#it's the middle hoop - i've had the others for a long time!

[inevitablestars]

can we see your piercing?

yes you can ☝🏻 (putting it under the cut in case anyone wouldn't want to see)

[apparentlytheproblem]

Theodore nott x Gryffindor fem! Reader fluff and soft smut she’s reading in his lap while he’s leaning against the bedpost reading with her holding the book and Turing the pages while she keeps reading it and it’s super smutty (maybe the actors spin-off book abt nesta and cassian-) and she just traces his arm veins while they read (and if you decide to make it smutty pls make the reader LOVE LOVE LOVE his hands, abs, arm viens-)

a l l u r i n g

fandom- Harry Potter

pairing(s)- theodore nott

a/n: hullo, I have my midterm math exam on Monday so its all rushed and i barely have time to post but this has me screaming and crying all at once. i could not find any hardcore smut from a court of silver flames , I couldn't find any hardcore smut from court of silver flames, I'm so sorry abt that. the scene you're reading out loud is written by none other than @lustingbones, featuring Dick Grayson. I've written her fanfic in cursive so as to not get confused. she has single handedly created an obsession for nightwing in me. here's the link to the inspiration :) requests are forever open, luv, teddy

requested- yes

warnings- mf this is an advanced apology, i've never written smut. i've never even held someone's hand romantically, hell, i can't even keep eye contact, soft smut, fluffy, vulgar language, they both are minors, no protection is mentioned, it might make you uncomfortable, the reading of smut, the writing of smut

The sleeves of your black satin shirt had already fallen down your arms, the shirt itself was only being held up by two thin chains over your shoulder. it was basically as good as transparent, there wasn't a thing you couldn't see through it.

Theodore had leaned himself on his bedpost, his shirt was long gone. You were reading to him, your legs were on either side of his hips, your ass was cupped by his hand as he found utter joy in this situation. Your breasts were Infront of his face as he struggled not to get hard under you so quickly. Theo was never this grateful for being taller than you, he could just look down at you and get a perfect view. he wanted nothing more than to hold them in his hands and squeeze it or just rip the shirt off at this point.

"He moaned softly at the squelch of your cunt swallowing him, a creamy white ring surrounding the base of his cock every moment he pulled out."

your flingers grazed the hoops of his trousers, hooking them absentmindedly. sometimes they paused and was placed next to his hips.

“D-Dick, p-please baby-” a hitch in your voice. you could feel your pussy, but more than that, you could feel a lump in his pants.

"its so attractive when you say baby like that, but when i fuck you, its gonna be theo" he mumbled by leaning closer to your ear.

all you could do is nod as he signaled for you to continue.

“Gotta breed you baby.. Show all these fuckers that you’re mine and get you pregnant. You’d like that huh? All full with my baby, my cum deep inside this needy lil’ pussy, hm? You want that princess?” You felt him smirk against your skin as he never faltered, his cock reaching so deep inside you–fuck this man would be the end of you."

Theo's eyes were fixated on you. the way your voice was wavering, the way you squeezed your thighs, how a blush crept to your face. he loved how you got so shy with the pregnancy kink. it made him wonder if she had one herself.

"you're into that? why read about it when i can give you the full experience in 6D?"

you tried to waver him off, this was the last thing you needed in this situation

" "All I do is treat you so fuckin’ well, don’t I?” Dick mumbled as his fingers started to toy with your clit, his middle finger rubbing the sensitive nub in circles as he continued his brutal pace on your weeping cunt. “F-fuck..” he whined as he pulled away for a moment to look down at where the two of you were connected, his cum from earlier rounds already starting to pool onto the bedsheets and trailing down your thighs. “S’good to me, ya know that? Such a good girl..” Fuck it was starting to become too much for him, but it felt so fucking good.."

you could feel your own pussy throbbing. If you were being honest to yourself, you were thinking about you and Theodore. your head keeps going to the idea of him saying this to you, doing this to you and feeling him so hard just got you more turned on.

“G-Gonna come, Dee–fuck!” you whimpered as you fell back into the sheets with your face squished against the pillows, gripping the blanket into your hands tightly."

your palm grazed his veiny arms, has he been working out? they've gotten so big..

“F-fuckin’ come baby, come all over this cock..” He coos through clenched teeth, his nails lightly digging into your plush skin as his thrusts sped up."

from palms to fingernails, they slowly trail up his forearm and roamed around his chest.

"Whiney breaths leave your throat as your climax starts building, before the coil in your tummy finally snaps, your juices gushing around him as he let out a whine and threw his head back."

you find yourself adjusting to place your pussy right above his cock. you could see his face trying to not to show any signs of satisfaction. that was all you needed.

“C-Come inside me, Dick–please!” you squeal with your face squished into the pillow to muffle your needy whines as his cock twitched inside you." 

all he could concentrate about is trying not to break character. his eyes fixated on the elegant curve of your back beneath the clear fabric. her rough voice ran through his head in circles. he lifted an arm from his side, letting it play with the bottom buttons, almost only leaving one left. The only thing covering you up.

“I know baby, I know–fuckk!” he groaned as you felt him release inside you, thick ropes of his cum painting your walls a creamy white, giving a few shallow thrusts before stilling inside you, pants and heavy breathing leaving both of your lips as you sat in silence."

you ran your arms down his abs, he loved your not so secret fixation you had for them. but you loved it more.

"You whine as you try to crawl away from his needy hands before he grabs you by the waist and pulls you back to flip you onto your back, a few pieces of his hair stuck to his forehead as he looks down at you with a grin painting his plush lips. Gosh it’s like he was trying to kill you."

“Said ya’ wanted to help me..” he cooed as he leant down with his lips ghosting over yours. "

“So, help me..”

Theodore was done. He gently picked the book from your hand and placed it on his nightstand. both his hands went under your thighs as to place you on the bed so he could tower over you, his chain dangling Infront of your eyes.

"hi handsome" you said peering up to him. you pulled his arm to examine it. his veins looked so hot, just absolutley lovley to have around you.

"hey beautiful"

you take his hand, a quiet smile made way too your face as you rest it on your breasts

Theodore felt your hands as it unzipped his trousers leaving him in boxers. your hand slid up and down his dick in slow strokes, just to drive him mad.

he takes her into my arms still kneeling, hitching your leg around his torso before pulling you as close as possible. The kisses you shared were soft, unbothered needy but never rushed.

[summer-nights19]

You don't know me part 2

Daiki Aomine x fem reader

As you looked at Aomine, you couldn't help but notice how much he'd changed in the last years. He was considerably taller and more well built, but his face had also changed, matured. It was enough to trigger a rush of long forgotten and unwelcome feelings from deep inside you.

"Daiki... congratulations on winning," you said, offering him a small smile. He shrugged his shoulders like it was nothing, which, to him it probably was.

"The more I play, the more boring basketball becomes. There are no rivals even close to my level,"

For some reason, listening to that felt like being stabbed in the gut. You took a deep breath and averted your gaze, directing it down your useless arms.

"At least you can still play,"

You'd said it more to yourself than to him, but, judging from the flash of regret on his face, he'd still heard you. He opened his mouth, but you beat him to it.

"Sorry Dai, that was uncalled for. Anyway, how have you been ? It's really been ages," you forced a smile, hoping he'd play along

"I've been bored, and school's been a pain in the ass. What about you ?"

"Not too bad. I'm in the literature club now," you said as you started to walk in the direction of the bus stop. Aomine followed you as if, after three years, it was still the most natural thing in the world.

"The literature club, huh ? You always were a nerd," he teased with a smirk. You simply elbowed him in the ribs.

"Ow- that hurt, asshole," he said, shooting you a glare. You carried on teasing each other and laughing until you reached the bus stop.

"Well, I guess I'll see you around then," you said, smiling as you got on the bus

Something like disappointment flashed on Aomine's features, so quickly you thought you'd imagined it.

"See you around,"

You felt giddy as you walked onto the bus and sat down. Your heart was racing pleasantly, and your cheeks were warm. Seeing Aomine again had awoken feelings within you that you weren't ready to name.

It would be too messy, too painful.

The more you sat there on your own and remembered, the more the fluttering in your stomach faded to a dull ache.

No. The past must stay in the past.

(3 years prior)

That day had been an ordinary day in every regard. It was the semifinals match of the last season of your middle school career. The boys' season had finished two weeks prior, and, as usual, they'd gotten the bigger, better stadiums and a lot more attention from the press. While you tried not to let it bother you too much, you'd still mentioned it to your friends a few days prior.

"Well, of course. Men's sport is significantly more profitable than women's, so it is only logical that most of the resources would go into it," Midorima had replied once you'd finished ranting.

"I don't care. It's still bullshit that women who work just as hard only reap half the reward," you'd stated, glaring at him defiantly.

"Y/N, instead of wasting time talking with this nerd, why don't you come play me ? The winner is the one who deserves the bigger stadium,"

You felt the corners of your lips rise at Daiki's challenge. Without hesitation, you followed him to the court outside, where you spent the next few hours.

That evening was the closest you'd ever come to beating him.

You were thinking of that moment as you got on the court with your four best teammates. As you lined up with them, you promised yourself that you'd play so well that people would be forced to acknowledge women's sports as more than just a footnote.

It had happened during the last quarter. You'd had the other team beaten by 70 or so points, so there was no turning it around for them. However, you refused to relax. You'd play a memorable game from start to finish - this was what you decided as you jumped to dunk the ball into the hoop. Just as you were reaching the peak of your jump, you felt a sharp push from behind you. To this day, you had no idea if it had been deliberate or not.

You fell, landing right on your bent arms and breaking them both. The last thing you felt was a sharp pain from within before you passed out.

When you'd woken up again, you were in a hospital bed. Both of your arms were bandaged, and your head felt fuzzy. You felt something warm on your face and looked up to see Aomine in a chair next to your bed, his hand cupping your cheek. As soon as he realised you were awake, he withdrew it quickly.

"How are you feeling ?" He asked, after a moment of silence

"Dai ? What happened ?"

"You wrecked your arms pretty badly yesterday on the court. They suspended the match, and you were taken to hospital,"

You moved to sit up and felt a sharp jolt run through your arm. You winced, slowly remembering the events of the day before.

"Don't move. If you need something just-"

Before Aomine could finish talking, a doctor came in and smiled at you. It was a sad, almost pitiful smile.

"L/N ? I heard you were awake from outside the door. There are a few things you should know. Before that, though, I must ask your friend to leave,"

"I won't do that," Aomine replied before you could, glaring at the doctor.

"It's ok sir, he's my best friend," you said in a small voice. The doctor frowned.

"Sorry, it's hospital policy. It'll be quick." Aomine sighed and walked out of the door, shooting the doctor one last glare.

"Miss L/N... I'll be blunt with you. Your arms will heal for the most part. There shouldn't be any long-term effects on your daily life. However, to avoid causing permanent damage, you won't be able to play basketball again,"

You stared at the doctor and blinked, unsure if you'd heard correctly. The grave expression on his face confirmed it. In the blinked of an eye, the numbness you'd felt was replaced with a piercing stab through the heart as you fought to hold back tears.

"Doctor, you can't - it's my passion -"

"I'm sorry, Miss L/N. But we just can't risk it unless you want to damage your eyes for good. I appreciate it's hard for you to hear this, so I'll give you a moment."

As the doctor stepped outside, the dam finally broke and you let the tears flow freely. Your career. Your team. Your friends. Everything you'd worked so hard to build was crumbling before your eyes, and you were completely helpless.

When Aomine finally returned, he didn't ask any questions. He just hugged you yo himself and let you cry on his shoulder until visiting hours finished.

Masterlist

[blinkpen]

wait do Colin and Zoe have to get their dumb ass mech parts body augments bolted back onto them everytime they respawn

As a general rule, no, they don't! Although for Zoetrope, it's a little more complicated. More on that in a bit.

Setting up how to explain this got a little long so I've put it, along with some more accompanying drawings/doodles, under a cut! But first, a fancy Lamarr (this is actually 100% relevant)

Respawn is used primarily to reconstruct living (or rather, once-living) matter; it actually takes more effort on Necrin's part to reconstruct inanimate things and objects, including clothing and personal affects. Once you have a sort of 'default' look about you, that's how you will respawn, and respawning that outfit's "free" as it were.

Now, even if they are constantly kept on your person, there are some things you have to jump through some hoops to ensure they respawn with you such as magical items or exceptionally unique pieces of tech. This is to prevent dangerous or valuable objects from being wrecklessly duplicated. In the event there is a respawn-induced duplication of a magical item, let's say a magical necklace, for example, one is instantly rendered a dud in terms of its magical properties. You can only guarantee the dud will be the one left behind on your corpse and the one on your respawned body has all its intended properties if you jump through the aforementioned hoops. If you don't, you better haul ass to where your body dropped and hope it hasn't been scavenged or disposed of with your corpse yet.

(On the topic of scavenging, the fact you never know if someone's magical item is 'attached' to them and that's now a dud or still the real deal if they bite it has its own bundle of consequences and plays a big role in the black market of the world. Respawn-induced duds that are then enchanted to briefly fool potential buyers are rampant)

You can 'update' your 'default' look, but doing this costs a not insignificant amount of money, on top of the money you already had to spend to just physically acquire/purchase the clothes in the first place. The only people who can gussy themselves up, and then not constantly be on edge about the risk of losing all that effort, or even the clothing itself, are people who have the kind of money and connections for Necrin to be regularly up to date on what fit to respawn them in every time they change clothes.

Your only other alternative really is to be enough of a badass you can dodge all danger and make it to whatever situation your special outfit is for without dying or the outfit itself taking any damage. But even badasses get unlucky.

Yeah, so I accidentally made an in-universe reason why the cartoon characters tend to wear the same clothes all the time except when it's particularly relevant to the story at hand, but I actually hadn't planned on it serving that purpose… Weird coiny dink.

I used a date as an example here, but in the nature of the beast/the themes of the work, you might imagine, hey, this could effect all kinds of things, like appointments, jobs where you have to wear a uniform or special gear, job interviews, etc, and it does, and that's explored i the story (as is the fact status can affect respawn speed as well, only further exacerbating the issue)

Now back to Collin and Zoetrope specifically, the entire original point of this ask, whoopsie doodle!

