a dying whale a few days before. When no ideas come to your immediate aid, you click your tongue and let out a heavy sigh as you turn your attention back to the screen.

"Geeksquad," he presses. "Talk to me."

You exhale through your nose and briefly purse your lips before obliging his plea. The words are quick and quiet so you don't run the risk of bawling your eyes out again. "He canceled.”

Namjoon steps back and the pressure on your seat is gone. He places a large palm on your shoulder. "I'm sorry. Do you want to talk about it?"

Despite wanting to give the opposite answer, you shake your head. You don't trust yourself to speak, but you'd like to tell him. He's clever and you know he'll likely find a way to get it out of you with minimal effort anyway. Still, you don’t think you can manage the words without crying like a baby and you don’t want to do that when the morning has only just begun. Silence falls between the two of you as he gives you time to decide if you want to open up.

After a moment of tapping away you finally give in. You know you’ll feel better after you cry.

"He said he had to stay behind and help do clean-up for the party he was at. And that’s nice and all, but we had plans. I feel crazy. I should be glad that he’s so kind, right? Like that shows he’s a good person, right?” Your voice has cracked but it hasn’t quite broken.

He sighs and flops in the chair on the other side of his desk. “Y/N… I think you’re asking me for answers you already know.”

“But tell me anyway,” you press, tears welling in your eyes. “Our first date went so well. So why-y-” Your voice breaks.

“Hey.” He reaches across the desk and brushes his fingers against your arm. “I know you want me to help you make excuses for him... But you deserve someone who values your time. Clearly he’s just looking to waste it.”

“But—”

“Y/N, you don’t need someone like that. If this is what he’s like before you’re even together, then what kind of effort is he really going to put into a potential relationship? Not enough. There are so many people out there, people that would trip over themselves just to have the chance to be with you. I know you don’t want to hear it, but I think it’s a mistake that you even gave him another shot. He blew it. Twice. Delete his number. Forget him.”

“I know,” you croak. Tears fall from your eyes and you quickly swipe them away, focusing on the task at hand.

Namjoon is right and you know it, but you’re kind of irritated about it. You know it’s not really him you’re mad at, but Namjoon is a good enough placeholder while you try to sort through your hurt feelings.

You muster your most monotone voice as you stand. “I updated your drivers and deleted any cached files that might have been causing issues. Is that all?”

“Don’t be mad at me,” he pleads, rising to block your path as you step towards the door. “You have a big heart and I hate seeing it stepped on.”

In a matter of seconds you melt into his embrace and bury your face into his shirt. “I hate how fast I like people.”

“I know.” He pets the back of your head softly and squishes you against his chest. “It’s gonna be okay. How about udon later? My treat?”

“With beef?” you ask with a sniffle.

“With beef,” he agrees.

“Gyoza?”

“Mhm.”

“And takoyaki?”

“...You’re pushing it.”

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

You slide the appetizer tray across the table towards Namjoon. “Here.”

He shovels a dumping into his mouth right before he speaks. “I could eat this every day for the rest of my life.”

“Could you afford it though?” you tease, taking a sip from the bottle of saké and crinkling your nose at it before passing it to him.

“Not if you’re joining me,” he snorts. “You’re supposed to pour it.”

“No, thanks.” You push the tiny glass full of liquid back towards him.

"Wow. Are you guys on a date?"

You know the source of the voice before you even crane your neck to see Jungkook.

"Pfft." Namjoon waves the question off with a deep laugh.

Despite finding the scenario of ever dating Namjoon absolutely absurd, you can’t help but feel a little insulted by the volume of his laughter. Namjoon’s hangout night was supposed to take your mind off of how unwanted Jason made you feel. Instead, the pit of insecurity within your stomach grows into a thick, tangled brush of hostility. Is being seen with you really so laughable?

“Why would we be?” you snap, turning your attention back to your bowl.

Heat settles in your face and you purse your lips, not daring to look at either of them. You try to wrangle some noodles to shovel in your mouth before you can say something stupid. Their eyes are on you. Jungkook is definitely confused but not alarmed by your hostility. It’s something he’s grown accustomed to. But Namjoon knows when he hurts your feelings, every time, and it’s easy enough to disarm your irritability.

“She’s way too good for a mess like me,” Namjoon says with a light laugh.

“Why are you here?” you ask, tone already softer than before.

"Post-work snackie," he answers, all too cheery for your sour mood. “Came for the noods. Mind if I join?”

He looks to the rosy-cheeked Namjoon for his answer, as you set your hoodie and purse down in the space beside you to give him yours. Namjoon betrays you by scooting over to make room on his side of the booth. You’d mentioned to him before that you’d eventually like to fix things with Jungkook, to somehow make steps for peace. But you only have so much mental energy left to give today.

“Not tonight, Jungkook,” you plead with a sigh.

The frustration in that puff of breath is enough to make Jungkook hesitate. He blinks a few times, wide-eyed. “What?”

“I just… can’t handle your bullshit tonight.”

Jungkook tries to break the uncomfortable tension with a grin. “No bullshit tonight. Promise.”

“No.” Your answer is firm and somehow so fragile that it makes both men worry their brows in the same fashion. “Please, just go away.”

He shoves his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and takes a few steps back. He doesn’t know what to make of your demeanor, but he can put enough together to know the basics. You’re upset, maybe not at him for once. However unlikely, that’d be a blessing. Maybe you’re still upset about that guy that stood you up a few days ago. If that’s the case, he probably shouldn’t stick around and risk letting on how much he knows about that.

He tongues the side of his cheek and nods, forcing a smile to his face. “Alright. I’ll just order it to go. Planned on that anyway. Catch you later.”

Guilt wracks your nerves as he walks away. The moment you look back at Namjoon, you’re faced with a wall of disappointment that threatens to topple the scale of decision-making in Jungkook’s favor.

“You’re judging me for that,” you mumble. The noodles between your chopsticks slip back into the broth.

“Little bit,” Namjoon admits, watching his friend sulk over to the entrance waitstaff. “You know he told me he’s trying to be nicer to you.”

“What? When?”

“The other day. We hung out.”

He keeps his answers short and ambiguous, hoping your curiosity has been piqued. Maybe this is the golden opportunity he’s been hoping for to patch your friendship.

“Was this before or after he harassed me on Tinder?”

Namjoon’s heart sinks into his butt. Of course Jungkook would make reconciliation harder than it needs to be. “When did he do that?”

“That night I showed up at your apartment like a big crybaby.”

“I went over his place for dinner after you left. Jin wanted to try a new recipe out on us.” That seems to at least make you pause.

“You guys talked about me?”

