#in all seriousness. this is probably one of the most embarrassing and self indulgent things i've ever written. having a great time over her

[torchickentacos]

you ever scroll past some sort of discourse that you didn't even know existed, and you have to take a second and realize that, while none of us are superior to others, some of us ARE much better at choosing which dumbass hills to die on? because I think sometimes you deserve to go 'huh. at least I'm not getting involved in all that'.

[roseyodditea]

Dance Practice - Diluc x gn! Reader

Summary -> 800 ish words (probably). Diluc attempts to teach you how to waltz.

Warnings -> None

A/N -> You know the drill: Not proof read and self indulgent. Also feel free to send in requests. I'm trying to think of ideas that aren't just for Wriothesley and Boothill. Can't show my favoritism too hard

Your fork fell against the nice plate, the loud sound echoing through the halls of Dawn Winery. “What?” Diluc looks up from his own dinner, a confused look in those big, red eyes. “It’s rather customary. It’s just a small celebration for the top investors. My father set the standard that they be ballroom style with some hors d’oeuvres, some nice wine, nothing too extravagant.”

“And I will be expected to go?” “Why yes, you’re my partner. There have been plenty of rumors about you and the investors would love to meet you. Quite frankly, I’d love the opportunity to show you off. It makes the idea of hosting one of these parties worth it..” He said with nothing but pure adoration in his voice. But it did nothing to soothe the way your heart dropped in your chest, nerves turning your blood ice cold.

“Big party huh? Tuxes, dresses, all those prying eyes?” “Hardly prying. They’re so self absorbed they’ll barely remember what else they talk about during the party.” He shrugs and takes another bite of his food. 

“‘Luc… Darling.” You try to hide the way your voice quivers. “You really want me there?” “Of course I do, why would I not?” He places his hand on top of yours, rubbing a thumb gently across the back of your hand. 

“I want you to think really hard about the differences of our upbringings.” You always try to gently remind him that your childhood was nothing like his, and he always seemed so slow to remember. 

“I don’t… oh.” A flash of guilt crosses his face. “I suppose I should have told you about it more than a weekend in advance.”

“Yeah. Probably.” You could do nothing else but offer a soft chuckle. “I don’t know the first thing about any fancy parties. I don’t want to embarrass you.” “Nonsense. I’ll have Adeline take your measurements tomorrow and you and her can pick out your outfit of choice tomorrow. I’ve got a good tailor who’ll rush the alters.” He responds casually and continues to eat his dinner, yours now going cold. It was hard to have an appetite with the sudden rush of nervousness. 

“That’s not all I’m worried about. It’s the whole… behaving properly, the dancing, the not knowing which fork goes where-” “It’s not a dinner party, love, there won’t be any forks.” “That’s not my point and you know it.” You sigh, defeated.

Diluc places his fork down and moves to sit next to you, rubbing his hand across your back. “You’re right. I need to be taking this more seriously. I can’t say I understand how nervous you are right now, but the least I can do is help you through it. May I ask what’s stressing you out the most?” His voice held emotion he dare not show in front of other people. 

“I think… The dancing. They’re going to expect me to dance with you at least once, I assume?” “Yeah. They will. But it’ll be okay.” Diluc hums softly. “Just follow my lead, relax, and only pay attention to me, and you’ll do great..” He places his lips against your temple. 

“I’ve never ballroom danced before. They always make it look so… complicated.” You pok at your food some more.

“Not at all. Come here.” He took your hand and pulls you out of your seat. He moves to put on some classical music. 

“Diluc we don’t have to do this right now-” You try to protest but he steppes in front of you, tying up his hair… Your greatest weakness. 

“Relax.” He said softly. “Just a simple waltz.” He takes your right hand in his. “Just place your other hand right beneath my shoulder blade.” You stood chest to chest with him, his hand resting on your back. 

“Seems rather close.” You chuckle and ignore the way he always made your heart race. 

“It’s supposed to be close. Just relax and follow my lead.” He steps slowly, letting you mirror his every move. 

You were starting to get the hang of it, eventually allowing the two of you to step in time to the music drifting softly in the background. “This is it?”

“It would be it if you stopped looking at your feet, darling.” You look up into his eyes only to realize how gently he was looking down at you. His movements are fluid and practiced, allowing him to focus all of his attention on you. Even with your clumsy movement, he looks at you like you are the most graceful thing in all of Teyvat. “You know… I’ve always wanted to dance with you like this.” 

“Diluc…” Your voice was soft, mirroring his loving tone. You move to rest your head on his chest, your hand sliding down from his shoulder blade down to his lower back, pulling him even closer as you continue to follow his steps. 

“I love you.” He whispers against the top of your head. “I love you too…” You nuzzle further into him. “I’m not too good at this, am I?” “Absolutely abysmal. We’ll work on it.” 

[offorestsongs]

THE ORANGE PEEL THEORY, BUT WITH MY OC X CANON'S

summary; literary just the "would you peel an orange for me?" thing but with my oc x canon ships (feat. Rook, Floyd, Vil & Riddle). that's all that's it

author's note; this is so very self indulgent forgive me. ALSO if there's any mistakes pretend there aren't its like 5am for me rn

LILYARROW

♡ “Uh, hey, would you peel this for me?”

♡ Lysander feels a bit silly asking for this; he knows Rook would bring him a piece of heaven if he just asked, there is no need for silly tests. But Cater had mentioned the idea a few days ago, and for one reason or another, it had stuck with Lysander.

♡ It’s just for fun, he tells himself, no harm in that.

♡ Rook smiles softly as he takes the orange out of Lysander’s hands.

♡ “But of course, mon fleur. Let’s give your pretty hands a rest, shall we?”

♡ It’s kind of stupid, Lysander thinks, how watching his boyfriend peel an orange for him makes him feel like basking in the sun. Maybe there is a point to this whole thing after all - it is still sweet to have such tangible proof that somebody cares. 

♡ If Rook knows he's being put to a test (and he most probably knows, let's be real) he doesn't show it in any way. 

♡ He treats the orange peeling with the seriousness of a military order. And he even takes off the gross white parts that Lysander hates!

♡ “Mhm. Now open your mouth~”

♡ Lysander blushes, a vivid pink on his pale cheeks. “You- You really don’t have to! It’s fine!”

♡ “Oh, but I do. It’s an honor, really.”

♡ Lysander never had much of a strong will, not when it came to Rook, anyway. He puts his embarrassment aside and lets Rook hand feed him the orange, piece by piece.

BLUEGLASS

♡ There’s no point in testing their relationships because they’re very much not in a relationship. A few (a lot) make out sessions in the dark corners of the school’s hallways do not a relationship make.

♡ And yet there Kalle is, in the Octavinelle Lounge, when it’s just them and Floyd, that stupid orange in hand.

♡ They know it’s a bad idea before they even ask.

♡ “Wanna peel this for me?”

♡ Floyd (the audacity!) laughs.

♡ “Nice try, fishie,” he says, still looking smug and amused, and annoying (so — like usual). “You don't think I'm stupid, don't ya?”

♡ “It's just an orange, Leech. It's not like you have anything to do anyways.”

♡ Floyd gives them a long look. “Yea, no. I don't think I feel like it.”

♡ Well. That was about what Kalle was expecting.

♡ Floyd leans over, in one swift motion takes the orange out of Kalle's hand m. Kalle doesn't even have it in themselves to protest.

♡ It's not like they care. It's just a stupid trend and a stupid orange, and a stupid eel. They don't care the slightest bit about any of this. 

♡ Floyd throws and catches the orange, looks it over carefully. For a brief, horrifying second, Kalle expects him to bite into it like an apple.

♡ But no. He peels it like a normal, well adjusted person then breaks it in half.

♡ “Here ya go, fishie. Happy now?”

♡ He throws half of the orange at Kalle. They're too surprised to actually catch it, letting the fruit fall on their lap.

♡ “Yeah. Thanks,” they mutter.

♡ When the silence falls between them, neither of them seem particularly happy.

THORNQUEEN

♡ “Vil, my darling dearest, my sweetest heart, the light of my worthless life, the apple of my eye, the—”

♡ Vil rolls his eyes. “Stop this,” he cuts in before Rosienne can continue with his tirade. “Spending so much time with Rook is bad for you. Just tell me what you want.”

♡ Rosienne grins.

♡ “Would you do me a favor and kindly peel this orange for me?”

♡ He’s being silly, he knows it well, but he can't help it. Rosienne's heart is an ugly, thorny thing that without constant reassurances will rot and wither. 

♡ Vil raises an eyebrow. “Really, dear, really? Is that what we're doing now?”

♡ Of course he instantly figured it out. It's Vil, after all.

♡ “Hey now! I was trying to be romantic, alright!”

♡ “No, you're being silly. Do you really think you need to put me to a test? Because if so, that's frankly quite insulting.”

♡ Both his tone and stare are as cold as the darkest months of winter and Rosienne is ready to start spilling apologies.

♡ And then Vil leans over to place a light kiss on Rosienne's forehead.

♡ “I will still peel it for you, if you just want the orange. They're good for your health either way.”

♡ Rosienne feels like he may cry. 

♡ “...yeah, yeah I do.” He takes a second to take a deep breath, trying to keep the tears at bay. Sometimes he hates how easily crying comes to him. “Thank you.”

GLASSROSE

♡ For Eliott, it's less of a test and more of a cute little game. He loves Riddle more than the world itself, but he just wants to see Riddle’s reaction. For the fun of it, nothing more.

♡ At least there was a very low chance Riddle would know it's a trend — the boy didn't even know how to use most social media, bless his heart.

♡ “Would Her Majesty be so kind as to peel this orange for me?” Eliott asks, not even trying to contain his amusement.

♡ Riddle eyes him over carefully. He's definitely suspicious, taught by experience that his boyfriend is prone to coming up with various schemes, but finally comes to the conclusion that it can't be anything harmful.

♡ “Of course,” he just says, nodding.

♡ Eliott beams. “I love you so much. Have I told you that already? Because I do. So much.”

♡ The blush that blossoms on Riddle’s cheeks is maybe the most delightful thing Eliott has seen today. “Quite a lot, yes.”

♡ He peels the orange, quick and clean, then passes it back to Eliott.

♡ “You should have a half,” Eliott offers. “It's only fair.”

♡ Sometimes i love you is a neat little pile of orange peels. Sometimes i love you is an orange shared in half.

♡ When Riddle smiles at his boyfriend, it's soft.

[hyewka]

There really has been no dom beomgyu smuts lately as a switch myself I’m a little sad haha but I also find it really funny but I don’t think there’s a lot of sub beomgyu smuts just because people think beomgyu is submissive because honestly I just think the whole of txt are switches and I think dynamics also really depend on what kind of partner you have as well so I wouldn’t say someone is dominant or someone is submissive. I think reading femdom smuts is just a lot more fun to read and probably to write because I feel like normal ones can get quite repetitive and it feels more exhilarating and powerful even if you aren’t actually a dom irl it’s nice to see women being more dominant with men because in real a lot of guys have quite a fragile masculinity with it. Also txt tumblr is quite small compared to other kpop writing communities I’ve seen, there isn’t actually that many consistent blogs on here and so actual smuts on any txt members have actually been quite sparse. I’d say sub beomgyu became a thing because of the blueprint blogs that kickstarted it such as wildernessuntothemselves I had never really seen submissive beomgyu until they came around and other blogs such as you and fairyofshampgyu inspired others to write sub beomgyu because those blogs were the only really ones consistent and kickstarting this. Haha I don’t know why this is so long but hopefully it is somewhat coherent!

Definitely agree with the femdom writing being fun-- like, you don't need to be a dom in real life to enjoy writing it and that is the case for me 😅 This is a little bit of a contradiction to your earlier statement but I genuinely do not believe I have one percentage of dominant energy, completely submissive over the years with my relationships (but I'm starting to doubt it just a little bit after getting into femdom content so....idk 😂). Yes, yes about the women being more powerful kind of serving as an exhilarating experience even when just writing it-- is it a little embarrassing to admit that most of my smut are incredibly self indulgent? Lol I seriously just cannot with meeting so many men who have fragile masculinity, working with them, talking with them-- it just bleeds through every interaction it's aggravating! Writing it as a fantasy of putting someone "in their place", definitely like a reliever after having to put up with it practically every day of my life.

Point made with TXT tumblr being small! Did a quick comparison to other 4th gen boy groups and it's a little odd how significant the difference is at times? 😂 Yet the smut tag has more people posting under (maybe that changed over the past few months and fluff is what people are leaning more towards?) even though there's definitely a sparse number of consistent blogs (which would naturally equate to less variety in content).

Ha! I was on here earlier than I started posting like most people are on tumblr, and I'd have to say that your observation skills are so good because lol yes, @wildernessuntothemselves (heh sorry for tagging you mort but i just might want you to see this 😂) was definitely a blog I first got introduced to with sub!beomgyu like, just hardcore, straight up whiny boy and a powerful woman (lover = loser fic...ah, very delicious).

There were definitely some fics here and there, but kick starting it, I'd want to give that credit to her! After a bit, @fairyofshampgyu came out with their fuck you series, and I'd say both are sort of the blueprint of the recent rising in seeing beomgyu as a very strong sub. Before this, you'd see one of those MTL posts and almost always Beomgyu is categorized as a hardcore dom, and now I almost get shocked seeing Beomgyu being considered more of a sub than Hueningkai and Soobin (who were often seen as softer doms or just sub men in general).

I wasn't even meaning to turn this blog into a sort of sub!beomgyu cult of fics, like...at all so I find it funny that I'm jumbled together with a more experienced writer like Nia 😂 But yeah, some really good points. It's just funny how a few months ago I was desperately looking for anything sub!beomgyu related (to the point i created this blog in hopes of receiving sub beomgyu requests), just a tinge because everything under the smut tag was hardcore dom, I wouldn't have imagined the tables would turn so quickly especially considering male subs aren't particularly that popular comparative to their counterparts.

I do feel for people who are sub leaning, content is sparse with txt in general-- and for people to get even simply blocked for requesting a dominant beomgyu? A... little insane 😅? I even remember this sort of thing being brought up around three months ago, someone talking about how they see Beomgyu as a complete dom and do not understand that appeal of the recent surge of sub Beomgyu-- perception is different, and I do wish for you and others to get more dominant Beomgyu fics, everyone deserves a little treat 😭

[whysamwhy123]

for the ask game, 14, 18 and 27!

14) If you could see one of your fics adapted into a visual medium, such as comic or film, which fan fic would you pick?

Ooh, this is an interesting one! I'd be cheating if I said the first thing that came to mind (because it's an AU I haven't actually written, just thought about a lot, and I think it would probably work better as a comic or movie or something) so instead I'll say Voice in the Dark. I don't think you could call those fics particularly 'cinematic', but I think it'd be fun to see them in live action, preferably by a director who knows how to make dialogue-heavy scenes visually appealing.

18) What’s one of your favorite lines you’ve written in a fic?

Tough one, I don't think I'm particularly good at killer lines. For some reason, I'm tempted to say this incredibly mundane line from Voice in the Dark Part Two, just because when I wrote it, I decided it was the most relatable thing I've ever written.

Hook opened up the fridge and glared at its lack of contents.

But looking back on that same fic, I'm also fond of the Wham Line when Evilhausen has a little slip of the tongue and demands to know, ''Then why won't you let me fuck you?!'' I went back and forth a lot on whether to take that line out or not, but ultimately, I'm glad I left it in. I swear it's more impactful in context!

27) Is there a fic you were nervous to post/share? Why?

Honestly, all of them. I am but an insecure being full of intense shame and self-loathing. And writing's such a personal thing, it's true what they say about how you're basically putting a piece of your soul out there for people's perusal. I always gets nervous before posting anything, like ''Well, here's hoping I don't embarrass myself too much!'' I'd say I was probably the most embarrassed about posting Business/Pleasure (my incredibly trashy, self-indulgent uber-rarepair Ricky/Christian sugar baby AU) because I knew it was such Trash and for a pairing that only one other person had written before (and I shamelessly ripped that person off in the process, whoops! 😬) And the worst part is...I'm seriously thinking about trying to continue that fic and make it a big multi-chapter monstrosity. Oh, the lack of humanity...

[doomeddiary]

I pretty recently came across one of those ask game posts and in the format of "what color am i" with an edited png full of custom responses by the op and many of them were racy~~~ (breeding+watersports+more uwu) but one of them said something along the lines of "i want you to kidnap me and turn me into a snuff film star" and that made me go hmmm. Let me go and check this blog and see if what im feeling is the internal ping of intuitive pattern recognition or if this is something else, and as I'd come to find out no, miss mamas did have incest+rape paraphilias. Sad! Demoralizing! Blocked immediately! But i was still thinking about it.

(Readmore bc this gets long and rambly and tmi, cw for discussion on sexualized violence and mildly self fellating reflection over the nature of it and whatnot)

And i was thinking on how the first thing that made me pause was the innocent almost coquettish usage of "snuff" as a sexy fun cute concept, and trying to figure out what was the difference between her fetishization and eroticizing of violence and my own sexual proclivities.

Like being tmi open and honest mask off etc etc, I am heavily into bdsm, and i also love body horror. i adore blood and gore and guts and whatnot on an aesthetic and sexual level. It is largely fantasy as many of the plays id like to do are not safe or sane and i take safety very seriously, but its still something i know i am deeply attracted to and find erotic to fantasize about. So I did notice the parallels of my own deviant~ sexual tastes and hers, and i was upset and uncomfortable with those similarities bc again miss mamas is out here posting about wanting to rape st*ve h*rrington off ST like EEP... JEEPERS! and i wanted to unpack that thought and what real differences there were between these kinds of fantasies, and while my friends reassured me with "nooo youre into it differently/they're just doing it different" i didn't like the vagueness, because what is the difference?

And well I figured out pretty quickly and swiftly that it is ofc consent, which is funny given the context of "how are thy violent sexual fantasies different from thine" but yeah, while I am very into the idea of gore and blood and mutilation, it's only if like, my sub is also into it. And that they're miraculously ok afterwards. I am barred from ever being able to do any of my dream plays in real life because it would not be safe and anyone who would consent to them would probably have such a damaged or altered state of mind that any "consent" would be null and void so while its slightly embarrassing to admit, most of the time i envision fictional characters who are functionally unkillable due to some kind of heal ability or resurrection mechanic where they're not only able to enthusiastically consent but theyre ALSO ok afterwards! And its not my sole source of pleasure, i like vanilla sex as much as anyone, but it is one of those things that i know i love but will never indulge in, because i cannot and will not seriously maim or injure another person.

Anyways, all that to say that whenever i run across the "snuff as a cute sexy thing" girlies its pretty clear that the finality and lack of consent is the main draw. The idea of having your autonomy stripped from you or others as it would happen in real life is what is attractive and that will just never sit right with me, it is so clearly unsettling and unattractive to me. And yes, on its face they are both violent sexual fantasies that she likely won't be indulging in either, and I do not doubt that most regular everyday people would find my proclivities just as frightening no matter how fervently i reiterated how I'd never hurt a fly etc etc, but to me, the fetishization of removing consent is a significant aspect.

So, returning to the "snuff" aspect. The way i see it and rationalize it to myself, these kinds of crimes of violent misogyny and femicide happen literally everyday and are not titillating and having that kind of violence and removal of consent be such a central part of your sexuality is different, it changes the context of everything, I don't care anymore that it's just a "fantasy" because what you're really fantasizing about is emblematic at its core of the real violence worldwide. No fucking wonder she also had incest+rape paraphilias. Anyways.

tl;dr my sexualized violent fantasy is better than yours because the people in my imaginary fantasy fully consent and are having fun and we're all going to kiss and cuddle afterwards

[nothieflike]

Guardians of the Galaxy, Vol. 3 (2023)

★★★★☆

Written and Directed by: James Gunn

Based on the Comic Book series by: Marvel Comics (Arnold Drake and Gene Colan)

The last film I reviewed for this blog before I sort of let it peter out was 2012's The Avengers. Obviously a lot of Marvel Cinematic Universe... er, stuff occurred in the intervening years. All three Spider-Man movies, for one thing, but also any mention of Black Panther, Doctor Strange, Scarlet Witch, Captain Marvel, Ant-Man, even the Infinity Stones. Heck, the first glimpse of Thanos came during the mid-credits bonus scene at the end of The Avengers. And, of course, in between that review and this one, we got two Guardians of the Galaxy films.

I won't get into my thoughts on those two previous films except to say that I understand why these films have been so frequently emulated in the years since the release of the first one. It's a formula for an ensemble movie where the characters are (probably) not known ahead of time, but by the end there is enough work put in to make the audience genuinely care. So with James Gunn apparently signing off from the MCU to take the reigns on a new chapter of DC films, Vol. 3 exists here in a space where the MCU has floundered a bit (or a lot, depending on your point of view) since the conclusion of The Infinity Saga and we see what Gunn's Guardians franchise is going to do to right the ship.

The answer, it turns out, is: nothing. Guardians Vol. 3 does not make any effort to "fix" The Multiverse Saga, Phase 4, or the MCU. Well, except in one specific way: Vol. 3 returns to a strategy that served the MCU extremely well in earlier eras which is that it sets out to make a solid action/adventure film first and leaves all the inter-connected broader universe stuff either to the backstories, the post-credits scenes, or just other franchises/films. And it's fairly obvious that is absolutely the right move to make. Guardians has been a bit of an outlier in the MCU for some time in that they are team movies but not team-UP movies. But the fairly minor flaws of this film don't have anything to do with it feeling distant from any of the Kang/Thunderbolts/Celestials nonsense going on elsewhere. That's a feature, not a bug.

So, what holds Vol. 3 back from true greatness? Mostly it comes from a trend in the cinematic universe model that has been in place since Avengers: Endgame, and that's catering to the most indulgent excesses from the comic book arm of Marvel. See, in the early days of the MCU, Marvel Studios rightly recognized that movies based on comic books needed to do several things simultaneously: firstly, appeal to broad audiences mostly by focusing on being self-contained and well executed films in their own right but secondly, they needed to also be as unassailable as possible by the hardcore comic book nerds who constituted the very core of the movie's audience. Plenty of earlier "successful" comic adaptations (Byran Singer's X-Men films from the 90s, for example, as well as edgier adaptations like Batman Begins and 2003's Hulk) seemed quite often to be embarrassed by their brightly-colored source material. They downplayed the elements that had originally endeared some of the characters to comics fans in favor of mass appeal, often in ways that quickly dated them. Marvel Studios though decided that the thing holding super hero movies back wasn't flashy costumes or somewhat trope-y, goofy fantastic elements but rather a self-seriousness that sucked the inherent fun out of escapism. And, ultimately, they were right.