Collin sometimes likes to have his 'default' be cyborg arms, and sometimes he doesn't, so he updates it accordingly. He doesn't need to re-do the entire surgical process when he does this; he implanted a sort of 'middle man' cybornetic that the arms can be attached or detached from, which takes some time and precision from someone other than himself, but is obviously much less of an ordeal than putting ALL that tech back in. The 'middle man' cybernetics are there regardless, and sometimes he will pop the arms on and off without updating because of how minimal an inconvenience it is with how rarely he actually dies.

Now for Zoe, the control nodes/parts of the wheel directly attached to him/his body will respawn with him when he does, but the wheel itself, and its free floating node, will not. This is because the wheel was a personal affect (or potentially a body part, given the alien nature of the being) scavenged from an Agent monster, which, unlike lifeforms native to the core, do not respawn when slain/destroyed,. While the wheel is nigh-indestructible and can survive situations Zoe himself wouldn't, it has to be physically retrieved in the event Zoe is temporarily slain, or he's royally boned until they get it back.

yeah this is what i was talking about earlier i'm really mad how this pre-peeled zoe came out i keep playing with fire

[xxstraymoonchildxx]

This Couple is Unusual

Prologue / Next

Chapter 1: This Couple, negotiating

cw: none

As Charles Dickens once put it: “It was the best of times, it was the worst of times”.

The both of you sat in a horse carriage, cars being still not too common around that day, and looked outside the busy street.

England in the nineteenth century was a sight to behold. In awe you watched the people walking down the streets, clad in Victorian fashion - the men in suits, top hats (hopefully without mercury), and walking canes; women in long modest dresses with hoop skirts or bustles underneath giving a distinct shape and various little hats on skillfully made hair. You fit in perfectly with the clothes Asmodeus provided you with. Satan was dressed to the nines, the striped pine green waistcoat over the pristine white, high-collared shirt hugged his muscular frame nicely; the dark coat he wore fluttered slightly behind him when he walked (he couldn’t help himself and only wore one sleeve, the other draped over his shoulder casually). The ascot around his neck matched his black pants and shiny dress shoes. You matched him well - the bodice underneath the dress - white with pine green stripes - emphasized your waist but wasn’t too tight; the long-sleeved waistcoat had frills in the front that opened under the bust like a curtain and ended in your back with a large bow. Around your neck was a necklace with a cat pendant Satan gifted you for your last birthday. 

All that being said sadly didn't distract you from the fact that it smelled so bad. 

Occasionally little boys ran onto the bumpy roads, scooping up what the horses left behind. (You hoped none of those children would get themselves hurt or worse.) Not only that, the industrial smoke carried over from the factories, and people still threw things into the Thames that didn’t belong there (mainly human and industrial waste, and unsurprisingly the occasional corpse)

“I am grateful we didn’t visit London during the summer of 1858,” Satan stated after he saw you wrinkle your nose in displeasure ”I've read about it recently, it was labeled the Great Stink. There were various artists depicting their idea of a shinigami riding along the Thames during that time.”

“Guess it was easier to drop everything into the river. I can’t believe the working class had to bathe in that polluted water, like, eww. Bet Barbatos would've gotten a heart attack from those rats running around if he was with us.” 

Satan hummed in response, looking back outside the window.

You passed the central street that had various shops aligned next to each other.  Somewhere had to be one of the subsidiaries of the sorcerer's society where you would meet one of your teacher’s acquaintances, Viscount Laurent Cavendish who was responsible for the finances there. He was the son of a vineyard owner who made business with high society and offered wine tastings, perfect for making strong connections.

Satan helped you out of the carriage, the strong grip he had on your waist made your cheeks turn pink. The coachman handed you your luggage and wished you a nice day. 

The subsidiary looked like every other building in the business area, disguised as a bank (and also functioning like one for cover). You went inside, walking to the front desk of the entrance hall. An elderly gentleman sat behind the oak table.

“Good afternoon, how may I help you?” he asked politely. You took out the letter from Solomon stored inside your bag, handing it over while introducing Satan and yourself. The man’s eyes widened, looking at the demon in surprise, then back to you. “We need to speak to Viscount Cavendish as soon as possible.” He nodded and made a quick phone call with a hushed voice. Not even a minute later you were escorted to Cavendish’s office.

You expected Laurent Cavendish to be a middle-aged man but you were mildly surprised to have someone sitting in an office chair who can’t be older than thirty. Auburn hair framed his oval in a style that reminded you of Mephistopheles and dark blue eyes looked up from his paperwork to eye you thoroughly. Come to think of it, the way he looks at you, judgingly, reminds you a bit too much of the aristocrat demon. He signed you to take the two seats in front of his desk.

“I’ve never expected this shady man to get himself an apprentice. Say, is his cooking still as horrendous?”

“Unfortunately, yes.”

“Nearly killed me once.”

Cavendish sent you a crooked smile, just for a split second, before leaning back in his armchair, folding his slender hands. Back to business. “So, what brings you here? I assume you aren’t interested in opening a bank account.”

“We are interested in the Whitechapel Murders. We plan on acting as reporters from a foreign country. Unfortunately, we don’t have the proper connections in the Londoner scene,” Satan answered and you continued “But my teacher recommended you, Viscount, saying you’re a powerful man in the Sorcerer’s Society and Londoner Underworld”

You hoped to tickle his ego to the best of your abilities. To drive it home, you opened your suitcase - enchanted so you can put as much as you want in it like in the RPGs Leviathan often plays with you; basically unlimited inventory space - and brought out a gift box, addressed towards the man in front of you and put it on his desk. “We can pay you for your troubles, of course”

Curiously Cavendish opened the present, hummed with a twinkle in his eyes, and closed it again. 

“Very well. The murders are all over the newspapers but Scotland Yard is, unsurprisingly, still clueless. Our Society isn’t interested in the case per se, but of course, we are up to date about everything even if we don’t involve ourselves in such … events. The victims are brought to the funeral parlor Undertaker; the owner is involved with the underworld as well and is a reliable informant, despite his unique personality. I’m also acquaintances with one of the Yard’s chief staff, Sir Redcliff. Although I’d advise you strictly to be discrete with any valuable information.”

Satan looked at you and nodded. Cavendish took a sip of his tea after this long monologue. “I’ll provide you with the necessities and wish you all the best. Please wait in the entrance hall. My secretary will bring it to you once I am finished.”

After shaking hands with him, or rather with Satan, you were escorted outside. But not without his calling something out to you right before the door closes:

“Beware the Queens Watchdog, Earl Phantomhive!”

“Well, that went smoothly,” Satan said, guiding you inside the called carriage. The Viscount supplied you with a hotel reservation as well as various objects for bribing purposes - like a bottle of expensive wine for the Yard and credentials. “He must be quiet in debt with Solomon to go for such length. I wonder what was in the present you gave him” You thought about it for a moment “Eh, I guess some rare ingredients or magical items. I didn’t look inside.” The blond demon let out a laugh “I am surprised, by how noisy you usually are”

“Hey!”

Half an hour later, you arrived at the hotel. It was nothing too fancy from the outside, a two-star equivalent from your own time maybe? You stood before the entrance door when you suddenly heard a gentle meowing noise. 

Satan was quick as always, crouching down to pet the little creature in front of him “Are you all alone?” he cooed, petting the few-month-old kitten. In the blink of an eye, not two, but three and four emerged around the corner. You watched it with a grin. 

//What magnificent creatures. What an adorable little family~// Blushing, he played with the litter of cats. He didn’t hear the sound of protest from around the corner.

It wasn’t until another set of hands appeared in his line of sight. He looked up, staring into a pair of reddish-brown eyes. 

Bonus:

Earlier that day:  Y/N: Okay, we should change into more time period-appropriate clothes *takes off top* Satan: HOLD U-!

__________________________________________________

Finally done it. Had like no time to write last week thanks to being short-staffed.I might edit something in case I notice spelling mistakes. I usually use Grammarly but it doesn't catch everything.

[tdjustess]

Rating all Trent ships I've ever came across

Trent×Gwen - The only canon ship and for what it was, I liked it. It always felt like just a summer fling and them being each others manic pixie dream girl/boy is a detail I highly appreciate. It was the most artsy teen romance of all TD ships and should stay as only that 7.5/10 cause it does make me cringe nowadays

Trent×Justin - I don't know who was the first person to come up with this ship but holy shit their brain. And even if you're too good to fall for the trope of "two guys amicably standing next to each other", these two would be the Larry of the TDverse, which you have to at least admit it's funny as shit 10/10

Trent×Duncan - Listen. I've also been a 15 year old girl, I get it, but this is shit. They either forget about each others existence or actively hate each other. Even the fanfics I used to read back then had to jump through hoops or make them ooc to even get them to stay amicably in the same room 0/10

Trent×Geoff - The better version of Duntrent. They still ignore/hate eachother but there's literally no reason for it which is so funny. They're both pieces of shit and the only time it was justified was when Geoff was trying to protect Gwen over the breakup. Read the TDA bios, they're still trying to poke at some rivalry we never see on screen. AU writers I beg of you, write a enemys-to-enemys fic of their fighting backstage 3/10

Trent×Cody - Oh boy. Oooooh boy. I hate to play this card but they're brothers. Maybe if it's one sided like Cody having a crush for 2 weeks tops but yeah. Brothers energy 0/10

Trent×Courtney - Listen. Don't look at me like that and listen. It's two possibly unmedicated mentaly ill upper middle kids with dreams of success in performing arts that go about it in two extremely different ways. Like. I want to keep this short but they'd be so bad for each other while being the only ones who can understand the others devotion, they'd destroy each other. I'm tearing a phonebook in half with my teeth, shout out to the Ballet AU i'll never write 6/10 realistically but 9.9999998/10 in my heart

Trent×Leshawna - I was really surprised when I first saw this ship cause I'd only ever seen them as sort of "friends-in-law"? But now that I sit down and think of it, it could work?? Leshawna is assertive but also laid back, kind and has a lot of goofy moments. And Trent is a certified wife guy™. I'd never thought of this ship myself but it could work 9.4/10

Trent×Noah - Once again, would have never thought of this if I hadn't read one of the best ship-centered fanfics this fandom has to offer. But I think it works better in that specific fanfic than realistically speaking. Trent isn't the exact type of pathetic (positive) Noah hangs out with and in the long run they'd both be too messy. If Gwent is the cuter side of teen romance, Trent×Noah would be the depressing side. I never watched the show, but from what I remember from "2015 grunge tumblr", it's giving Skins vibes 4.8/10

Trent×Anne Maria - I appreciate the mediterranean representation but no 1/10

Trent×Scott - How. Why. Walk me through this one without making them ooc 0/10

Trent×Zoey - Only in a Doey AU where Duncan keeps throwing dogeballs at Trent in PE everytime he tries to talk with Zoey about british pop 2/10

[greyeyedmonster-18]

never would forget how we moved

sirius x kingsley (starking)

(my submission for @cruelsummer-ficfest, my song was Starlight from the album Red. this song is truly one of my favorites. there's so much lightness and love after an album that is essentially a break-up album. this song to me is about hope for something that can be good in a sea of bla. please enjoy)

He felt seventeen again, the way his heart lept out of his chest, and the electricity surged through his veins as he stared across the garden at a man who commanded so much attention it might as well have been his occasion.

Kingsley wasn't one for ministry gatherings--at least the ones in London, preferring the ones from back home where the music went until the middle of the morning and everyone's smile seemed genuine. The ones here felt so formal. Stifling. Except for the man with the dark curly hair, and a loud laugh, who didn't seem to care about any formalities in the slightest. Kingsley took a sip out of his wine glass--even the wine was bitter--and watch as the man continued to tell a story, women, men, everyone eager to listen in and join in on the joke.

For all Kingsley knew, this man could've been speaking about the economy, inflation of galleons, and market-values, etcetera etcetera and everyone would've been enamoured. It was hard not to be. Kingsley was across the room and was still knocked out by a devil-may-care grin.

There was music playing, the kind that Kingsley listened to while studying all those years ago; "brain music" was said to be stimulating without overpowering to ensure maximum retention or something or the other, thoughts of his study skills falling sideways the closer he got to the man on the other side of the room with tiny gold hoop earrings and tattoos visible down the side of his neck. The people around him didn't even seem to know what they were laughing at anymore, keen to just be in the presence of this man.

I met Bobby on the boardwalk summer of '45...

"Excuse my interruption, I was sitting over there and heard the laughter and had to find out just what I was missing," Kingsley said, extending his hand, "Kingsley Shacklebolt. I don't think we've met."

"Now what makes you say that?" the other man asked, corners of his mouth tilting upward with amusement and silver eyes glimmered in the stars and fairylights above the garden. The crowd that had gathered around him began to disperse--Kingsley had just enough authority to be intimidating, and was just new enough to make everyone uncomfortable.

"I've never met a comedian."

"Ah now, don't tell," he responded, "that's my nighttime gig. By day, I'l just a simple member of the Wizengamot and a junior counselor."

Kingsley tried to keep his face neutral, hiding his surprise at the word junior counselor. Judging by the 5'oclock shadow and the confidence, Kingsley had pegged this man to be in his 30s at the bare minimum. And if that was the case, 30 was a bit...old.

"I see."

The other man let out a single, loud laugh, "Finally an honest reaction. Sirius Black," he dropped Kingsley's hand just as a silver platter of champagne glasses floated by, grabbing two off it with ease. He extended one of them to Kingsley, fingers covered with ornate rings that would've looked atrocious on...anyone else.

"I've heard about you," Kingsley nodded, accepting the glass, "you're giving my colleagues grey hair. I thought you'd be..."

"Better looking? I get that alot."

"Further along...legally," Kingsley cleared his throat around a sip of champagne and Sirius grinned.

"Had a bit of a quarter-life crisis and decided to step into the family business a few years later than most, reclaim my seat, so on and so forth. It's a great story," Sirius said, nodding a long with a wink.

"I'd like to hear it."

"Over dinner, maybe. Too long for drinks."

"Suppose..." Kingsley looked around, the stiff music swelling around them in a glorious crescendo, "Too long for drinks and a dance?"

For the first time since entering the conversation, Sirius looked surprised, eyebrows raising as he surveyed the scene. Telling a joke or two or three...or perhaps just being impossibly charming was one thing; dancing was a whole other.

"This isn't exactly Earth, Wind and Fire."

"All the more reason, I'll be able to hear your story better," Kingsley said with his own playful grin, stepping back toward the dance floor, champagne in hand, his other outstretched to Sirius. "I personally, love, this song. Catchy, isn't it?"

And I said, oh my, what a marvelous tune,

it was the best night never would forget how we moved.