“Yup.” He goes back to chewing his food, knowing he’s got you hooked.

Your incredulous stare does nothing to pull information past his lips. “Joonie. What did you say about me? What did he say?”

“Mmm?” He slurps up a long noodle. “A lot of things. But they’re not really my words to tell.”

“No one likes clickbait, Joon.”

“Look, all I’m saying is that he told me that he wants to fix things. If you want specifics, maybe we can invite him to come eat with us. It might be easier for the both of you to talk about it over good food.”

You sigh, seriously considering his words even as you shake your head. “Joon, I’m already emotionally compromised. I really don’t want to cry in front of Jungkook tonight.”

“Why would you cry? This is a night for good things only. Namjoon-approved and protected. You don’t have to talk about anything you don’t want to... I just thought it might be nice to make some good memories with good friends.”

You roll your eyes but hold your pinky out for him. “Fine. But this is Joonie-Y/N time. You’re cutting into that allotted time slot, you know that right?”

Namjoon rests his elbow on the table, preparing to pinky swear to whatever you’re about to suggest. “Conditions?”

“He sits next to you, he doesn’t make fun of me if I cry, and…. he doesn’t get to talk.”

“Y/N.”

“Fiiiiine. He can talk. But he better be as nice as you say he’s trying to be.”

“We allowed to talk about Jason?”

“If it comes up…” you sigh. “You know, if he’s mean to me and I cry then you have to deal with it.”

He clasps his long pinky around yours. “Deal. But with how all that just went down, you gotta go tell him to come back. He won’t believe me if I do it.”

“Don’t let him be mean to me,” you plead, tightening your grip on his pinky and locking eyes with him. “Good vibes only.”

“He won’t be mean. Good vibes only.” Namjoon nods with a soft smile. “He really is a good person where it counts, Y/N.”

You push your things aside and force yourself to find Jungkook. He’s leaning against a wall near the entrance, scrolling through his phone while he waits for his order. You quietly request to your waitress that you’d like his food brought to your table. She’s nice enough about it, but your stomach churns regardless. It’s the anxiety.

You gingerly poke a finger against his shoulder as you approach. “Um. Hey.”

He seems startled at first, but smiles when he realizes it’s you. “Hmm?”

You take a deep quiet inhale, trying your best not to get lost in the butterflies his charming smile conjures in your gut. You try to tell yourself it’s anxiety and nothing more. Apologies are hard and scary. That’s all.

“I’m… sorry for being rude. I’ve had a rough week but I shouldn’t take it out on you. Come eat with us, please. Namjoon’s buying anyway.”

His eyes seem to light up with surprise and a warm smile deepens the creases around his eyes and mouth. The hope that these feelings of attraction would evaporate with time is a flame swiftly snuffed out and replaced with a burning heartache that deems denial useless. Even now, pangs of infatuation lurk below your feelings of disdain, breaking the tension of its surface with each beat of your heart.

“It’s okay,” he reassures you. “I shouldn’t have invited myself when I saw you guys. I should really get home and shower anyway.”

He looks so clean that you’d assumed he’d already showered. It’s not like you can smell him from where you stand. Maybe he’s lying, but at least you get the sense it’s coming from a place of politeness.

“Jungkook, I want you to come eat with us. Besides Namjoon wants someone to drink saké with him and I cannot keep doing it.”

“I see.” He offers a small laugh and rubs the back of his neck. “Are you sure? You seemed pretty against it before. What changed?”

“Namjoon told me you’re trying to be less of an asshole to me.”

“Did he?” he licks his lips and tries to hide his pleased smile. “I’m surprised you believe him.”

“He also promised me I could punch you in the dick if you make me cry,” you lie, completely stone-faced.

If he knows that’s a falsified statement, he doesn’t say anything. He looks past your shoulder to quirk a brow at Namjoon, who appears to be furiously texting at the table. Jungkook’s phone buzzes a few times against his palm and he’s fairly sure he already knows who it is.

“Come on. I already asked them to bring your food to the table.”

He reads Namjoon’s messages as he trails behind you.

NAMJOON: If you seriously want to apologize stick around, make her laugh, just listen when you need to

JUNGKOOK: Don’t worry

JUNGKOOK: I got u

Before Namjoon can send a text saying that Jungkook's response has the opposite effect, you’re peeking across the table, trying to get a glance at the screen.

“Who’s that?” you wonder. Namjoon’s not usually one to be so secretive with his texts.

“Hmm?” he raises his eyebrows at you and pours you a shot. “Stupid. Don’t worry about it.”

“Ha. Haha. Ha.” You gesture at your face. “You say to the girl with anxiety.”

Crinkling your nose at the glass he offers, you slide it across to Jungkook as he settles in next to Namjoon. “Here. I’m done drinking that stuff tonight.”

He regards it with a quirked brow. Something about your demeanor really has changed, but looking between you and Namjoon does nothing to answer the question of what that may be.

“Okay, so on reddit this guy was reaching. He’s going on about the symbolism in the red scarf—”

Your eyes gloss over the moment he mentions reddit. Is there anything you care less about than Joon’s favorite modern literary discussion threads?

“Got it. Not worrying about it,” you interrupt, bringing your bowl to your lips to slurp some of the broth.

Jungkook hides his smirk by throwing his head back to drink his shot. Namjoon is a genius. It might be scary if he ever decided to use his intellect for nefarious purposes. Lucky for the universe he uses it to protect others, like a real superhero would.

As the three of you dine together, you’re surprised to find that Jungkook isn’t being as annoying as he usually is. In fact, it seems the more he drinks outside of any competitive setting, the more affable he becomes. Maybe there’s something to Namjoon’s clickbaity words. He’s almost the person you remember meeting before the Halloween Party, maybe even more pleasant.

You’re grateful when the two of them start telling embarrassing stories so you can listen and laugh at the way they slur their words and interrupt each other. Laughter makes your heart feel light and full, and brave enough to take the last step to prove to yourself you’re done chasing Jason. As the two men fight over the last piece of gyoza and distract themselves over dessert, you quietly decide to clear your text messages from Jason. Your finger hovers over the delete icon for a second before purging his contact information from your device entirely.

It’s freeing to not have to worry about what you should send him. It’s frustrating to have tried so hard for so long and have nothing to show for it, but at least there will be no conversation history to pick apart anymore. It should feel perfect. That will definitely show him, right? You don’t have to reflect for more than a couple seconds to reinforce the memory of how little he actually reached out on his own.