Very, very right. The problem though? They were almost too right. For about ten years Marvel Studios stuck to a particular formula for making their movies fun and approachable and true enough to their funnybook roots that they avoided hardcore nerd outcry while gaining huge amounts of new fans who maybe otherwise had little to no use for comics themselves. But no one can keep a streak like that up forever. So what happened?

My theory is that Endgame happened. And it didn't just happen, it was (and still is as of this writing) the biggest MCU film in terms of box office grosses. It crushed. Looking at the overall plot of Endgame, it really did feel more like a direct adaptation from a Marvel Comics summer crossover event: time travel, alternate realities, key character deaths, the whole shebang. Up until this point Marvel Studios had been smoothing over some of the more comic-book-y elements of their storylines, running a riff on their Ultimate line where popular, foundational elements of the modern myths they traffic in were given a fresh pass under the guise of expanding the audience. But it worked so well, pleasing core comic fans with it's rootsy takes while gently easing moviegoing audiences into their world, they learned the wrong lesson.

The lesson they should have learned: don't stop doing that.

The lesson they did learn: if everyone loves every risk we take (galactic setting? portal wizards? funny Thor? yes, please!), we got so much more where that came from!

Which starts the straight line that leads us past unmentioned-afterward canon including: dueling myth-gods, literal Zeus, half-hatched god eggs, robot K.E.V.I.N (Feige), alligator Loki, and a giant popped-out eyeball in New York City. Oh and, like, Kang.

Now, to be fair, most of those things would feel a lot more at place in a Guardians of the Galaxy movie. As in, it's pretty weird they aren't the excesses Vol. 3 is guilty of. Rather, Vol. 3 reaches into the vault of dark, over-expository sorta-allegories straight from the fashionable grim-n-gritty late 90s era of the comics. It decides to push boundaries even beyond what a Sam Raimi MCU film felt inclined to push. And it does it all while daring to have a happy ending.

Vol. 3 picks up somewhere after the events of the Disney+ Holiday Special, which is (I believe) where we learned the Guardians had inducted Kraglin and Cosmo the dog and set up shop over in Knowhere with a bunch of... friends? Locals? Refugees? It's not clear. What is clear is that Guardians' leader Peter "Star-Lord" Quill (played with an unexpected complexity by Chris Pratt) is still struggling with the loss of the teammate Gamora (played here with as much nuance as possible by Zoe Saldana given the disservice the script pays her) he'd fallen in love with, particularly in light of the fact that a version of her lives on somewhere out in the universe, at best hostile toward him and at worst indifferent. A gold-skinned guy arrives, wreaking havoc, seeming fixated on Rocket (voiced with a lot less wise-cracking than usual by Bradley Cooper) and manages to mortally wound the mutated raccoon. When they try to heal him, they discover Rocket's creator put a kill switch into him and if they try to operate without removing it, he'll die.

This sends the Guardians on a desperate quest to find a way to save Rocket by digging into the past of his creator, a being who calls himself the High Evolutionary (played with a vulnerable gravitas by Chukwudi Iwuji). As the team crosses paths with Gamora and the Ravager faction she's been running with for the inevitable awkward reunion between her and Star-Lord, the film then begins cutting back and forth to the time when Rocket, well, became Rocket.

It's here that the film makes a choice to swerve hard into the pitch black in tone and visual aesthetic. The scenes of Rocket's creation and the introduction of his fellow discarded experiments are harrowing, ghastly things that might as well flash a bright yellow, all-caps title card: "ANIMAL EXPERIMENTATION IS ANIMAL CRUELTY!" Or maybe just, "HURTING ANIMALS IS EVIL!" It's a lot, in all honesty and I was very glad I pre-screened this before taking my kids to see it.

Eventually the Guardians track down the High Evolutionary on a planet called Counter-Earth, which he created as part of his quest to fabricate a perfect utopian society. Here, again with the dark, we get essentially a genocide that occurs without much more than a passing mention by the main characters. And, y'know, narratively it mostly serves as a ticking clock and bit of chaos to keep the team from forming Voltron and making short work of the film's conflict before we can wring a bit more pathos out of the audiences' greater concern for a computer-animated raccoon than an entire planet of sentient and uncomfortably human-adjacent animal hybrid people.

The rest of the movie takes a few more dark swerves which really felt like the movie was setting me up for a huge gutpunch of an ending. I was thinking, fool me thrice, or whatever but I see where this is going. And then it swerves again and says, "actually no, you know what, sometimes things really suck a lot but then it turns out to be some flavor of all right." And it sorta turned out I was right because while I was waiting for the inevitable slug to the breadbasket, I got a different, gentler strike and dammit if it wasn't even more effective because of it.

I know it sounds a lot like I have some pretty major gripes with the film and I did find it's brazen and ballsy approach to the MCU as a bit off-putting. Buuut... the last several tentpole MCU entries that have been trying to stick with "the formula" have been pretty off-putting as well so even if I didn't say anything else positive at all, I'd still have to give it to Vol. 3 for at least failing to stick the landing in a novel fashion. And I genuinely do have a lot of positive things to say about this movie. The dynamic between the characters is loose and feels lived in, no matter what configuration is on screen at the time. I'd go so far as to say the acting is all best in Cinematic Universe for these characters. Not only do Pratt and Saldana do a fantastic job with adding new layers to their performances that carry the backstory in a way that means they have to do only minimal "as-you-know-bob"ing to sell their scenes. Unsung heroes abound as well from Pom Klementieff's smooth portrayal of a woman growing into an affinity for compassionate leadership to Karen Gillan's deft and subtle arc of "How Nebula Got Her Groove Back." Even Cooper manages to deliver a stellar vocal performance, really dragging the audience that extra few feet across the finish line to genuine concern for... well, for a computer-animated raccoon.

The stakes are smaller than expected but the satisfaction of the resolution is so rewarding it feels like it's been a bigger journey than even saving the universe with a dance contest. The soundtrack adds the same kind of welcome texture to scenes as ever, the visual effects are great, and though there are fewer jokes than earlier entries, when they do come they mostly all work. I could cite a few more minor bits of both nitpicking (Groot's regeneration ability seems very ill-defined and at this point amounts to "it's just whatever we need it to be for the current scene") and complimentary (the way they handle the lampshading on Groot's signature dialogue is super satisfying and wonderfully subtle), but I think I can summarize it all with this: it's not perfect, but it kind of feels like exactly what we needed right now. And if that doesn't summarize the Guardians of the Galaxy, I don't know what does.

I recommend Vol. 3, with the minor warning that it has some squirmy, uncomfortable scenes and subject matter. If you have some younger kids who have enjoyed previous Marvel films or if you're a squeamish type who generally finds nothing distasteful about these films, tread carefully because this one takes even some of the shocking moments from Doctor Strange in the Multiverse of Madness and more or less says, "hold my beer." But if you can stomach it, it's one of the best Marvel features in a long time and well worth the wait.

[keenvictory]

Hello Lovely~ : ̗̀➛

Synopsis: Xyx can’t help the terrible crush he has on you, it demands to be heard, to be seen, and seems intent on embarrassing him at every turn. He isn’t sure if it’s better, or worse, that the two of you are already dating. 

: ̗̀➛ Featured Characters: Xyx x Gn!Reader

̗̀➛ Content Warnings: No warnings needed.

̗̀➛  Additional notes: Happy 2k Bloomini discord community, have this incredibly self-indulgent offering in this time of celebration. Xyx deserves all the love, and I believe I have thoroughly doted on him in this little fic. Have a great rest of your day or night, and thank you for reading. 

Yours Faithfully, V.      

The way you made his heart flutter was criminal. Xyx had already decided it, had drawn up the exact regulations it broke, making sure to dot his I’s and cross his T’s,  pinpointed all the things you did that broke this little law he made, made a note, a tally, of all the times it happened, cross-compared his findings to find the links. His lists only grew larger by the day. It was the most ridiculous things too, that got his heart pounding, he could find no rhyme or reason to it, in his dedicated research.

Once when you chased cat around with one of those feather chain toys, once when he caught you singing so gleefully out of key in the shower, once when you fiddled with the little chain necklace he’d bought you to get the charm to lay just so.

Once when you smiled at him. It was only a smile. Such a mundane thing, really. He’d passed you a cup of tea, you’d beamed at him over the rim of the mug, and suddenly it was all he could do to stop himself from dropping the damn thing all over the both of you. Heart hammering like a school boy, what was he, twelve? All sweaty hands and nervous glances. At times he felt worse then Toaster, and that poor guy couldn’t flirt with a portrait without stuttering.

Well, he’d only almost embarrassed himself over your smile once. He could live with that. He’d managed to impress you enough with his suave debonair that one little slip up would probably go unnoticed, right? That shake of the hands and a frantic flutter of the heart over the sweet grin on your face was an outlier, an exception to the norm.

Until it wasn’t. It happened twice, and then a third time. By the fifth, when he stumbled over the rug after watching you smile down at Cat, he started to wonder if something was seriously wrong with him. You’d only laughed at him, sure these little slip ups were part of some joke he hadn’t revealed the punchline of just yet, and for that he was… thankful? He didn’t know. Part of him wanted to keep it a tight-lipped secret, breezing off each little incident as nothing, even though his research clearly showed otherwise. But part of him longed to have you know. He couldn’t think why, what he might gain from your realisation that suddenly your every fucking move made him red-faced and sweaty-palmed. At best you’d be infuriatingly smug over your new-found power over him, he knew full well he would be, and at worst you’d be… creeped out. Unnerved. That was one of the last things he wanted, and yet he reveled in the idea of telling you, of having you say the same, that secretly you’d felt the same way all the time and that…that….

The realization struck him late at night, sitting up straight in bed, to the confused mews of cat bundled securely in his arms. It was like a crush. This terrifying hold you’d gained on him suddenly, was nothing more then a crush. Well, what use was that. You’d already expressed your feelings to him years ago, the two of you LIVED together for fucks sake, it was well-established that you loved each other and yet… Here he was, with a stupid, interfering little crush on his partner.

It was ridiculous. And infuriating. He thought he was long past that embarrassing little phase, but here it was, rearing it’s ugly head to remind him how helplessly smitten he was with you. Well, there was nothing to be done about it really. So what if he had a crush on you? You’d had a crush on him once too you know.

Xyx had planned to keep it a cheesy little secret. A sweet thing he muttered when he was certain you were fast asleep, an embarrassing problem he vented to cat when it was only him and the little thief left in the apartment, a secret he definitely did not share with anyone in the server. BigLady would never let him live it down. As much as he wanted to tell you, as much as he loved you, and he desperately, heart-achingly loved you, he still had his pride.

It was exhilarating, in a way. The electric spark in his chest whenever your eyes met, the blaze of heat you leave behind when you nudge his shoulder for more room washing dishes together, the way he thought he’d simply fucking combust and die on your doorstep when you kissed him goodbye each morning. He could let himself indulge in all the quiet, meaningful nothings of a fleeting crush all over again, without fear of your knowing smirk or teasing gaze. Was it so wrong of him to want to admire you?

So he’d keep it a secret. From everyone, for now. Well, everyone except Cat, but he knew if anyone in that house could keep a secret it was that little bastard. Cat had managed to hide a hairball in your bed for hours before the pair of you had found it, and then rolled on their back as innocent as ever, the fiend.

But well, when did things ever go to plan, when it came to the three of you?

It was cats fault, Xyx was certain of it. The two of you were cooking, a domestic little treat that threatened to send his heart into overdrive if he thought too hard about it. You’d been determined to make your own garlic bread, the dough laid out on a flour splattered counter. It was a peaceful, content evening of cooking and relaxation after a long day of work. Until all hell broke lose.

Cat jumped on the counter while your backs were turned, leaving perfect paw-prints in the dusted flour. They’d just sunk their little footsies into the dough when you turned around, your disapproving laughter sending a shockwave of sappy affection through all the parts of his brain that he needed for common sense. He ran a hand through his hair to calm himself, leaving a white trail of flour behind. In turn, your laughter only increased, grabbing his face with your own flour covered hands and leaving white streaks in your wake. Xyx grinned, tilting his head to press a fleeting kiss to your nose.

“Now look what you’ve done, Doll, I’m a mess.” Your sheepish grin did nothing to calm the racing of his heart, and he shook his head affectionately. “You’re lucky you’re so cute you know, I wouldn’t let you get away with half the things I do if I didn’t have this ridiculous crush on you.”

The words were out in the air before he could stop them. He stilled, you stilled, even cat, who was quite contently continuing their art project in your precious dough, went motionless.

“I didn’t… I mean-“ He searched his love-addled brain for a reasonable excuse, but all he could think about was the excited look blooming in your eyes. “I didn’t mean anything by that just forget it- What! Quit laughing at me, bunny, you know, you had a crush on me first so really, if anyone should be embarrassed here it’s you-“

His ramblings were cut short when a fistful of flour hit his chest. His frantic excuses had given you the perfect opportunity to slip your hands from his face and grab a handful of powdery ammunition. His eyes glinted, the familiar thrill of a challenge settling into his skin. He knew you were giving him time to process what he said, what he wanted to tell you, he also knew you’d tease him to hell and back later on, when he was ready. Gods above, he loved you.

“So that’s how it’s gonna be, huh?”

And the flour war began. Like fresh-fallen snow, it coated every surface of the kitchen, no one was left unscathed, and no tactic was too underhand. Luring the other in with a kiss, only to smear flour covered hands down their front, or lifting hands to claim a truce, only to gleefully clap them together, sending a dust cloud of flour across the two of you. All was fair in love and war.

As the dust began to settle, his knees nearly buckled as laughter bubbled up through him. He grabbed you by the waist to hold you close, equally pinning your hands to your sides to save his poor flour-covered body from further warfare, and to gently sway with you to the music from the radio. He tucked your head beneath his chin, if only so you wouldn’t see how stupidly red his face was beneath the streaks and smears of battle. He wondered, absently, if you could feel his heart racing? He felt like he’d run a marathon, or taken one of those lethal expert spin classes.

“I love you.” He said, as the two of you slowly danced across a ruined kitchen.

You shook your head, your smile growing impossibly brighter.

“Love? But If I remember correctly, you said you had a crush on me.”

“Haha very funny. Well I do. I can have a crush on you, and love you, I’m a very three dimensional person, wouldn’t you know.”

He kissed you, sweetly, longingly and contently, all at once. His voice lowered, to an almost inaudible whisper.

“And we both know that’ll never change… but I’d love you more if you helped me clean up the kitchen~?”

Your shared laughter rang through the kitchen, as you finally tore away from each-other, taking in the destruction of your poor kitchen. It was dastardly and criminal, what you did to his poor heart.

Xyx wouldn’t have it any other way.

[underqualified-human]

Henry Jekyll NSFW Alphabet

A/N: I feel like I’m going to end up writing a version of this with Hyde. Removed X

Warnings: Massive warning for NSFW themes

Fandom: The strange case of Dr Jekyll and Mr Hyde

Pronouns: No pronouns used for reader

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Henry doesn't have much knowledge about what to do after sex.

You’d definitely have to be the one to bring up your needs to him.

After a discussion he’ll easily get the hang of it

B = Body part (their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Henry’s favourite body part on you is your eyes. He likes to gaze into them, both during intimate moments and randomly throughout the day.

His favourite body part on himself is his neck. He likes when you kiss his neck, both because it’s an intimate gesture and because feeling your lips against his pulse reminds himself he’s still alive.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

He’s pretty basic, prefering to cum inside of you.

Partly because it’s what he’s most comfortable and because knowing a servant has to clean up after an intimate night would be too embarrassing to handle

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Both he and Hyde are into bondage, both giving and receiving. Though Henry prefers to be on the receiving end

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He had zero sexual experience. Most of his time was spent on scientific study.

He’s a fast learner though, so he’ll be quick to know what you like 

F = Favourite position (this goes without saying)

I was originally going to say Missionary but then I decided, you know what? He probably likes being ridden.

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

This man is a doctor in Victorian London. He is making no jokes during sex.

Sometimes takes it a little too seriously

H = Hair (how well-groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

He’d probably only shave once it starts to become an inconvenience for him.

He definitely washes down there as well

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Henry is very intimate during the moment

As stated previously he likes to make eye contact. 

He’ll also be very gentle with his touches

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Rarely masterbates

On the off chance he does it’s usually at night,either because he’s in the mood and doesn't want to wake you or because he can’t sleep

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

As previously stated, he’s really into bondage

Another kink I think he had is praise (receiving). He’s gotten praised for his work before but there’s something special about being praised as a person

L = Location (favourite places to do the do)

Henry greatly values his privacy so I’m inclined to believe he’d only really want to have sex in his bedroom.

He’d maybe agree to have sex in the bathroom with enough convincing 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

There isn't really any specific thing that turns him on, he just gets aroused sometimes.

If you were the one to initiate he’d probably get turned on 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

One of his hard limits is having sex in his lab/office

Not only is there a risk that someone could walk in but there’s also a lot of dangerous chemicals in his lab

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

He actually prefers giving over receiving 

He’s not all that skilled but he is enthusiastic

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

He has a pretty slow pace on most days, some days he’s more rough and frantic with his thrusts

There are also days where he decides to let you take the lead

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Not really into quickies all that much

If you are he’ll indulge you but he usually prefers to take his time when it comes to sex

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

No, odd for a scientist, but no he doesn't like to experiment much

Same goes for risk taking, he has a reputation to uphold so if the risk involves the possibility of someone walking in it’s a hard no

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Henry can go for about 2-3 rounds, he usually gets really tired after 2 but can go for longer on a good day

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

No to all of these, he does not own any sex toys (apparently Victorians did have them though)

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Doesn’t tease much, a lot of the time he’d prefer to get straight to the intimacy aspect

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s usually pretty quiet, mostly just grunts. Occasionally he does let out some loud moans but those are few and far between

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

I feel like he has a bit of a size kink

He is a pretty tall man after all

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

He actually doesnt have all that high of a sex drive, he does get aroused from time to time

Most of the time you’d have to be the one to initiate sex

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

Actually very quickly, some days immediately.

Sometimes he manages to power through enough for some light aftercare.

[ray-jaykub]

May I be the first to indulge friend?

🔒 - what’s something they love a lot that they’re embarrassed to tell others about?

With the four lads? Or maybe just Don and Mikey?

As a thank you to being the bestest friend and writing mate in the world, I'm gonna do all four. Because they're all weird

Warnings: Mentions of internalized homophobia, me projecting

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Leonardo: > Leo, boy wonder, fearless. Whatever name you wanna call him. He is often the cleaner brother, strict morals and often the most polite and respectful of the four.

>It's all quite frankly a lie... partly, anyway

>This man is just as down bad, if not more so, then us readers and writers. That's right, honor boy loves fan-fiction. It's his favorite pastime and quite frankly a border-line addiction. He's written a good bit of his own even! Is it good? Not really. But it helps him cope so why say anything?

>It's mostly about some OCs he made when he was like 15 but when you read it, it's obviously just self insert. He is so bad at hiding the fact this is infact him and that's part of the reason he hides it but it's also because he'd never hear the end of it.

>Master Splinter caught him writing once and asked to read it, he didn't really say anything while reading it and like any parent just said it was good and left it at that. Leo is mortified to this day.

>You would have to be married with kids before this man even lets you know the book exists. You are forbidden from knowing it resides under the mattress, if you did know about it he'd probably burn it. Not because he doesn't trust you! He just knows it's cringe and the love-interest that was introduced is obviously you and he can't handle the humiliation

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Raphael:

>Men. He's embarrassed about liking men. But it's so obvious that he does and no-one ever really talks about it. It's 99% true they all assumed he was, cause Mikey is so obviously open about it and even Don is so everyone is already okay with it. There would be no reason to hide it!

>It'd be more so a masculinity thing for him, especially because he'd be a bottom in a mlm relationship. Joking, joking! But in all seriousness He just feels like it's a flaw and it's internalized, sometimes he'll catch himself appreciating a man, whether on TV or walking the streets and he'd feel terrible about it. 

>It's a pretty serious problem when it comes down to it and He needs therapy and fast. Master Splinter has already tried to sit and have the "I love you no matter what conversation" to see if he could help Raph resolve what's going on with himself but he won't budge. And he sure as hell won't tell his brothers.

>But maybe if he did they'd be able to get through to him

----------------------------------------------------------------------

Donatello:

>His media, the stuff he watches. None of his brothers will ever understand his obsession with Angel Beats, vocaloid, or Sailor Mercury

>He’s tried to share the shows he watches with his family before. But even just the slight hint of disapproval or not understanding and he regrets every choice he’s ever made up to that point

>The only time ever showing them something worked was with Master Splinter and star wars. It’s their bonding media and they will hold marathons every now and then. They both refuse to watch the newer ones.

>There’s not a lot Don can show his family. Not because they don’t like it but mostly because they don’t understand it. His taste is so absurd even Mikey is hesitant to ask or wonder about what he’s into. 

>It sucks for Don because he doesn’t ever really hide anything, (besides his internet history, but who doesn’t?) it’s just that no one ever cares enough to wanna know. This plays a lot into his self isolation, not just physically but mentally he does tend to be on his own little island. Alone. And that’s the hard part.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------

Michelangelo:

>Quite literally the most open out of the four. Almost too open. But even the most open people have their secrets and maybe his is a little childish. Dating sims of all kinds. You can romance em? he’s playing it

>Avid player of Monster Prom! Has been accepted by every character and could do it again blind folded. His favorite is Polly, a total party ghost. He played Stardew and married Penny, made another save and married Elliot. Played Arcana and fell hard for Julian, was down bad for weeks.

>Point is if it’s out there he has played it but there’s no way in hell his family can know and it’s all Raph’s fault. Story was they were talking about celebrity crushes one day and Mikey had fan-art of the person he was pining for in one of his games but Raph looked at it funny (when he really didn’t react at all) and he decided he’d never show his babies to anyone ever again. Can’t do it won’t do it.

[destiny-fics]

I gotta, I have too. I have more thoughts.

Who in Ateez & SKZ do you think would be into shotgunning & how would they do it?

I know we've already talked about Hongjoong, wooyoung & bang chan but I'm sure there are other members we haven't thought about.

Oooo I hope you know how happy seeing this ask in my inbox made me. Like seriously, I've been wanting to talk about this for a hot minute.

So, for Ateez, we've already got Hongjoong and Woo. But let me propose to you: Yunho and Yeosang.