Sirius clapped loudly, standing up at his table and cheering as Kinglsey wrapped up his speech, stepping down from the stage at the center of the room. A band was setting up behind him, the garden magically shifting from a boring ministry event to a party at the conclusion of his speech. Multi-colored fairy lights appeared in the bushes and air, reflecting on the grass. A constellation of rainbow stars everywhere they stepped. By the time Kingsley got to Sirius, he was smiling, two whiskey gingers in hand. The days of champagne and monotonous garden parties had disappeared when Kingsley became Minister of Magic, vowing in the privacy of their home that he would make the culture and climate bearable.

Telling Sirius that good thinkers, good people were too often run out of politics because of the environment and wanting to change it from the ground up.

Don't you see the starlight? Don't you dream impossible things?

"Great speech, very official," Sirius told him, kissing Kingsley quickly on the mouth once he was close enough. "I'm feeling so motivated, I want to ditch this whole thing and go straight to the Ministry to get to work."

Kingsley rolled his eyes, "That's a bit much, don't you think?"

Sirius grinned, dropping his voice and leaning close to Kinglsey's ear "You're right. However, I would ditch this whole thing and go straight to the ministry but only because your office would be completely free of interruptions..."

"Hmm..."

"Or we can get the dance floor started."

"Why not both?"

"At the same time? Minister," Sirius gasped, pressing a hand to his chest, and Kingsley laughed, leaning forward to capture his mouth in a kiss longer than the one Sirius had given him.

Their first dance had been at a party, a ministry party, right when Kingsley had transferred from Nigeria. Their second had been in the halls of Number 12 Grimmauld Place not long after, a record player in the living room playing Nina Simone.

They had lost track of dances they had shared over the years but always remembered to connect at Ministry parties. Always remembered to turn the unremarkable into a spectacle--together.

The whole place was dressed to the nines, and we were dancin'

Like we're made of starlight.

[lovearne]

The Park

Johnny "Soap" McTavish x gn!reader

My page is 18+ only. I don't tolerate minors here, this is my safe place to express myself, and I don't consent to minors viewing my works or my blog.

Content: talks of ptsd, allusions to other mental health issues, grumpy reader, emotionally closed off reader, sunshine soap, service animals

Word count: 1.9k

No use of y/n and no descriptive of reader physically

Most days, all you feel like doing is curling in bed and cuddling with your dog. Today isn't most days, you've had an amazing day at the park with Zero, your comically named bulldog, the both of you sat in the overhanged day, not too hot or cold. He'd get up and play with other dogs and greet people, knocking children over by accident but giving them a big old kiss to make up for it.

Zero had plenty of water kept cool by the shade of the bag you'd brought, also some treats and food in case you stayed there past his feed time. He loved being outside, he was happy outside, and you were happy to see him so happy. He'd been good for your mental health, forcing you to get into a routine to care for the little stinker, but it helped a lot.

The day you got him you hadn't planned on getting a dog, but he was a small puppy left by himself in the middle of nowhere, abandoned. You'd been on a nature walk. Now he was a large lump of huggable, lovable, stinky bulldog.

You didn't much like when people encroached on your alone time, but when you were approached by a little long nose against your neck, you laughed. It was another dog, trying to figure out who you were, the dog moved on to smell Zero, the two happily sniffing each other before sitting down to chew on Zeros favourite toy. The unnamed greyhound and your bulldog quite enjoyed each other's company. You'd decided you would await the pet parent of the greyhound and just let the two play.

You watched both your dog, and the stranger dog, not wanting to miss a sign of agitation from either, you trust Zero, but you know how easily a mood can change, and all you knew about the other pup is that they love playing. The two eventually stopped chewing on the toy, opting instead to lay beside each other, the greyhound taking a drink from Zeros bowl.

When they were calm, you checked the greyhound over, no collar, and no identification. You stroked the animals fur, "it's ok baby, if no one comes before we leave, we'll get you check for a microchip. We'll have you home in no time." You said to the animal, they leaned into your touch, stretching their back. "What a good dog!" You praise as they moved their head to rest on your leg, zeros resting beside your thighs. You kept yourself busy, making sure to give equal attention to the two dogs, you were worried however, when the day progressed and none came looking for the lovely dog. Frowning as you pull your extra leash from your rucksack, you tie gently around the dogs neck, no collar so just softly as to not choke them, clipping Zeros leash to his harness, you went about packing your things, pulling out the on the go water bottle you have for him, clipping it to your belt hoop.

Once everything was packed you brought the two with you, walking down the park and back into the area of which you lived.

"Hey!" You heard, fixing to ignore it, you continued walking. The greyhound had stopped though, turning the other way, and when you looked down, you could see their tail wagging. "Bruce!! There ya are! I've been looking for ya!" A distinct voice called out, the way the dog reacted you knew the voice is their pet parent. You turn to greet the owner, seeing a guy, a little over six foot with a Mohawk.

"This is your dog?" You question, your face set hard with no emotion, the man looked a little shocked.

"Yes?" You sigh.

"Is it a statement or a question? There was no id on this dog. How am I to trust you?" The owner nodded.

"Aye, sorry. I'm Johnny." He says cheery, "and I've been looking for that little bastard all afternoon." They pointed to the dog, who you now know as Bruce. "He got away from me while we were stopped. Always slips his collar." You nod.

"Before j give you the dog, I'm going to request you show me a timestamps picture of him." The stranger, Johnny nods, pulling their phone out to show you. You seen the picture, Bruce was laying with his arms and legs sticking up on his back, happy as a pig in shit. You nod. "Alright, Bruce it was very nice meeting you." You address the canine, patting his head.

You and Johnny split ways, each head to your own houses. You got Zero ready to relax, taking his harness off and giving him a nice brush. "OK baby let's get you fed.

The next day, you were taking Zero for a walk, being colder, you were in a hurry to get the exercise in, walking a bit too briskly. Almost falling over when Zero stopped very abruptly. After gaining your balance you turned and seen the same dog from yesterday.

"Hey Bruce!" You said giving him a pat, not really acknowledging the owner.

The day after you were at the park again, Bruce and Johnny finding the two of you. They sat beside you, Zero moving close to Bruce and initiating the spark of both chewing on a rope toy.

"So," Johnny starts. "What's yours name?" You stare at him. He visibly tenses then relaxes. "You remind me of my coworker. He looks at me like that all the time." Your face softens a little.

"His name is Zero." You mumbled. Uninterest in your voice. Johnny smiles.

"I love tha name." He compliments. "Is there a reason behind it?" You nod. "What's the meaning?"

"Vet gave him a 0% chance of living to the age of one." He nods, face paled a little.

"How old is he now?"

"Three." You smile broadly. Your smile was the brightest he's seen in a while. He huffed and slapped your shoulder.

"There ya go!!" He encourages. Zero was alerted by the hit and sat up, glowering at Johnny.

"Shh, Zero heel. That's it good boy, lie down." You calmed the large dog down, Johnny must admit, he was insanely drawn in by you.

"Smells like it's gonna to rain soon, maybe we should move somewhere inside, yeah?" You nod. "My place is just down the road a little." You followed him.

----

Waking up to the two dogs on your bed, you smile. Zero and Hank, a dog you'd recently rescued, a whippet. The company of your animals is all you'd need. Zero was getting grey these days, his joints starting to give up. You'd purchased what you call your 'Zero wagon' a nice flat and comfortable wagon for him to ride to the park in. He was now an elderly dog, using ramps to get around in your house, and hank enjoyed them too, he had 3 legs and moved slower than he would've been before. His previous owner gave him up when he needed his leg removed.

He rode along in the hank wagon sometimes, sometimes he was happy for the walk down to the park. They both enjoyed the outside greatly, and the neighbourhood kids who loved petting Zero and getting knocked over by him now came and gave him lots of treats as preteens and teenagers.

"OK boys, let's go." You say softly, trying to wake the two sleeping dogs. Poor zero had been going deaf these past few months, you wake him softly by petting his back and putting your hand in front of his snout. When he woke he got up and started to lock your hand, you giggled. "Hey boy!" Hank also woke up, his right front leg pawing at you excitedly, standing on his two back feet. "Hey hank!!" You greet.

After your boys had breakfast, you got them ready to go to the park, putting on Zeros vest that said 'be patient I scare easy'. And Hanks vest that covers his still irritated amputation scar, it's been healed for nearly a year, you'd adopted him when you took Zero to the vet for his annual. The scar still gives him trouble, so it's best to cover the sensitive part up while going to play outside.

By the time you got the boys all ready and in the wagon, it was 9am. The perfect time to go to the park, packing the dogs lunches and a picnic basket, you head down to the park. The boys really love the wagon, the sit and watch through the mesh, or in hanks case, he stands holding the railing if the wagon with his paw watching as you pass people on the busy street, it being a school day there are children milling about waiting for school to start.

You chose a nice shady spot for you and the boys, laying down the large blanket for you and them, placing the multiple dog beds you keep in the wagon on the blanket. Right away, Zero chooses his spot, in a nice comfy bed, and Hank walks around a bit before he laid against Zero. You smile at their close bond, you get out three dog bowls and fill them with some water from the thermos, knowing that you'd be seeing a particular mohawked man in a few minutes.

Your assumption was correct, he approached the blanket full of sweat, with two greyhounds, Bruce being the slowest of the two, and Lassie, the younger, keeping up with him as he jogged over.

Bruce, the rescued racing dog, and retired service dog was older now too, he still tried to be of assistance and service Johnny with his ptsd and anxiety post life changing injury, as you'd learned a few months after meeting the man. He'd now retired from active duty but still worked on the base close to home. Lassie was his new service dog, Bruce retired 2 years ago, and he'd gotten her last year, she was a sweet little girl he is training her himself with the help of Bruce. She was rescued from the racetracks as well.

You had asked him why another greyhound, and he'd just replied that they made him feel like he was doing some good, as they were doing good by helping him. You knew jusy by watching Bruce, he hop in the wagon for the rude home as well. The poor boy looked about to pass out, he'd had a nice jog with his dad.

"Hey babe." Johnny had said after undoing both dogs from their leads, he leans over to give you a kiss.

"Hello husband mine." You joke at him, he smiles big.

"Hello spouse of mine." He giggles with you, "what are we? Sherlock and Watson?" You laugh a bit harder.

"Those two were best friends." He nods.

"I think we are quick little more than that love." He states, leaning to kiss you.

"Ugh, get away fiend! Pda who are ya?" He laughs.

"C'mon love i haven't had a kiss alllllll day." He pleads. "And you love pda." He reminds.

"You smell bad."

"You look bad." The two of you stare at each other and burst into giggles.

"After so many years I can't believe me and you still love each other." You state.

"5 Years really isn't that long sweetheart."

"It feels like forever." He nods.

"I love you." He says and gives you a peck on the cheek. You smile warmly at him. His smile matching in full.

He loved you so much, and was so glad to be the reason you don't look miserable all the time anymore, now it's just when he isn't with you. The two of you changed each other for the better and he couldn't imagine spending his life with anyone else.

[thinplacesradio]

a gray-stone path through a park, lit by tall lamps. plants on either side, a red wall at the back, a black bench to the right. white text reads:

[024] THE CARDINALS. A CALLER WANTS TO BELIEVE. THE HOST TAKES A WALK IN THE PARK.

listen here, or anywhere you find your podcasts. transcript under the cut:

[static, radio tuning]

[Traveling Sales Rep: Don’t touch that dial! We’ll be right back, after these short messages.] [static, radio tuning]

[click]

Hello and welcome to Thin Places Radio. I’m your host,

and it is the middle of the night. But don’t worry. You’re not alone.

[Thin Places theme] 

[crickets] [wind blowing] [cars passing distantly]

I’m coming to you still from my studio, which is what I like to call the bench on the edge of this empty park, lamppost lights casting strange shadows through the overhanging trees. There’s something I can feel in the air, here - it’s. Well. It’s thin. The way the wind is pulled in directions it wasn’t blowing. The way the lights flicker slightly different colors when somebody walks by them. People can slip between the cracks here. People have. 

The last person of the night is hurrying through in front of me, lights stuttering as they pass, and - 

[footsteps] [dog sniffing]

oh, hi, honey! Hello! Not to the person. Their dog saw me.

[dog collar jangles] [basketball dribbling] [feet moving] 

There are still a handful of kids out on the basketball court right now. Only one of them is still shooting hoops, laughing at something another one is saying; two more are walking slowly along the perimeter, one balancing carefully, hand on the other’s shoulder, listening. 

I’ll make sure they get home safe. 

So… what is Thin Places Radio? Well, you can call in about anything strange that you’ve got going on in your life - feelings, omens, premonitions, hauntings.

Are you looking for a friend?

Have you been thinking about the next life? 

Did you miss an opportunity that you can’t get back? 

When the veil between worlds is thin, we get closer than ever to the strange and the unexplained - but also to each other. Call in, get it off your chest. Lines are open.

[click] [voicemail:]

So. I have had this feeling recently. I was raised Catholic but I am not sure what I believe anymore. I don’t know that I've been sure, ever, what I believe. I really struggle with my religion, and I always have difficulty finding my faith. And I often question whether or not there is a heaven or any kind of life after this. And when I think about the expanse of eternity my blood runs cold. Eternity alive or eternity in void. Either way, it terrifies me. And i don’t know what i believe is there.

But I find comfort in my grandparents, who have all passed away at this point. But they're with me somehow. I don’t know how to explain it but, whenever I am faced with something very difficult or upsetting, usually when I have to make a big choice, around the time that I’m really, you know, things are coming to a head, I have a dream where one of my grandparents visits me, and they just sit with me. And a lot of the time they don't say anything. They just sit with me, and they smile. And I feel warm. And I really think they're there, because the next day, I see a cardinal, and a cardinal is supposed to be the soul of a loved one returning to check in on you.

Recently I saw three cardinals after praying for the first time in a really long time. And the prayer felt weird and uneasy, and strange to me, and the loneliness of the way that i think and the way that I feel about faith and the possibility of a life to come, the thing that always brings me comfort is that my grandparents will come to see me, and I’ll see those cardinals. And I don’t know, I guess my question is, how do I… how do I find a resolution between those two things? It’s something that I’ve really been thinking about all day. 

It’s not quite the middle of the night. It’s the middle of the beginning of the night, for me, right now. But I just wanted to get this out of my brain and somewhere else, so. Thanks. Have a great night. 