He still has your number. The only time he ever called was on your first date. He never texted you unless you spoke first. He probably won’t even notice you’re gone. He’s probably relieved he won’t have to answer you anymore. He probably thinks you’re desperate for trying for so long. You don’t realize how well you wear your anxiety.

When you look up Jungkook is watching you while he chews with his mouth wide open. “Hey, why do-” He hiccups and swallows. “Why do you look so sad? You should have some ice cream.”

He scans the table for something to offer you, but he can’t seem to find what he’s looking for in his drunken stupor. After a few seconds his eyes finally land on his own plate where the other half of his red-bean cake sits.

“Do you want my taiyaki?” He holds the tail end of the fish-shaped cake out to you. “It’s really good!”

You can’t help but laugh at the unexpected sweet absurdity of the night. “Jungkook, I don’t want your half-eaten cake.”

He frowns and looks at the pastry. “Is it because I bit it? I’ll break off that part for you if you don’t want your mouth to touch that.”

Although Jungkook definitely is more drunk than Namjoon right now, the older man can’t help but be amazed by how well this is going. He loads up on green tea ice cream and digs his spoon in it. He shouldn’t have been so worried. Jungkook can put away the act when he wants to, especially once alcohol is involved and there’s nothing to prove. You guys are actually getting along. What a relief.

“No, really it’s okay.” You laugh.

Jungkook is already breaking the pastry apart in his hand, watching as it crumbles to pieces on his plate. He blinks a couple times and closes his mouth in a frown.

“I thought that would work.” He sounds utterly defeated.

The waitress walks over just in time to watch Namjoon stick a heaping spoonful of wasabi in his mouth. You're too busy laughing at Jungkook's forlorn expression to notice the way Namjoon's eyes water. His eyes drop to the ice cream he thought he shoveled into his mouth. Right next to the pristine, untouched scoop of green tea ice cream, he finds his spoon resting in the hunk of wasabi adjacent to it. He should really pay attention more. He pushes against Jungkook's side and motions that he needs to get up. The younger man spares a glance his way but Namjoon waves him off while mumbling something about the bathroom.

The waitress tries to keep her composure and looks between the pair of you. "How is everything?"

"Great! Could you please bring us some water?" you ask in your sweetest voice, realizing the two men with you should at least try to start sobering up.

You expected to have Namjoon crashing on your couch on a Friday night, or at least be dropping him off down the hall at Hobi’s place. Jungkook was not part of the plan, but you can’t exactly let him drive home inebriated. You know he’s not your responsibility but you’d feel guilty making him call for a ride home when you’re perfectly capable.

Although you hate to admit it, you’ve had fun tonight. If you’re being honest with yourself you’d like to see what he’s like without Namjoon nearby to police his moves. He’s been nice enough, but you want to know for sure this isn’t an act. You want to ask him if he’s made another bet, or playing some game since he hasn’t hit on you all night. Before you can get your line of questions in order, Jungkook turns to the server with large, pleading eyes.

"Oh! Can you bring some more dessert, please?"

He may be a grown ass man capable of charming the pants off of women everywhere, but right now he is little more than a child begging for seconds. Regardless of everything he's done, your heart softens, endeared and embarrassed by his drunken request to your server.

The waitress nods. "Sure, what would you like?"

His eyes fall to you for an answer. "What do you like?"

You blink at him. "Me? I thought this was for you."

He nods. "Mm. We can split it."

"Um, how about... tempura?"

"Banana?"

Jungkook’s voice is full of anticipation and his upturned eyebrows seem to bargain for agreement. It’s so hard to believe this is the same man who has been so cold to you for so long when he seems so open and warm now. You remind yourself it’s probably the alcohol. It’s probably some secret promise to Namjoon. Some bet with Hobi. Some game he’s playing. It’s probably anything other than what your dumb crush-stupefied heart wants it to be.

The waitress looks to you for approval and you give a nod. "Sure. Banana tempura."

The waitress awkwardly smiles as she gathers the empty platters and gives you a chance to break away from his endearingly drunken face. He smiles across the table at you and wrings his hands while you pick up your phone to check on those nonexistent messages. Maybe if you distract yourself enough you can ignore the feelings that are catching up to you tonight.

“Thank you for inviting me back over,” he says, reaching to the nearly empty bottle of saké to pour himself another shot. “I’ve... been wanting to talk to you."

"I’m surprised you didn’t blow up my phone.” It’s supposed to be a joke, but there’s a harshness in your tone that exposes a venomous bite beneath it.

He downs the shot and plants his elbows on the table, leaning forward on them. "I wanted to say it to your face."

“Oh, really?”

You don’t allow yourself to entertain the idea that he’s about to say anything groundbreaking, but you look away from your phone to meet those dark, twinkling eyes. Suddenly there’s hope in your gut. You’re desperate to put some distance between the feelings jumping to the surface.

“I’ve been a dick.”

“No shit.”

Though the fog of alcohol consumes his apology, his eyes focus on you with clarity. “I’m sorry.”

How long have you waited to hear those words? You never really thought about what you might say in response. His apology sits in the air between you for a moment before he speaks again.

“I’m really sorry. Namjoon is right. I am trying to be less of an asshole to you. We don’t…” he catches himself, “I don’t have a lot of close friends who are women.”

“You don’t say.”

That seems to cut through the fog. He hangs his head and focuses his gaze on the table.

“I never wanted to hurt your feelings.”

“Well, you did,” you mumble.

“I know... I’m sorry.” It’s like now that he’s said it once, he can’t stop saying it. He’s not sure how to make you understand. Maybe you do understand and you just won’t forgive him. Can he really blame you for that?

“Why?” you question; it’s the last barrier protecting your heart, the only thing keeping you from caving. “Why do you care now?”

Jungkook’s head lolls to one side as he sits back against his seat and stares at the nearly empty bottle of saké. “I don’t know. I guess I was thinking… I wish I had a save to reload. Before I messed up.”

It seems that’s the best you’re going to get out of him right now. The waitress sets down a beautiful platter of banana tempura meticulously arranged around a simple mound of ice cream, topped with a single cherry and drizzled with decorative chocolate. She places three waters on the table and you both take a moment to politely force smiles and pause your conversation.

He licks his lips and stares down at the plate and then back up at you. “Can we start over?”

“Depends. Are you gonna go back to being a dick when you’re not drunk anymore?”

“No, no. I mean it. I wanna try to be friends.”

“For real?” You swipe the cherry, pop it in your mouth and tilt your head to regard him. You can’t let yourself fully believe him. You want to. The earnestness in his drunken features charms you, but you hold onto a shred of disbelief as a crutch. You’ll wait for the moment he reverts. Hopefully this time you’ll be prepared for the whiplash that comes along with it.