Yunho's a vaper. I have absolutely no basis for this, like literally none, but I feel like if he was going to, he'd vape. I feel like he likes sweeter flavours. And you're so sweet to him, so the combination of your sweetness and whatever sweet flavour he's got going on makes his head spin. He probably brought up shotgunning once to you as a mild, lame joke, but when he saw the way you practically shut down at the idea he definitely had to try it. He's probably really sweet when he does it bc I'm so soft for boyfriend Yunho you're on his lap, one of his hands on your hips to keep you balanced and he definitely gives you little sweet kisses in between each exhale of smoke into your mouth. Sometimes you have sex during, sometimes you don't. But you always end up making out, the vape long forgotten.

Now for Yeosang. Idk if this is going to be unpopular or not and perhaps this is pure self indulgence, but like, I'm doing it anyway. Shotgunning. With. Yeosang. Imagine it for me please.

I'm not entirely sure what he'd smoke, I really don't know, but whatever it is it's always going to be better when the smoke is passed from Yeosang's mouth to yours. I feel like he'd be a bit embarrassed about doing it at first, or even suggesting it. But as soon as he sees that you're down and into it, there's no stopping him. He's gonna be addicted to the way you look and feel while he exhales into your mouth. I feel like he'd do it while having sex too. Like you're riding him and he presses you even closer so he can blow some smoke into your mouth? I think I just died at the mental image

Also like, you can't tell me he wouldn't like being on the recieving end of it either.

As for Stray Kids.

I have six words.

Han Jisung, Lee Minho, Yang Jeongin.

I cannot think shotgunning without thinking about these three.

Especially Jisung. Man has that stoner frat boy energy on lock and I am going to use that to my advantage.

He's definitely the type to shotgun a blunt. Sure you could just pass it between the two of you, but where's the fun in that? Nah he's gonna be exhaling into your mouth before bringing you into the messiest, most passionate kiss he possibly can. Spit slicked and swollen lips pressed against yours, tongues sliding together, hips bumping against each other. Tell me that doesn't sound like an absolute dream. You can't, because it is definitely a dream. It's giggly and messy and passionate and perfect. And it's so Jisung. Ugh I want that man so badly.

And Minho. I feel like Minho likes to be on the recieving end of it. Idk I have this really clear image of Minho on his knees, chin tilted up by your hand as you exhale the smoke from your cigarette into his mouth. That would be his shit.

And Minho's absolutely fucking you afterwards. No ifs ands or buts about it. The whole thing would drive him insane. And get him incredibly hard.

Now Jeongin, similar to Chan, kind of strikes me as a party vaper.

So maybe you're sat with him somewhere outside while he vapes. Neither of you really wanting to be with all the people, so you're fine with just this. And Jeongin would turn to you to ask if you want to try something. At your nod he'd take a deep hit and then lean down to blow the smoke into your mouth, testing the waters and giving you a soft kiss once he'd finished.

And anyone who walked past the two of you that night would absolutely see you sharing kisses and smoke as you sat there together. And you'd definitely make it a regular occurrence.

This ended up being longer than I anticipated but oh well, I had thoughts and I hope you enjoyed them!

[dreamkidddream]

So my birthday is on April Fools, (how deserving 🤪) and I decided to be self indulgent again and write something! These are short and reader is gender neutral!

WARNING: Lesson 16 spoilers in Beel and Belphie’s part (nothing too heavy but read their sections at your own risks)

The Brothers Celebrating your Birthday!

Lucifer

Expect the most grandest/high class celebration you’ve ever seen MC!

As much as he’s not a morning demon, he’s got a noticeable pep in his step this morning because it’s your special day

Expect him to be one of the first people to text you at midnight because he’s still up doing paperwork

But don’t worry, he won’t be doing any work when it’s time to celebrate

Little messages throughout the day, hinting at something big to come along with small gifts (atleast to him) such as: new outfits, lunch at Ristorante Six with him, basically stuff that he pleases you both and that he would love to see you in (not that he would ever tell you)

Expect his gifts to be high quality too (ie. very expensive)

You expected a huge party, but you didn’t expect him to get so sentimental

After everything ended, you ended up in his room, with him just holding you in his lap, unconsciously caressing you with his mind deep in thought

The impact that you made on his brothers- the impact that you made just on him- it’s far bigger than you could imagine. And that scares him

He’s gotten so close to you that he forgot that you can’t stay here forever, both in the Devildom and mortality. What would he do when you have to leave his brothers? When you have to leave him? It makes his chest pang with pain every time the thought crosses his mind, but he refuses to let it ruin the moments he does get to spend with you

You’ll never know how grateful he is for deep down, and he never wants to lose you. Who would have thought that the mighty firstborn would fall so deep for a mere human?

Mammon

ITS PARTY TIME

Get ready to have the best birthday ever with no one other than the Great Mammon!

Tries to be the first one to tell you, fell asleep and immediately felt bad

Celebrates your birthday like a national holiday but is still somehow tsundere about it. He’s only being like this because you don’t know how to party, and he doesn’t want to hear you complain later, got it?!

Has his crows bring you small gifts leading up to the big party. Bracelets, candy, mini love letters that he swore that he threw away...

Definitely snuck off during your party, because he wanted to hand you his gift personally (and he didn’t want to hear his brothers say anything about it). Prays (how ironic) that you don’t hate it, tears up when you say that you love it

Definitely got some kisses as thanks and can expect some more later

He just really appreciates and loves you okay? You’re important to him, and today’s the day that you were brought into the world, the reason that he’s able to look forward to something everyday. You’ve made a change in everyone’s lives, even that grouch Lucifer, and he has to say thanks somehow

Plus, you’re important to him- so he does see this as a special day regardless of what comes out of his mouth. He still gets embarrassed about being emotional, but he makes sure that you know that he loves you

He always will

Leviathan

It’s just another day normie, nothing special...

Hey quit trying to figure out what he’s hiding behind his back! He doesn’t have anything okay?! It’s nothing! And ignore that he called you, he just butt dialed you and didn’t expect you to answer! And he just decided to say happy birthday because everyone else was, not because he actually cares!

He is so stumped on how he’s going to celebrate your birthday, he hasn’t stressed about something non-otaku like this in decades. He’s so anxious that he’ll ruin your big day. What if he gets you something and you hate it and then hate him?!!

This day is making him more nervous than it should, but he can’t help it! You’re his best friend, a person that he can confidently say that he’s fortunate enough to know and that he loves-

OKAY he can’t exactly say it out loud yet without turning 50 shades of red, but he really does. He just needs a way to show it

Believe it or not, he was too excited to wait to tell you his gift after the party, so he told you after he said happy birthday. Free range to his manga collection??? What could be better than that?! The perfect gift if you asked him

Plus he rather you be holed up with him in his room than being anywhere else. That’s how it should be: just his Henry, his anime/manga/game collection, and Henry 2.0

It’s the least that he can do for how much you’ve been there for him, and even though he still has a hard time saying how he really feels, he hopes that this atleast gives you a glimpse into his true feelings

Ugh this feels like he’s a love interest in an otome game or something...

Satan

Honestly is the chillest of them all

Don’t get me wrong he’s super excited like everyone else, but he has a very detailed itinerary that you both need to follow for today, starting with breakfast.

Get down here before Beel eats your breakfast!

He made it with all of your favorite activities and places, along with things that he just knew you’ll love (and him too, but seeing you smiling is more than enough to make him content). He put a lot of effort into this whole day, especially with your gift

He put thought into it (no surprise there), he didn’t want to give you just anything and he has to one-up Lucifer and he needed to give you something to show you how much of a change you’ve been in his life. How much you influenced him to make better choices when it comes to channeling his anger and rage

He got you a magic photo album last year, and the way that you reacted to that (which was obviously positive), the pressure is on this year to impress you even more

Which he ended up doing! But he won’t lie, he was just a tad bit nervous in disappointing you, but everything worked out well, so you didn’t need to know!

Although, he did feel a bit shy in handing you his gift, he felt relieved in seeing you accept it so quickly

Also invited you to read any of his books, and even offered to teach you some spells, both safe and simple enough to where it won’t cause any real damage to anyone. Might teach you a spell to spite Lucifer to make the LYS club proud

You don’t know how much you mean to his brothers, how much you mean to him. You’ve made a bigger impact that you think, and while he knows that nothing he does will ever show you how eternally thankful he is for your presence, he at least wants to show you a sliver of his appreciation. What better way than the day you came into the world?

Also expect him to try and fluster you the whole day. You’re too cute for him to leave you alone, and your reactions are better than that brand new cat cafe

Actually he might have to test that theory, and the only way to do that is if you both visit the cafe. Either way he’s not complaining! Cats and you? A match to die for

Asmodeus

You’re the only reason he’ll interrupt his beauty sleep

Wants bragging rights to say that he told you happy birthday first

Today is a big day after all! It’s the day that you came into the world, and that you’re able to even be down here with him- I mean them!

Will be your designated fashion designer. All your outfits already have to not only be on point, but they have to be iconic. No exceptions! Doesn’t matter if you’re just going to Purgatory Hall, you’re going there in style!

Gifts are in style too! He got you stuff that you would absolutely fall in love with. He’s not that self centered, give him some credit MC!

After the big celebration with everyone, of course you’re going out to The Fall! He has to show you off of course, it would be a crime if he didn’t

But once everything is over and you guys are home, he takes his time in doing his nightly routine on you both. Honestly just basking in your glow and just enjoying you. No sharing, no interruptions, just you and him

He catches himself thinking that there’s no way he can love someone more than he can love himself, it’s impossible, it has to be

But he loves you so much that he’s starting to doubt that theory

But would that really be a problem?

Beelzebub

He’s so excited! And he takes today VERY seriously

He’s gonna make sure you eat SO GOOD today that Lord Diavolo would be jealous

As soon as you get up you guys are hitting every restaurant and I mean EVERY

You’re getting the best of the best because you deserve the best

And as a gift he got you so much food that you’ll probably have enough to last you both for the rest of the year...if he doesn’t eat it all

He knows that food is his thing, but he got you so much because he knows that it makes him happy, and he wants you to feel the same way. It makes him feel all warm inside, and when you’re with him it’s like he’s eating all of his favorites at once, but even better

And you guys eating food together?? It makes him feel like he’s back in the Celestial Realm again

But I feel like with Beel, another way he shows love is through acts of service and quality time. For him, even if you guys are doing absolutely nothing, he’s 100% in bliss

So his gift to you was in the way of snacks to share and having him at your mercy (not that you would ever take advantage of him like that). Also promising to take you wherever you want, it’s your day!

You see past his sin, and enjoy Beel for Beel. You don’t just see him as Gluttony, you helped bring his twin back to him, you even sleep and listen to him after his nightmares of Lilith. It’s only right to show gratitude for all that you’ve done on your birthday

And all of his brothers love you, especially him. You’re basically family at this point, and no takebacks either

Just don’t leave him MC, you’ve became a big part of his life now, and he honestly would be very sad without you

Belphegor

There’s no way that this sleepy king can stay up until midnight so you’ll get your happy birthday when he sees you in the morning (if he’s up)

No but fr in the game he DOES NOT CALL YOU OR EVEN TEXT!!! LIKE I STAYED UP THINKING HE FELL ASLEEP AND HE JUST STRAIGHT UP- okay sorry back to the headcannons 😭

He’s very optimistic on the inside trust me, he just doesn’t show it very well on the outside, but he’s trying!

He can’t help it that he’s sleepy but...you put some energy back into him, and he is ecstatic about celebrating with you, he just has a hard time showing it

His brothers were a little peeved about his nonchalant attitude AND not getting you a gift, but Beel already knows what his twin is doing, he just didn’t want anyone else to know because he wanted everything to be perfect

After the party, he snuck you away to the planetarium, which is designated as your sacred spot. This was nothing new, but you still laid in awe cuddled with Belphie looking up at the sky

But tonight was different, as the stars up above spelled out...your name? And did that star basically let out miniature fireworks? And are those stars over there shaped as a cow and mooing?

Seeing your eyes light up meant that it was worth it to skip out on some of his naps to talk to Solomon and practice out some new spells (but you won’t ever know that)

Belphie really cares about you. Really cares about you. No matter how much he may be sarcastic or act like things aren’t a big deal, they are to him, especially when it comes to you. After the ill-fated events in the attic, he would have not been surprised if you hated him and want nothing to do with him ever again; it was his fault after all, he couldn’t be upset with you. But you were willing to forgive him, and start over

MC, you will never know how much indebted he is to you. You’re the reason that he’s out of the attic and reconnected with his twins again, the reason that he’s apart of the family and not separated. Yes, he still has some issues that he may need to work on for himself, but he’s able to take the right step because of you

He doesn’t really have a choice in celebrating your birthday (at least to him but he’s gonna celebrate either way), because without you, he doesn’t know where he would end up at, he would be lost. He owes you enough to see you safe and happy, and he swears that he will keep you that way. A happy and safe MC means a satisfied Belphie

And having you curled up in his side, going on about the show he planned, has him feeling very light, and he can’t help but wonder if this is how his sister felt

If it is, he can’t help but start to see everything a little clearer now

[snackhobi]

pairing: jungkook x reader / word count: 13.4k / genre: fluff + comedy (I suppose)

summary: you work the night shift in a supermarket. and now your crush, aka the cutest boy in the world, aka the guy you’ve been thirsting after for months, aka jeon jungkook, works the night shift too. les geddit

warnings: this fic is sfw BUT there is cursing/explicit language—the reader is thirsty af, just SO thirsty, seriously the thirstiest, but other than that this fic is pretty soft

a/n: thank you to my darling friend and beta reader @hobi-gif​​, without whom this would have remained an unpublished fic I just wrote for funsies, and also to @yeojaa​​ for reading this through and enjoying this terrible self indulgence of mine, you’re both queens

--

Why is it that all the interesting things happen whenever you’re not at work? Like the time you'd been off for one (1) night so that you could move into your new place, so you hadn't witnessed the full on brawl between a customer and the security guard right before the store shut. Or the other time when you were twenty minutes late because of road closures and you’d missed all the free doughnuts—Yoongi hadn’t even saved you one, opting to give it to his crush instead, even though Jimin wasn’t even night shift. 

(Yoongi was a Judas, betraying you all because of a little thirst. Snake.)

(Okay, sure, you're friends with Jimin too, but still.)

Anyway. You’re here almost all weeks of the year, and the few times you’re not, that’s when things get interesting. Working in any sort of retail job is boring at best, especially when the store is shut overnight (customers during the day were awful but at least they provided an ever rotating cast of varying characters that could provide amusing anecdotes to add to your repertoire), and it’s downright frustrating whenever you miss out on the few variations to your usually monotonous nights just because you happened to miss it.

Yoongi is also The Worst at keeping you updated. He has little to no interest in gossip and keeps himself firmly out of unnecessary interpersonal drama, staying uninvolved by being entirely unapproachable and blanking people whenever they try to talk to him. You keep out of it too, but in a different way— you don’t get involved in drama because everyone likes you. You’re personable and social, almost to a clownish degree, somehow treading the line between being Nice and Firm, so people simultaneously like you while also being wary of annoying you. 

Either way. When you’re not there, Yoongi doesn’t go out of his way to find out any developments, so you’re always left floundering to catch up with whatever’s gone on so that you can keep your position as Liked-By-All-Sides as secure.

So, with all of this in mind, when he says that nothing interesting has happened in the two weeks since you’ve been off, you’re understandably sceptical, raising an eyebrow at him from where you’re reclining in his passenger seat. The entire supermarket could have burned down while he’d been working and Yoongi would probably say of the event afterwards—if pressed—that it had ‘been a little hotter than usual’.

(At least Jimin indulges you with petty gossip. You’re certain he’d let you know about any new developments, but he’s not on a late shift tonight, much to the disappointment of both yourself and Yoongi—although he won't admit it.)

You hadn’t sensed any ripples in the Force when you’d stepped into the supermarket. Everything looked the same, all the way down to the slightly wonky sign on the front display that was trying to persuade customers to buy the new lines of overpriced olives and antipasti, and nothing felt any different on your journey up to the locker rooms; the poster asking everyone to book their holiday before the 26th June 2001 was still up, as it should be; the sight of Yoongi walking in the direction of the staff canteen as you went to dump your stuff in your locker was as familiar as normal. You were usually good at sniffing out change, but everything had passed your smell check and so you let your guard down, bursting into the break room with your usual aplomb. 

That’s one thing about night shift that people don’t usually realise. Because there aren’t customers around, you can yell up and down the shop floor as much as you like (it’s usually faster than walking around to find someone) and swear or be inappropriate in ways that wouldn’t fly during the day (like bowling products across the floor instead of walking up to the shelf and putting them down). You don’t swear or yell, really, but the amount of time you’ve spent on nights has increased your overall volume and altered your verbal filter, so once you’ve kicked the door open, what comes out of your mouth is as follows:

“Wassup everyone? Ya girl is back from her time off and is absolutely RARING to go! I know you all missed me, but please, no flash photography,” you simper. You hear Yoongi snort into his coffee from his seat on the sofa, directly under the sign that says ‘No Food Or Drink Allowed On The Sofas’ alongside a picture of a dancing hot dog with a massive red X across it.

Most of your coworkers are a lot older than you—young people don’t tend to work overnight—so they don’t match your level of energy, but they’re still pleased to see you nonetheless, a little chorus of hellos greeting you when you walk into the room. You shoot finger guns at them, ending with an overly theatrical wink at Taehyung, wiggling your fingers in a wave at the boy as he grins at you through his mouthful of food (he’s not night shift but he finishes a lot of his shifts late so you're on friendly terms). 

When you flop down next to Yoongi he wordlessly hands you a coffee. You hiss a little at the contact of the hot mug against your skin—he’s holding onto the handle, and you’re quick to accept it from him so you don’t burn yourself—and peer down at the hot liquid before taking a small drink.

You’re mid-sip when your eyes flick up from the mug and you immediately splutter. You cough and hack, eyes filling with tears as you try to swallow the noises down to no avail; you sound distressed enough that even Yoongi gets concerned, thumping you on the back as you make a noise akin to a cat wheezing out a hairball.

“Yoongi.” Your voice is pained as you look out of the corner of your eye at the boy sitting next to you. “I thought you said nothing interesting had happened while I was off?”

Yoongi looks perplexed. “Nothing did,” he says. Somehow you resist the overwhelming urge to pour your coffee all over him.

“Then explain to me exactly why the Muscle Boy from morning shift who works on fruit and veg is sat over there in a night shift uniform,” you hiss.

“Oh, yeah.” Yoongi sounds entirely disinterested. “He moved on to nights the first week you were off.”

So not only has the hitherto-unreachable object of your affections moved on to your shift—great, you weren't mentally prepared for that at all—he'd apparently witnessed your unnecessarily theatrical entrance, as well as your subsequent near death experience via coffee. You wish that the near death experience had, in fact, been a full death experience; your final moments may have been undignified but at least you’d have gone out while looking at a pretty face and not have to live with the embarrassment afterwards, knowing that Jeon Jungkook had witnessed you spluttering coffee down your chin.

Normally your Jungkook-radar (Kookiedar? You’ll have to work on the name for it) is faultless, flawless, sensitive to his exact location at all times—but he was never there at night. You only saw him in the mornings, catching glimpses of him on your way out, lifting heavy crates of bananas or potatoes onto the displays. But he’s here, now, sat on his own table, alone, away from the other workers.

While you hadn’t spotted him before, what with how he’s sequestered himself alone, from your vantage point now? You can clearly see him, and you know that he would have had full view of you from the moment you’d stepped into the room.

He's on night shift now. With you. 

“Yoongi, buddy?”

“Yeah?”

“If I asked you to kill me, would you do it?”

“No." His answer is immediate, but before you can be warmed by the fact he doesn’t wish for your imminent death, he continues: “I’d have to find someone else to reduce food for me, and I can’t go back to buying full priced noodles after this long.”

“I’ll reduce your head from your body,” you threaten, even though it makes no sense. Yoongi doesn’t react outwardly to this threat but you would wager anything that he was quivering in his boots, even though he’s doing a very good job of calmly sipping at his coffee. Ahh, Yoongi, always the master of the pokerface, despite the fact he must be terrified.

Anyway. You’re getting distracted. Basically, snake Yoongi had snaked on you and hadn’t told you about Jungkook transferring to night shift, like the snake he was. Yoongi being the snake, that is, not Jungkook. He wasn’t a snake. Sure, you’d never spoken to him in all the months you’d seen him and knew next to nothing about him but no one could be a snake when they looked that innocent. Besides, you’d seen him help customers, smiling at the old ladies who asked for him to reach for specific bits of fruit from higher shelves, or carrying their shopping for them, or— 

Argh, you were getting distracted again. Essentially he was a hot, muscular angel who hadn’t had your existence on his own radar until approximately five minutes ago, and his first impression of you must be that you are an absolute clown. A buffoon. And, okay, maybe you are, but you usually only let people onto that fact after knowing them for at least a day or two.

He’d looked startled when you’d made eye contact with him across the canteen, tearing his eyes away from you the second you’d tried to inhale coffee instead of ingesting it. You’re grateful that he’s resolutely kept his gaze away, absorbed by something on his phone instead, but he must have heard your desperate wheezing from across the room. Even if you’ve managed to cough away the coffee in your lungs by now it doesn’t detract from the overall embarrassment that threatens to swallow you up.

Beside you, Yoongi continues to drink his coffee like a normal human being. He’s oblivious to your inner turmoil. Of course your crush had moved to night shift when you were on holiday. Of course you’d missed that. Why wouldn’t you? You were a snail and God was salting you. What had you done to deserve such torment? 

“I can’t believe you didn’t think a new person was something I’d at least like to be made aware of,” you mutter waspishly. “Especially as he’s around our age! Since Hobi left we haven’t had anyone on shift who isn’t at least a decade older than us, Yoons.” 

As is tradition, Yoongi says: “A moment of silence for our boy Hobi.” You both shut your eyes and tilt your heads forward as you mourn your fallen brother. (He wasn’t dead, he’d just moved to a different job a few months ago, although you both still see him on a weekly basis.) And then Yoongi continues: “I guess I didn’t think it was important.”

“Do you have a single wrinkle on your brain, Yoongi? Huh? Or is it completely smooth up there? Why wouldn’t a new night shift worker be something I’d want to know about?”

“I figured you’d find out eventually anyway.” Yoongi shrugs.

“I hope a stack of bread falls on you,” you say.

You’re glad when it hits 9pm and your manager, Sejin, gets everyone’s attention for the huddle so he can tell everyone where they’re working for the night. You normally don’t pay much attention but this time you’re like a bloodhound on a scent trail, sniffing out what where Jungkook is going to be.