[click] 

Hi, caller. Thank you for your thoughtful message. [eerie, curious music] I’ve seen so many strange and wonderful and terrifying things, and I don't know what any of them mean, or what they all mean together. Nobody does. I don’t know what forever looks like either, but it scares me, too. 

I don’t think you find the resolution. You see your grandparents, and you see the cardinals, and together, they mean something. But maybe when you pray - if you pray - it will always feel like a shot in the dark, a shout into the void. Maybe you’ll hear something back. Maybe not. Doubt is faith. Faith’s doubt. 

You will walk this tightrope your entire life, and maybe that is the resolution. I think it’s the point. The great mystery is where God lives. 

[click] [Morse code beeping] 

I - I hear it again. There’s something else coming through again. Something I’ve been hearing for a long time. Someone. It’s someone, isn’t it. 

-.. --- -. - / -... . / -.. . .- -..

Did you ask me to stay safe once? It feels like I’m trying to keep a promise I don’t remember making.

[click] 

[park sounds resume]

One of the teenagers is passing the basketball to their friend, now, who’s walking to the other end of the court. They’re all quiet, and it seems like the park is holding its breath, too. 

[like an announcer] Do we think they’ll make the shot? [breath] [ball bounces] Incredible. Nothing but net, if this basket had one. Three points. 

The kids are all leaving together, finding their way home. None of them are getting lost tonight. They all make it out of the park, and to their rides or bikes or well-worn paths, and through their front doors, and into their beds. 

But I think I'll sit a little longer. I’m not in danger, after all. I’m already in-between. I’ve already gotten lost. 

[a cardinal calls]

[click]

Thank you for listening, callers, and thank you for calling, listeners. I hope you feel a little bit lighter. I know I do. As always, our number is 717.382.8093. That’s 717.382.8093. Until next time. I’ll be here.

[static] [Traveling Sales Rep: visit us at the - diner just off -] [Various Garbled Voices: the - road - provides - the - road - provides -]

Thin Places Radio is a podcast written by Kristen O’Neal and produced by Kaitlin Bruder. The voice of Your Host is Kristen O’Neal.

Tonight’s voicemail was left for us by Erin. Editing and sound design are by Kaitlin Bruder, and the music tracks you heard in tonight’s episode are: the Thin Places theme and Unearthed, by Miles Morkri. If you have a question to ask, a story to tell, or a suggestion for the host, give us a call at ‪(717) 382-8093. The lines are always open.

[Thin Places Theme outro]

[another cardinal calls back]

[medaknight4]

Frozen Assets

Chapter 2: Following Leads

Nikila listened to the echoes her feet made with the cold cobbled stone as she paced along the stronghold's Wall of History. Her steps made for an easy rhythm to tap her chisel to as she scribed her experiences into the tablet she held. The reverberations that resulted soothed her, wrapping around her in a warmth that reminded her of Vinik, who was elsewhere in the fortress.

The approach was three pronged, like the trident on her back: she would gather information from Matua, Les would go talk to the Archivist about records, and Vinny would see if the other members of the Fortress had heard anything. Simple. Unfortunately, the Toa of the Green was being cagey with her. Nikila figured this was somehow payback for earlier. It wasn't her fault she could bite with the best of them. And now it was biting her back. The Toa had been jumping through niceties and hoops for almost an hour before she felt confident enough to start digging deeper.

“So all of this is Brotherhood approved?” she asked cautiously.

Matua nodded. “They had final say over every letter sent over here, including how to transcribe the Wall. Of course, our additions have to stick to their standards as well but I assume you knew that to be a given.”

Makes sense. “You can't go easy on my parts?” She had built up a decent rapport with the Toa of Plantlife. If she didn't shoot her shot now, she might never get to act on her hunch again. “Do they have a centralized repository at their headquarters, then? They must get regular updates from their territories often.”

Matua smiled without looking back at the other Toa. “I wouldn't do that if I were you. Not a soul but their chosen few know the location of the organization's nest. I suspect it's actually multiple places to keep a close eye on strategic hot spots.”

Now there's an interesting word choice, comparing them to Rahi, intentionally or otherwise. “Is there a reason they dropped a fortress in one without such qualities?” Nikila looked around, not only to scan the depressing architecture but to help her observation land should Matua look back. “Kind of the middle of nowhere. Cold as an Ice Bat, too.”

“The Brotherhood's foresight is beyond my own, I suppose. They are guardians of the Known Lands just as we are, and have a wealth of information. Information they would gladly give if one were to ask for, nicely.”

Nikila backpedaled without breaking stride. “Of course. The issue is simply where to start looking for their aid. We've been searching for our Matoran across the Silver Sea for millennia now and have yet to find a representative of theirs anywhere.”

“From what I've heard, you've been dotting along islets and the coasts; Makuta tend to oversee the larger islands and the centers of the continents. I can send a missive to the South. It will take a while to get to its heart but I know a few Brotherhood agents there personally. I can vouch for them, and you to them.” A moment's pause. “I think Flail and Mace are talking Vinik's ears off right now; they'd really appreciate his stories, from what you've told me.”

Nikila quickly lowered her rising finger, her follow-up clenched in her throat. Aw Karzahni, he clammed. Time for damage control. “His mind is a Protosteel trap for yarn but his ear for concrete detail could use some work. Plus, he prefers the spoken word. He'd probably be bored out of his gourd carving all this prose.” Her work was in shorthand, of course. She didn't know how long she had. Matua is smart enough to figure it out when it was to be reported, right?

The ceiling shook with an armor rattling boom, dust sprinkling down upon the two Toa. Nikila bolted down the corridor, her tablet and chisel clattering on the floor. Matua stole a glance at the symbols on the newly chipped stone, a single word in the sea of letters searing into the warrior's mind as he followed to investigate the commotion:

Madness.

----

Lesovikk sighed. “So that's a no to Idris and Sarda, then?”

“Eeyup.”

“And of Cordak?”

“Only bits and pieces here and there. There hasn't been anything since the island was abandoned. At least, nothing official. There was never a Makuta assigned to it, so the Brotherhood effectively knows nothing.”

The Toa clenched his fist, disheartened. Just this once, he hoped to not feel like a hound yanked by its chain through the mud of an aloof world. Were the former defenders of Cordak chasing their tails as the time's arrow left them behind, leaving only dust and echoes in its accursed wake? The chill of the fortress basement was nothing compared to the despair that ran through his body. A frozen waterfall in his sinking stomach. “Karzahni.”

“Not there either.”

The offhand comment from the Archivist snapped Les out of his depressed stupor. He stop to ponder the possibility, however small. “You… have information regarding Karzahni?”

“From only a handful of anecdotes, yes. Three, to be precise, from deep in the Southern Continent. One of Mutran's scribes took what was regarded as firsthand accounts from a Le-Matoran named– ”

A razor-thin chance, along with decades of annoyance and begrudging respect, took hold of Lesovikk's autonomic nervous system; he blurted without thought. “Defilak!? That hot-headed– if any Matoran could saunter out of Hell, it would be him.”

The sudden volume from the usually quiet Toa startled the Archivist, almost enough to not question about the outburst. Almost. “How did you know…” The realization hit the registrar like a ton of the tablets she often worked with. Three deviant Toa looking for lost Matoran. And this one just asked about Cordak. The Archivist's wings sagged with the weight of the realization before her curiosity beat out her bout of melancholy. “So that's why Matua allowed you in here. Was he one of yours?”

Lesovikk would have continued with his tirade but the words fizzled out upon contact with the inquiry. “Yes,” he replied, curtly. “He is still my charge, despite the unwanted criticisms.” The Toa decided to take a play out of his Brother's book and pivot to something more lighthearted.

“Can you believe there are Matoran out there that can hear about our exploits and think 'yes, but you could have done this'? Defilak is one of those. Like he has it in him to become a great Toa-hero.”

He paused; Les hadn't used chutespeak in millennia. Defilak liked how it sounded, so he taught every other Le-Matoran on the island how to use the strange syntax. Or tried, at least.

“I didn't realize you've been to Metru Nui,” said the Archivist.

“Not I. Defilak claimed that knowing how to speak other dialects of Matoran would help me more effectively communicate with foreign powers.” Lesovikk chuckled softly despite himself. “Your local Trader visits the City of Legends twice and he thinks he can change a whole island.”

“Hmm, a headstrong Le-Matoran with the instincts of a Kavinika,” remarked the registrar. “I can see how he would last this long.”

Lesovikk reflected on the insinuation. Some breeds of the wolf-like Rahi were said to never let go once they bit down on their prey. Of course the two butted heads before the Turaga went mad: they were reflections of each other: loyal, territorial beasts that knew what was best for the pack. The Toa was about to respond when the Archivist preempted an apology.

“Sorry for the snark; I get cranky when I'm cooped up down here too long.” She experimentally flexed her wings and stretched her arms above her head. A few stray feathers brushed the sides of the cobblestone walls when an explosion rocked the chamber, unleashing a cloud of dust from the floor above. The Archivist recoiled, pinning her wings to the side to reduce her profile. “I didn't do that, right?”

Lesovikk's mask glowed as he tapped into the Kavinika's heightened hearing. “I have a nasty feeling that our unwelcome guests have returned.”

----

“And that's how we almost fought a Rock Lion,” Vinik concluded, wrapping up his tale. He gave his audience of two a glance, his mask screaming for a reaction without a sound.

“Wow,” muttered Mace in quiet awe. “Somehow the avoidance of conflict was more engaging than the urge to engage with and the results of the conflict itself.”

Flail nodded sagely in agreement. “I liked the part where they didn't hurt the big, loud kitty more. That would have been mean and bad.”

“Have you ever had that kind of experience?” Vinik pondered aloud. “Where you knew you had to help out in a dire situation, to help a creature in need despite the danger or costs involved?”

“When the heart of an island is on the line?" A young Toa of Fire hopped off a stack of supplies in the corner and approached the conversation. "Of course.”

Flail smiled and waved. “Oh hey, Hover! Glad you made it through the fight from before.”

Mace frowned and lightly elbowed their comrade in the side. “Toa Lhikan has been with us for almost a year, now. I do believe his name should be used more often when he is spoken to.”

An understanding expression graced the bright yellow mask of the rookie. “It's fine, Mace, really. They have a hard time with names. It's why you adopted the convention as well, right?”

The other Toa stared daggers at the observation, readying a retort, but they relented. “Astute as always.”

“See? I told you Hover likes it. It's much better than Greatswords. Too long, and doesn't sound as good.”

Vinik didn't hear this latest back and forth; he was too busy reminiscing about the previous members of the Toa Cordak. They were all very much like this in the beginning: a disparate group of warriors that could compliment each other one moment and grind each other's gears the next. It did take a few hundred years to smooth out the real contentious parts of the team, but when they used their different strengths to bolster the whole, they were a force to be reckoned with. Did Destiny hold this in store for these Toa as well? Tragedy was an inescapable truth of the title but would it reforge them into stronger stuff? Only time would tell.

Vinik was shaken back to reality.

“Hey Gauntlet, you okay?” Flail asked worriedly. They laid a massive, gentle hand on the Toa's shoulder. “Didn't you see my hand waving in front of your face?”

Vinik blinked a few times before responding. “Apologies, my Sibling, I was lost in thought. You reminded me of… friends of mine, who I knew long ago–”

The wall opposite of the group burst open with a great cacophony, spraying debris into the chamber and nearly knocking its occupants to the ground. A stray rock struck Mace in the head; they crumpled over into a newly formed heap of Protosteel. Vinik cursed and extended the claws on his gauntlet, their blades shining in the newly lit room. “Come no closer, demon, lest you face the wrath of a Fortress of Toa!”

Three figures stepped through the crooked gash: two with grins as wicked as Vinik's claws, and the other towering over them both. “We are here for the Stone,” said the imposing blue and gold figure. “Relinquish it or die.”

Prev | First | Next

[thankyouforbeingsowrong]

15 questions

Thanks for tagging me @mr-iskender <3

1. Are you named after anyone? IRL my mum gave me my middle name after a 17th century writer. The name I've been going by online since high school is Tabitha or Tabby after the daughter from Bewitched 😂 I watched a lot of old TV reruns as a kid.

2. When was the last time you cried? Weirdly, I actually can't remember, but probably my last depressive episode. Thankfully they're few and far between at the moment!

3. Do you have kids? I have a two year old and it is indeed super hard to find time to write between work and family! I have gotten very good at writing on my phone so I can do it on the train to and from work and in bed as I'm falling asleep (maybe also at work shhhh). When I was writing the Advent fic I took several days of leave from work while my kid was in daycare to get some solid writing and editing done haha

4. Do you use sarcasm? Oh yeah

5. What is the first thing you notice about people? Depends on the person, but often their voice, unless they have a super obvious distinguishing feature, or really wild fashion.

6. What is your eye color? Greeny-brown depending on the light I think.

7. Scary movies or happy endings? I agree with Alex, these are not mutually exclusive or comparable but I definitely don't watch many scary movies anymore (I seem to only be able to rewatch ones I enjoyed as a teenager for the nostalgia factor), so I'll go with happy endings.

8. Any special talents?  I can hula hoop for a really long time, but I don't think I can do tricks anymore. This has come in handy exactly once in my life, and I won a tiny hat for my efforts.

9. Where were you born? At the JR in Oxford which is hilarious considering what fandom I'm in now.

10. What are your hobbies? I am one of those people who starts a million hobbies and then moves on if I'm crap at it or the novelty runs out. But besides writing I do love drawing, embroidery and crochet, I wish I had more time for them!

11. Do you have any pets? A very sweet old dog and a mean cat who doesn't like anyone in the house except me 🤣

12. What sports do you play/have you played? I don't think I've played a single sport since high school, I much prefer solitary exercise!

13. How tall are you? Like 160cm/5'3" I think

14. Favorite subject in school? In year 12 it was human biology, even though I also loved art and lit and went on to do a BFA, I just loved that class so much.

15. Dream job? My dream is to have no job, because I learned at uni that I do not like the pressure of doing anything creative for other people (especially if money is involved) but part time work if I could afford it - in a well-funded library - would be a big improvement!