“For real.”

You reflect on his apology as the pair of you dig into the dessert. “Maybe. Prove it.”

He perks up. He’ll take a maybe. Maybe means the damage he’s done might not be irreparable. The guilt weighing on his conscience feels lighter. It’s a start.

“I will. I’ll find some way to make it up to you.”

You roll your eyes, unwilling to put stock in his words. “Is this another bet with Hobi? About how quickly you can make me forgive you?”

Jungkook shakes his head furiously, wisps of wild black hair whipping his cheeks. “No, I mean it. I promise.”

You drag your lip through your teeth as you teeter on the line of acceptance. “What is a promise from a liar worth?”

He drops the flat of his palm to the table and he pouts. “Hey. I mean it…. Hm. If I break my promise…” His eyes scan the table for anything he can use to change your mind. He looks at his arm pressed against the table and then back at you. “You can choose my next tattoo.”

Your eyebrows rise into your hairline. “Really.”

He eagerly nods. “I’ll get whatever you want wherever you want. Just. Not my face.”

“I want that in writing,” you snort.

Jungkook glances around the table and pulls a napkin from under the plate of tempura. “Do you have a pen?”

“Jungkook, you don’t have to—”

“I’m serious.” He’s not taking no for an answer.

You shake your head and rummage through your purse to supply him with a pen. He smooths out the napkin he’s chosen to use as a conduit for his promise. When he’s finished writing he slides it towards you.

Princess

I’m sorry. I can make it right.

I promise. Please give me another chance.

If I blow it you can choose what & where my next tattoo goes.

As long as it’s not my face. Let’s be friends? #promise.com ♡ Jungkook

Of course he signed it with a heart. Despite his inebriation, his handwriting is still neat. Well, that’s one hell of a promise.

“Okay.” You fold the note and drop it into your purse. “We can try.”

His face lights up as he stuffs a piece of tempura into his mouth, happily chomping with his mouth wide open. He reaches for the saké but you slide a water in front of him instead.

“Friends don’t let friends get totally shitfaced at Hajime.”

He frowns at you but seems to accept your answer with a pout.

“Speaking of which… Where is Namjoon?” You crane your neck to look around the restaurant.

“Friday noodle nights common for you guys?” Jungkook asks, digging into the dessert between massive gulps of water.

“No, not really. We’re usually watching movies at my place or hanging with Hobi. But Namjoon wanted to take me out because I was sad,” you say, finally catching sight of your friend on the other side of the bar.

Jungkook’s chewing slows and he regards you with furrowed brows. “Sad?”

Before you can decide how you want to answer, Namjoon is scooting into the booth next to Jungkook and reaching for a piece of tempura. “Mmmm. What did I miss?”

“Y/N was telling me why she’s sad.”

Namjoon nods like he understands exactly what you’ve been talking about. “He’s a dick, right? Like how do you even stand someone up, not once, but twice? Makes no sense.”

“Joonie—”

“And I know what you’re gonna say, but I disagree. It has nothing to do with you or how you look, Y/N. You don’t need to workout like a maniac to try to change anything. Especially not for someone like Jason. I can’t even imagine—”

“Joon.” You click your tongue and slide a glass of water in front of him. “Please, shut the fuck up.”

As you glare at him, he looks at you with raised brows and wide eyes. Unsure what to do now that he’s obviously fubared the conversation, he casts his guilty gaze to his cup and brings it to his lips.

Jungkook stares at you with furrowed brows, trying to wait to let you fill in the blanks even though he’s itching to ask about everything. He picks another piece of tempura and stuffs it into his mouth, but when you remain silent the impulse to pry takes over. “Jason?”

“He stood me up…” you start, but you close your mouth when you realize you’re going to try to defend him. Your throat feels full, like you can’t get enough air through with a giant knot in it like this. You have to whisper so your voice doesn’t crack. “Twice.”

The couple drinking at the table nearby becomes a much more interesting place to rest your eyes than the two men across from you. Tightening your jaw doesn’t prevent the gloss from coating your eyes. Thinking about it makes you feel so stupid and desperate. Bending over backwards a thousand different ways to accommodate him couldn’t convince him to put in even a minimal amount of effort one time.

Jungkook’s eyebrows shoot up in genuine surprise. “Twice?”

The hurt you feel in your chest scorches your cheeks until anger is filling your head like a teakettle ready to release an unhealthy amount of steam right in Jungkook’s face.

“That’s what I get for giving people second chances,” you snap as you focus back on him.

Joon says your name like it’s a warning but you don’t need it. You feel guilty enough for projecting your anger onto Jungkook with a petty one-liner.

“Sorry. It’s not your fault. I just…” Your throat closes around the rest of the words.

Before an uncomfortable silence can settle over the table, Namjoon inches the bottle of saké with his fingertips until it’s in front of him. “Dating is tricky. Jason sucks. It sucks that he hurt you. But you don’t have to twist yourself into whatever you think he wants anymore. And that…” He pours the pitiful remainder of alcohol into a shot glass and slides it towards you.“...is worth celebrating.”

Jungkook silently nods his head in agreement. It’s obvious you’re on the verge of tears and he doesn’t want to be the thing that pushes you over the edge.

A soft smile curls the corners of your mouth. “That’s true, but…” you slide the glass back towards him and steal the last of the banana tempura. “I can celebrate back at my apartment. Finish your water so you’ll be awake enough to join me. Both of you.”

Jungkook perks up and happily reaches for his water while Namjoon gives you a proud, yet confused look. It seems like a new start to something. What that is remains to be seen.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Jungkook watches intently as the colors of the city shine through the windows. He runs his fingers over the soft blanket you keep in the backseat, mouthing the words to the song softly playing from your dashboard. Namjoon has been talking nonstop from the passenger seat, which is fine with Jungkook since he’s feeling a little tired. The last session of the day was a bit more intense than intended, but the client left happy and covered in sweat. A success. But Jungkook is sore and exhausted. Physically and socially.

A sense of relief floods him at the memory of his conversation with you. Things may actually be okay from here. Who would have thought crashing your noodle night with Namjoon could have yielded such results?

His head bobs to the music as his eyes wander across the scenery outside until he grows bored and they drift to the interior of your car. A graduation tassel swings from your rearview mirror as you turn. He follows the movement of the tassel when it swings towards you and his eyes land on your face, or at least what he can see of it from this angle.

You look focused and calm while conversing with Namjoon but your posture is a bit rigid and your hands remain planted on the steering wheel in complete control. There’s something about this candid snapshot of your persona that puts him at ease. Your voice is a soft contrast to Namjoon’s, but equally enthusiastic.