“Jungkook, you’re on the fruit and veg section,” your manager says, and your nostrils flare. Of course. You’re entirely unsurprised when he delegates Jungkook to the fruit and vegetable aisles— it’s what the boy is familiar with, after all. 

Most people in the store have areas they’re better at and do the same thing over and over, but you’re a bit of a wildcard, happy to work anywhere, so your own role varies a bit. You’d actually been there longer than Sejin, who’s a fairly new manager; he’d latched desperately onto you when he realised that you a) had been trained on pretty much everything and b) were also a pretty decent worker, on the whole, and so he allows you more freedom than he might afford other people.

So, because of this, you know that if you asked then he’d happily move you to a different area of the store, but you don't actually know where you want to go. You’re torn between hoping that you’re in a section near Jungkook (so you can ogle him) or the opposite of the store (so you’re saved any further shame due to the fact that you’re an absolute dunderhead, just an absolute embarrassment, why were you allowed outside?), but then Sejin tells you your job for the night and you can’t help a groan from escaping you.

“It’s my first shift back after my holiday and you want me to reduce all night?” 

You can’t help but sound a little whiny. Reducing is so boring. Looking through everything on the shelf and scanning it and then having to stick the reduced labels on them? Over and over and over? For the whole night? Your brain is already shutting down in anticipation for the repetitive monotony. (You have to try to conserve what few brain cells you have left and you're not about to waste them on this.)

Sejin looks genuinely apologetic. “Some day staff called in sick so there weren’t enough people to finish everything. You only have the meat and fish sections to do.”

You’re so distressed at the idea of having to sift through piles of meat that you don’t notice how Jungkook perks up at this, sitting up a little in his seat; if you’d been paying attention you’d realise that the meat and fish area is directly adjacent to fruit and veg, both sections within direct eyesight of each other. Instead you’re remembering the time you’d had a packet of sea bass leak on you and no matter how many times you’d washed your hands, the fishy smell had remained. Eurgh. 

“Alright, that’s everything!” Sejin claps his hands together. “Let’s get to work, everyone.”

There’s the usual grumblings and mutterings as people start to make their way out of the canteen and downstairs to start work. You take Yoongi’s mug from him and dump both of your empty cups into the hatch of the canteen, already resigning yourself to a long night of misery and boredom. Why did you choose to work in a supermarket, again?

You dawdle around upstairs for longer than you probably should once everyone’s gone, dreading the fact that you’re going to have to properly introduce yourself to Jungkook. Night shift is very insular and you can assume that no one’s introduced themselves to him or made an effort to be friendly— hence why he's been sitting alone. You’re the one person who works overnight who actually goes out of their way to introduce themselves to any new starters, but you’re fairly certain that if you try to introduce yourself to Jungkook you’ll end up throwing up on him. He’s just so hot that it makes you nervous. 

You make a long drawn out ahhhhhhhhhhh noise, letting your frustration out before straightening up and puffing out your chest. It’s fine! You’re fine. You’re a strong, confident, smart night shift worker who’s introduced herself to new people multiple times before. Jungkook is just another person. Sure, he’s the cutest guy you’ve ever seen, but he’s just another person. It’s fine.

It’s not fine. 

The second you round the corner to the fruit and veg section on your way to meat and fish, you see Jungkook effortlessly heft a massive crate of grapefruit as if it weighs nothing and you want to pass out. The one time you’d tried to lift a crate like that you’d almost done your back in, but Jungkook just lifts it with ease.

What’s worse is that while you’ve seen him do this before, he’d been wearing a day shift uniform at the time. The day shift uniform is, honestly, pretty ugly, an ugly beige long-sleeve button up with an equally ugly tan tie under an ugly grey apron (but of course Jungkook had still looked radiant in spite of the ugly ensemble he was forced to wear). The night shift uniform isn’t necessarily attractive either, a simple black polo shirt and combat trousers, but unlike the button up, the polo shirt is a t-shirt— and Jungkook’s rolled the already shorter sleeves up so that all of his arm is on display (holy shit he has tattoos). You can see the flex of his muscles in all their glory, the way his biceps bulge as he lifts the crate higher, the veins that run down to his hands, and your mouth floods with saliva. 

“Arm,” you say.

“Pardon?” Jungkook looks up, confused, and then startles when he sees you. 

“Um, nothing!” you stutter. There’s a loose lock of hair hanging across his forehead and you stare at that rather than looking into his eyes. You’d probably burst into flames if you made eye contact right now. “I just wanted to, uh, introduce myself? I know you’ve been working nights for a few weeks now so I’m kind of late, but I was on holiday. I’m Y/n.”

“I know,” Jungkook says, and then he sees how your eyes widen and he scrabbles to explain. “Uh, Sejin said it during the meeting.” He swallows.

You cough. Of course. There’s no other reason Jungkook would have known your name without you telling him; you sincerely doubt he’d sleuthed your name out via the rotas pinned on the board, much as you had with him. (You swear you’re not a stalker, he’s just really cute, okay?) 

“I’m Jungkook,” he finishes, laughing awkwardly.

“I guessed,” you say, pointing at his name badge like that’s the reason you know it. He stares down at his chest, as if he’d forgotten that he had it pinned there, and although you'd genuinely been looking at the badge, you suddenly notice that you can see the definition of his pecs even with the thick fabric of the polo shirt. You want to pass out again. You need to divert your attention to something else, stat, your brain scrambling for something to say next. “You know, you’re the only person on night shift who’s wearing a badge. No one else does.” 

You wince. Great. Now you sound like an asshole. Nice going, idiot.

Jungkook glances away from his badge to your finger, which is still pointing. He’s staring at your nail polish. Even though no one cares what the night shift gets up to, nail polish is technically against the rules and you wonder if he’s about to say something derogatory—you’d deserve it, you were just kind of a dick to him—when he smiles instead. “I like your nails.”

“O-oh,” you stutter, surprised. They’re nothing special, the colour a little chipped in places, but you’re still flattered by how genuine Jungkook’s compliment sounds. “Um. Thanks.” And because you have a habit of responding to compliments with one of your own, you say: "I really like your tattoos. The flowers are beautiful."

Jungkook looks stunned and doesn't respond. You spend a few moments staring at each other before Sejin rounds the corner, and you both abruptly turn away so it doesn’t look like you’re just standing around and talking instead of working (although that is, in fact, what you’re doing). You hustle over to the meat section, grabbing packs of bacon and pretending to look at the dates, even though you have no idea what date it is. No thoughts head full of Jungkook.

Over the years, you’ve mastered the art of Quick Glancing™. While to anyone watching you it would seem as though you’re absorbed in your work, sifting through food to check if it’s going out of date, you’re actually looking at Jungkook more often than not. Whenever it seems like he might catch you, your eyes dart back to whatever cut of meat you’re holding at the time—a box of liver, eww, slimy—but you spend the majority of the time watching him move around. You can’t help but wonder if he’d lift you as easily as those crates and have to suppress a full body shiver. Down, girl.

Yoongi appears like clockwork the second it hits midnight, leaning against the fridge as you stare at a pack of chicken wings. “Coffee time.”

“Oh, thank God.” You straighten up, unceremoniously dropping the chicken wings onto the shelf. “Caffeine, I need caffeine, get me the caffeine.”

You get the caffeine. You and Yoongi always go back to the canteen at midnight for coffee—even though you’re technically not meant to—and bring your mugs downstairs—something else you’re also not meant to do. You drink your coffee between looking at the packets of food on the shelf, sifting through trays of chicken breasts and stickering whatever's due to go out of date as Yoongi idles around near you, peering at everything you’ve slapped a reduced label on. He clicks his tongue at a lacklustre reduction, unimpressed at how little money has been slashed off the price, and honestly? Mood. 

“Don’t you have bread to put out?”

“Finished it. I’m waiting for the next delivery.” Yoongi yawns, but then his eyes suddenly narrow as he looks in the direction of fruit and veg. “Your new little friend keeps looking at us. I think he might be a narc.”

“Huh? Oh, Jungkook?” You look up from the chicken thighs. Jungkook is far out of earshot but clearly visible, hunched over a shelf as he starts to furiously organise some courgettes. “Nah, I don’t think he’s a narc. Besides, what’s Sejin going to do? Fire us? We get coffee all the time and he's never said anything about it before.”

“Yeah, but Jungkook doesn’t know that.” Yoongi scowls. He sounds suspicious. “Hm. I’m going to go back to bread, but keep an eye on that one.”

He doesn’t have to tell you twice. “Got it,” you say with a salute. 

Yoongi wanders off but not before throwing Jungkook a sharp look, which the boy doesn’t notice, resolutely staring at the courgettes. Seems like he’s really intent on making them look neat, which you think is kind of unnecessary, but whatever. It's kind of cute actually. 

You don’t think Jungkook is a snitch, but you do have to admit it’s maybe a little weird how often you seem to catch him watching you, though he’s very quick to look away. Your suspicions grow somewhat when he ends up in the canteen at the same time as you, eating your lunch a lot later than everyone else. You like the peace and quiet when the room is almost empty. 

Yoongi normally has lunch with you, but today he’d had to eat earlier because Sejin had asked him to help unload the delivery lorry, so you’re alone in the room with Jungkook. Although he sits on the table farthest away from you, it’s maybe a bit strange that he’s up there when you are. Like, sure, you do appreciate the fact that you can gawk at him a little bit more, but maybe Yoongi is right about him being a narc?

Nah. You’re probably just being paranoid. Jungkook is clearly introverted, not talking to the other guys working on the fruit and veg section, so he probably came up at the quietest time of day (/night) so he could avoid everyone. You can understand that.

Your lunch is almost over and you’re in the middle of making yourself and Yoongi another cup of coffee to take downstairs when Jungkook suddenly appears at your shoulder. You yelp in surprise when you notice him there, scattering coffee granules across the counter instead of dropping them in the cup like you’d meant to, clutching your chest in shock.

“Oh, God, sorry,” he apologises, and he fumbles as he scoops the granules into his palm to clear them up—and then he just stands there with a handful of instant coffee as he looks at you. You’re still clutching your heart. “Uh. I was wondering, do you bring your own coffee in?”

“Yes,” you say, cagey, unsure what he wants. You notice that he’s unintentionally cornered you against the counter, and now that your earlier shock has ebbed away, you can’t help but notice your height difference when he’s this close to you. “Can’t get coffee overnight otherwise. Why do you ask?”

“Oh, uh, I just didn’t realise we were allowed to?” Jungkook sounds awkward, unsure. “I would have brought my own in if I’d known.”

You stare at him for a second. Yoongi would kill you if he saw what you did next, but you just end up turning around to grab another mug and dump a spoonful of coffee into it. “Do you have milk or sugar?”

“Huh?”

“Do you have milk or sugar? In your coffee?” You repeat carefully, tapping a spoon against the third mug, trying to tamp down the blush that’s threatening to appear on your cheeks when you glance at Jungkook over your shoulder. “You want one, right?”

“Oh.” He goes a little lax with surprise, apparently not realising that he’s done so until he drops a few bits of coffee on the floor and then lifts his hand again—you can see where the granules that are directly in contact with his skin have started to dissolve a little, sticky. The pile of coffee looks so small in his big hands. You want to eat out of his palm, as gross as that thought is. “Yeah, milk and sugar, please.”

As he goes to wash the coffee from his hands, you stare at yourself in the reflection of the metal kettle, wondering what the fuck you were doing while also trying to tame your thirst into submission. You never let anyone have your coffee (except Yoongi, obviously, and Hobi, when he’d been here) (a moment of silence for your boy) and you’ve known Jungkook for less than one (1) shift and you’ve already initiated him as part of the Coffee Crew.

Yoongi picks up on this immediately, spotting you and Jungkook reemerging onto the shop floor at the same time, although you peel away to visit your friend in the bread section. “Is that a mug that I saw Jungkook holding?”

“Yeah,” you say with forced casualness, wary of Yoongi’s response. Here we go.

But to your surprise he seems pleased. “He can’t narc on us now that he’s drinking coffee on the shop floor too,” Yoongi says.

“Oh, right! Yeah, that was my plan all along.” You force laughter, as if your pulse hadn’t been racing as you’d watched Jungkook take the first sip from the coffee you’d prepared for him, worried that he wouldn’t like it. You’d wanted to vomit your heart out of chest when he’d given you a small, shy smile and said that it was perfect, as if he wasn’t drinking cheap, crappy instant coffee, which was subpar even when it was good.

Yoongi raises his eyebrows at your fake hyena laughter but decides not to comment on it.

He raises his eyebrows again the next night when he witnesses you preparing coffee for Jungkook firsthand, lining up three mugs at midnight instead of just two, making coffee the way Jungkook likes it. “Once was enough to stop him from double crossing us, I think,” Yoongi says.

“I’m making this for him because I want Jungkook to be part of the group,” you say firmly, ignoring the way your hand trembles a little when you say this. Jungkook had waved goodbye to you when he’d spotted you in the morning after your first shift together, and tonight he’d made eye contact when you’d walked into the break room—more quietly than you had the day before—before smiling at you. (You’re constantly torn between wanting to coo at how adorable he is or begging him to bend you over a table, and it’s hard to keep these thoughts from showing on your face whenever you smile at him, but you’re doing a damn good job.)

Yoongi, despite his usual unflappable nature, looks absolutely floored. Even though you’d both spoken to Hoseok from the moment he’d started working with you, it had taken you a few weeks before you’d even offered to get him a drink at midnight, a mutual decision both you and Yoongi had agreed upon. And here you were, inviting Jungkook in without consulting your coworker-turned-best-friend, after one night. (You’re sure Hobi wouldn’t mind, but you feel kind of bad when you think about it and resolve to pay for his lunch when you see him next week.)

Yoongi squints at you as you keep your attention focused on the coffee and so don’t see the realisation settling across his features.

“Oh,” he says once it’s clicked. “You wanna suck his dick.”

You end up scattering coffee across the counter again. At this rate you may as well just pour the granules straight into the bin and cut out the middle man.

“Yeah, you wanna suck his dick,” Yoongi muses, watching as you grouse and clean up the coffee. 

“At least when I talk about your crush on Jimin I have the decency to not be crude about it,” you say, jabbing a finger in Yoongi’s direction. He flushes.

“I don’t have a crush on Jimin,” he scowls. You scoff.

“Oh, please, Yoons. You’re not as subtle as you think. If I catch you staring at Jimin’s ass one more time with those googly eyes of yours I’m gonna yarf.” Jimin’s ass, admittedly, is very nice, the awful work trousers somehow flattering on him, but it’s the reverence with which Yoongi looks at it that makes his crush obvious. Amongst plenty of other things. “And you let him have my doughnut! As if that isn’t practically a declaration of marriage!”

“You’re still going on about the doughnut?” Yoongi rolls his eyes. “That happened months ago.”

“It was a limited edition Krispy Kreme doughnut, Yoons!” Your voice has gone shrill. “A motherfucking Kit Kat doughnut! The only reason I didn’t strike you down where you stood is because I fully support your crush on Jimin, even if I think it’s ridiculous you haven’t asked him out already! Anyway,” you say, letting the spoon clatter into the mug. “Whether or not I want to suck Jungkook’s dick, I miss having a third person in this group. Hobi actually laughed at my jokes.”

“I laugh at your jokes when they’re funny.”

“You never laugh at them!”

“I said what I said.”

“I’m going to poison your coffee so Jungkook and I can drink the rest in peace,” you say. “Oh, moment of silence for Hobi, we almost forgot.” The moment of silence lasts for a second, and then you’re pouring the freshly boiled water into the mugs. 

“I guess I should talk to Jungkook, then.” Yoongi still sounds suspicious and you glare at him as you stir the coffee.

“If I find out that you’re being mean to him, I will genuinely poison your drink,” you say, lifting the spoon and gesturing with it aggressively enough that a droplet of coffee goes flying off and lands on Yoongi’s face. You have no doubt that Jungkook could snap Yoongi like a twig if he wanted to, but Jungkook seems far too nice for that, and Yoongi can be surprisingly intimidating. 

“You won’t poison me.” He wipes the coffee away, unperturbed.

You snort. “I’ll use decaff and I won’t tell you.”

This makes Yoongi’s eyes narrow. “You wouldn’t dare.”

"Watch me.”

With that threat firmly in place, you feel a little better when you hand Jungkook’s coffee to Yoongi to give to him. You’re not near the fruit and vegetable section tonight so you won’t be able to keep a direct eye on them, but you’ll catch up with Yoongi once he’s wandered back over to bread.

You’re starting to feel a bit suspicious at how long Yoongi’s been absent for and so you make your way across the shop floor to see if you can find him. To your infinite surprise you spot both guys near the salads, Yoongi perched on an upturned crate while Jungkook puts watercress onto the shelf, the two of them in deep discussion about something. You feel like you’ve stepped into the Twilight Zone when you see Yoongi genuinely laugh and you back away, unsettled. 

When you eat lunch that night, Jungkook sits with you on your table at Yoongi’s behest. It’s still a quiet affair, like normal—you take as many opportunities as you can to sneak glances at Jungkook, surprised at exactly how much food he puts away—but when he offers to make the coffee, you have a hushed conversation with Yoongi while your muscle boy is distracted. You keep your eyes fixed on Jungkook’s back, and it really is unfair how good his shoulder blades look with that black material stretched across them. There’s no point in trying to hide your thirst from Yoongi now that he knows about it so you’re free to stare.

“I thought you said he was a narc,” you whisper, eyes still fixed on Jungkook's back. How is his waist so small? (Lord have mercy on your soul.)

“Nah, Jungkook is okay,” Yoongi replies. In Yoongi-speak this means that he really likes Jungkook and you’re flabbergasted. 

You don’t get a chance to say anything else before Jungkook is turning around, proffering your drinks to you with a bright smile—you can see his teeth, and you’ve never wanted to lick someone’s teeth before but apparently the sight of Jungkook’s mouth will do that to you, who would have guessed. It’s been two shifts and you’re already this dehydrated, just dying of thirst, shrivelled up like Spongebob in that episode where he visits Sandy’s dome for the first time. You’re a crusty thirsty sponge and Jungkook is a tall, sexy glass of water.

(You’re so fucking screwed.)

--

The thing with initiating Jungkook into the Coffee Crew is that you’re faced with the reality of his good looks constantly. Jungkook still doesn’t talk to anyone else, really, but he lights up around Yoongi and yourself, and you start to look forward to seeing those shiny doe eyes of his, the way he perks up whenever he sees you. 

Work quickly becomes the highlight of your week, which is something you thought you'd never say, but Jungkook is just too powerful. Everything about him is absolutely fucking devastating, a few examples being:

The night when it’s a little warmer, and he unbuttons all three buttons on his polo shirt—you can see his collarbones and the tiniest bit of his chest, going feral over such a small slip of skin like you’re some sort of Victorian lady who keeps her ankles hidden in public and you’ve never seen bare skin before.

Or when you got caught behind him on the stairs while he’s explaining the difference between meat protein and vegetable protein—you get a wonderful view of his ass, which you take full advantage of (respectfully). You get another look at said ass when he plays a game of pool against Yoongi while you sit on the sofa and watch, Jungkook leaning over the wonky pool table so that he can make a particularly difficult shot, placing his wonderful butt directly into your line of vision.

Or when you notice that even though Jungkook cycles to work, he never seems to smell like sweat, and instead he just smells like fresh clothes, clean linen that’s so potent you can smell him before you see him. But no one smells that much like clean laundry, right? It must be his cologne.

“Jungkook, do you wear cologne?”

Jungkook, to his credit, doesn’t seem surprised at your question and just answers it like he would any other. “No, why?”

“Oh, it’s just that you smell nice? Sort of like whatever 'clean cotton' is apparently meant to smell like. Y’know? Like fresh laundry.”

“I do wash my clothes every day,” he says. “I guess you could call me a bit of a clean freak?”

For some reason, the fact that he smells so nice because of his clothes is just so hot. You want to bury your face in his shirt and just breathe him in, but that would be weird and creepy and invasive. So you don’t do that and instead allow yourself to sniff from a polite distance, olfactory senses working overtime whenever he’s nearby.

(Yoongi finds you uncapping all the detergents down the laundry aisle one night, desperately huffing each type to try and work out which one Jungkook uses. “Jesus Christ,” he says, watching as you take a particularly long drag of whatever Spring Day is—it’s pleasant, whatever it is, but it’s not what you’re looking for. “Are you trying to get high?”

“Smell this,” you say instead, shoving it in his face. He takes a wary sniff, nose crinkling. “This is nice, isn’t it?”

“I guess?” Yoongi seems baffled. “Okay, you’re clearly busy, I’ll tell Sejin to ask someone else to do the job.” You don’t reply, too busy sucking in a lungful of Crystal Snow as Yoongi backs away.)

Jungkook also seems to have this weird knack of appearing whenever you need help lifting or moving something heavy. Normally you hate it when someone steps in to help you, a little offended at the idea that you can’t do something yourself—you've been doing this for long enough that you've developed a technique for things—but when Jungkook does it you don’t feel disrespected at all. He’s just so nice about it.

Like the time when you’re struggling to move an empty wooden pallet and put it on top of a stack of others; not only is it heavy, it's large and unwieldy, too. The last time you’d tried to move one of these you’d ended up hitting it against your shins while also getting a palmful of splinters. You hate these things. Jungkook, however, materialises out of seemingly nowhere and offers you his help. He ends up lifting the thing himself, squatting down to grab it and just tossing it on top of the pile. He does it effortlessly, literally effortlessly, like the pallet weighs nothing to him, and when you ask if he thought it was heavy, he blinks.

“No, not really,” he says. You have to bite the inside of your mouth to stop yourself from screeching.

“You must lift a lot of weights,” you say, weakly, and Jungkook nods.

“I’ve started incorporating weights into my pull up routine recently, too.” 

“Oh? Do you, like… tie them to yourself or something? Uh. How heavy are they?” 

Jungkook perks up, apparently excited at the opportunity of talking about exercise. “I hold a fifteen kilogram weight in one hand while I do a pull up with the other,” he says. 

Your legs feel weak at this mental image and you end up sitting on the stack of pallets as Jungkook starts to tell you about the rest of his workout routine, and when you find out he does kickboxing as well, you almost have to excuse yourself so that you can try and calm down. Instead you grin and bear it, your fingers digging into your thighs in the horniest grip known to man, acting like this is just a normal conversation that is absolutely not affecting you, no sir, no sirree, holy shit you’re going to die.

That night you do have to excuse yourself at lunch when you make a comment on Jungkook’s food, and he says that he needs to keep his calorie count up because he’s bulking at the moment.