I never know who to tag for these things, but if you want to do it say I tagged you! (I'm also nosy, I want to read your answers lol)

[trans-xianxian]

*makes all the antagonists/aggressive characters darker* wow I love not being racist/j

It’s absurd that person accused you of envy due to criticism and not to mention calling u a zoomer as a means to devalue your opinion… Godspeed mutual racists never stop 😭

their arguments were just so nonsensical as well like they were grasping at anything to prove they weren't being racist it's honestly impressive the hoops they were jumping through to deny it. like if you're rlly priding yourself so much on not being racist why don't you actually try it lmao

also it's so so funny like what kind of middle school level argument to accuse anyone who disagrees w you of envy... in their second reply which I only read part of lmao they were like "I have to call you out for this so that you don't do it to other people" which is so so funny like baby I've been doing this a long time and had dozens of ppl react the exact same way. you're poorly constructed, reactionary, bad faith argument is not going to stop me from calling out shitty things on the internet you are not the protagonist of the world you are not the hero 😭

[kimiehashobbies]

Hey ladybugs,

Im going to hopefully give you more insights into me. So i wanted this to be a personal post. I've tried to keep this pretty tame but I do mention my eating disorder. I just want you to know that once you start focusing on yourself things will get better. Follow your heart if you read nothing else. Here's a tiny piece of my story below.

Dont let people project things they dislike about themselves on you. This seems to happen to me a lot. All my life I've literally been told that i couldnt do anything at all that I wanted to do. I let others put limitations on me because they themselves never felt they could do anything they wanted. Is that ok to you?

I wanted to do ballet, told I was too fat. I developed an eating disorder. I wore baggy clothes in middle school because I even had teachers tell me my chest was too big to wear fitted clothing. Honestly, I wasnt fat but I went through puberty early. I was just curvy. I am fat now because of how I've dealt with my depression via food. I struggled with anorexia in my teens then binge eating in my 20s. My highest weight was 218. I havent gotten bigger than 187 in recent years. My goodness if I didnt want to be tall and slender. I envied people who were model thin and had small chests. My fitness journey has become so important to me because I just want to look the way I want to look. I want to be 127 and im ok with the fact I wont have a small chest or slender figure. Its ok that I dont have a slender ballerina body. I spent too much time hating my hourglass shape. It was never anything to hate its just how im built. All bodies are beautiful. I realized I can still take adult ballet lessons. I want lessons so that my lines look good when I start Lyra Hoop. This is what I decided to do to fix this childhood wound. Im going to be ok.

I wanted to do acting was told its not a real job or goal to aspire. It was something I had natural ability, to become a different person. I got lead roles in school plays I was even told by official judges in competition I was a natural. Honestly, I realized I played a role all my life. I've played someone that wasn't me. Probably why I latched on so hard to acting in plays. It was easy for me because being anyone but myself was more bearable. Im not playing anymore roles to escape being me. Im stepping firmly into myself in my 30s. I can only be me. Im ok with this too.

I wanted to finally move to a different state was told stay here because it was no way I could make it without "support". The truth is no one ever supported me here (except my husband, he's always loved me even though I always see myself as too broken). Something just always felt wrong with me. I became more isolated the more profound my depression became. The lower my self esteem became the more I distance myself from connection. No one ever got to know me anyway. How could they when I never knew myself? All thats changing because Im firm in knowing who i want to be. Im not there yet, but (but, but, but) I see so clearly what I want for myself. I definitely know through all this struggle who I am not. Totally ok with this.

I was never a lead character in my own life. I was 28 when I realized I chipped away at parts of myself to please others (or my perceptions of what others wanted from me). Screw that, I'll do everything that my heart desires. Im turning 33 this year and I want to live my life for me. Doing what everyone always wanted never worked out for me. I gotta do what feels ok to me. This is all ok.

If this resonates, you can do anything you want to do. Never let people chip away parts of you. You're good enough. Im sorta a late bloomer but I feel great about my 30s. Life is for living so I must be active in my pursuit from now on. As long as you're living its never too late to do what you want to do. "Dont let your dreams be dreams."

🐞🫶🏾 Kimie

[priestessofspiders]

A Dream of Annihilation

I am sitting in my living room, sipping a glass of lemonade, reading the newspaper. It is a bright, sunny day. I can hear children playing outside in the street, they have set up a basketball hoop. The suburbs are pleasant, it is a weekend, so no cars disturb their play. Everything is calm and peaceful.

I glance up at the clock, before remembering it hasn't worked in years. I keep telling my wife I'm going to go downtown and get it repaired, but I never do. The hands point to 8:37, but I know it must be much later in the day than that. The face of the clock has a single crack down the middle, like a lightning bolt. I glance down at my watch instead. It reads 2:46.

I finish my lemonade and put the empty glass in the kitchen sink, rinsing it with some water. I look outside and hear the chirping of birds mix with the laughter of children. My wife is taking a nap in our bedroom, as is customary on weekend afternoons. I decide I will go and join her.

I move the glass to the dishwasher, but it's not full enough to turn on just yet. I'll leave it for later. I am about to turn away from the window and shuffle away to the bedroom, when suddenly there is a bright flash, brighter than anything I have ever seen in my entire life. In an instant I feel my skin become sunburned from the radiance, and I close my eyes instinctively. Bright points of light dance behind my closed eyelids.

I open my eyes to see a mushroom cloud blooming over the roofs of the houses, dwarfing the height of anything I'd ever seen up until that point. I know the shockwave is coming soon. I know that I have only seconds before I am nothing more than ashes. The end of my life, once a murky, indeterminate point in the future, has instantly been revealed, clarified in a single instant. Any action I take in the next few moments will be the last thing I ever do.

Do I run and wake my wife? Do I tell her I love her one last time? Or do I just let her sleep, let her enjoy her last moments in peace? There isn't long to choose, I have to make a decision soon, before it is too late. But I can't. I am paralyzed, frozen with indecision. I fear that my choice will be made for me, that my last moments will be spent standing before the window, too terrified to even move.

Everything is silent. Sound travels slower than light. Even though I've seen the explosion, I haven't heard it yet. The birds stopped chirping and the children stopped laughing the second the bomb went off. I wonder if they too know it is the end.

Just as I begin to move, to make a decision as to how I will spend the last seconds of my life, my ear drums burst from the loudest sound I have ever heard, will ever hear. Everything goes white.

- - -

I wake up from bed, crying out from fear. The walls are shaking, I can hear things falling from the walls. I don't know if I am truly awake or if I am still dreaming. Tears are streaming down my cheeks. I see my wife also sat up in bed, rubbing sleep from her bleary eyes while asking what is happening. I hold on to her as tight as I can, fearing for our lives. I told her that I wouldn't ever let her go, that I loved her more than the world, that no matter what, everything would be alright.

- - -

The earthquake wasn't nearly as bad as it seemed initially. Bigger than any I'd ever lived through, sure, but nothing terrible. A few things are damaged, glasses and other breakables mostly. The TV fell off the stand and shattered, but we still had the warranty, so it was no big deal. Frankly I am surprised that the quake had been as mild as it was, seismologists had been warning us for years that the next one would practically level the city, and here we were with the worst damage being some broken mugs. It is an absolute relief after the dream I'd had.

My wife and I take the day off from work from our respective jobs to spend time getting everything cleaned up, that way we wouldn't have to worry about it when we got back home in the evening. The cleaning isn't too difficult of a task, mainly it is just a matter of putting back up pictures, cleaning up shards of glass, that sort of thing.

Luckily we still have power on, so I pour my wife and I each a glass of cold lemonade from the pitcher I'd put in the refrigerator the night before. She smiles at me as I hand her the glass, and I smile back.

An hour later, we are sorting things that have fallen off the walls and shelves into three separate piles; broken, damaged, and undamaged. Anything broken is going to be sent off to the landfill. Damaged items we can either get repaired or try to donate. The undamaged items we can put back where they belong once we finish sorting everything.

As we sit, sorting the fallen items, I feel a warm sense of relief flow through me. The dream I'd had really shook me up quite a bit, but everything is alright now. It really is going to all be okay. I feel optimistic about my wife and I's long and happy future together.

I reach for the next item to examine, and my blood suddenly runs ice cold. The object I hold in my hand is a clock, one we usually keep on the mantelpiece. The glass is cracked from its fall to the floor, a jagged line in the vague shape of a lightning bolt. The clock is stopped, it seems that the mechanism is broken. The time reads 8:37.

[careycuprisin]

Inside of me, there are two wolves... 

Good times at the post-race awards and breakfast

One wolf is only around when I am running a long race. This wolf says that long races don't make me happy and aren't fun and that I should not succumb to the peer pressure that is the only thing that makes me enter these 100km and 100 mile events. This wolf goes on vacation at the end of these races and does not make an appearance until the next long race starts. The other wolf is the only wolf that is around most of the time. This wolf says that a breakthrough is right around the corner. It tells me that the joy that will come when I finally have a good long race will be worth all the drudgery of slogging through races like the 2021 Bear 100 and the 2022 Never Summer 100k to get to the aid station where I drop and then wait in a chair, tediously, for the ride back to wherever I parked my car.

This second wolf has a lot of advantages. It knows that in other areas of life, I have had success from slogging through unpleasant and tedious drudgery. It knows that I can be very patient, and it knows how to use that fact against me.

But the first wolf also has its own advantages. It knows that a lot of the joy I've had in life is because of the decisions I made to get off the treadmill I was on, and to do something different. It knows that I have a lot of scorn for constantly beating your head against a wall or trying to jump through hoops that social convention puts in front of you, and it knows how to use that fact against me.

So here I am after another long race that I have to judge as unsuccessful. I'm listening to the second wolf, and not foreswearing any more long races, but remembering that the first wolf made a lot of good points as I was doing 50-minute miles and laying another egg at the Never Summer 100k.

One of the best ways of describing Never Summer briefly is, it was about twelve hours of nausea and abdominal cramps with an overlying six hours in the last half of very low energy. But apart from that, it was incredibly beautiful and I'm glad I did it.

I started about three rows back from the front so I could wish Niall and Stephen and Meghan and Mario a good race. I felt great. The first few miles was spent drifting back to a reasonable position in the middle of the field, waiting for LeRoy and Chantal and Jesse to move ahead of me as was reasonable and prudent. That happened near the top of the first climb and things were looking good. Then then on the first downhill, my lower GI tract started cramping up and giving me nausea and threatening diarrhea. I stopped halfway down for my first trip into the woods, putting me five or ten minutes behind. Everything was feeling fine on uphills, but every downhill was pure suffering that could only be ameliorated by slowing down. By the time I got to the Diamond aid station at mile 20 I'd been in the woods twice and in a state parks toilet once, for a total of three unscheduled breaks. I was now a lot further back in the pack than I'd wanted. But I know that not everything stays the same during these races, and that if the GI distress passed and I could run the downhills it still might turn out to be a good day. It was nice seeing Megan and Chris and Maggie and Yiran in the aid station, and I left feeling optimistic.

Going up Diamond Peak was amazing. Everyone should do it, preferably more than once. 

The ridge descent off of Diamond Peak (📸 Megan Hetzel)

Descending off Diamond onto the long tundra-covered ridge, the intestines were still saying 'no' to jogging. Walking felt fine, but this was a running event so I was not happy. I did see some hikers and some of them had very good-looking dogs with them, so this part of the race was nice in some important ways. By the time I left the ridge and got to Montgomery aid station, the overall situation had not improved. But now, thanks to the cramping and nausea, I was down a bit on hydration and nutrition and it felt very hot with the sun high overhead. This equates to saying that things were worse. During the long downhill to Ruby Jewel I was passed by the rump of the pack. I still knew things could get better but now there were cutoffs on the horizon so I couldn't really wait forever. I thought about dropping at Ruby Jewel, but the vibes at that aid station were bad. It was hot and it seemed like some volunteers were stressing about getting all the troublesome dropped runners out of there after the cutoffs.

The first one was the Diamond Peak climb

After thinking about it for a while, I left for Clear Lake. My voyage there was frankly spectacular. I couldn't run downhill because of the cramps whose cause is still unclear, and now I couldn't really go uphill either, because of dehydration and lack of adequate nutrition. The climb to Kelly Lake felt kind of comical even at the time: stagger up about ten feet of elevation gain, rest with hands on knees. Another ten feet of climb and sit on rock. Occasionally watch another poor soul stagger past me. Entertain myself by looking at the amazing flowers and spectacular view. Keep doing this until Kelly Lake and then shuffle, slowly, downhill as the light faded. I wondered if I could get to Clear Lake aid station without a headlamp. I did but just barely. Here I knew that finishing the race was not an option. My choice was to continue pulling 50-minute miles out and back to Clear Lake then get timed out, or to drop without walking to the lake in the dark. I don't mind a little suffering but I usually like it to be for a reason, and the first wolf was telling me all the reasons why getting timed out at Clear Lake was infinitely dumber than just dropping, because there was no way I was going to Canadian aid station on foot in either case. So after waiting thirty minutes to be sure nothing would magically change, I pulled the plug. Another tedious wait in a chair and a ride back to the start line. Thank you to volunteer Steve for the ride. 

I managed to drive back to our airbnb only getting lost once, and to sleep for about four hours. When I woke up I felt great. I still do.

The second wolf is now back. It says I should do the Bear 100 in about seven weeks because what are the chances that this unexplained GI problem will happen again? It never happened before, so the odds are very low. And if it was due to elevation (a possibility) that won't be a problem at the mostly 8,000-9000 foot Bear. A very reasonable wolf. The first wolf is on vacation again, so it seems less reasonable. The pattern repeats. 

Let's do this again! (📸 Megan Hetzel)

[extravaguk]

pairing: jungkook x reader

summary: But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

wordcount: 15k

genre: summer!au, ex high school classmaters, kinda frenemies to lovers, tattoo artist!&piercing artist!jungkook, popular!reader

rated: m (fluff - smut - angst)

warnings: you broke jungkook's heart you bitch!! , oral sex (m&f), protected sex (shocking tbh), CL as your bestie it doesnt get better than that! idk i dont wanna spoil too much

author's note: fucking finally dude!! i've been writing this since february but school was kicking my ass. now that i finished my exams and mercury is in gemini i was able to finish it. if you read this, i hope you enjoy it!

Inkphoria

You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping the flyer too tightly, rumpling the paper in your hand until you're pretty much sure it's ruined. It's the first day of June, and it's already too hot. The sun and humid weather are causing beads of sweat to form in your hairline and your white tank top to stick to your skin. Your jean shorts didn't feel this uncomfortable a few hours ago and you're sure the heat is causing your mascara to transfer to your eyelids and lower lashline. You've never needed a slushie and a smoke this bad in forever, even if you knew the later would make your parents lose their shit.

Inkphoria

You read it again. Your brain is trying to guess what font its written in, an excuse to try to steady your heart beat until your nerves ease a little and you can finally gather the courage to step into the damn shop. You've noticed a few people passing by giving you strange looks because maybe it hasn't been fifteen minutes. Perhaps you've been unmoving like an idiot in the middle of the street for longer than you want to admit.

Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.

'Its not that much of a big deal. It's not even that painful, trust me.'

You wish you could trust your best friend, but your best friend is also the same woman who assured you Cats was the movie of the year. Yes, not 'Cats: The Musical'. 'Cats', the movie.

'And this could be a great start to get out of your comfort zone and start living your life exactly the way you want to, not the way people expect you to. Not the way your family wants you to, not the way Adam wanted you to.'

But although her credibility could sometimes be questionable - like that time she also told you she'd tried marmite and 'honestly, it's not as bad as people make it out to be'-, you also didn't trust anybody in this world as much as you trusted her. She had always been your entire support system, the only one around you who never sugarcoated, who always treated you as an equal, who was always there for you to help you discover yourself and, at the same time, remind you of who you were.

'And it's gonna look so hot, too.'

That's it. Sticking the wrinkled flyer on your back pocket, your feet finally start moving. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing open the door.

The first thing you notice is that, thankfully, the shop is empty. The second thing you notice is the bright sky blue walls, a green undertone peaking through. Your eyes scan nervously the interior. Frames with tattoo designs and people modeling other different designs decorate the walls, some skateboards also hanging from the ceiling. A few plants in the corner, and two leather couches on either side of the room. Your scanning stops on the counter, where a girl with short, platinium hair and -what you guess is- the eighty percent of her body inked. Face included. She's been looking at you, a smirk tugging at her lips. Her tone is amused when she speaks

"Hi." she says. "You can come closer, you know? We don't bite."

Great. As if you couldn't feel more out of place, apparently you also couldn't look more out of place.

"Sorry." you gulp as you walk forward. "It's my first time doing anything like this."

She laughs this time, but it's not mean. It's not mocking, thank God, and the smile she sends you is as warm as the weather, friendly, luckily helping you calm down a bit. "A virgin, huh? JK's gonna love this." your eyes jump in surprise, but she's fast to wave her hands in front of you. "Just a joke. So, first time getting a tattoo. You have something in mind, honey?"

"Um, no. Not a tattoo. Not yet, I think." you wet your lips, regretting not reaplying chapstick before stepping inside. "A piercing."

"Oh! Cool!" she claps her hands, too excited for your own taste, pulling from under the counter a catalogue. "So, where will it be? Cartilogue? Nose? A lot of people are getting their septums pierced right now, though, so you might-"

"Nipples. Like, one of them."

Her gaze finds yours in surprise, although her face swiftly transforms again into an amiable expression. "Now, that's badass. Alright!" she skims through the pages of the catalogue until she finds the nipple piercing collection. You scratch your head before wiping your forehead sweat-free. "You can pick either barbells or hoops, although barbells heal faster and they don't move around as much. There's different kinds of metal, too. Gold or platinium. If your skin is sensitive, I recommend titanium. It's hypoallergenic and not as problematic."

The blonde keeps talking as you nod your head, a smile making its way into your face while silently thanking her for her easygoing personality. It quickly makes you feel comfortable and stupid for being so terrified of doing this.

Once you decide, settle on the cost and sign the papers, she stands up from the stool she'd been sitting on. "Ok, I'll go tell my coworker. He's been sketching tattoos all morning, it's time he gets to work!" she laughs, but suddenly your smile banishes and your throat shuts down.

"He?" your alarmed tone halts her motions and she looks back at your frightened expression.

He? A he is going to pierce your nipple? You're about to let a random stranger, a HE, see and touch one of your boobs and then pierce a needle through one of your nipples?

"Oh, baby, don't worry. I'd do it myself if I knew how to, but I only do tattoos. Most of our staff are on summer vacation so it's mostly just him and I. If you don't feel comfortable, which is totally understandable, you can wait until september when Minzy comes back and she can do it for you." It's her turn to scratch the back of her head as she adds: "but trust me, we're professionals. He's not a creep or anything like that. He's been doing this for a long time. He won't cross any boundaries."

September? You won't even be here in september. Fuck.

Sure, you could do it when you move back into the city. But this summer was supossed to be the summer. You already decided after your breakup with Adam that there would be no trace of the old you. That it was time to push yourself, to do the things that you've always wanted to do, unapologetically. To find the new you, the real you. To stop being scared.

So after going through you options for a few seconds and taking a deep breath, you make up your mind.

"It's fine. I can do it."

≿━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━༺❀༻━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━≾

"JK, sweetheart!"

Jungkook is finishing drawing a Chinese dragon when Mijoo opens the door without knocking. Again. He puts the pen down, rubbing his eyes. It's monday, a slow monday, not much work, and he had hoped it would stay that way until closing time. It's summer and Jungkook hates summer. He hates the heat, he hates being drenched in sweat, and he hates the fact that he can do nothing about it. Because working in the summer is terrible. Summer makes him lazy, makes him want to bathe in a tub full of iced water and not get out until he turns into a raisin and october comes. It makes him irritable. Summer makes him annoyed by people -like Mijoo, even if he loves her to death- and himself.

"I got a girl here who wants a nipple piercing, her first piercing by the way, so get your shit ready and bla bla bla. Straight titanium barbell. Also, don't flirt and don't be creepy. She almost ran away when I told her a male was going to be touching and piercing her tit, be mindful of that. She's too cute, if you want to get her number you should wait until it's done. I think that's it. I'll bring her in in a minute."

Mijoo leaves as fast as she talks, but Jungkook is already used to it. He's already used to the headaches her mouth causes too. He sighs before standing up, tying his too-long raven hair into the best bun he can manage. He washes his hands, sets the table up, sits on the chair and puts the gloves on. He's too busy sterilizing the jewerly when Mijoo comes back with you.

"Alright, my babies. I'll leave you to it." she turns to you. "He'll explain everything, from how the process will be to how to take care of it after it's done." she leaves before saying bye, closing the door behind her, and then he finally turns to you.

Your eyes meet and suddenly everything stops. He almost drops the sterilizing machine, his whole body tensing, going into panic mode as he recognizes you immediatly. His hands shake.

Of course he does. Of course he recognizes his high school crush. The too goody two shoes, too pretentious and too rich, too good for everybody and, most importantly, 'too good for Jeon Jungkook' girl of his high school dreams. Of course he recognizes the girl he had confessed his stupid crush to when he was sixteen. Of course he recognizes the girl who rejected and broke his young and foolish heart when he was a dumb teenager.

It doesn't matter that six years have passed ever since. He still knows every lock of your hair like the palm of his hand. He still remembers the shape of your lips and the exact shade of your eyes. He can still identify the body he fantasized about -and jacked off to- when he was a hormonal teen, now filled in all the right places. Now a grown woman.

Just one look at you after years and years of pining is enough to almost make him faint. And grow a boner under his jeans.

And by the look on your face, your eyes wide and your mouth agape, you recognize him as well.

Dammit.

He schools his features and clears his throat. Forces his body to relax and compose himself, because he's not a teenager anymore. He's also a grown man, who has matured, who now has much more experience with women than he did back then. He had already embarrased himself enough when he was sixteen to be doing it all over again. You're just another attractive girl in a sea of attractive women.

He turns to you. You still haven't said anything. Neither has he.

"Um, you can sit on the table." he manages, motioning to the set up in front of him. He watches you taking doubtful steps until you're sitting down, your eyes avoiding his gaze. He almost forgot you were here to get pierced. Holy shit, you were here to get pierced. To get your nipple pierced.

You're a professional, Jungkook. You can do this, Jungkook. You've seen boobs before, Jungkook. You've pierced nipples before, Jungkook.

Clearing his throat again and forcing his hands to stay by his side, he speaks. "The... The top." your gaze finds his, like a puppy about to get scolded. You look at your top, realization dawning on you. "You don't have to take it off. You can just pull it down."

So you do, pulling the straps of the white tank top down and dragging the fabric down with trembling fingers. No bra. Jungkook gulps as your breasts comes into vision. As perfect as he had imagined years ago. His cock twitches. Round, full, perky and so damn inviting he has to hold himself back from latching onto one nipple with his mouth around it and swirling his tongue over the nub until you're a pretty, moaning, little mess on his piercing tabl-

He closes his eyes for just a second before reminding himself to act like the 23 year old Jungkook he's tried so hard to become. The confident, assured Jungkook he is.

"Okay, this is how it'll go. First I'll clean it and scrub it to get rid of any bacteria." he's so glad he hasn't stuttered yet. 23 year old Jungkook doesn't stutter like 17 year old Jungkook. He's also glad he can pick the alcohol bottle and the surgical scrub without trembling. When he faces you again, you're watching his motions with your lip caught between your teeth. That has him swallowing the lump in his throat.

Making eye contact with him again, you take a deep breath and offer a small nod, so he gets to work. He can show you and himself he's a grown man. A grown man who can pierce a nipple without appearing like it's the first time he's seen a boob in his life. The sooner he does it, the sooner it's over.

Jungkook wets the paper towel with alcohol before carefully wiping over your nub with it. Your back arches, probably from the cold feeling, he guesses. He rubs it a few times before throwing it in the trash can nearby. He avoids looking at how enticing the soft peak is salluting him when he reaches for the marker. He doesn't say anything when he dots it with it, jaw clenched and his dick painfully stiff.

"Lay back." his voice low as he commands, turning away to get the clamp. When he slides closer, he tries to ignore the view: you, with your hair sprawled and your sweaty, shiny skin and your eyes focused on the cieling, nipple fully erect, like the star of one of his most erotic dreams. He extends his free gloved hand before he can stop himself, fingers carefully working the nub until he's sure it's painfully hard. Almost as hard as he is.

You gasp, your back arching again. He stills and looks at you, your cheeks flushed pink. Probably from the heat, he guesses again. Or at least that's what he tells himself. He can't stop himself from wondering how responsive would you be in a different setting, most likely his bed while his teeth play with your breast and his cock dives into-

"You okay?" he studies your face, your eyes not meeting his and instead still focusing on the white ceiling.

"Mhm." you reply with a small voice.

"Relax, alright? It'll be over soon." his voice is as gentle as he can, his fingers mindlessly caressing your breast to try to soothe your nerves. Or maybe it's just because he's a selfish bastard. Whatever it is, he forces himself to bring the clamp to your nipple, securing it around it.

"Take a few deep breaths. This will only take a second of pain and then it will go away." He misses the way your mouth falls open, but he doesn't miss the way your eyes squeeze tight as the needle goes in.

"Ah!" he definitely doesn't miss that either. He goes rigid for a second, because that didn't fucking sound like a cry of painfulness. It's breathy, and whiny, not too loud and, for fucks sake, if that's how you sound when you're getting fucked, he swears to God-

He feels your heartbeat under his hands when he puts the barbell in and then the bandage over it. He takes a look at you, chest moving up and down. And then you take a look at him and what he sees is almost enough to take you right there.

Reddened cheeks, drops of sweat framing your face and those eyes glazed with something he's seen too much in the women he's fucked throughout his life. They're half lidded, mascara adorning your long lashes and almost smudged, looking right through him.

"Jungkook..." and your voice, as you say his name -acknowledging him for the first time since you stepped into his shop, for the first time since you were sixteen-, it's hoarse, almost inaudible, like you just came all over his-

He's on his feet in an instant like he's been burned. "It may bleed for the first week, and it can be really sore. The swelling will eventually come down." he's quickly tidying up the table, a bottle in his hand that he hands to you without looking directly. "Wash it gently with this soap and warm water once per day. Don't touch it. Wear a comfortable...bra. If it gets crusty, clean it with saline. Not alcohol or any other thing you might clean a wound with. The soap I just gave you or saline. Nothing else."

He's pacing around the room as he takes his gloves off and throws them in the trash bin, too agressively maybe, then he keeps rambling, like he's hurriedly trying to make you leave as soon as possible. "Avoid pools and the sea. It takes about six months to a year to heal, so don't... don't touch it, don't play with it or..." he clears his throat, "don't let anyone else play with it. And if it gets infected, come back immediately and I'll take a look at it." which he honestly hopes it won't happen. When he faces you, your top is back on and you're getting off the table.

"Alright, um...I'll do that." clearing your throat, your hand gripping the doorknob. "Thank you."

But right before you can exit the room, Jungkook says your name.

"_____." when you turn around to face him, it takes a few seconds for him to make eye contact from across the room. "It was good to see you."

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"Let me see!"

It's the first thing Chaelin says when she opens the door to her appartment. It's on the second floor, small enough to compare it to most expensive appartments you'd stayed in throughout your life, but big enough for Chaelin, her cat and her -impressive- collection of acrylic nail kits and pairs of high heels. It's also big enough for her to offer you the only guest room until summer is over so you didn't have to, one, stay at your parents' place, and two, find an appartment in a short period of time for a short period of time.

When you left years ago, you did so with the thought of 'never looking back'. You never really expected to return here, of all places. Maybe visit your best friend for a weekend at most, have dinner with your parents on a saturday and then go back to the new life you'd made for yourself on a sunday.

But that was before you'd caught Adam cheating.

Tale as old as time: childhood sweethearts get engaged, move in together, son of a bitch sleeps with the assistand he told his girlfriend not to worry about, and then the brokenhearted girl packs her bags and leaves the cheating bastard begging for her to come back.

You'd be lying if you said you were surprised.

Throughout your life, you'd learned to expect many things, regardless of being sheltered and babied by your family since you were born. Watched too much Maury and Dr.Phil. Too much Gossip Girl to know what the deal with life really is.

So, thankfully, you'd only shed a few tears, mostly because your ego and self steem were slightly triggered. You'd realize long before that your feelings for Adam started to disappear once he popped the question and you said yes. Your love story began as teenagers but soon after graduating, the two of you went on different paths: you'd matured, grown into your twenties while he got stuck at 17 and never stopped acting as such.

So yeah, whatever, break ups are hard. But they're not as hard when the love is gone and the sole reason to stay with your partner is to please your parents. You were also right when you expected your mom to tell you to 'forgive and forget' because 'those things just happen, it's not a big deal, honey'.

But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook.

Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

The lanky nerd with braces, glasses and an anime obsession much bigger than his hentai obsession, which is saying a lot. The shy, awkward classmate who'd stuttered his undying crush for you when you were just kids. That one who you had rudely rejected like the bitch you used to be in high school.

But my God, Jeon Jungkook was anything but a kid now.