He tilts his head as he leans back in his seat, pulling the blanket over his lap and twisting the fabric around his palm. Your eyes flicker in the rearview mirror, catching his. He gives a tiny wave and rests his head against the cushion, fighting the temptation to close his eyelids for longer than a second. The more he listens to you laugh, the more he finds himself smiling. It’s goofy.

It’s also kind of cute.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Jungkook is surprised when Yoongi answers your knock; he thought he would be asleep. He’s even more surprised when you make yourself at home on his couch and guilt him with a puppy dog pout to make you a drink, and he complies. When Jungkook asks the same, Yoongi tells him there’s beer in the fridge while measuring out the ingredients for your cocktail. The suspicious sour ache of jealousy stabs his gut as he moseys to the fridge but he quickly shakes it off, settling on the floor in front of the tv with a beer in hand.

After a couple hours of drinking, laughing, and playing Jackbox games with the three men, you’re feeling much better about everything. Life is good. Friends are good. Alcohol is very good.

It doesn’t take much to get you drunk. You’re about as much of a lightweight as Hobi and for better or worse everyone has come to know that fact. What’s nice about drinking in Yoongi’s apartment is that you don’t have to walk very far to get home. Things don’t get awkward with the three of them together; it’s actually kind of nice, like a mini Saturday night pregame.

Soon Namjoon and Yoongi are snoring on the couch with a movie playing in the background while you stand in the kitchen with Jungkook. He pours another drink for himself, though he knows it will mostly likely remain unfinished. Tomorrow may bring a massive hangover, but tonight has been surprisingly pleasant. He feels like he’s finally on okay footing with you, maybe even on the road to serious repair. Amazing how well you get along when inhibitions are replaced by inebriation. If that’s what it takes, he’s determined to keep it up.

As he turns his back to place the liquor bottle in the cabinet by the fridge, you swipe a sip of the drink he’s concocted. He spins around in time to see you wrinkle your nose and stick your tongue out.

“Hey, that’s mine!” he pouts.

“Blegh. You can have it. Yuck!” Your face screws up again at the aftertaste.

He drunkenly giggles as he slides the drink closer to him. “What, don’t like sour?”

“Too sour!” You reach for the water bottle Yoongi gave you hours ago and attempt to rinse the puckering sensation from your mouth.

Amused, he tilts his head and watches you take gulp after gulp. He purses his lips and holds back the comment itching to escape, deciding to enjoy a sip of his drink instead. You shimmy out of your hoodie and tie it around your waist and his eyes lazily follow the motion of your arms, noting a slight difference in their musculature. Some errant thought about their shape leads him back to an earlier unaddressed comment that he’s finally comfortable enough to prod you about.

“What kind of workouts are you doing?” he blurts.

Suddenly you feel very exposed. You straighten in your seat and suck in your gut, hyper aware of every imperfection of your body on display to someone so in shape. You immediately begin to fidget with the sleeves of the hoodie you just tied around your waist.

“You don’t have to tell me. I just—” he pauses, exhaling a small breath and looking down at his drink as though he’s wary of continuing the thought.

“No, no it’s fine,” you assure him, too curious to say otherwise. “What is it?”

“When Namjoon said…” he sighs and takes a sip, smacking his lips and licking them before looking back to you. “I thought maybe I can prove myself to you by helping you come up with a plan.”

“You don’t have to do that.” You plant an elbow on the counter and lean on it.

“I want to,” he insists, reaching out for your arm.

His hand is like fire engulfing your skin and your eyelids flutter at the sensation. Instinctively you place a hand over his and rub your thumb anxiously over it. He looks down to where your thumb grazes his knuckles and then back up to your face with a surprised smile.

“Um… Everything,” you say, trying to sound as vague and nonchalant as possible so he doesn’t judge you for your lack of knowledge.

“Like, full body?”

“Uh...” You’ve managed to make a habit of going to his gym a few days a week while successfully avoiding him, but it seems that time is coming to an end. “I… machine.”

“Oh. Like at a gym? Did you join one?” He seems genuinely curious.

“Um, yeah.” Suddenly you pull your hand back when you realize the speed at which your thumb is moving.

“Which one?”

The more you say, the more suspicious you seem, but is saying less any better? Jungkook rests his elbow on the counter and simply looks at you but you don’t look back. A slow smile spreads his lips as the possibility dawns on him.

“Princess… Did you join Iron Kingdom?”

You puff your cheeks and force the air through the tiny opening of your mouth. You don’t offer any sort of confirmation and continue to avoid his gaze.

“And you didn’t tell me?” he playfully prods, drumming his fingers against your forearm.

“I… Yeah,” you admit, your voice small as you stare at the counter. “I didn’t want you to know.

“Why?”

“Because.”

“Because?”

“I don’t want to give you another thing to make fun of me for.”

“I’m not gonna make fun of you.” When you don’t respond he tugs on your arm. The motion is enough to angle you towards him. “Hey. Hey. Hey. Hey.”

“What?” you grumble, staring at your lap even as you face him.

He takes your hands in his and drunkenly waves them around. “Heeeeeeeey. Look at me.”

He pouts until you reluctantly drag your eyes to meet his. “What?”

“Everyone starts somewhere,” he says softly. “Even me.”

The shift in his demeanor catches you off guard and you subconsciously lean forward as you relax. “Well I started with Hwasa, but I was too sore to ask for another session with her.”

He nods sympathetically, clapping his hand over yours. “You should try again.”

You shake your head. “I don’t know. I feel like…”

“Like?” he prods when you let the silence trail for a bit too long.

“I don’t know what I’m doing,” you sigh. “I feel like I don’t belong there. I look so stupid reading the instructions on the machines. I don’t even think I’m doing it right.”

“What?” He makes a sound between a laugh and a grunt. “There’s nothing wrong with making sure you don’t hurt yourself. Nobody knows how to instantly do things. If they tell you they do, they’re lying.”

“Or they’re Namjoon,” you say with a roll of your eyes, glancing over at your snoring friend.

He smiles and clicks his tongue against his teeth in thought. “I didn’t know what I was doing when I started.”

“Really.”

You’re skeptical. It’s always seemed like he was born in a gym. Or maybe hatched. He’s kind of inhumanly gorgeous. Maybe he sprouted from a flower like a mythical god.

“For real. First time doing squats. I think it was gym class? Yeah, I was like twelve or thirteen. I was… not very athletic. Didn’t play sports or anything. Kind of shy. Didn’t really have a lot of friends either…”

The way he trails off makes your heart hurt. Puberty isn’t nice to most people. It’s hard to imagine a world where someone like Jungkook isn’t instantly popular and naturally fit. While you’re not exactly the same person you were at twelve, a lot of your interests and personality quirks have remained the same. You’re still painfully awkward at times. How did he manage to overcome something like that? Is it not ingrained in him like it is you?