“Bulking? Like for abs?” Yoongi asks.

“I already have abs,” Jungkook says dismissively. Your leg jolts under the table and your knee hits the underside of it, sending your empty lunch box almost flying to the floor, and Jungkook and Yoongi look at you in alarm. “Are you alright, Y/n?”

“Bathroom,” you gasp. “I gotta—bathroom. Lady stuff.”

You splash water over your face and run it over your wrists, desperately trying to cool down. You’d suspected he had abs, for multiple reasons, not least of all the fact that whenever he leaned back in his chair the material of his shirt would settle on his stomach in a way that hinted at the shape of the muscles underneath, but to hear him confirm it—like it was nothing—good lord. (Yoongi’s caught you staring at Jungkook’s stomach multiple times when the boy was distracted, but you’re beyond caring. If you have to deal with Yoongi fawning over Jimin then he can put up with you ogling Jungkook.)

When you come back, Yoongi is at the counter making your coffees while Jungkook is still sitting at the table. You slide back into your seat, about as composed as you’re going to get, when Jungkook leans towards you.

“Are you okay?” He looks worried. “I have some heat pads in my locker if, um, you wanted them, if you’re having period pains?” he says, but then he looks unsure. “I don’t know if you’re actually meant to use them on your tummy, though.”

Tummy. You want to squeal at how cute the word is, not to mention the fact that Jungkook doesn’t seem bothered about talking about period related stuff, unlike a lot of guys you’d known. “Oh, uh, no, thanks, Jungkook,” you say, flushing. “That’s really nice of you but I’m alright.”

“Okay,” Jungkook says, although he’s still clearly concerned. “Let me know if you change your mind.”

And that’s the other thing. You still think Jungkook is the hottest person you’ve ever seen, of course, but he’s also so nice. And hardworking. And sweet. And gentle and thoughtful and determined and talented and just—he's just a whole lot of man, really, just so much, too much. Initially you’d been attracted to him based purely on how cute he was, but now that you've actually gotten to know him, your attraction has morphed into a full-on all consuming crush that’s absolutely catastrophic. 

Even when you’re not at work, you keep zoning out because you’re thinking about: Jungkook’s arms, Jungkook’s thighs, Jungkook’s face, Jungkook’s personality, or a mix of all of the above. You can’t focus on things when all you can think about is Jungkook. 

Jimin, of course, has been kept fully up to date with the situation. You squat behind the bakery counter whenever he’s on a late shift, hiding away from prying eyes so that you can talk to him as he tidies up, although you know he’s making moony eyes at Yoongi, who’ll glance back at him between the shelves of bread. 

You groan into your hands from your cross legged position on the floor, sat atop a flattened croissant box, and Jimin pats you sympathetically on the head.

“Jungkook is very cute,” says Jimin. You groan again.

“I want him to raw me,” you say. Yoongi must have been closer than you thought because you hear a noise of disgust from the other side of the counter before the sound of his footsteps moving away. Jimin laughs his tinkly little laugh as you continue to speak. “But I also want him to hold my hand? And I wanna kiss his cute little forehead. And make him breakfast in bed. Ugh. I hate this,” you whine. 

Jimin pats your head again. “Why don’t you ask him for coffee?”

You take your head out of your hands and fix him with a pout. “Why don’t you?”

“You know I don’t ask people for coffee, Y/n, I’m the one who gets asked,” Jimin says, and you know he’s projecting his voice so that Yoongi can hear him. You also know that Yoongi is too dense to pick up on this obvious flirtation, even though you can see how Jimin throws a wink in the direction of where Yoongi must be; you don’t turn to look over the counter but you hear the distinct sound of someone walking into a stack of bread and knocking it over, before Yoongi swears. Jimin just looks fond.

“Oh my God, just marry each other already,” you mutter.

“He has to ask me out first,” Jimin says, softly enough that Yoongi can’t hear from where he must be furiously tidying up the bread, if the sound of plastic packaging and low curses are anything to go by. “Seriously, Y/n, it sounds like Jungkook likes you as well. I think you should just go for it.”

You sigh. “Jungkook’s so far out of my league it’s like we’re not even playing the same sport. He’s sinking three pointers while I’m, I don’t know, whacking balls with a croquet mallet,” you mumble.

Jungkook is nice and funny and works out and is hot, so hot, the kind of hot that has people literally stopping to look at him. (You certainly had, the first time you'd spotted him down an aisle, doing a literal double take at how cute he was.) You, meanwhile, are a clown whose sense of humour has been warped by years of niche internet memes, you drink more coffee than is probably medically advisable, and make-up can only take you up to a shaky 6/10 on a very good day. All in all: Not Exactly A Catch.

Jimin clearly disagrees. “Don’t be stupid, Y/n.” He sounds genuinely mad, frowning at you. "If I didn’t like Yoongi I absolutely would have asked you out by now. Jungkook would be lucky to have you, you are a wholeass meal.”

“Yoongi compared me to a slug the other day,” you say. Admittedly it was because he’d knocked on your door when you’d been in the middle of shaving your legs, your skin shining with coconut oil—so the slug slime comment was definitely warranted and hadn’t been an insult—but Jimin’s expression turns murderous, unaware of the context.

“Min Yoongi, you get over here right now,” he hisses. Yoongi is there in seconds. “Did you call Y/n a slug?”

Yoongi’s face looms at you from over the counter. “Should’ve called her a snake instead,” he says, and you stick your tongue out at him.

“Hiss hiss,” you say. “That’s what you get for chatting shit about coconut oil.” 

Jimin blinks before his face goes smooth and a look of understanding crosses his features, raising an eyebrow at you. You bat your eyelashes at him innocently.

Yoongi rolls his eyes. “I’m going back to the bagels,” he says, but then his voice is gentle when he continues: “Unless you need something else, Jimin?”

“No, thank you, Yoongi.” He smiles at Yoongi, soft and sweet, instantly forgetting about the slug comment.

The two of them look at each other like the rest of the world has ceased to exist and you mime throwing up, but because they’re looking at each other like the rest of the world has ceased to exist, neither of them notice. You hear Yoongi’s footsteps recede and you lift your hands in despair.

“How is it even when I’m having a breakdown over a boy, the two of you manage to be so incredibly gay over each other?”

“It’s a talent,” Jimin says. “Besides, as happy as I am to listen to you, there’s only so many ways you can say I wanna suck Jungkook’s dick so bad, or he’s so adorable, what the fuck, or oh my God, Jungkook is so hot and I’m so thirsty, which are all things you’ve said, verbatim, multiple times.”

“It’s true.” You pout. “You’ve only seen Jungkook from a distance, anyway. He’s even better up close.” The bakery section is the other side of the supermarket, as far away from the fruit and veg section as you can possibly get; Jungkook has a much better work ethic than you and Yoongi and actually stays in his area to work, so he hasn’t met Jimin properly yet. 

Jimin’s expression becomes thoughtful. “You know what, that’s true,” he says. 

You’re immediately on guard. Jimin is well-meaning and considerate and kind, but he also loves to meddle and has absolutely no shame about it—the second you see that glint in his eyes, you think that maybe you’ve said something you shouldn’t have, but then you notice the time and your eyes widen.

“Oh, shit, I better go pretend to work before Sejin realises I’m missing.” You scrabble to your feet. “If I don’t see you before you go, have a safe drive home, Jimin!”

Jimin’s usually pretty punctual about leaving on time (even if he’ll hang around to talk to Yoongi, ugh). You wander over to the fruit section to help Sejin fill a display stand, and you freeze in the middle of lifting some apples into a paper bag when you spot Jimin talking to Jungkook. Jimin looks coy, Jungkook looks confused, and you? You probably look constipated. Why is Jimin still here?

You only realise that your mouth is open when Jimin spots you and winks, overexaggerated and theatrical. Your mouth snaps shut as Jungkook’s attention turns to whatever he’s winking at. You duck out of sight before he can spot you, scampering down the length of the store before practically throwing your apples at Sejin, who is understandably caught off guard and fails to catch the bag.

“I’ll go get some blueberries for the other shelf from the back room,” you bark in his face, all but running away before he can respond, leaving him surrounded by the escapee apples (escapples?) that are rolling away from him. You skulk around the entrance of the fruit and veg room for a little while, waiting for Jimin to leave via the staff exit—directly across from where you’re standing—but he doesn’t appear and you can only pretend to look for blueberries for so long, eventually returning to Sejin while despondently clutching the trays of berries.

Jungkook doesn’t seem any different when you make your midnight coffee run, and lunch is about as normal as usual. When you mention Jimin, he smiles, saying that it was nice to finally meet him, but other than seemingly slightly distracted—as if deep in thought—that’s it. There’s no hint that Jimin mentioned anything about you at all, least of all your crush—thank God—but you can feel the ripples in the Force. (Or maybe that was all the coffee you were drinking, seriously, maybe you should slow down?) You know that it’s not a coincidence that you’d had yet another meltdown about Jungkook right before Jimin had introduced himself to the object of your affections. You also know that Jimin knows that you know that, utterly shameless as always.

Jimin is on another late shift the next night. You squat behind the bakery counter when it’s unmanned, Jimin going outside to throw away some old baguettes or whatever, and you (metaphorically) pounce on him when he reappears. “Park Jimin.”

Jimin is entirely unsurprised. In fact he even has a box for you to sit on, proffering a flattened piece of porridge packaging; you feel uncomfortable at the idea of sitting on the Quaker Oats guy’s face and flip it over so you can see brown cardboard rather than his weirdly smug expression looking up at you. “Yes?”

“What exactly were you talking to Jungkook about last night?” You peer up at him, attempting to look at least somewhat threatening, but it’s kind of hard when you’re so much lower to the ground than Jimin is right now. Jimin has to look down at you so far that he’s given himself a double chin, but he’s still gorgeous, because of course he is. (He should leave some for the rest of you, jeez.)

“Oh, a lot of things,” Jimin says. “You were right about him being a sweetheart. He’s very nice. I approve.”

“What are you, my dad?” You mutter to yourself, but then: “You didn’t say anything about my crush, did you?”

Jimin is a lot of things, but a liar isn’t one of them. So when he answers you with a simple “no” you believe him, although you can’t help but still feel a little suspicious. Your gut might be full of coffee more often than not, but she’s also a smart bitch—smarter than your brain for sure—and your gut is telling you that Park Jimin must have done or said something.

“Yoongi is putting the tortillas out, so excuse me if I’m distracted,” Jimin says. The tortilla wraps are on the bottom shelf so Yoongi has to bend over to work them. You make a face of disgust and stand up to leave.

“Fine, me and the Quaker Oats guy will take ourselves elsewhere.” You tuck the flattened box snugly under your arm. “We know when we’re not wanted.” 

You feel a little bad later when you put the box into the industrial baler that you have, the machine crushing all of your cardboard flat, saddened that you’ve had to part from your new friend so soon. Bye, Quaker Oats guy. 

Jungkook finds you standing in front of the baler with a genuinely sad expression on your face, silent as the machine makes mechanical squealing and wailing noises while it crushes the boxes inside it. “Uh. Is everything okay?” He asks, delicate.

“It will be eventually,” you say solemnly, but then you look away from the baler and immediately brighten, smiling at him. “Did you need me for something?”

Jungkook looks at you for a second and then shakes his head. “I was just out here to get some more stock from the back room,” he says, and you both get back to work, unaware of the glances you steal at each other as you part.

Later that night—well, technically, morning—you see someone you haven’t seen for a while, and you gasp with excitement when you spot him. “Namjoon!” You holler down the aisle, far too loud and energetic at 5am, jogging up to him. “I thought you stopped morning shifts!”

Namjoon is a beautiful tree of a man, tall and long limbed, and probably the nicest person you’ve ever met. You’ve missed his dimples. “I did, but, I’m doing a bit of overtime,” he says, and you can’t help but smile up at him.

You’re so caught up in your laughter, cackling at a story that Namjoon is telling you, that you don’t notice Jungkook spotting you from the other end of the aisle. He circles around a few times, pretending to be straightening up the shelves, but watches as you shuffle closer to Namjoon, your heads practically knocking against each other as you stare intently at something on his phone. Jungkook can’t bear it any longer and starts to walk over. He has no idea what he’s planning to do once he gets there but he’s marching over anyway, and that's when you spot him.

“Jungkook, Jungkook!” You beckon him over—like he wasn’t coming in your direction already—and you sound so excited. “Jungkook, look, puppies!”

Jungkook has no idea who the tall guy is but he’s nice enough to turn his phone towards Jungkook without being asked to. There are multiple puppies tumbling over each other in the video, nosing at each other and flopping around. “I thought a golden retriever would be good for Jin, because he’s never had a dog before,” the tall man says, and you coo.

“They’re so cute! Oh my God, Joon, you should get one of those little bandanas you could tie around their necks, those are adorable,” you squeal. “Ahh, I love dogs so much. Don’t you, Jungkook?” Your eyes are shining as you look up at him, excited. 

Jungkook feels like he needs to sit down. “Of course. Who doesn’t?” He says, and you beam at him; he has to dig his fingers into his palms at how cute you are. He desperately turns his attention back to the video, where one of the puppies is nosing at a ball. “Look at them retrieve.”

“Retrieve my heart,” you say, clutching your chest. “Ahh, gosh, Joonie, you’re really living the dream, moving in with your hot boyfriend and getting a dog together.” You’re too busy imagining living in that reality to notice how all the tension leaves Jungkook the second he hears that Namjoon has a boyfriend. Oblivious. “Anyway, you should probably get back to work, I’ve distracted you for long enough. Sorry!”

“No problem.” Namjoon quirks a smile at you, nodding at Jungkook before moving away.

“Ahh, Namjoon is so lucky,” you say wistfully. “He’s so nice though, he deserves it.”

Jungkook is looking at you, curious. “You really get to know everyone, don’t you?”

“Huh?” You blink. “What? Yeah, I guess. Is that weird?”

“No.” Jungkook pauses, and you think that’s all he’s going to say on the matter, but then his mouth opens again. “You’re just so nice to everyone, and you actually pay attention to what they say and remember it. Most of the time when people talk, they don’t actually listen, they’re just waiting for when it’s their turn to talk about themselves, but you don’t do that. It’s cool,” he adds, belatedly. “I really admire it.”

You’re staring at him in shock. No one’s ever said anything like that before, complimented you in such a wholehearted way about something they’ve noticed about you. It's thrown you for a loop. You’re so used to thinking of yourself as a clown—a friendly clown, sure, but a clown nonetheless—that you’re genuinely shaken to the core after hearing what Jungkook’s just said about you.

He looks alarmed when you don’t respond, just blinking up at him as your brain desperately tries to reboot, but you’re saved from having to reply when Sejin calls out to you.

“Y/n, the computer at the front desk is playing up again." His hands are cupped around his mouth, amplifying himself so that you can hear him down the aisle. “You’re the only one who knows how to fix it.”

You snap out of your daze. “Again? You’ve tried turning it off and on again, right?” You’re about to walk away from Jungkook, but first you glance up at him, shy. “Um. Thanks for always being so nice, Kookie. I really appreciate it.”

“No problem,” he says. He sounds a little breathless. You don’t have time to ask why, Sejin’s noise of distress catching your attention. 

“I’m coming!” You rush off, nearly tripping on a loose grape on the floor; you manage to regain your balance with minimal flailing, unaware of how Jungkook fondly watches you go.

--

A few weeks later, you get sick. 

You’re really bad at being sick, one of the reasons being that you don’t like to admit that you are sick—and so you still roll into work despite the fact you’re clearly unwell.

“You look like a body that’s just been fished out of the water.” Yoongi shows his concern in an interesting way. “Like you’ve been floating belly up near that trash island in the middle of the ocean that’s the size of Texas.”

You fix him with a baleful stare. He’d threatened to not let you into his car earlier, locking the door as you’d been reaching for the handle; he’d only relented after you’d hissed at him and scrabbled at the glass like some sort of feral cat.

“You do look a bit more tired than usual,” Jungkook says delicately.

You groan. The noise sounds like it’s being ripped out of your throat, which feels as dry as the sahara desert; why are your throat and eyes so dry while your nose keeps running? Why is the liquid in all the wrong places? The human body is a wreck. (After glancing at Jungkook, who looks as perfect as always, you mentally correct yourself—your body is a wreck.)

“I’m fine,” you rasp, and then sniff, trying to stop your nose from dripping. Jungkook hands you a tissue. “I don’t need this, because I’m not sick, but thank you.”

You proceed to blow your nose loudly into the tissue, a trumpeting noise that trails off into a squeak, a sad little thing that sounds like the farting noise a balloon makes when all the air finally escapes it. Yoongi snorts with amusement but Jungkook’s brow is furrowed with concern.

Rather than being disgusted at your appearance—you’re not sick, you’re just suffering from mild allergies or something, so maybe you’ll admit that you look a little washed out—Jungkook has been worried about you from the moment you’d walked in. He’d even offered you his work fleece when he’d caught you shivering, which you’d graciously accepted. (Again, you weren’t shivering because you were sick, it’s just weirdly cold in the store today, even though no one else seems to be affected by it.) (Also, like, hello? The man of your dreams was offering you the chance to wear his clothes? As if you were going to say no to that.)

Despite definitely not being sick, you do sort of feel like your head is full of cotton wool, and everything seems so much louder than usual. Sejin takes pity on you and gives you the surprisingly easy job of counting stock out back in the warehouse, where it’s quieter and warmer—but you still keep Jungkook’s fleece on anyway, breathing in the lovely smell of his fabric softener as you idly count items, taking it slow.

You’ve climbed a stepladder so that you can reach a higher shelf, mentally tallying the cans of coke you find up there; you shuffle through them so you can turn the labels towards you, making sure you’re keeping the different flavours separate. (What’s the difference between diet and zero sugar, anyway? Aren’t they both the same thing?)

“Did I just see a pigeon walk past?”

You startle and nearly knock your row of cans off the shelf. Somehow you hadn’t noticed Jungkook walking into the warehouse, even though he clearly hadn’t meant to surprise you; his hands fly out to steady the stepladder, and though you appreciate this it throws you off balance and so you grab the shelf in front of you. One of the cans falls off, jostled by your movements, and your instinct is to try and catch it with your foot so it at least slows enough before it hits the ground that it doesn’t explode. 

In theory, it’s not a bad idea. In reality, you wildly overestimate how heavy the can is and so you put way too much power into the swing of your leg and punt the can of coke into the distance. The two of you trace its arcing trajectory as it disappears over the metal racking before landing with a distinctly wet clatter. Yeah, it’s definitely exploded, hasn’t it.

“Wasn’t me,” you say immediately, but then your slower-than-normal brain catches up with what Jungkook just said. “Wait, what?”

“I was wondering if you saw a pigeon walking around,” Jungkook says. “I think I saw it walking from the back entrance into here?”

Much to his obvious surprise, your eyes light up. You’re maybe not as exuberant as usual because of your illness but you’re still clearly excited. “Oh!” You hop down off the stepladder, nearly losing your balance for a second—maybe you are a teensy weensy bit sick—but then straighten up before Jungkook can help steady you. “Shortbread’s back!”

Jungkook looks baffled but follows after you when you start to walk, abandoning your stock counts. “Shortbread?”

“Yeah! Hold on, you’re taller than me. You see that bit of metal that juts out of the ceiling there?”

Jungkook looks at where you’re pointing. It’s against the back wall of the warehouse, the ceiling lower here than in the rest of the room, panelling and wires supported by criss-crossing bars of thick blue metal. “Yeah?”

“Can you reach up there and feel around a bit?” Jungkook makes a face, clearly not wanting to shove his hand into some mysterious hidden nook, but you look up at him with the best puppy dog eyes you can muster. You probably look like a wreck (what with how sick you are) but Jungkook relents immediately anyway; you think it's because he's nice and not because your attempt at being cute had been successful. He cranes upwards and feels around with his hand until it makes contact with crinkly plastic, and you motion for him to grab it—it’s an open pack of biscuits, with a receipt wedged inside that has your name scribbled on it.

“Gimme, gimme.” You make grabby hands at him. He tilts it towards you and you latch onto a biscuit, which is clearly stale; it crumbles almost immediately in your hands but you don’t pay it any mind, gesturing for him to put the tray back in its hiding place. “Where did you see the pigeon last?”

“Uh, near the soup, I think,” Jungkook answers. You immediately head in that direction, talking over your shoulder as he follows after you.

“You’ve seen that fishing net near the cardboard baler, right?” Your eyes flit to and fro, trying to spot the errant pigeon.

“Yeah, the green one? I was wondering why that was there.”

You click your tongue. “A few months ago we had a pigeon who kept flying here and wandering into the building,” you explain. “We knew it was the same pigeon because it has a tag around its leg? I think it’s a tracker pigeon, I don’t know. So I would use biscuits to get it to follow me outside. But then management got the net and someone said they caught it and, uh, ‘disposed’ of it.” You look equal parts distressed and sad and Jungkook’s chest twinges. “I haven’t seen it since, so even though I hoped that it wasn't the truth, I kind of accepted that it probably was.”

You round the corner past soups, heading towards the cereal overstock, when you both spot the pigeon. It’s slowly walking backwards and forwards on the floor, but when you appear, it stops and looks at you.

“Shortbread! It is you!” You sound absolutely elated, squatting down and proffering the mess of crumbs in your hand, sprinkling them in front of you. “I knew they hadn’t caught you!”

The pigeon—Shortbread—hops forward immediately, heading straight for the crumbs. You laugh in delight as it gets closer and starts to peck at the food. “You’ve gotta stop coming here, bud, Sejin’s going to get really mad if he spots you,” you say. Shortbread, of course, ignores you, more intent on eating the crumbs of—well, the crumbs of shortbread that you’ve given it. You look away from the pigeon, up at Jungkook, who’s watching you with an expression on his face that you can only describe as consternation. Does he dislike pigeons, maybe? “Do you want to feed him?”

“Doyouwanttogetcoffeewithme?” Jungkook blurts. The remaining crumbs of biscuit fall out of your hand, scattering into a wild constellation of fragments that Shortbread immediately swoops down onto—but you’re not paying the bird any mind, completely blindsided.

“Uh. What?” You stare up at Jungkook. Your mouth is open and slack with surprise; you hadn’t quite caught his words, but you could have sworn that he said— “Come again?”

Jungkook’s put a hand over his face, which is starting to turn red. “Do you—do you want to get coffee with me?” Even though he’s turned his head away from you, his eyes are pointed in your direction; Shortbread makes a cooing noise and starts to peck at the crumbs directly in front of you, but neither of you pay the pigeon any attention.