You were shocked. You were gagged. Couldn't seem to fathom what was happening and what your eyes were seeing. It took you a while to close your mouth when you realized JK was Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.

With messy black hair, a smoldering gaze free of glasses, piercings adorning both ears, and his right eyebrow,, the braces long gone showing perfectly straight - but still bunny like- teeth. The clothes he wore were loose, all black, but it was impossible not to notice the muscles of his back and arms, covered with tattoos from his hands to his forearms. You'd bet there were more of them underneath the fabric.

It was awkward at first. You didn't know what to do, or what to say. Didn't know if he rememberd you. So you chose to stay quiet while your body chose to react like it had never been in the presence of an attractive young man in it's entire life.

And oh, did it react.

He was reluctant, his old timid demeanor peeking through his newly adopted persona. But as soon as those hands came in contact with your skin, your whole body was lit on fire. Like you were 16 and losing your virginity over again and it was the first time a dude touched your boobs.

There shouldn't have been anything erotic about it -besides the fact that your entire breasts were exposed-, it should've been just a professional procedure. But those gloved fingers touched and pinched and suddenly you were too aware of Jeon Jungkook and the way you were starting to sweat profously, not due to the heat of the season.

You tried to distract yourself by looking at the cieling and not at his gorgeous face. Tried to avoid thinking about Jeon Jungkook and how his mouth would feel wrapped around you. Tried not to think about the way your panties were a second skin to your folds, and how tempted you were to grind your hips until you recieved some sort of friction with the jean fabric of your shorts. You wonder if he noticed you squeezing your thighs together. You hope not.

And then the needle happened. You never thought of yourself as a particularly kinky person. Sex with Adam was boring for the most part and you'd lost your libido for a long time. Stopped thinking about sex altogether. But the pain. The pain mixed with his hand rubbing soothing circles on your breast and his voice, as sweet as honey, guiding you through it. It made you reconsider a lot of things you'd once dismissed as 'weird' or 'deviant'

You swear you almost came right on his table.

And then your eyes connected, you made the mistake of calling his name like a satisfied woman who still needed more, and it was all gone. He stood up like a scared cat, gave you a bunch of explanations about the aftercare that you barely grasped without even looking at you and pretty much rushed you to leave.

So you walked, all the way from the tattoo parlor to Chaelin's appartment, mortified, and completely humilliated.

"Are you gonna let me see or not?" your friend says expectantly as you finally sit down after chugging a glass of iced water. You sigh, placing the glass on the table before carefully pulling down your top. "Oh my God, it looks so cool!" she gasps and you can't help a smile while she studies it in amazement. "Did it hurt?"

"Um, I guess." you keep out the part where you almost orgasmed, obviously, stopping her hand from touching when she reaches towards you. "Wait, no. He said something about not touching it for like six months or a year, I don't remember."

At that, Chaelin's eyebrows quirk up. "He? It was a he? Was he cute, at least?"

"You won't believe this..." looking away for a few seconds, you take a deep breath. "It was Jeon Jungkook."

There's a pause, a silence that fills the room when Chaelin's jaw drops. "Jeon Jungkook...pierced your nipple?"

You close your eyes, bracing yourself for what you're a hundred percent sure is coming.

"Ha..." there it is. "Ha ha..." you still know there's more. "Ha ha ha..."

Chaelin laughs hysterically for about God knows how long, while you keep drinking your glass of water unfaced, your mind drifting back to Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie, his tattoos and his stupid gloved hands.

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You know he's here.

Everything was cool, you were doing alright, having a great time with your vodka sprite in hand and your cute white bikini on. Chaelin was by your side, the guys were excited to have you back and thankfully, you'd avoided most questions about Adam and they'd avoided digging too deep into the topic. You'd sunbathed the whole afternoon, kept away from the water like he'd told you and ate the Hawaiian pizza Yoongi insisted on ordering despite Namjoon's and Jimin's complaints.

It's at night, when you're a little tipsy and your cheeks are flushed, that you feel it. You'd barely noticed Taehyung disappearing to let in a new guest.

You don't see him, but you feel him.

You're sitting on the pool tile steps, legs dangling and the water baely reaching your belly to make sure it doesn't touch your very sensitive and newly pierced nipple. Your back is facing the sliding glass doors of Hoseok's house, but the moment you hear his voice, smooth but animated as he converses with Taehyung, your body wakes up immediately, back straightening, goosebumps forming on your arms and nipples tightening against the fabric of your two piece.

You don't turn around, instead opting for downing the remaining of your drink and coming to the realization that, of course, Taehyung, social butterfly who'd always got along with everybody and remained friends with most people from high school, still keeps in touch with Jungkook.

You ignore him when he enters the pool, still peering from the corner of your eyes while pretending to be engaged in Chaelin's and Jihyo's conversation. Your mind sabotages you by taking you to that day a week ago at the tattoo parlor.

To the warmth of his hand, to the few strands of hair that his small ponytail couldn't keep together, to the way his eyes focused on such an intimate part of your body, to the endless ink decorating his skin, to-

Great. Now your bottoms are wet and not due to the water.

You don't miss Chaelin supressing a laugh and her not so subtle elbowing. You glance at her in warning and try to keep calm for the next fifteen minutes until Jin proposes moving to the living room to watch a movie.

"I'm gonna stay here for a little longer, guys." you say, after clearing your throat. You needed some time to gather yourself before being in a confined space with Jungkook.

"Are you sure?" Jin stops by your side to place a hand on your shoulder as everybody starts exiting the pool. "It's Mean Girls! You love Mean Girls! You never miss a minute of Mean Girls!"

Rolling your eyes, you wave him dismissively. "I know every dialogue on Mean Girls like the back of my hand, I think I'll be alright, Jin."

When everybody finally leaves, you take a deep breath, covering your face with your hands in an attempt to get him out of your head. Damn Jeon Jungkook and his irresisitble glow up.

"You okay?"

The unexpected voice startles you, a gasp finding its way out of your mouth and causing you to jump on your seat, heartbeat erratic as you instantly recognize who it belongs to. Your hand grasps your chest as if that would do anything to protect yourself against him.

"Shit, don't do that!" you say, the words almost getting stuck in your throat as you see him approaching you, still submerged in the pool. The more he nears you, the less water depth there is and the more visible his torso comes into view. Wich was exactly what you'd been avoiding.

Because Jeon Jungkook was ripped, as you'd imagined when you first encountered him.

Broad shoulders and strong biceps and chiseled abs and veiny forearms. Drenched hair, a full sleeve of tattoos and water dripping from delicious tan skin and all just so very hard. That paired up with a loopsided smile that does nothing but make you shudder.

"Sorry." he doesn't sound apologetic at all when he says that, the smirk adorning his features telling. "You just seemed a little off." you advert your gaze when he pushes his hair back.

"I'm fine, just...just wanted to be by myself."

"Oh" Jungkook's smile disappears. "I can leave, if you want me t-"

"No!" you're not sure where that comes from and neither does he, judging by the look on his face when your eyes find his. Eyebrows raised and mouth slightly parted, he's as surprised as you and there's an awkward silence for a few seconds. "Um, you don't have to. I mean, it's not my house, you can do whatever you want." you sniff and tame your voice, trying to seem cool and collected like you didn't just practically beg him not to go.

Ironic, considering this was exactly what you had been fearing for the past thirty minutes.

And then he smiles. A knowing smile. A smile that says 'you just totally checked me out and now you don't want me to leave'. A smile that you would have never associated with Jeon Jungkook of all people years ago. A smile that makes you want to look away but still keeps you in place.

"Sure." he says, closing the space between the two of you slowly but still leaving enough distance. "So, how's it going?"

You clear your throat, head high and determined not to let this man, or any man for that matter, turn you into a trembling mess. You're still you and you're not easily shaken by the opposite sex. Or at least that's what you helplessly chant in your head.

"Everything's cool. I'm on summer vacation now," a little white lie, "so I decided to-"

"The piercing." he says, the smile never leaving his face. "I meant how's the piercing."

"The pier- right." you almost miss the step he takes forward, all too aware of his height over yours but thankful for the centimeters that being propped on the stairs added to yours. "It's-" you almost, almost miss his knee touching your knee and him slightly separating your legs with his own inch by inch. Or how your thighs open unvoluntarely to welcome him in and how you can barely find coherent words to speak. "It's doing-" or the way his smile disappears and is instead focusing his dark stare fully onto yours.

"It's doing well." you finally say in a whisper, not being able to bring yourself to be louder.

He hums. "May I see it?" Jungkook wets his lips with the tip of his tongue and the action and his voice is enough to make you nod your head, bewitched.

His movements are unhurried, his hand coming up to tentatively come in contact with the flesh of your clavicle. His fingers skim through your skin upwards, his touch is feather-like when it wraps around your throat. You pant, and he stops but he doesn't move away, his eyes still focused on yours, studying you, daring you to pull back, to tell him to back off. But just a simple touch of his and you're fully under his control. It reminds you too much of the day you got that damn piercing.

Your lips are parted and for a moment he stays just like that. His body so close to yours but not close enough, and his hand slightly gripping your neck. Your pussy clenches around nothing and you can't wrap your head around the fact that something so simple sets your entire being alive and leaves you aching.

Then, as slow as he started, his hand travels from the front of your neck to the back, pushing your hair aside to carefully untie the straps of your bikini. He breathes through his nostrils, doesn't make a sound. He seems so collected it's starting to annoy you.

Instead, your breathing is ragged when the top falls down, exposing both your breasts to him. That's when he removes his eyes from yours and his jaw clenches. Your nipples perk up under his gaze, like they remember him and the effect he had on them just a week ago. You're at least glad you're not the only one affected but he seems to be a master at keeping it under wraps.

Then, his hand moves again, leaving goosebumps on your skin as it goes south. Jungkook takes his time, so deliberate you want to scream, until he's cupping your pierced breast, keeping away from the nipple just like he'd advised you a few days prior. You can't look away from his face, from his eyes observing you like you're a full course meal and he's been starving for days. You feel drops of water falling from his hair to your thighs, his thumb caressing your skin so delicately as it faintly nears your still tender nipple. Just nearing it, never touching it.

"Beautiful." his murmur is almost imperceptible and for a moment you think you've imagined it. Your back arches on its own, breast pushed against the palm of his hand, almost like your body is begging him to come closer, to touch you more, to feel you all over. He meets your eyes briefly, gauging your reaction, before going back to your chest. Suddenly, the grip on your breast tightens, fingers ever so softly squeezing your flesh. From your throat comes a mewl, your eyes shut and your legs close around his waist.

"Jungkook, please..." you whisper when you open your eyes. He looks at you, unvertainty written all over his face, lips bruised as if he had been biting on them too hard, gaze as glassy as yours. And just like that, the spell is broken. He blinks and his expression changes completely. Lips forming a straight line and jaw tight. His hand retracts, fixing your bikini top over your breasts before tying it around your neck like it originally was. Meanwhile your eyebrows crunch in confusion. But when you're about to start asking questions, he clears his throat.

"It's healing okay." he steps back, avoiding your eyes. "I'll see you inside."

Jungkook leaves the pool like nothing happened.

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Jungkook is fiddling, fixing the position of his glasses and combing through his straight hair with shaky hands, habits he's tried so hard to get rid of in his sixteen years of existence but still finds impossible to.

He can't help it. He's always been like this: the quiet and awkward kid in class who sits in the back, a misunderstood puppy in a sea of stronger dog breeds that could eat him alive. An outcast. Too geeky for his own good. Notebokes full of Dragon Ball doodles on the margins of the pages, the shelves in his room stacked with Marvel figurines, and a closet filled with outdated clothes that he has been inheriting from his older brother.

He has never been the type to stand out, always being overlooked by people like he's invisible. He doesn't mind though. He'd much rather be ignored than getting picked on by bullies like he used to in elementary school.

He never gets invited to parties. Ever. He's a nobody who barely speaks, and when he does he either stutters or manages to embarrass himself in one way or another. He's seen the look on people's faces when they look at him. Their eyes seem to scream 'weirdo' everytime he gets acknowledged.

So obviously the only reason he was invited to this particular party had a first and last name: Kim Taehyung. The only kid in Jungkook's entire life who didn't look at him in a funny way, the only kid who took the time to entangle in a random conversation with him after class and who seemed geniune enough to make Jungkook feel comfortable.

He's not sure how it happened, since Taehyung mostly hangs out with the cool kids. But somehow it did, and now Jungkook is uncomfortably standing in a living room full of drunk teens, looking directly at you.

You, the one girl Jungkook had been pining on for God knows how long. You, who are obviously too pretty, too popular, and way out of his league. You, with your plaid skirt and your polo shirt and those legs that never seem to end. You, who are sitting with your friends in a couch, drink in hand and visibly tipsy. And yet, he doesn't think he's ever seen anyone pull of the 'drunk-rosy-cheek' look better than you.

He can hear your laugh through the music and he already thinks it sounds better than whoever is playing in the background.

"Come on, Gukkie! Her friends are leaving and she's all by herself now! It's your chance" Taehyung's obviously drunk too because it took Jungkook a while to decypher his exact words. He'd disappeared for a while and now that he's back, he's pushing Jungkook in your direction.

"This was a mistake, Taehyung." Jungkook shakes his hair and steps back, quickly glancing at the front door to prepare his escape. But his new friend's grip on his hoodie keeps him in place.

"Guk, listen. The only thing you have to do, is walk up to her, and say 'hey I think you're, like, really pretty. Just letting you know. Bye!' That's it. Jung- Dude, Guk, seriously, look at me." Taehyung grabs Jungkook's cheeks, squishing them between his hands and forceing him to face him. "You've been crushing hard on her for years, my man. We're graduating and you won't see each other again. What's the worst thing that can happen? Getting rejected?"

Jungkook's eyebrows draw together. "Um, yeah?"

"Exactly! Getting rejected is not the end of the world, bro! It just means keep trying on other girls!" Taehyung releases his hold on Jungkook's cheeks. "I just think you're going to regret not telling your crush she's your crush. Who knows? Maybe in the future you two will get married."

Jungkook snickers, muttering a 'yeah right' under his breath. Still, he can't help the smile that Taehyung's words always seem to pull out of him.

"Now," Taehyung playfully slaps Jungkook before turning him in your direction again. "Go get 'em, tiger!"

"Okay," Mijoo's voice slices through Jungkook's memories. She's sitting on Jungkook's desk, munching on her brownies and looking at her coworker expectantly. "And then what?"