“Just a big dork, you know?” He laughs. “I see this girl I had a crush on, Amber. She’s looking at me. I think I have to impress her. So I’m stacking up weight and I think I’m hot shit and go too fast. Know what happened?”

“Please don’t tell me you dropped it on your foot or something,” you plead, squeezing his palms at the way he’s building up the story. The secondhand embarrassment is too real.

“I hear a pop.”

“No!” you gasp, bringing your hands to your face as if you can stop the past from happening.

“And pain. So much pain. I don’t remember putting the weights down but I remember ending up on my back, staring up at the ceiling.”

“Oh no. Knees?”

“Worse.” He points down to his crotch. “Pulled a muscle in my groin. Had to sit the rest of the day with an ice pack on my junk. Was not fun. My point is: don’t give up. You learn more as you go. Give Hwasa another shot.”

His anecdote gives you pause but you’re desperate to cling to the comfort of your anxiety. “My free trial with her is almost up and I don’t think I’ll be able to afford to keep at it.”

“More excuses,” he teases, taking a sip of his drink. “At this point I should just—” His eyes widen, a lightbulb practically forming above his head as he puts his cup down. “I’ll be your personal trainer!”

“Uhh…”

“No, no. It’s perfect. We’re friends now.” He smiles, proud of himself for finding a way to prove himself to you. “I can teach you everything you need to know about working out. I can set up a plan for you and figure out the best way to help you achieve your goals. Oh, man we’re gonna have to figure out your goals. What do you—”

“Hold on. Hold on,” you interrupt with a nervous laugh. “You’re missing the part where I still can’t afford it.”

He rolls his eyes and grabs your glass, holding it under the sink to refill it. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll cover it.”

You’re stunned into silence as you observe the expanse of his back, searching the black fabric of his t-shirt for the definition of his muscles. He sets the cup in front of you, waiting for your agreement. When it doesn’t come, he second guesses himself. Did he overstep?

“I mean if you’re okay with that. Would-would you want to do that?”

The innocent drunken sparkle in his eyes makes your stomach do a flip. When you woke up this morning you hardly thought the day would include getting sloshed with Jungkook and having him offer to take you on as a fitness trainee. It’s like he’s opened himself up just enough for you to see the soft mess beneath. You like it. You like it a lot and you kind of hate yourself for it. While you don’t know if you can trust him past the evening, you find yourself hoping you can.

“You won’t make fun of me?” you ask timidly before bringing the cup of water to your lips.

“It’s my job not to make fun of you. We start where you’re at and go from there. And like I said, I’ll cover the fees for as long as you want. No pressure.” He smiles at you. “What do you think?”

“...Okay,” you murmur with a nod of your head. “If you’re serious, then I’m… I’m in!”

His lips part to expose his teeth as his grin spreads. “Yes!”

As he brings his hand up in a sign of victory, his knuckles knock against his glass. You reach for the cup with impaired reflexes, hands fumbling over the slippery surface in conjunction with his. The sour contents spill across the counter as the pair of you struggle to right the glass. While he’s quicker at getting the glass upright, your brain is faster at processing what to do next and you already have a paper towel in hand, wiping up the liquid as fast as possible.

Your eyes follow the spill to the edge of the counter where it’s flooded over the side. Acting on instinct rather than rational thought, you quickly press down where the liquid has begun to pool in his lap. As you fold the paper towel over, you rub frantically as if the action will keep the stain from setting into the fabric. He shifts in his seat and squeaks out a sound so small that you can’t actually tell whether it came from him or the chair.

It only dawns on you how inappropriate your actions are when you glance towards his face and find his wide eyes gazing back at you. His cheeks, already flushed from inebriation, seem twice as vivid and his mouth is parted slightly as though he means to speak, but he doesn’t. Maybe he doesn’t want to embarrass you, but it’s too late for that.

Your palm stills against his crotch as the shape beneath becomes clear in your mind. For a second you’re frozen, but your lips work quickly to mumble an apology. It feels like an eternity before you will your drunken fingers to release the paper towel. The clearing of Jungkook’s throat is followed by a tiny giggle, then a full on snort. A grin spreads across your lips and you soon follow him into a fit of laughter. You thank the universe for the small mercy of being drunk enough to push your embarrassment to the side for the time being.

“I wasn’t thinking!” you wheeze, tears in your eyes from laughing so hard. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay. It’ll dry.” He laughs, dabbing his pants and shirt in the absence of your hand. As he stands he pulls the hem of his shirt away from his torso and looks down at it. “Really. It’s my fault I’m so…”

“Sticky?” You quirk an eyebrow at him, a blatant flirtatious action thinly disguised as a joke as you eye the blot of liquor staining the lower half of his shirt.

Both of his eyebrows raise and a mischievous smile curls the corner of his lips. “...Wet.”

You consider his answer with a pleased hum and turn back to the counter to polish off the last of your water. You’re friends now, right? It can’t be that easy. But it kind of is. So what’s wrong with a little harmless flirting between friends?

Drunk brain, who happens to be a notorious hoe, assures you it’s great. Rational brain might disagree, but she’s taking a well-deserved nap. You’ve at least had a good night. You’re not sure it matters at this point who is giving you the attention you crave. It feels good. So good, in fact, you’re sure you can indulge drunk brain a little more.

You’re drawn to the inky shapes swirling around Jungkook’s bicep as he wipes the counter down. Every time your eyes begin to focus on an object marking his skin with some kind of meaning, he moves and you lose it. It’s brush strokes, isn’t it? You’ve definitely seen a paintbrush and mountains and a knife surrounded by roses. A swathe of grey and purple connects to each one you’ve seen, but you know there are more.

Before you can blurt that you’re dying to know how many he has and how bad it hurt to get them, he turns toward the sink and begins to work his t-shirt up his torso. You watch in awe as the toned muscles of his back are exposed. The image of the bright phoenix does little to hide their definition.

Trying to will yourself to look away is of no use; he’s hot and you’re drunk enough to acknowledge that fact. Of course he peeks at you just as the shirt slips over his head to find you open-mouthed and dazed, ogling him as though there isn’t any shame in the world that could pull your gaze from him. He turns to the fridge to give you a moment to compose yourself, nabbing a water bottle from the shelf in the process. You’re clearly not ready for the way he quickly spins on the balls of his feet to face you.