“Uh.” You know your brain is running on around 25% capacity right now, a mixture of your sickness and lack of sleep catching up with you, but you could swear that—what does Jungkook mean—nah, he doesn’t mean that, no way… haha… unless…? “You… want to get coffee? You know where we keep the jar.” Shortbread pecks at your open palm, a few crumbs still stuck to your skin. You’re momentarily distracted from your mental breakdown, giggling at the sensation of the pigeon’s beak, even though it hurts your throat to laugh. “Shortbread, there’s way more food on the floor, why are you trying to eat from my hand?”

“Y/n.” When Jungkook says your name your eyes snap back towards him. “Can I take you out on a date?”

This time you do catch all his words. Your mouth falls open again and you stare at him like the dumbass you are. Is Jeon Jungkook—your cute, kind, buff angel seriously asking you out? Right now? When you're squatting on a dusty warehouse floor with a handful of stale biscuit crumbs, wearing the world’s least flattering uniform, all while looking like some sort of washed out river corpse? (Thanks for that lovely comparison, Yoongi.) Has he lost his mind? Maybe lifting all those heavy crates meant that all the blood has run into his arm muscles rather than his brain and it's been starved of oxygen, because there’s no sane reason as to why Jungkook would be asking you out on a date.

“Me? A date?” Your voice comes out as a squeak. “With you?”

Jungkook looks absolutely mortified. You didn’t realise someone’s cheeks could go that red. “Forget I said anything,” he says, turning on his heel so that he can walk away; you catch a glimpse of bright crimson climbing up the back of his neck and the tips of his ears, too.

“No, wait, Jungkook!” You snap up from your squatting position and grab Jungkook’s shoulder, smearing crumbs onto his shirt. You feel light headed as he starts to turn around, but not because he’s looking at you—you’d stood up too quickly and you feel woozy from your illness, swaying off balance. 

You nearly careen sideways into some cereal overstock. Jungkook’s eyes fly wide open in alarm, interposing himself so that you land against him instead. There’s the sound of metal clattering as your weight sends Jungkook into the cereal, rattling the cage, but he holds you steady. You still feel a bit faint, but now you’re sure that it’s partially due to the fact that you’re crushed up against Jungkook’s warm, firm chest, his hands on your hips as he frowns down at you.

“Are you alright?” 

“Never better,” you mumble into the fabric of his polo shirt. (Jungkook's at risk of you snotting on him if your nose starts to run, but he doesn’t seem to care.) He smells even better up close than you ever could have imagined—thank god your sense of smell is still intact—and you melt against him for a second before your brain catches up with the situation and your head snaps back so that you can look at him. “Wait. Why were you about to leave?”

Jungkook’s look of concern turns instantaneously into one of embarrassment. “No reason,” he says, voice higher than normal, clearly uncomfortable.

You clench your fist and hit his firm chest, but with no strength behind the punch; your hand may as well have been a slice of bread for all the impact it makes. “Liar.” There’s no heat behind your words. “Did you seriously ask me on a date?”

Jungkook’s face is reddening again, but you’re still leaning against him. He can’t try to escape this time. “Uh. Yes?” From this close you can count his individual eyelashes, pick out the moles that dot his face, and, yep, you were right, he’s even better up close. “I’m sorry?”

You blink. “Sorry? For asking me out? Jungkook. Do you seriously think I’d say no?”

“... yes?” Jungkook’s voice is a squeak, much like yours had been a moment earlier. Holy shit. Does he not realise how amazing and hot he is? Does he seriously think that you, resident clown, would turn him down? Does he think you’re the one who’s out of his league?

You try to put this into words. Try to ask him this gently, so you can highlight just how ridiculous he’s being. However, what comes out of your mouth is: “Are you an idiot?” Thanks, brain, for once again abandoning you in your greatest time of need. Quick, reel it back. “Why would you think that?”

Jungkook, to your eternal gratitude, doesn’t seem offended at your implication that he’s stupid. He just seems flustered. “I—you’re just so unapologetically you, you know?” He says. "You're charismatic and confident and everyone likes you. You’re the most popular person on night shift. I’m too shy to talk to anyone and I just do the same thing every night I’m here, but you can do everything. I always saw you talking to the other morning workers and you were always so nice, but you never spoke to me? When you introduced yourself to me after I moved to nights, I was confused, but, uh, really happy.”

Holy shit. He really does think that you’re out of his league. He looks like he wants the ground to swallow him up after this little speech, mouth snapping shut while his cheeks continue to blaze red. He's so cute. He's going to be the death of you.

“Jungkook. I didn’t talk to you before night shift because you made me so fucking nervous,” you say. “I could barely look at you for weeks because you’re so beautiful that it kind of makes me want to barf sometimes and I couldn’t handle it. But then you moved to nights and I couldn’t avoid talking to you, and I found out how kind and hardworking and interesting you are, and—Jungkook, I don’t think I’ve ever crushed this hard on anyone in my life.” Why are you telling him all this? You must be more sick than you realise. Your mouth is entirely out of your control. “I get so excited for work now because it means I get to see you. Yoongi and Jimin have been listening to me gush about you for months. And Hobi too, but you don't know him. But I didn’t think you’d ever like me back so I didn’t say anything,” you admit, and the tiny part of your brain that’s still functional shoots a prayer off to God, or anyone else who’s listening, begging to be struck down by lightning. No such luck. “Uh. Basically, yes, Jungkook, I would love to go on a date with you, please excuse my rambling, my brain feels like it’s full of cotton.”

Jungkook’s eyes are wide. He’s staring at you like he can’t believe anything you’re saying. You abruptly realise that the two of you are still wrapped around each other in a very compromising position, in an area of the building where anyone could appear at any moment—not to mention that Shortbread is still fluttering around nearby, eating up crumbs with typical pigeon inefficiency.

“You—you think I’m beautiful?” Jungkook asks, and you blush.

“I think you’re the hottest person who’s ever existed, probably,” you answer honestly. “Please don’t ask more questions, I start to feel queasy whenever I have to express real emotion.”

“Y/n.” Jungkook seems to be rapidly getting over his shock, and a smile starts curling at his lips, and—yeah, you still wanna lick his teeth. Good to know. “I couldn’t possibly be the hottest person who’s ever existed.”

You snort, even though the action grates the back of your nose and throat. “Where’s your evidence?”

Jungkook gently squeezes you. “Right here,” he says. 

Your brain desperately scrabbles for purchase in reality, shutting down and then rebooting, internet modem sounds crackling slowly in your head as you try to get to grips with the fact that Jungkook just did that, even though the motion was meant to be tender. Why must your mind be so dirty? 

Wait. 

Wait, he thinks you’re hot?

“Jungkook, I look like death,” you say, and although you’re ostensibly referring to the fact you’re sick right now (fine, you’ll admit it, you’re sick), it’s more of a general statement.

“You’re gorgeous,” Jungkook says, deadly serious. Your heart flutters. What did you do to deserve this boy?

You’ve still got your faces tilted towards each other, and you can’t help but notice Jungkook’s eyes darting down to your lips. You’ve just started to inch closer to each other when your brain finally snaps back to full capacity and you’re shoving your hand in Jungkook’s face; the clean one, thankfully, not the one covered with biscuit crumbs. Seems like your brain came through.

“I don’t want our first kiss to be in the warehouse at work, when I’m sick,” you say. While that’s true, your heart is pounding in your chest at the idea that Jungkook apparently still wants to kiss you despite the fact you definitely need to blow your nose.

“Okay.” Jungkook’s voice is muffled against your palm. “That’s fair. Can you move your hand? It’s kind of hard to breathe like this.”

“Oh, shit, sorry.” You pull your hand away, and Jungkook takes in a deep breath; you feel how his chest expands and you’re once again reminded of how you’re flush against him. Jesus. “Uh, we should probably get Shortbread out of here before someone catches him.”

Jungkook lets you go so you can coax Shortbread towards one of the fire exits. He holds the door open as you squat down, wishing the pigeon good luck before you say goodbye; when you glance back up at Jungkook you notice the look on his face, open and fond, and your heart does a loop de loop in your chest when you realise that he's been looking at you like this a lot—your brain had just refused to let you notice it for what it is. What the heck.

As Jungkook lets the door shut behind you, you clear your throat. “Um. While I do absolutely want to get coffee with you, can it wait until I’m better? I don’t wanna be all crusty and snotty on our first date,” you say, weirdly shy despite the fact it’s obvious that Jungkook seems to think that you hung the moon. (Which you still don’t understand but you’re not complaining, not at all.)

“Sure.” Jungkook smiles and your heart flip flops in your chest again. The feats of acrobatics your heart achieves when Jungkook around is honestly astounding, but everything he does is just so… adorable. You’re certain that when you see him out of his work uniform and in his regular clothes you’re going to spontaneously combust, but you’ll cross that bridge when you come to it. “I should probably get back to fruit and veg, but, I’ll see you for lunch?”

“Yeah.” You smile helplessly back at him. “Of course. See you at lunch.”

Despite the fact you’re worried about getting him sick, Jungkook really doesn’t care about keeping his distance. When Yoongi walks into the canteen to the sight of you snuggled up to Jungkook and giggling as you feed him his lunch, your friend just rolls his eyes. “Kids these days,” he says, and you stick your tongue out at him.

“You’re just jealous that it’s taken me and Jungkook less time to confess to each other than it’s taken you with Jimin,” you say, and then gasp as you remember something. “Oh, Jungkook, that reminds me! What was that long conversation you were having with Jimin the other week?”

Jungkook flushes. “Uh, he was giving me advice on how to ask you out,” he admits sheepishly. “I wasn’t planning on just blurting it out in the warehouse, but you were being so cute that I couldn’t stop myself?”

You stare into Jungkook’s eyes for a few long moments, before solemnly saying: “Jeon Jungkook, if I wasn’t sick, I would absolutely be kissing you right now.”

“Ugh, please don’t,” Yoongi says. Jungkook buries his head into the material of his work fleece, hiding his embarrassment against your shoulder, and you just laugh.

[yoonpobs]

cold | pjm

pairing: park jimin x oc

genre: fluff, slight tsundere jimin, just cuteness tbh

words: 3, 339

summary: where jimin is ice cold but he wants you to warm him up (not in the way you think)

When Jimin pulls away for the first time in a year since you’ve met him during your movie nights, you suspect that something’s up. But, you also know Jimin—he would have said something to you if there was.

You raise an eyebrow at him, “You good?”

Jimin sighs at you, frustrated and you can’t help but feel confused at the sudden shift of atmosphere. You thought picking La La Land was a good choice, but you suppose that since Jimin was a little emotionally constipated he didn’t like it as much.

“I’m not, actually.” He declares, tugging off the blanket that covered both of your lower halves and withdrew from the warmth that settled into the couch.

“Do you—” You contemplate on asking because being Jimin’s friend meant respecting certain boundaries, and you weren't intending to be that friend that stuck their nose in his business.

You choose to remain silent and purse your lips and settle back into the couch, though it felt a little empty without Jimin bunched up next to you. But he was an enigma of unopened thoughts, and the time you spent navigating the course of your friendship in the first few months was ... heavy.

He’d never tell you anything, let alone allow you to indulge in the greatness that was his mind. You’d always hear from Namjoon how much he looks up to and respects Jimin’s way of thinking and mindset, but you rarely get to see that part of him. Sometimes, you felt more of a seat-warmer than a friend. You appreciate him, nonetheless.

“Aren’t you going to ask me about it?” He pries you.

You shrug, covering yourself with the blanket in hopes that it masks your vulnerability and insecurity, too.

“I know you.” You tell him, “You don’t like being questioned unless you say something about it first.”

He purses his lips in a straight line and looks at you ... like he really looks at you. So much that you feel his eyes burning into the side of your head; as if he was attempting to unravel your mind and dig into its deepest depths to understand its content.

“I don’t …” He says after looking at you, head-turning to face the television. Was La La Land seriously still relevant now?

“But I’m asking you to ask me.” He says, and the look of surprise on your face doesn’t disappoint. You gaped at him, forgetting the fact that Ryan Gosling looked really handsome on the screen—because Jimin had just prompted you to ask him about his … feelings.

“I—I don’t understand …” You say, dumbly. He rolls his eyes at you, and you’re familiar with his expression because it’s the one he usually has when he wants to call you an idiot.

“Ask me how I feel.”

You open your mouth, then close it. Your words fail you because the entire situation was sprung onto you so unexpectedly, and you suddenly feel self-conscious about everything. Was this Jimin’s way of assessing you as a friend and throwing you to the curb after a year of being platonically involved with one another?

As if he could hear the millions of thoughts running in your head, he turns to you and grabs your cheeks in between his large palms, and this time you actually short-circuit.

Your intimacy with Jimin stopped at sitting next to each other during movie nights and embracing the warmth that your bodies radiated. Maybe even the occasional accidental brush of fingers when he hands you something, but besides that—Jimin was conservative with his touches.

You can’t lie and say that your heart doesn’t react differently, because for the most part of your friendship you’ve suppressed any romantic feelings that you had or could have had for Jimin. Mostly out of self-preservation because Jimin was just … Jimin.

Cold, aloof but still someone that cared deeply. Yes, he was emotionally constipated when it came to his own feelings, and yes —his gaze more often than not had you cowering in fear. But he never made you feel uncomfortable. Even in the silences, you spent with one another you felt safe. Home.

Not to mention, his entire brooding and stoic persona hit it really well with the women on campus—and the fact he was obscenely attractive. He and you were the types of people that remained just as friends. And suddenly, that could end tonight, too.

“What’s going on in that pretty head of yours?” He hums, eyes chasing your own but you divert your attention away from him because your eyes tell.

You shake your head, “I’m just confused.”

And confused you were because this was a territory that was unheard of for you—much less for Jimin. If only you could telepathically speak to Namjoon right now because you had no idea what to do or say.

“Well, I’ll keep it simple for you,” He says, “ Ask me how I feel.”

He doesn’t ask you anymore, instead, he insists—as if there was a preconceived answer for you already in the back of his head. Maybe this was how he softened the blow.

“No.” You push him away, flustered. “I won’t let you friend break up with me like this!”

He raises an eyebrow at the sudden rise of voice you admitted, “I like being your friend even if you don’t—and—and I know that yeah, consent matters—but I do not consent to be friend broken up with.”

He listens to you, and his face is still in its signature blankness and you nearly scream at how you wished he’d display a little emotion or a reaction to your blow up. But it seems that between the two of you, you were the emotionally unstable one.

“I know I can be annoying and all over the place and loud but ...” You immediately opt to self-deprecate yourself because nothing could triumph the way it felt to do it yourself than have him say it to your face, “... you’re not allowed to leave me. Ever .”

You fold your arms across your chest and look away because what the fuck did you just do and your face was undebatably on fire right now.

As if he’s noticed the way your eyes widen in realisation, he holds you again—but this time he pulls you closer to his chest until you are forced to look up at him with your flushed cheeks.

“Silly girl.” He hums and you whine.

“What!”

“I have to do everything myself, hm?” He tucks a strand of stray hair behind your ears and it was instinctual for you to pull away because you’ve never felt Jimin like this before. Close, and warm—and all yours.

“Jimin I don’t understand— mpf!” And it was like a scene straight out of a romcom, and you nearly forget that La La Land was still running in the background. You felt like the main character of your own movie, and Jimin was the protagonist's love interest because he kissed you.

Jimin was kissing you.

Kissing. Like lip-locking. Sharing saliva. With you.

He pulls away too soon for your liking, but you gape at him like a fish out of water.

“You—” You stutter, and he chuckles. You feel it more than you hear it because his chest was resting against your cheek.

“Do you understand now?”

You shake your head, “... you feel bad for me?”

He snorts.

“I don’t know if you’re actually this much of an idiot, or are you just hopeless in the romantic department?” He says, and you open your mouth in the offense, ready to defend yourself but he hugs you closer to him and all you could feel was him.

“Excuse me? I’m not an idiot.”

“I just kissed you and you thought I felt bad for you.”

You huff, “What am I supposed to feel! You never speak about your emotions to me, and the most I’ve ever got out from you was a chuckle from the time where I slipped in front of the entire campus during freshers week.”

“That was when we met, yes.” He hums, “Why did you think I’ve been with you ever since?”

You still looked confused and Jimin internally sighs at the way he let himself fall for a dense excuse of a human being like you.

“Cause … you felt 'bad for me?”

"Just because you air-quote it doesn't make it any different from what you said earlier ____."

He groans, “No you dumbass—it’s cause no one makes me feel things the way you do. Strange weirdo who slipped on absolutely nothing, and as a friend who forces me to watch shitty romcoms like La La Land.”

“La La Land is not shitty!” You gasp.

He blinks.

“Is that all you got from what I said?”

“La La Land is phenomenal! All from the artistic production, to the soundtrack—so I don't know why people keep shitting on it because personally I really enjoyed—” But he kisses you again, and you melt into him immediately.

This time he lingers for a bit longer, and when he pulls away you grab onto his shirt to keep him close. You realise your mistake and suddenly push him away, but his hold on you was tight enough to resist your poor attempt.

“I like you, dummy.” He says, and you gasp.

“Nooo.” You say in disbelief.

“I like you.” He emphasises again, and you gasp. Again.

“No, you don’t.” You tell him, and he sighs—knowing that this was going to take a while.

“I do.”

“You don’t.”

“I do .”

“Nope.”

“ Yes .”

“Nuh-uh—!”

He clamps his hand over your mouth and glares at you.

“Me. Park Jimin—likes you, ____ ____, and yes —I can’t believe I like a complete idiot like you, but I do because you fucked up and made me like you from the moment you embarrassed yourself in front of everyone so bad that it was probably the hardest I’ve ever cringed in my life—”

“Hey!”

“—but you quite literally stumbled into my life with your whirlwind of emotions and you made me feel things that I’ve tried to avoid my entire life.” He holds your chin between his thumb and finger so you’d look at him. And you know that Jimin never lies, but something in your heart doesn't allow you that moment of happiness for yourself.

“But I'm annoying …” You say, a little unsure. Jimin simply looks at you, and you're frustrated again at the lack of emotion on his face.

“Yes, you are.” Is all he says, and you gape at his audacity.

You huff, throw the blanket off your body and make way to grab at your belongings that lay idle on the floor next to the couch. You pulled away from Jimin who attempted to grab at your wrist and glare at him so vehemently that he looked taken aback.

“This isn't a joke.” You tell him, and you hoped you looked as strong as you sounded because you felt played. Jimin didn't do this—you were just the clumsy freshmen that somehow befriended him, and he had no way out of it. So you decided to give him a way out on your own.

“Wait—of course, it's not—where are you going?” He exasperates when you make a beeline go to his door. You've never seen Jimin move as quickly as he did, but he manages to secure a tight grip on your elbow.

You try to shove him aside all while you felt like an immense idiot for allowing yourself to feel this way. To feel so human, and raw when you were with Jimin when he hadn't shown an inkling of emotion even when he declared that he ‘liked’ you.

“____—what’s wrong? Is it because I kissed you without asking you? I'm sorry but— ” He apologises and you groan.

“Stop treating me like this!” You yell at him to cut him off, “I know I'm clumsy, and a ditz—but I have feelings and it's not cool how you're doing all of—” You gesture to the hand on your elbow and to your lips, “— this, making me feel things that I shouldn't be feeling.”

“You're missing the point—!”

“Am I Jimin?” You exasperate, and he lets go of you for a moment to allow you space. “You've never shown any sign that you liked me for the past year of being friends, and now you're telling me you do?”

You scoff, “If you wanted out of this friendship, here it is.”

You reach to his doorknob with your back turned towards him, but Jimin was far stronger than you and reached out at the same time; essentially locking you into your position with nowhere to go.

“Just let me go,” You sigh, “I'm giving you your out.”

Jimin turns your body to face him and you avoid his stare. He was taller than you so being locked against the door was a little intimidating, given the fact that Jimin’s stare was nothing short of intimidating.

“Why would I want out?” He asks you, and you blink at him as if he's grown a second head.

“Now you're just treating me like I'm stupid .” You pout, “Did you not hear what I said? I know I'm annoying and I'll get out of your hair, just let me go—!”

You pull at his wrist but he holds you tighter and uses his other hand to softly grab at your cheeks to look at him. You stare at him with wide eyes and mouth scrunched like a fish, and you're sure this doesn't look the least bit flattering at all.

“Dude!”

“Please don't dude me after I just said I liked you.” He grimaces, then sighs.

He proceeds to clamp his hand over your mouth, “Now I need you to listen to me. And I mean— really listen. Not the thing that you do where you completely ignore my point and go on some childish rampage of how I think you’re annoying and want out.”

You glare at him.

He sighs, “I don't know how explicit I have to be—but I like you. I like your presence, I like hanging out with you—and I want to date you. I want everything that's in the book of romance and relationships with you.”

Your eyes widened and you attempt to speak but he clamps down harder than you whine.

“I know I'm an emotionless brick but I've been with you for the past year and my physical presence is the way I show you that I like you.”

You blink.

“And, I don't know if you've noticed but I've been inviting you over every fortnight just to cuddle up next to you to watch movies that are cheesy as fuck because I know that it makes your heart flutter—” He looks straight into your eyes and you're sure he can feel the heat of your cheeks on his hand.

“—I didn’t say this earlier because I was under the impression that you were aware and that we were kind-of-dating but not really— clearly, I was wrong.”

You manage to rip his hand off in his moment of weakness and gasp, “Kind-of-dating? Since when did that even happen?!”

He pointedly looks at you, “You have a toothbrush at my place, half of your closet is in mine—you walk my dog when I'm not home, and I buy your favourite cereal when I do groceries.”

“But—”

“Nope—the only reason I explicitly told you tonight because it was now clear to me that you weren't aware—” He gestures to your frazzled state, “—and that you said you were going out with Taehyung. Alone. To a pizza parlour.”

You barely manage to respond because he exasperates, “Do you know how datey a pizza parlour is?”

You gape at him, “Well excuse me! I didn't even know we were kind-of-dating until a minute ago!”

He glares at you, “And you didn't even believe me when I told you I liked you.”

You fold your arms across your chest, “Obviously. You don't even hold my hand, and you've never kissed me until tonight.”

You punch his shoulder and he hisses, “You didn't even formally ask me out!”

“You’re a scaredy-cat and if I did ask you out you’d probably run away from me!” He exasperates with his hands in the air.

“I’m not a scaredy-cat and I won’t run away!” You argue back and you were suddenly aware of how close he was to you.

You look up at him and notice how pretty his eyelashes were, and how he does look at you with an intimacy that you've only seen for yourself. The look that he reserved for you.