Y/N.exe has stopped working.

Your fingers hang in the air suspiciously until you lazily drop them. But Jungkook dons a toothy grin and has the audacity to look shy. He mockingly shields his chest from you with the shirt clutched in his hands.

“Princess! Are you… checking me out?”

Somehow you don’t let the fire in your face turn your brain to ash.“Pfft, no.”

“What’re you doing, then?” he teases with a laugh as he sits, scooting his chair closer to yours.

“Counting,” you reply simply, brow furrowed in concentration. To drive the point home, you poke at his flesh everywhere you can make out an object drawn into its surface.

“How many?” he wonders, watching with cloudy, amused eyes.

“Mmm…” You trail your finger down his arm and back up, following the curve of the brushstroke around his shoulder. “Can’t tell if this counts as one.”

He shrugs and rests his head on his palm as he leans against the counter. “What do you think?”

You hesitate when he quickly quirks a brow.

“I think… A lot.”

“Definitely accurate,” he says with a grin.

Awkward laughter steers the pair of you towards your waters. The TV in the background provides enough noise to steal your focus; you’re grateful for the distraction from the attractive man beside you. Drunk brain is telling you to touch him again, to grab his hand, to feel the touch of someone just for the night, to ruin every good thing this night has started to rebuild between you. Anything to stave off the emptiness of your bed, the 2AM thoughts of failure, and the drunken desperation to find someone, anyone, who will fall in love with whatever image you happen to project on your dating profile.

Heart pounding wildly in your chest and blood rushing through your ears, your fingertips tap against the countertop as they inch closer to where his arm rests. Luckily your futile attempts at nonchalance go unnoticed. Jungkook anxiously turns his water bottle over in his hands, trying to gather words in his brain before freeing them from his mouth.

“So…” he begins.

You jump at the sudden sound and retract your hand while he’s not paying you any mind.

“I was thinking. About that guy…”

You wish you could at least pretend you don’t know who he’s talking about. You’ve vented plenty tonight, but still your heart sinks. Deleting Jason’s digital footprint from your life was simple and quick, but the feelings of rejection and disappointment that swirl in the back of your mind spill forward the longer his pause continues.

“I know this probably means nothing coming from me. But I just— I know you liked him, but you can do better.“

Your posture stiffens at his reassurance and you find yourself grateful he’s not looking at you. Do you deserve better?

“You deserve better,” he affirms, as if somehow aware of your internal struggle.

“Thanks,” you murmur with a distinct lack of enthusiasm as you stare down your glass.

It's cry hours, isn’t it?

Realizing you don’t believe him, he takes a deep breath and nudges you with his elbow. “Hey.”

“What.” You refuse to look up because you know you’re on the verge of an irrational stream of tears over some guy you hardly knew. It’s stupid and you know it. But the wet warmth coating your eyes tells you it’s coming regardless.

“I’m... sorry that you don’t feel like you do. Some people can’t get over the weight of their own shit. But that doesn’t mean it’s on you to pick it up for them. If they can’t even bother to carry themselves to meet you halfway, then they’re not worth the effort.”

It’s a perfect time for your heart to seize up and it takes the opportunity to do so. The advice he offers doesn’t stave off the tears, but it resonates deep within you. Namjoon said something similar. It makes you ache to hear it again from someone else. It just leads you back to the same questions you keep asking yourself. What’s so wrong with you that people don’t even want to try? Is it your personality? Physicality? Is it a lack of confidence? What is it?

‘I can’t even get a shitty guy to like me. Maybe I’m the one not worth the effort.’ You don’t dare say those words out loud. Pity isn’t something you’re looking for. A warm body to fill your bed maybe, but not pity.

“Sounds easy when you say it like that,” you murmur, trying in vain to will the tears not to fall. You’re quick to swipe at them and force a smile. “I guess I have trouble giving up on people. It’s not that I’m naive. I try to be realistic. But no matter how many times I get fucked over I just... hope for the best in people. I can’t help it.”

He pats your arm reassuringly. “That’s why you deserve better.”

If only it was as simple as hearing those words and magically being able to believe it. A big chunk of your confidence has crumbled away and there’s no clear path to restoration. As the warmth of his palm comes to rest against your arm, you place your hand over his and squeeze.

“I don’t know if I believe it,” you pause and thoughtfully add, “but thanks for saying it.”

His eyebrows raise in surprise and he offers a tiny, “You’re welcome.”

A shaky chuckle passes your lips. All of his features seem to soften the more you look at them. Maybe it’s the drunken gloss coating his big brown eyes or the way his lips slightly part as he looks back at you. The tightly coiled nerves in your belly urge you to unravel.

Although it's a subtle gesture, he licks his lips as he smiles and it practically seals your fate. If you don't leave now you're bound to do something you'll regret.

"It's late. I should sleep."

Or masturbate.

The speed at which you launch yourself from the seat is unpleasant. You're not sure what's worse: the dizzying vertigo or waves nausea sloshing in your gut. Jungkook's reflexes may be delayed but he's a steady mass of muscle the moment you reach out to steady yourself.

"Whoa. You okay?"

"Maybe," you mumble, finding yourself drawn to the heat radiating from his skin. Instead of walking away, slump down to rest your cheek against his shoulder and sling an arm around him. You might be drunker than you thought. "I don't know."

"Hmm. What do you need, princess?"

"Just wanna stop spinning."

His stance shifts to better accommodate the additional weight you press against him.

"How about you take over Yoongi's bed tonight," he suggests softly. "He's passed out anyway."

"No, I should go home." You peel your cheek from the warmth of his skin.

“You gonna make it there?”

“Yes,” you say indignantly. The world may be a bit wobbly right now, but you’re certain you can handle the short stroll down the hall.

"Okay.” He smiles, loosening his hold. As you step back your foot catches on the leg of the chair and it drags loudly against the floor.

Despite Jungkook’s attempt to keep you standing by grabbing at your arms, he loses his balance and he drops to his knees. The chair clatters to the floor before your ass does. Luckily his grip keeps your back and head far from impact, but you’re too cramped to be comfortable.

“Are you okay?” he asks. Those big, dark doe eyes of his are frozen in fear and a frown adorns his face. He looks so serious it’s ridiculous.

You can’t help but laugh, wiggling backwards to make space between his body and the heat steadily building between your legs. “I’m fine. Stop making that face.”

“Huh? What do you mean?” He sits back on his feet and tilts his head to the side in confusion.

He breaks into a fit of giggles when you dramatically mimic his expression. You roll back onto your elbows, making another ridiculous face to further mock him.