“I'm asking you out now,” He whispers, cupping your cheek.

“Date me. Be with me.”

You scoff, “God. Can’t you even be a little romantic? It’s like you’re demanding me to be with you.” You respond petulantly like a child.

He groans, “I'm not going to grovel you if that's what you're expecting.”

“Tell me why then.”

He raises an eyebrow.

You clear your throat and fiddle with your thumbs, a nervous tick you have.

“Tell me why you like me.”

Jimin stares at you and you want to complain about his stoic expression but he cups your cheeks in his hands a little harder and forces you to really look at him—as if his face held all the answers.

And when you did, you see the desperation behind his eyes, the dedication that he possesses only for you. The way he looks at you like he's meant to prove something to you, and then everything made sense to you—he wasn't inexpressive—you were just too caught up in your own world that you never noticed.

“Jimin—” Your voice cracks but he shushes you, softly.

“Listen to me, okay?” He asks of you and you gently nod.

“I like you because you're here,” He starts off and you were about to scoff but he speaks again knowing your predetermined reaction, “You’re present— always. I don't mean just because we're always together, but because even when we're texting you're there. You're involved.”

“You're expressive in ways that don't need words to tell me anything, which is why I know you like me too.”

“Cocky, much?” You scoff but the burn on your cheeks give the truth away

He smiles a little before continuing, “But that's not it—I like you because you're patient. You stuck with me being emotionally constipated for the first half of our friendship, and yet you're still here.”

“Even though you nearly ran out of here spewing some bullshit about me taking you as a joke—”

“Okay … I may have blown it out of proportion.”

“—but I wouldn't want to have you any other way. Even if it took me literally trapping you against a door for you to listen.”

You melt into his touch and look up at him, “Do you really like me?”

“I really do.” He affirms you, and you tug him closer to bury your head into his chest.

“Can you hold my hand next time?” You ask, softly. And he chuckles against the top of your head, caressing it gently.

“Of course. That's the only way you won't run away from me next time, right?” He teases.

You whine.

“I'm never going to let you go.” He tells you, “You're pretty like this—all mine .”

You smile up at him and Jimin swears his heart melts to be rebuilt whole by you again.

“But you called me an idiot ...”

“Two things can be true at the same time.”

You gasp, “Rude—!”

He shuts you up with a kiss more passionate, and a lot more eager that has your head spinning.

When he pulls away, you feel your heartbeat a little faster—especially at the string of saliva that connects your mouths.

“Mine,” He says. You can't help but nod.

His.

[multiplefandomsblog]

request; Shuichi and his fem!s/o take each other virginity?

pairing(s); shuichi x AFAB! reader

warnings; post-game saihara, saihara has some PTSD from the killing game but it is not heavily mentioned, cussing AFAB! reader, soft dom! Shuichi, vanilla-ish, intense kissing, mention of marriage, hurt/comfort-ish?, angst-ish?, petty arguments, sexual frustration, they both losing their v-card, shuichi picks you up, shuichi reads porn mags but not elaborated here, established relationship, they've been dating 6 months btw, they're living together, cyring, begging, accidental overstimulation, self-indulgent, irresponsible and unprotected sex(always wrap it before you tap it you fucking idiots), unedited but used spellcheck. OKAY I KNOW 6 MONTHS IS REALLY SHORT AND I HAD A DIFFERENT IDEA IN MIND BUT I JUST DBHSBJHSBD IM SORRY THIS IS JUST SUPER MESSY

note; i rushed the end and this is kind of garbage(god please don't read this), but here's a few songs that i listened to while writing this;

505 - Arctic Monkeys & Cute Panties Soaked In Arizona Iced Tea - Sewer//Slvt & a bunch others idk

wc; 5.8k+

You both dabbled in the idea of having sex, having shared mutual trust and desire for each other within the early stages of your love-filled relationship.

Even so, the obvious statements were left unsaid, and the obvious desire you both have for each other’s bodies had been left alone, never to be picked up again.

Now don’t underestimate yourself, there would be some not-so-rare make-out sessions when you both got into the mood and made sure to give each other ‘the look’, but they’d always end in Shuichi stiffening up and asking if you’d like to stop.

And like an idiot, you had always said the same goddamn thing, the opposite of what you wanted to say. “Sure, y- yeah.” Always praying he wouldn’t hear the disappointment in your voice. You didn’t want him to be upset that you wanted to continue, because wouldn’t that just be selfish of you?

Your prayers always seemed to be answered anyway, though mostly carried by Shuichi’s helplessly obvious nature; he ate it all up.

But maybe you should’ve been praying for the opposite because otherwise, you wouldn’t be here right now.

Maybe it was the stress from the fact that Shuichi’s boss yelled at him today, maybe it was from the fact that he had one of his colleagues accidentally file one of the most important cases, improperly, maybe it was because you both hadn’t fucked in 6 months.

Well, whatever it was, it had Shuichi fuming.

“This? Again?” Shuichi sighed in an attempt to calm himself, his face lacking the patience it usually held.

“What do you mean ‘again’!? I’ve told you this, tons of times before!” To be fair, you had no idea why you had been so angry either, but before you could even think or hold yourself back, random arguments you truly never cared about had been brought up.

What the hell were you two even fighting about?

Despite your mind screaming at you to stop, your mouth continued to act first. “God, why don’t you ever listen to me? You know, sometimes it seriously just feels like I’m talking to a brick wall when I talk to you.” That wasn’t true.

“Is that right?” He didn’t know what came over him. “Well, if we’re talking about our talking habits, I think you sometimes talk too much; it’s hard to keep track of what you’re saying sometimes, and it just- it brings me a headache…!” That wasn’t true either; he was a detective, he listened to every single detail you spoke out from those beautiful lips. Shuichi would listen as intently as he would during an investigation as he gathered information from perps.

But you didn’t know that. You had been too busy reeling from his previous statement to remember all the nice moments you had before this. His words felt like acid on your palpitating heart. Did you talk that much?

You gulped, lip trembling without your consent. “Y- yeah?”

No, I didn’t mean any of it. Please don’t look at me like that. “... Yeah.” Shuichi averted his eyes as he lied for no good reason.

You nodded in feigned indifference, chewing the inside of your cheek as you attempted to walk past him and outside the kitchen — to which he immediately stopped you, an urgency laced within his actions. Sudden anxiety wracked his body, and images of the previous executions flashed in his mind.

You couldn’t go.

With his eyes wide in a slight panic, they narrowed back to their normal width as he took a deep breath, pulling you towards him and suddenly pushing his lips on yours. “Shu-” he blanketed any open space for noise to escape through with his lips, kissing you with desperation you’ve never witnessed firsthand.

Despite your internal concern for him, your hands slipped up his shoulders to the back of his neck, pushing him closer to you than he already was on instinct.

Okay… This was okay. It was better than fighting, that was for sure.

You were confused by the sudden display of physician affection, but you could only get a little of you to care; you missed him. It had only been 5 minutes into the fight, yet you had been pulling him close like you hadn’t seen him in a year. Luckily for both you and him, he missed you too. He didn’t like fights. Especially not meaningless ones like these.

You both didn’t know how, nor when, but before you knew it, you had been sitting atop the kitchen counter, legs wrapped tightly around Shuichi’s waist as his hands gripped yours. A familiar, heavy feeling of arousal pooled up at your stomach, remaining there like an itch you knew only Shuichi could scratch. Shuichi was comfortably close for you to somewhat feel his phone poke at your thigh, but even so, not close enough. Clothes started to feel restricting, and you both shared the same need to just tear them off, but

—

“S/o,” he muffled on your lips, trying his best to try and pull away from your captivating lips on his, though it was incredibly hard with those velvety lips of yours.

“S/o!” The bad feeling in his stomach grew, and he suddenly realized it had been because he didn’t want such a special moment for the two of you, to be spoiled by a petty fight neither of you would remember in a few days. He didn’t want your shared story to be an argument that leads to sex. Call him a hopeless romantic but, that simply didn’t sit right with him.

Shuichi pulled away abruptly, apologizing under his breath as he avoided eye contact with a slightly puzzled you. “I…” He started nervously, gently nestling his forehead atop your beating heart in an attempt to self-soothe himself.

"I don’t want us to finally, um, do... This out of- of anger and- S/o, you have to know that I love you so much and that I-” That wasn’t what he meant to say, it didn’t come out right, but no matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t think of what he had originally planned to say. His mind was jumbled, words weren’t good enough for him anymore. Shuichi began to prick small unwanted tears at the corner of his eyes as he rambled with sincere intention.

“I don’t want to look back at this day and- Or what if you regr-”

You shook your head frantically before he could finish his sentence, gentle fingertips tapping the underside of his head as you urged him to look into your eyes. You sighed fondly as you swam in those pools of liquid gold, a small, assuring smile contorting onto your face.

“It’s okay, I know, I know you didn’t mean it.” You took another breath as you continued, a deeper inhale. “And I know what you mean but, Shuichi I… No matter what, I could never regret a single thing with you,” His hands tightened around you.

“And frankly, it doesn’t matter how we ended up… Doing this with each other.” It was kind of funny how you both couldn't say the word 'sex'. A three-letter word that may have seemed terrifying to the two of you back then, started to gradually lose its intimidation factor.

“Because as long as you love me, and I love you, that’s all that will matter.” You lightly laughed at how sappy you sounded; wondering if you’d be this romantic when reciting your vows.

You two weren't even married.

But Shuichi would be lying through his teeth if he said he hadn't visualized you in a veil; and wow, did you look amazing.

Shuichi paused, gazing up at you with intense affection, and love for you. You could feel your cheeks heat up from how intently he gazed at you, you couldn't help but slightly shrink underneath his gaze.

Without missing another beat, Shuichi suddenly broke the gaze, and wrapped his arms underneath your bottom, picking you up with a concealed struggle. He'd have thought spending most of his time typing in that office, would give him some sort of arm strength.

Well, you'd find out later, wouldn't you?

Making his way to the bedroom carefully, Shuichi gently set you down on your back, trapping you in between his arms and locking his lips back onto yours soft and slowly, unlike his last pecks.

You could feel your heart rate speed up as he started to run his hand underneath the thin material of your top, and despite the rising anxiousness itching at you, the feeling of love and anticipation easily overpowered the feeling — though not completely.

For a split second, Shuichi pulled away to pull your shirt up and over your head, and the moment his loving, eager golden eyes found their way back to you, he swore he almost suffered a cardiac arrest on the spot.

With your hands resting beside your head, lips swollen and exposed chest heaving; he thought you looked like the most stunning human being that had ever graced this earth.

And he wasted no time showing you how he felt.

Quickly stripping himself of his shirt, you watched in slight amusement as he struggled to throw the material across his room, his eagerness becoming his enemy. He felt the mattress slightly dip and inflate, though he couldn't see anything as his vision was obstructed. Shuichi — despite having a feeling you had sat up and was probably going to help — didn't want to submit into his embarrassment just yet. He could take off his shirts, and he was going to prove it-

His eyes clenched shut in frustration, suddenly shot open as he felt a cool breeze hit his warm face, as well as the sound of quiet laughter.

"C- come on, don't laugh...!" Shuichi complained half-heartedly.

You grinned. "Sorry, sorry," You raised your hands in defence, taken by surprise as

Shuichi pinned the same hands back onto the bed, playfully pecking your face all over before moving down the valley of your neck and collarbone.

You did your absolute best to not laugh as Shuichi had told you to, but you couldn't prevent the huge, goofy smile that broke out on your face. The euphoria of having someone you truly love and trust, showering you with affection, combined with the ticklish feeling of his slightly chapped lips on your neck, had caused you to giggle.

"Is it- Is it really that funny?" Shuichi grumbled, kisses turning into gentle bites as he wanted to get you to make noises that weren't giggles; not that he didn't adore the sound.

Just not in this situation, nor position.

"It's not, I-" You snorted, "I promise! I just, I feel really, really happy right now." You admitted in between laughter.

You felt Shuichi pause against your neck, and your laughter died down as you wondered if you did something wrong.

"Shuichi-?" You squeaked as you felt his warm breath and kisses travel quickly towards your stomach, right above where you wanted it most. You could feel your face heat up, as well as your core, from the mere puff of air.

Your excitement slowly turned to dread as you felt his hands slowly slide down to the waistband of your pants, and without realizing it, you stiffened up. You felt slightly guilty of your reaction; you wanted this, right? You were so excited a moment ago, where did it go? The logical part of you didn't seem to want to chime in and say, 'It's a natural reaction!'

So you settled for chewing your lip in an attempt to distract yourself from the heart-wrenching guilt.

The action hadn't gone unnoticed by Shuichi; he knew that habit all too well. It was a nervous habit, quite often in many people, but it always seemed to drive Shuichi crazy when you did it. He never noticed when others did, as he was constantly too busy staring straight at you like a boy with a hopeless crush.

But look at him now.

Shuichi from 6 months ago probably wouldn't believe the Post-Shuichi, that he had got the chance to be your boyfriend, let alone share such an intimate moment with someone as special as you.

"Hey, look at me," He grinned gently as he caught your attention.

"It's... It's just me here. You don't have to worry, or be nervous because I'm right here, and I... I'll love you no matter what." It was hypocritical to say, as his hands had practically been quivering beyond his control, but he spoke the sincere truth for you.

He watched in slight anxiousness as you stayed in silent, stunned shock. Shuichi started wondering if he should've said something else-

"O- Okay, yeah, you can- You can, um." You didn't mean to sound so awkward, but you hoped the slight eagerness laced in your voice made the message clear enough for him.

Shuichi slipped his thumbs underneath the waistband of your pants, golden eyes focused entirely on your face as to detect any discomfort.

Seeing none, he slipped the rest of it off, growing excited yet also nervous as he saw you for the first time. "You're soaked..." He uttered underneath his breath in stunned awe, unwillingly causing you to jerk your legs shut.

And who's fault is that!? You wanted to say that, but in the condition and position you were in right now, it didn't seem very possible nor ideal.

You let out a small whimper as you felt Shuichi gently encourage your legs back open, a small pout on his face as you hadn't given him enough time to savour the visual.

No words were said, and no words were needed as Shuichi communicated his wanton need for your pussy with nothing but his eyes. Captivated and persuaded by his puppy-dog eyes, you hesitantly opened your legs back up, silently gasping as you felt the cold air hit your glossy folds yet again.

Your momentary shock faltered into embarrassed confusion as you caught Shuichi staring at it with a thoughtful gaze. It was strange; you felt like an animal at the zoo up for display to just... Stare at.

But perhaps the most embarrassing thing about the whole thing was the stars in his eyes as he watched you twitch and shudder. “Sh- Shuichi.” You tried to snap him out of his gaze, face growing hotter and hotter as time passed by with him continuing to stare at your impatient pussy.

“I’m just going to… Put one in.”

If there was anything Shuichi had learned from the numerous articles on how to please your partner during sex, is to always prep them.

“Wait, huh-?"

His finger sunk in easily, prodding finger slipping into a pillowy bundle of nerves; it was like heaven on earth for Shuichi, and he wanted to make sure it felt the same for you.

"Hah- Nnnn!”

Your loud moan snapped him out of his trance, and unfortunately, he had reacted a moment too late as his finger had already been knuckle deep.

Experiencing a mini panic attack, guilt overwhelmed his body, and he moved to pull out, only to be caught by surprise as you caught his wrist right before he could.

"N- No...! It's- It's okay, mmngh- Just- just feels good, is all." You were glad you hadn't lost the complete ability to speak yet; because that'd surely be humiliating, wouldn't it?

Shuichi tensed his hand unintentionally, causing you to jolt slightly as you could feel every single movement. Shuichi's eyes widened in realization and guilt at your sudden reaction.

"A-Ah, sorry! I didn't mean to-" He cut himself off, head tilting as you moaned a little too loud for your taste — but not loud enough for his.

Shuichi shifted himself, so his face was hovering over your blissed-out one, slight confusion taking over your features as he seemed to be watching you carefully, almost as if he was expecting something —

With a sharp inhale, you felt your hole swallow in another finger, the pleasure now doubled up. If this is what fingering felt like... Then you'd have to assume the main course felt 5x as good as this, right?

Your hands shot up to his shoulders to dig your nails into, the pleasure finally becoming too much as he started experimentally moving in and out slowly.

Shuichi would've asked, 'Is this okay?' but judging by your moans and pleas for more, he concludes he has his answer.

Running his thumb down your folds, Shuichi decided he would explore your pussy as he continued his slow thrusts in your clenching hole — and what better way to do that than to accidentally brush his fingers against your clit?

You nearly sobbed, climax rising alarmingly close, before dropping as Shuichi continued with his exploration.

"Shuichi! T- There! Right there! Please!" You repeated like a mad man, nearly jolting up if it wasn't for Shuichi's body that loomed over you.

With a confused, but obedient nod of his head, Shuichi tested the waters yet again, eyebrows furrowing as he pressed around in random spots. "Ah!" His eyes widened in slight achievement as he watched you start to violently spazz out the moment he pressed onto a button-like nerve.

"C- Coming, I'm- I'm comin- Ahnn!" Shuichi began roughly circling his thumb over the bundle of nerves, unknown of how sensitive the nerve was, and unknowingly forcing you into overstimulation.

"Sh- Ah- W- Wait!" You stammered, squirming away from his unrelenting hand, unsure as to why it had felt as strong as it felt. "Wait, please!" Shuichi suddenly pulled away from your clit, panic taking over his body yet again as he carefully picked you up and slipped you onto his lap.

"I- I'm sorry...! I didn't... Are you- Are you okay?" He stuttered, eyes wide with concern.

Had he gone too far? Was he missing something? Maybe there was a spot you didn't like?

You shook your head, doing little to assure the rising storm of worry you knew Shuichi would accumulate.

"I- I'm okay, it felt good. I think you just overstimulated me a bit but," You brought your arms around his neck, scooching your partially numb ass over his erection.

"... Not like I didn't like it." You grinned lopsidedly, leaning up to capture his lips into a passionate kiss, one filled to the brim with ever-lasting passion. He wasted no time to reciprocate, face slightly reddening as he groaned from the slightest pressure of your thigh pressing down against his erection.

"Sorry...-" Shuichi slipped in an apology, before quickly being sent back into the depths of your touch.

"Don't be-" You countered, letting one of your hands run down the crevices and nooks of his scrawny chest and stomach, down to trace his faint V-line.

"Mm-" An unplanned moan slipped out, and the blush on his cheeks worsened. He was sensitive, and that was to be expected for a first-timer. Though Shuichi refused to believe it was his sensitivity, but your soft touch.

Jolts of pleasure shot up his spine, and his pants only grew tighter, to the point where his brain was screaming at him to take them off.

Lucky for him, you complied without another thought.

You broke the kiss, resting your forehead against his chest as you hunched over to unbuckle his pants. The breathy and beautiful sounds of Shuichi panting like a dog-in-heat above you only made your fingers work faster. The sound of his zipper being pulled down hit his ears, and his eyes clenched tight shut as he felt a curious hand fiddle with his boxers.

"Can I...?"

He nodded frantically, an adorable eagerness overtaking control of his actions.

As you slipped your hand into the binds of his grey-scale boxers, you weren't sure what you were going to see, or how he would feel once you got your hands on his stiff length.

Shuichi wasn't sure what he was expecting either, but expectations didn't matter when you were with each other, right?

"H- Hnnnn...!"

Well, even so, he sure as hell wasn't expecting his strained whine he let out the moment your hand coiled around the base of his cock. With his whine unintentionally egging you on, you decided to pull it out all the way, curious to see him.

God, if you were to laugh now, he'd probably die.

The truth was, you weren’t sure if you could physically laugh, nor breathe…. Or even speak for that matter. He rendered you speechless, and as he tried to read your expression, he found himself praying the silence was a good thing. Though before the thick, lust-filled air could suffocate you both, you decided to voice your thoughts.

“W- Will that fit…?” Your face was probably as hot as a pizza pocket fresh out of the oven.

Now, you weren’t sure what a real dick looked like; you hadn’t seen one in real life before, so maybe it was average in dick sizes, but you couldn’t help but shudder from uncontrollable excitement combined with the fear of that thing tearing into you.

Shuichi noticed the look of fear on your face, and his instinct kicked in; nervosity and anxiety went as he focused on your needs instead, something he’d always done, to an almost unhealthy point.

You let yourself fall back onto the mattress yet again, your head that had been lost in its own thoughts, hitting the plush pillows as Shuichi softly guided you comfortably down. It seemed only now did you realize you were completely bare to Shuichi, head to toe, naked. What a convenient time.

Shuichi’s T-Shirt struggles couldn’t distract you now, and so there you sat, avoiding eye contact with the worried boy as you shrunk further into yourself. You were ready, you repeated to yourself. But perhaps your true fear had been, was he ready for you?

His voice broke the upsetting silence, and out came the words you didn’t want to hear. “If you’re having doubts, we don’t have to do this today, or ever, for that matter.” Shuichi was so close to you, you could practically hear the sound of his little heart beating unevenly. Your hand subconsciously lifted and set itself on his chest to try and feel the small hum and vibration of his heart, and for a second you almost forgot what he had asked.

“I… Shuichi, I want this but,” You weren’t sure how to explain, and a part of you wished he could just read your mind and tell you exactly what you wanted to hear. But relationships weren’t that easy.

“I… What if I dissatisfy you? Like, what if I’m too small, or too loose, or- or what if how I look impacts the experience; are you sure you want to have your very first time with someone like me? Like-” Shuichi cut you off with his lips, the desire for you to stop talking about things that would never happen, as well as the desire to kiss you, combining into this moment.

The man wore an expression of pure earnestness; the confidence he had almost scared you. “I love you so much, and none of that matters to me. I promise you, none of that will ever happen.” His voice was heartbreakingly sincere, to the point where you felt guilty for doubting him.

He, honest to god, understood how you felt completely. Shuichi was afraid he would cum too early, or if he wasn’t long enough, or girthy enough- He was terrified of ruining your first experience with him, he just didn’t want to look the emotion because he was afraid diffidence wasn’t sexy.

Maybe it was ridiculous, but to be fair, your assumption of yourself dissatisfying him was even more so.

Not trusting your own voice to speak, you simply averted your eyes and nodded, exhaling slowly as you tried to push your doubts away. Shuichi followed your gaze, using a gentle hand to tilt your head back to face him, wanting you to look at him as he finally puts it in.

“I’ll go… really slow, okay? Tell me if you want me to stop, okay baby?” You went beet red at the new pet name, but before you could counter his sneaky remark, your voice and breath were stolen from you as you felt something warm throb at your entrance. Was that his —

“Sh- Shit...!” You hissed, eyes clenching tightly shut to conceal the small tears prickling at the corners of your eyes. You were right, it was going to hurt.