“No, no. It’s more like…” Jungkook takes the opportunity to lean over you, reaching with one hand to squeeze your cheeks to pucker your lips. You blow a disjointed raspberry at him before pulling his hand off to the side.

While the clamor of the fallen chair did nothing to rouse the men on the couch, the sound of Jungkook’s hearty laughter is loud enough to disturb the rhythmic snores of Namjoon.

Jungkook sits back on his heels and peeks over the countertop. He seems miles away, even as you sit up and scoot in to bring yourself closer. Laughter fades into a quiet hum as Namjoon’s snoring resumes.

You're lost in the abyss of his gaze as he turns his head to look back at you. All that remains in your brain at this point is a foggy desire to tug on the silky spirals of his ebony hair until he presses himself against you one more time.

Your hand settles for following the curves of his bicep instead, wondering how it might feel to be wrapped within his embrace. Some might say liquor makes you bold and stupid, and they're right. They should say it. But it also makes you feel invincible, like a goddamn glowing Mario star power-up.

"Princess?"

Enraptured, his eyes follow the motion of your hand as it slithers around his arm and squeezes. Unable to ignore the prompt, he answers with a flex against your palm. His ego swells when you shiver and noticeably hold your breath.

You know it's a mistake. You know it goes against all of your sober judgement, but you find yourself doing it anyway. It doesn't matter that you still harbor a grudge that holds your heart hostage. Drunk hoe vibes are taking the wheel. You’re tired, drunk as hell, and just want to feel wanted. And he's here.

Every fiber of your inebriated being is singing in unison: Why the fuck not?

Heartbeat pounding against your eardrums, you attempt to gauge his reaction as you lean towards him. It's hard to tell from beneath half-lidded eyes, but you think he's leaning towards you too. If he isn't you suppose you can always play it off like you're just a mess. It's not far from the truth. Focusing on the tiny freckle below his lip, you allow yourself to finally close your eyes and go for it.

But the universe isn’t here for your dumb boozy bitch mistakes.

The front door swings open with the sound of jingling keys dropping to the floor. It snaps you back to reality and you freeze, realizing there's no defense that will save you. Jungkook is quick to disengage, poking his head above the counter to acknowledge Hoseok’s presence with a wave. But his friend is completely enamored with the company he’s ushering towards his bedroom.

“Yeah, baby? How bad?” Hoseok whispers to the giggling girl wrapped around his arm.

He pins the stranger against the door to drag his tongue across her neck. Their bodies move rhythmically in a slow grind, a precursor for what’s likely to come. Jungkook purses his lips. How long until one of them notices him watching? It’s not until the girl moans Hoseok’s name softly that Jungkook spares a panicked look towards you.

Oh shit.

You gesture for him to get down before he draws their attention. The last thing you want to explain is why you’re on your knees in Hoseok’s kitchen with a very shirtless Jungkook standing close by. He obliges your silent request, squatting down beside you.

“Feel how hard you made me?” Hobi chuckles quietly.

The girl giggles, her voice growing closer. “You gonna fuck me right here or what?”

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Naughty girl. What if my roommate wakes up? Looks like he has a friend over too. You really want them to see what a dirty slut you are?”

You can hear her giggle as he directs her where to go, failing to keep his voice down so you hear every filthy thing he says after. Your hands fly to cover your mouth. Is your skin made of lava? You want to blame it on the close proximity to Jungkook, but the only thing you can imagine is Hoseok’s dick and the eager mystery woman about to be impaled by it. Can you scrub your brain of this memory? How are you supposed to look at him after this?

Jungkook watches your face carefully, trying his hardest not to laugh. Your eyes look so big he’s pretty sure they could roll out of your skull any second. Are you really so innocent? The way you cover your mouth says you are, but maybe it’s just the shock. Maybe you’re just trying to not laugh. Or scream. Or breathe? It kind of looks like you might pass out.

Are you gonna make it, princess? he wonders.

Once you hear Hoseok's bedroom door close, you fuss your hands over your hair and scramble to your feet, releasing a big exhale. The hushed words fall from your lips while you scurry away like a timid mouse. "I should go."

Despite being too far to make contact, he reaches out as you round the counter. "Wait—"

As soon as the word leaves his mouth he struggles to come up with the rest of his statement. There’s no reason to keep you here, except to maybe laugh a little about what just happened to smooth over any second-hand embarrassment. So why doesn’t he want you to go?

He swallows down the blank space caught in his throat and searches every last crevice of his brain for something of import to say. Guilt weighs his gut down, though there isn’t a clear cause. He’s probably screwed something up again without realizing it.

“Thanks for giving me another shot,” he says softly.

You breathe a sigh of relief and offer a tiny smile as you half turn, your hand already on the door handle. “Don’t blow it.”

He nods with a smile. “I won’t. Goodnight.”

“‘Night,” you mumble.

As soon as the door is closed you practically sprint down the hall to lock yourself within your apartment. Maybe it will also lock out all the mistakes your brain has made tonight.

The world feels colder now that you’re not pressed against the human-shaped heater that is Jeon Jungkook. Thinking about him makes your heart swell and ache at the same time. Regardless of how badly you wish you'd asked him to bed, you know loneliness is fleeting and guilt would be a far worse feeling to be saddled with.

⊱ ────── {.⋅ ✯ ⋅.} ────── ⊰

Jungkook picks up the fallen chair, finding your soft, worn hoodie draped over it. Rubbing a thumb over the material, he considers running it back to you, but he can't remember which door is yours. It's not like he's been here often enough to know. Instead he slips his arms through the sleeves before flipping the hood over his head.

He settles on the floor in the space he previously claimed for the night, pulling a blanket out from under Yoongi's ass. Yoongi rolls his head up, a scowl on his features though his eyes remain closed. He grumbles but lies down, facing the couch.

Jungkook regards his friend for a moment before deciding to drape the blanket over him instead of claiming it for himself. Jungkook rolls onto his side and fluffs the throw pillow under his head. As he watches the credits roll on the TV, he nuzzles into your sweater.

He closes his eyes, thinking of you. He knows he shouldn't linger on the little occurrences of the night, especially with how foggy his brain is. He can't trust anything about his memory.

Still he thinks of the way your fingers trailed along his arm and curled tightly around his bicep. He lets himself dwell on the tiny sound you made, the involuntary tremble of your body, and the subsequent hitch in your breath.

He smiles and inhales the subtle scent you've left behind. A new spark of adrenaline fans flames that inflate his ego, spreading warmth from his stomach up into his chest. The world may wobble around him right now, but the little magical warmth within his gut helps him comfortably drift off to dreamland like he's the world's most immovable object.