Shuichi had only slipped in the tip of his cock, marvelling at how easily it sunk in at fault to your slick. He bit back several low moans that threatened to spill out of his mouth, God, you felt so warm inside. Perhaps it was a gross thought, but Shuichi hadn’t exactly been thinking anymore, eyes clouded and nearly crossed from the intense, foreign but pleasing feeling.

“H- How does It feel this good…?” He slipped quietly to himself, eyes lidded as he lost himself in your embrace.

Gulping harshly, he stilled his hips and tore his eyes away from your walls that hugged him so snugly, shifting his attention instead to your pained expression. With a hushed and strained voice, Shuichi voiced several shy but sincere praises and assurances.

His bony hands travelled up from your hips, to lace your hands, fingers shakily lacing your fingers together. Shuichi found himself sighing in relief as he could feel your stiffness slipping away, squeezing your hand as a reminder that he was proud of you for it.

“Do you want me to move?” Shuichi asked, worried eyes darting to your concealed ones.

You pursed your lips, hesitating to shake your head no. You knew they couldn’t stay like that forever — Well, Shuichi probably would’ve if you told him to, but you couldn’t do that to him. Then again, you were still trying to get used to the painful yet filling intrusion in between your legs.

You were on a mental crossroad, unsure of what to say in response to such a simple question. And great, now you left him too long without a reply; the poor guy was just laying there. You could hear your brain screaming at you to just say something! Just fucking say something-!

Shuichi noticed your slight discomforted expression, as well as feeling you tense underneath him. A light bulb went off in his head as he thought of a way to make it all better, and he opened his mouth to speak once again.

“Hey, it’s okay, it’s okay, just um… Just trust me, okay?” You felt him squeeze your hands again, to which you squeezed back, voice caught in your throat.

You trusted him, of course, you did. What if he didn't know how much you trusted him? You would put your entire life in his hands, you would jump off a cliff if he told you it was safe.

Your lifeline spoke up again, "Take a deep breath and then exhale at three. R- Ready?"

You nodded, taking the deepest breath you could.

"One," Shuichi whispered.

"Two," You felt your shoulders relaxing.

"Three." As soon as your entire body sunk into the sheets, relaxing completely, he sunk the rest of his length inside you, pushing harshly against your hands pinned on the bed for leverage. Shuichi had been holding his breath as to not moan too loud, despite the foreign feeling, it almost felt like it was meant to be like this. Would it be cheesy if he thought fucking you was his destiny?

You gasped sharply, eyes shooting open as your jaw dropped, silent screams escaping your mouth as your back arched into him.

"Ah- Ah!" Your strained moans grew louder as the stretch finally registered within you. A bead of sweat formed on your forehead as you squeezed his hands tightly, wanting to pull him closer.

Shuichi didn't say anything, biting down on his lip and nearly drawing blood as he bottomed out, his balls clapping gently on the tender skin of your ass.

You couldn't help but whine uncontrollably the feeling being too much. You could feel everything. The small curve of his perfect cock, the feeling of his tip pulsating into your walls and every goddamn accidental shift of his Shuichi’s hips.

With his hips pressed as close as they could be against yours, you had no choice but to wrap your legs around his waist, heels bumping against his tail bone as you did such.

Everything seemed to slow after a couple of seconds filled with breathy silence, your heart rate slowing down as well. The stretch remained, but the pain slowly melted away with every exhale you took, pleasure and need overtaking it instead. “Sh- Shuichi.” After hearing your voice so brittle, Shuichi lifted his head from your shoulder in urgency and concern. “Y- Yeah? D- Don’t worry, I won’t move until y-”

“N- No, you can- You can move, it- I want it.” You stammered over your words, suddenly shy as you pleaded for him. It was embarrassing to be begging for something so lewd, but you’d soon learn that embarrassment wasn’t valid when you were screaming your lungs out.

You’d wonder why you were both suddenly so timid with each other, treating each other like fragile glass that could break if you arose your voice too high.

Nodding uncertainly at your words, Shuichi gave your hands one last reassuring squeeze unsure if he had done that to assure you or him.

With a shaky inhale, Shuichi tested the waters by rolling his hips against yours gently. Worrying whether he was doing it right, as well as worrying if he hurt you. Though he’d be lying if the worry didn’t somewhat slip his mind the moment he felt that nearly irresistible wave of bliss wash over his body. Not wanting the feeling to stop, Shuichi decided he’d do it again, causing you to moan louder than the first time.

He couldn’t help but feel something strike his heart, and before he knew it, he was thrusting harder, more, aiming in different directions to get you to moan louder.

“Hah!” It was a foreign feeling, but that didn’t necessarily mean it was a bad thing. You could feel your heart pulsating, a thin layer of sweat cultivating on your skin and his, and most of all you could feel Shuichi moving inside you. Every inch of him rubbed against your walls, and all of it just felt so fucking addicting.

“S/o!” His call for your name had lost itself in the sea of your moans as well as his own.

You could only reply in rickety moans, body bouncing as each thrust he granted upon you pushed your head closer to the headboard; the only thing keeping you as close as you were to Shuichi, being your connected hands.

“Sh- Shuichi, fuck!” You couldn’t even remember your name anymore, the name of your lover rolling off your tongue a couple of hundred times as your eyes rolled into the back of your skull, his hard pace driving you to insanity. You couldn’t even recognize yourself anymore, moans that escaped your lips sounded so pornographic you couldn’t possibly assume those were yours.

Shuichi on the other hand had been moaning and grunting like he was in pain; the way your walls clenched around him had brought him closer and closer to his high, but he didn’t want to cum just yet. He wanted to get that sweet spot.

It was so incredibly gratifying every time you called out his name; maybe not-so for the neighbours, but he couldn’t help but feel slightly smug as his neighbours would’ve known that it was — “Shuichi!” — who had been making you wail and moan like that.

Your uncertainty and discomfort from earlier disappeared into thin air, forgotten forever as you lost yourself in this new feeling of being plowed like a cornfield.

Finally finding the energy and courage to pry open your tear-filled eyes, your jaw remained slack, mouth blubbering out nonsense and ‘I love you’s as you made eye contact with Shuichi.

You felt your heart stutter and stop a moment as you saw how pretty he looked at that moment. With his facial expression contorting into one of pure pleasure, and a thin layer of sweat making his skin almost seem like it was glowing, combined with the loving look in his eyes; it was all too much, and before you knew it, you made your own lewd expression as you felt a foreign knot suddenly build up and untie in your stomach just as quick.

With stuttered, pathetic attempts at pleading his name, you attempted to get his attention as you had been slightly afraid of what was building up inside you. “Sh- Shu- Some- Something’s- Mmnhah!” You sobbed out, jaw going slack as screams poured out from your throat.

Shuichi’s eyes widened just a fraction as he realized what was happening, slowing his hips before suddenly going faster than before, grunting as he brought himself back to his high. “It’s- It’s okay baby, just let go- Urk—!” Shuichi wheezed as he felt your trembling vaginal walls clamp onto his throbbing length, feeling as if he had just gotten the air punched out of him. Well, you were only following his order.

Hunching over you, he squeezed your hands as he rolled his hips one last time, slow and deep, causing you to elicit a louder scream from the spot he hit. He had to suppress a thankful smile; there it was. He began to dig his glans especially hard into that spot, causing you to sob and squirm from the intense pleasure he had been putting onto you. “S- So good- I- I can’t-” You stammered, mind fuzzy and misfunctioning as your orgasm had been concentrated by Shuichi’s bold action.

You wondered if this was his first time; he seemed so experience like he knew all the right spots to press and prod at.

When really, he just read way too many porn mags.

Shuichi’s breath hitched as he felt his cock twitch, not long after the mini action, he had finally released inside you, going slack over your body as he nearly cried into your shoulder from how good it felt. Desperate and shaky moans and groans spilled from the binds of his thin lips, and no matter how hard he tried to dig himself into your neck, the moans remained loud.

Time seemed to slow down, Shuichi had gone flaccid inside you and quiet as he tried to catch his breath. Despite the lower half of your body still incredibly sensitive and numb, you managed to switch your positions, shifting him, so he was laying on his side instead of you.

He let himself be cradled by you, sweaty skin sticking together in an uncomfortably comfortable way. It was warm.

“... God, we should’ve done that months ago.” You half-joked, voice gravelly.

Shuichi groaned in response, wincing as he pulled out slowly.

“I don’t think I.. regret waiting.” Shuichi truthfully spoke, smiling a lopsided grin.

“Because it made this moment more special… right?” He hoped he wasn’t the only one to think so.

You nodded, eyes eventually drifting shut. “Yeah… You’re right, you’re.. always right.”

[pleasereadmeok]

This ‘Wonderland’ Interview to promote A Single Man is a gem.  Matthew Goode is a bit of a handful and swears his way through this interview with his mate Nic Hoult.  It’s very funny.  It’s often quoted (including his description of Colin Firth’s kissing technique!) but it’s difficult to find a clean scan of the whole interview.  This scan (from Natalie/ Fairchilds on ohnotheydidnt) isn’t very clear to read so I did a transcript several years ago - here:-

Wonderland Interview

Based on the 1964 novel by Christopher Isherwood, A Single Man marks the screenwriting and directing debut of fashion icon, Tom Ford.  Having debuted earlier this year at the Venice Film Festival to a standing ovation, the film has continued to impress audiences during screening at the Toronto and London Film Festivals.

Joining lead actor, Colin Firth, on screen are fellow Brits Matthew Goode and Nicholas Hoult who discuss the film, Tom Ford and being British in LA.

ON A SINGLE MAN

Nicholas Hoult: The only time I saw Matthew was when we were getting our spray tans.

Matthew Goode: Which were more regular than we were expecting.  I got on a plane with Colin [Firth] and then literally the moment we arrived, got in the car together, went to the hotel and suddenly – it’s like ten thirty at night – we have to go to Colin’s room where we’re having our spray tans .  Colin Firth is in his pants, I’m in my pants and it stays that way for an hour whilst we wait for this stuff to set.  He’s fucking great.  I love Colin.

We [Nic’ and he] never had a scene together but we were there the whole time.  I was only really fitting in around these guys.  Nic had a damn sight more to do than I did.

NH: No I just did more.

MG: [Laughs] It was a really fun shoot. I mean, maybe I’m looking back with rose tinted spectacles, but …

NH: It was a good fun shoot. Everyone enjoyed it.  I remember the night in Venice after seeing it in front of all those people and just lying in bed thinking ‘that’s something I’m proud of’.

MG: It’s seriously impressive. You watch it and you care and, it doesn’t happen to me a lot, but I watched it and thought ‘I’m in something that doesn’t stink!’.  I’m proud of that.

NH:  That’s a nice feeling when you’ve done something and you can say ‘yeah, proud of that’.

MG:  Fucking hell – sorry to interrupt – but I was reading a magazine or a paper or something the other day and it said “A Single Man obviously being screened and whenever Nic Hoult was on screen there were gasps over his beauty” [laughs]. And I was thinking, fucking Hoult is going to LA and get so laid! [Laughs]. He is going to be turning bush away left right and centre!

NH:  It’s all down to the fake tan again.  That’s where the performance stems for me.

MG:  That is a review!

NH:  Nothing about the acting, right?

MG:  They didn’t review the film.  It just said “I saw it.  I’m going to be reviewing it at some point, but let me tell you there were gasps over Nick Hoult’s beauty!”

ON TOM FORD

MG:  Tom is immediately interesting. If it’s all about someone’s cannon of work then most of the time you wouldn’t work with a first ime director, but if the script is good and you have a chat with them and they know which end is up and which is down, then great.

NH: I didn’t know who Tom was when I met him.

MG: Nick “fashion forward” Hoult!

NH:  I’d gone over to LA got off a plane and had dinner with him.  And I asked him how he’d got into directing and why he was doing this!

MG:  I love that.  Isn’t that great?  And that’s also like Tom.  He’s not the sort of person who is like, ‘well fuck you!’.

NH: He explained very humbly what he had done and I thought OK.  And then I looked him up after dinner and was ‘oh jesus!  He’s actually accomplished quite a lot’ so probably quite a stupid question, but he was very honest and modest and made a great director.

MG: It’s so good.  And so good for Colin.  And Julianne [Moore] is bloody great in it as well.  But the real star of it, it has to be said, is Tom. It silences immediately the people who were going ‘you self indulgent cunt.’  It’s like two massive fingers up to them as it is very, very accomplished.

NH:  It’s very personal to him as well.

MG:  Hugely personal as the main story sort of mirror images the relationship between him and Richard.  There’s a similar age gap.

NH:  He would always say my character is him when he was 18.  He’s connected to every character and he knows them.

MG:  And he wrote the screenplay and it’s starkly different from the book.

NH:  Matthew’s read the book, so –

MG:  That’s right!  I have. It is different.  I am always about the script, really.  But one of the really nice things about being involved is that it is a love poem to Tom’s partner, Richard.

NH:  Tom is very good in the sense that he is an actor’s director and knows what he wants you to do but is very giving to let you go off and explore things and try stuff out.  And you don’t feel too much pressure of failure.

MG:  That’s very true.

NH: ‘Cause the second you’re on set – especially when there’s only 20 days to shoot – to not feel the pressure, that’s a good atmosphere he created.  Something his assistant was saying the other day was that he’s very good at holding his hands up and would admit when he wasn’t sure what he was doing and kept everyone on side and made it a really great team effort.

MG:   I love it when someone’s like that.  It’s so far away from self indulgent as well when someone’s shooting into the 19th hour of the day and the ship isn’t sinking, but there’s a leak and it’s far better to say we do have a leak and I’m trying to sort it out rather than leaning on one side and saying everything is fine.  He is fucking great.

ON COLIN FIRTH

MG:  Colin was great.  I knew he was going to be good.  The moment I read the script, I was like, ‘this is something you haven’t done in a long time’ – just something he could really get his teeth into.   He’s such a subtle actor and it’s been a long time since I can remember him having something that central and serious.

NH:  It was a great moment when we went to the Venice Film Festival and got the message Colin was winning the best actor award.

MG:  I know.  The previous evening we had sat there and we knew it had gone down well because there was a NINE minute standing ovation.  And particularly when you’re not in the film as much as I am, then I feel like a fucking charlatan.  I stood there and am looking down and smiling and embarrassed.  Colin’s quite emotional and I tell you what – four minutes of a standing ovation gets a bit uncomfortable, but NINE?  ‘OK, Colin… fucking move. Let’s go. Let’s leave.’ And he couldn’t tell us that he had won and so he was being shy about it.

NH:  Yeah, he kept it very quiet.

MG:  The moment we found out and we were on the boat we were like ‘What the fuck?  You’ve won and you didn’t tell us!?  And he was like ‘ I know, I didn’t wanna.’  He was humble.

NH:  It was great.  It was a bit of an odd first day like you had in the sense that I had to strip off in front of Colin on my first day.  It sounds a bit seedy when I say ‘strip off in front of him’.

MG:  It does!

NH:  It’s part of the film, I swear!  And it’s handled a lot more tastefully that that might seem, but yeah it was a bit of an odd first day.

MG:  Everyone is going to say ‘oh it’s a gay movie’ which we then counteract with ‘no it’s not, it’s a film about love.’  But there is nudity and a bit of man kissing.  Frankly Colin kisses like a nymphomaniac on death row, but it was a real pleasure!

NH:  He’s got a lot of love!

ON JULIANNE MOORE

MG:  She’s a fucking hero.  She’s lovely. I didn’t have any scenes with her. I mean I’m only in flashback, so all my stuff was with Colin.

NH:  All my stuff is with Colin as well.   The first time I met Julianne was in Venice.

MG:  Yeah, she was probably in the middle of juggling six projects or something, you know, she never stops working.  She came in and shot two scenes, which were about 20 odd minutes of the film, and they did that in two evenings so she was in and out.  I never got a chance to meet her until I was at some party in LA and she is just fantastic.  And she’s married to a guy called Bart Freadlich who is a director in his own right.

NH:  He’s a hero.

MG:  He is actually fabulous!  My girlfriend spent the whole evening calling him Bert instead of Bart and he was like ‘you know, actually I prefer Bert!  Don’t worry about it’.  He’s lovely. They could throw their weight around, but they are actually family people and live in New York – they’re kind of anti Hollywood.

ON THE LIFE OF AN ACTOR

MG: There are a lot of Brits and Aussies at the moment who are working.  I don’t know what that means.  But we never think of ourselves.  When you get off the plane and you’re in America they ask ‘what’s the best thing about being a movie star?’ I am a jobbing actor, they have no idea! They make it sound like I get 500 scripts and am sitting there going through them all. If something comes up and they are stupid enough to give it to us or you love the script and audition but someone of a huge stature can come in and take it like Brad Pitt. Or Judi [Dench] – we’ve been up against each other a couple of times.

NH: I’ve never lost out to Judi yet.

MG: Only in a drinking contest! The vicious alcoholic that she is!

NH: Sam Worthington was telling me when he was in LA someone asked him why there were so many Aussies over there doing so well and his response was that it’s an awful long way to go to fail and not give it your best shot, basically.

MG: Oh. I was expecting some sort of knob gag in there, but yeah.

NH: It’s very true. I just got back from LA and every TV series has an English guy in the lead. Joseph Fiennes, Matthew Reece [RHYS]

MG: We’re good. We’re quite good…

N H: I can’t say it’s the training, because I don’t have any.

MG: You’re doing well! You make people gasp! You complete cunt. I hate that!

NH: You’re coming across very eloquent.

MG: That’s very nice of you.  OK, who used to live with Ewan McGregor and Jude Law and he has a TV show? You’re right about that. Though it makes it sound like ‘Oh you’re English.  Have a TV show’.  I’m sure they all have about ten auditions.

NH: I had an interesting day recently when I was at a BBQ and Jimmy Page and Roger Daltrey were there.

MG: Wow!

NH: I sat there and was very quiet because I thought if I speak to them I’ll make a fool of myself so it’s best to keep out of the way and then they can’t have any bad thoughts although they probably didn’t know I was there.  But I knew they were there so it was a good BBQ for me.

MG: I’d love to learn guitar. It’s one of those things I’d love to do. Though it’s not like I don’t have the time…

NH: [Laughs]

MG: I’d like to know all the chords.

NH: It’s difficult to get the fingering right… That’s what she said.

MG: And back to Dame Judi!

NH: [Laughs]

MG: It depends if you have a high action or a low action in terms of the strings.  It hurts. You’ve got to build up the calluses. If you get a low action one that would be easier.

NH:  Are we still talking about women?

MG:  Yes! [Laughs] I remember Billy Crudup got the part in Almost Famous and he had lessons with Peter Frampton but had to have lessons on the side because Peter was like ‘you are fucking terrible’. But that’s one of the nice accidents of the job is you can get training in things. And random travel.

NH: I got to do archery.

MG: You did! That was The Weatherman!

NH: No, for Clash of the Titans. I didn’t use it once.

MG: Oh yes, it was the daughter in The Weatherman.

NH: Yeah man, keep up.

MG: Sorry mate. That’s how pretty you are. I confused you with the female lead.

NH: He’s seen all my work.

MG: I have! I’ve got to learn how to do it. You are a master.  I did a Spanish film and it was all in Spanish [!] – I learnt it phonetically. Jesus, that’s my only skill.  The major skill I picked up is I can pay my rent. The older you get the more you realize there are a lot of people who hate their jobs.  I’m so glad I’m not – ha!  Famous last words! – it does seem to be going OK for now.  But bringing it back to what do you like about acting – to be honest, everything.

ON BRITISH TALENT

MG:  I think there is an element that we’re just so happy to work.  Certainly as for getting into film it was such an accident because I hadn’t worked in front of a camera.  For a while it was like what is the secret code to working on screen?  I have no idea what it is… but even ten films in I’m still sitting here renting and not owning a house.  I think that keeps you grounded.  As opposed to some American actors who are on a hundred thousand dollars doing some TV.

NH:  You don’t get comfortable so you feel you’ve got to keep on striving.

MG: I think we’re overrated. [Laughs].  There is an element over there if you walk into a room of Americans that they’re suddenly like ‘oh fuck they’re British and we’re steeped in tradition.

NH:  It’s odd that Tom got so many English actors for the film – we’re both playing American.

MG:  And Julianne is playing English.

NH:  it’s good he trusts in us to pull of the American accents.

MG:  Yeah, I mean – idiot!  In fairness you’ve done it before and I have done it a couple of times.  But it is odd.   If you think who he probably could have had –

NH:  He probably could have done better than us!

MG:  I’m sure he could have convinced someone with a much higher stature.  I think it was just we were willing to work for free, effectively.  And that’s also what makes Britain great.  We want to work and we want to please the director and often at times, yes we might have strong thoughts on character and script, but we turn up and are like, this is your vision and you are the director and we know where we fit in. Certainly the Brits, I find, we want to be told what to do or how it’s going to work rather than, ‘I’m the fucking star!’ I tend to find we leave our ego at the door. We tend not to pussyfoot around. We all like a drink. We’re steeped in that tradition as well. There’s a certain forbidden thing in America if you drink you’re an alcoholic. No I’m not, and I generally wait until at least half past one.

NH: On weekends. Weekdays, 11.

MG: There is a reason pubs are opened at 11 and it’s because you are allowed to start drinking at that time. Otherwise, they wouldn’t do it! Christ, can you remember back to when – you might not remember, actually. I gasp at your beauty as I try to remember!

NH:[laughs] I’m never going to live this down!

MG:Do you remember when pubs shut on Sundays at, like, 1 for two or three hours? Maybe I’m showing my age now. That is fucking madness. There would be a riot now.

NH:  So basically, we haven’t found a conclusion to what makes Britain great…  You’re a big X Factor fan though, aren’t you?

MG:  My girlfriend loves it.  She’s got me into it.  I mean it’s fucking hilarious.  You literally sit there and you don’t know any of these people but the music comes up and they get selected and you can be in tears and so happy that these people have been selected for the live shows.  I really like the over 25’s this year.  They’re fucking great.

NH:  Matthew Goode on The X Factor!

MG:  ‘He’s very much into the over 25s and what is funny is they are all male’.  But it is great.  But then it’s such a machine.  There is such a turn around.  Sometimes the winner gets completely forgotten and they have no career and then, obviously, sometimes they go shooting up.  But it is great telly!  Saturday night, a couple of beers and The X Factor.

[Pics - My edit of Ben Rayner photos/scan by Natalie Fairchild.]