He sighs, running a hand through his hair, sits back on his chair, already feeling the effects of Mijoo's baked goods. "And then I walked up to her, like a damn fool, stutter and all. And I say:" he clears his throat, making an effort to do his best teenage Gukkie impression."'Hey, _____, um, so, I think you're beautiful and I've had a crush on you since seventh grade, haha, just wanted to let you know.'"

Mijoo rolls her eyes, still chewing. "And then what?"

"And then she looked me up and down, giggled, fucking giggled, Mijoo, and said 'Who are you, again?'" Mijoo gasps and Jungkook closes his eyes, trying to force that recollecion out of his head.

"What a bitch." she can't help but laugh before apologizing. Jungkook merely shrugs his shoulders and takes another bite of his brownie. "She didn't say anything else?"

"She said something along the lines of:" he clears his throat again, this time, doing an impression of you. "'That's sweet and all but, you and I... we're not the same. And I have a boyfriend, so...' She said that like I didn't know, like I wasn't aware of the school's it couple! Like I was dumb!"

Mijoo nods. "And now you want to fuck her even more than you did in high school."

"I- No! Well, yes. Fuck, of course I want to sleep with her! But I just... can't."

"Why not?"

"Did you hear anything about what I just told you or were you too concentrated trying to get high?"

It's Mijoo's turn to roll her eyes. "I heard everything you just told me. I just don't understand what the problem is. You two were sixteen. Sure, she was a bitch about it, but Lord knows I've been a bitch my entire life and now I'm not anymore." Jungkook raises an eyebrow at that. "Okay, sometimes I can be nice. But the point is..." Mijoo finishes her piece of brownie before getting off of Jungkook's desk. "It's been, what? Nine? Ten years? People change, JK. You're the best example of that. You want to fuck her and she obviously wants to fuck you too. You're both adults." she wipes her hands on her shorts. "I think it's time you fulfill that high school fantasy of yours."

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You've made up your mind.

And by you, it means Chaelin has made up your mind.

It didn't take long to convince you though. That last interaction with Jungkook cause too many emotions stirring within you. It left you hot, it left you bothered, it left you confused. Sure, it also left you a little bit embarrassed like the first time, but above everything else, that interaction with Jungkook left you absolutely livid.

Because who the fuck did Jeon Jungkook, formerly known as Guk, Gukkie, Jungukkie, and currently known as JK, think he was to come near you, speed your heart rate's up, and then runaway like that?

You've spent days thinking about it. About that face, about that body, about those hands and- shit. You're doing it again.

You've spent days trying to push those intrusive thoughts. Spent days trying to bury what happened. You've spent days trying to keep quiet, not telling anyone about it and just wishing that stupid spark of desire simply went away.

But it has just been simply unavoidable. You haven't been able to ignore the sleepless nights with your brain drifting back to that night and forbidding your hand from slipping under your panties. Or the excessive amount of time during the day where images of him suddenly popped in your head and wouldn't go away, even with you squeezing your thighs to try to make the ache go away.

So you ended up ranting and ranting and ranting to the only person you could confide on, who is obviously your best friend. Your best friend, who's too smart for her own good and knows you too well for your liking. Because apparently your moodiness and snappy remarks couldn't go unnoticed.

And after explaining the fiasco over a bottle of wine -and minutes of endless laughing on Chaelin's part because, again, it's Gukkie you two were talking about and, according to her, this was "the most karmic thing I've ever seen"-, she gave you the best advice an older sister could ever give.

"Fuck him."

"I know right? Fuck him!"

"No. I mean, fuck him."

And now here you are. Right inside that room you stepped in weeks ago, confronting the man in question with the same confidence that has always distinguished you from others and trying to act like the fluttering inside your belly wasn't nauseauting.

"A date."

"Yes."

"You want to go on a date with me." this wouldn't be so hard if Jungkook didn't look so delectable in a plain white t-shirt and ripped jeans. You cross your arms over your chest, doing your best to not look down at the exposed skin of a man who obviously worked out a lot and apparently, never skipped leg day. "What's the catch?"

He's sitting on his chair, back resting comfortably and legs spread, narrowing his eyes at you and probably wondering why the girl at the front desk let you in without an appointment. Also, probably wondering if there was a catch to all of this.

"There's no catch. I just want to go to the fair this weekend. I'll ask Taehyung for your number and text you the date and the exact place we'll be meeting. Unless..." your quirk one of your eyebrows. "Unless you're already planning on how you'll chicken out this time."

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Of course, Jungkook says yes to going on a date with his high school crush but spends the following days overthinking every single thing.

He can't help but feel like it's kinda sketchy. What if you're planning your vendetta on him? What if you don't even show up and he ends up there looking like a damn idiot? What if you hate him and are just messing up with him? What if that incident in high school is going to repeat itself?

"If she doesn't show up, you simply move on and never speak to her again. It's that simple. She can't have that much power over you to cry about something like that." Mijoo had said that same day she let you in the tattoo parlor after you'd asked to see Jungkook. Jungkook's coworker hadn't even question you and just motioned you to Jungkook's room with a knowing smile on her face. Later that day, Jungkook had scolded her about it and she'd simply shrugged.

He considers cancelling, eyes reading the 'won't be able to make it, sorry (sad face emoji)' over and over again and fingers hovering over the send button so many times he's lost count. But then he remembers that comment of yours about him chickening out and Jungkook starts seeing red.

How couldn't you understand he's just terrified of you rejecting him one more time? Sure, Jungkook is now an adult who doesn't get butthurt over stuff like that. He's experienced too much after graduating from high school and he's a much stronger individual than his fragile self back was back then.

But something about you just makes him feel so... weak.

He still finds it impossible to concieve where he got the courage to approach you like that at Taehyung's pool, or how he brought himself to touch you for longer than a minute without coming in his pants. He'd enjoyed it too much. Allowing him to see you so exposed, just for him. He'd be so tempted to kiss you right there and then, to run his hands up and down your thighs and fully wrap your legs around him to let you known how much you'd affected him. Once you called his name, it was like he'd finally snapped out of it and backed away like he'd been burned by you. He spent the next twenty minutes trying to keep himself from pulling down his pants and jerking off in his friend's bathroom.

It's terrible. Because he feels like the teenager he used to be when you're around. Shy, insecure and overall a mess. You showing up in his life after so many years and now apparenly being interested in him seems like a dream that he's not sure he wants to keep being in or wake up from before it's too late and he falls back into that tumoltuous longing that will inevitably end up in heartbreak. His heartbreak.

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It's saturday night, he's standing by himself in the crowded fair at the spot. You're fifteen minutes late and he's already about to turn back and dip out. He feels too awkward and the nerves are eating him alive.

You're not going to show up. You're not going to show up and now he feels and looks even dumber than the time he told you he was crushing on you. You're not even going to show up and now he's going to come back home, get drunk by himself and curse your name for-

"Hey!" he turns around to the sound of your voice and sees you running towards him. "Sorry I'm late! I couldn't find my phone and spent like thirty minutes looking for it. Turns out, Sharon Stone, was taking a nap on top of it and I didn't even notice."

"Sharon Stone?"

"Chaelin's cat."

To be honest, he's too surprised to process your explanation right away. He might also be a little speechless because that sky blue sundress looks too good on your skin and your eyelashes are so long, framing your beautiful eyes, and your lips are all glossy and kisseable that it takes him a while to find his own voice.

He clears his throat. "It's alright." scratching the back of his head, he momentarely adverts his gaze from you in an attempt to not get distracted by how soft your hair looks and how much he wants to wrap it around his hands in a ponytail. "Um, where do you want to go first?"

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Almost an hour and a half later, when the sun has already disappeared and you're both surrounded by colorful lights, Jungkook decides to buy the both of you hot dogs and a drink and you both settle down on a bench.

You've been walking all over the fair, going from booth to booth, playing any game in sight Jungkook dared you to -he obviously had a competitive streak-: from the ballon and dart games, to the shooting games, to the bumping cars, to the ball-in-basket one. To say you were having fun was an understatement.

You'd almost regretted setting the date up. You were sure he wouldn't even show up and if he did, you were scared of how awkward things could get between the two of you. And if things were awkward, you were sure it would only take less than thirty minutes for the both of you to part ways and never talk again about such failure of a date.

To your surprise, none of that happened.

The conversation was flowing, both of you acting like you were strangers on their first date getting to know each other, which, to be fair, that's exactly what it felt like. There was a slight banter, teasing each other when one of you lost in whatever game you were playing while the other was obviously winning. There were laughs and a funny feeling in your tummy whenever you'd walk side by side and his arm brushed yours.

There was no stiffness on his shoulders, no mention of the past or your previous encounters, no acknowledgement of the blatant sexual tension you'd experienced before, not an ounce of avoidance whenever your eyes met his and he was even sure of himself enough to place a hand on your lower back or briefly interwine your fingers with his to guide you through the mass of people.

It felt like you'd both unspokenly agreed on making each other feel comfortable enough to have a good time.

"I didn't think you were going to show up, to be honest." you suddenly say, taking a sip of your strawberry juice and thankful to finally let your feet rest for a while.

Jungkook looks at you, hot dog mid air and eyebrows almost disappearing into his hairline. "You didn't think I was going to show up? I didn't think you were going to show up." you simply shrug, lowering your gaze seepishly, the beginning of a smile on both your faces. He surprises you by tilting your head in his direction with his forefinger. You watch him watching you, a little dazed, a little lost in how his dark hair messily falls over his forehead and his equally dark eyes study your face, his thumb swiping over your lower lip. "You um... There was ketchup right there." he lies.

"Oh" you say, feeling your face heating up. "Thanks. Red doesn't really match this dress." you manage a smile and tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear.

At that, he eyes your dress for a moment, mouth slightly ajar. He's debating on whether or not to say something but you beat him to it.

"I'm sorry, by the way."

"For being late? I already told you it's fin-"

"No." you shake your head. "For... that time when we were young and I was such a concieted brat." you say, looking away , trying to find anything else that's not his pretty face. "I thought I was a queen bee back then. I was annoying and rude, specially to you. I..." you lick your lips. The cherry glittery gloss was already gone. "I thought it was cute, what you said. There was no reason for me to act like that. I know this doesn't make anything right but..." when you turn to face him again, there's still the same expression on his face. "I'm sorry."

A few seconds go by before it's him who's shaking his head. "It's okay. It was a long time ago, anyway." he smiles at you, although it doesn't reach his eyes and seems sorta forced. You sigh, and he takes your hand. "Let's go to the ferris wheel."

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tell you're tense. You're sitting right beside him in the ferris cabin, your back is all straight, you're facing forward and he believes you haven't blinked for what feels like an eternity. He thinks it has everything to do with your conversation a few minutes ago. You were probably not content with his response but what could Jungkook do? There was really no point in apologizing for something that happened years ago, but at the same time, he didn't want to hold anything against you like a resentful asshole because it was really not who he was. But there was still a little bit of stingyness inside of him and he didn't know how to make it go away.

At the end of the day, here you were, on a date with him that you'd asked for, getting along and asking questions about him and laughing at his jokes and trying to start all over again.

But then the ferris wheel starts moving, and he finally understands why you look so uncomfortable.

It's the way you immediately grip his forearm, nails digging in his skin and he swears he hears the smallest gasp forcing itself out your throat.

"Are you... scared?" he tentatively asks.

You say nothing for a while, not moving an inch. He would laugh if you didn't look so pained about it.

"I don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters." you finally say through gritted teeth.

"It's not really that small and ferris wheels are not rollercoasters. " your nails dig deeper and he winces. "Okay, okay. You don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters, and that includes ferris wheels. So why didn't you tell me?"

"I don't know. I've never liked ferris wheels but you seemed excited about it, so..."

There's a silence after that in the environment, neither of you exactly sure of what to say or how to act. Until Jungkook moves one of his hands hands until it's resting on the one who's holding onto him for dear life, fingers caressing yours. The warmth of his hand spreads through yours and although it's almost July and you can already feel your sweaty back staining your dress, it's oddly comforting. What's more comforting even, is him twisting his body towards you and talking with the calmest and most soothing tone you've ever heard.

"Look at me." you do instantly, unwillingly, and kinda wish you hadn't. It's almost as if your body will do anything he says without question. Like he has some sort of power over it to just react however he wants. His eyes bore into yours and suddenly the cab doesn't seem so suffocating. "It's just you and me right now. We're not even on a ferris wheel." the corners of his mouth turn slowly upwards. You zone out the environment, suddenly too aware of him and how close he is and how loud the beating of your heart is to your own ears.

"Jungkook."

You swallow the knot in the back of your throat when he removes his hand from yours. It almost makes you protest, - now realizing you've losened the tight grip on his arm- , before it craddles your face, keeping you in place while bringing his body closer.

"You have to stop saying my name like that."

With his thigh touching your thigh, your whole demeanor melts. When he leans closer, and you feel his breath fanning over your lips, your eyes shut closed.

"Tell me I can-" he starts to say.

"Yes." you finish for him. He doesn't doubt on closing the distance between you two. His lips touch yours and your body shakes in excitement. It's just him lightly skimming your lips with his but it's already too much and at the same time, not enough. It has you deepening it, yourself moving closer when he kisses you again. It has you relaxing against him, the tenseness prior disappearing and making you arch your back when his tongue asks for permission.

But it's exactly then, the moment you open your lips to him, that has you losing your mind.

The sparks fly, traveling from your head to your toes and then settling on the pit of your stomach as soon as the kiss starts to turn desperate and rough. When he nibbles your lips with his teeth, it makes you mewl and whine and your nipples tight against the cotton of your dress. It makes the metal barbell to feel uncomfortable, slightly painful. And when he goes back to being messy and filthy with his tongue tangled with yours, your thighs close on their own.

He forces himself to pull his hand back and bring it down, finding the parting of yd opening them for him. "Wait," you say, your fingers wrapping around his forearm as you try to catch your breath."The ferris-" he shuts you up with another kiss.

"We're not on a ferris wheel." he reminds you, a soft whisper against your mouth. And for whatever reason, you believe him.

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"He fingered you on the ferris wheel."

"Yes."

"And you came before the ride was over."

You take a small sip of wine, your eyes focusing on the TV where a rerun of the Golden Girls is playing, although, to be fair, lately you haven't been able to pay much attention to anything else but a certain brunet with doe eyes and kisseable lips. "Yes."

She hums, stealing a handful of popcorn from the bowl between your thighs.

"How long did it took? Like five minutes?"

There's a pause in which you clench your jaw, your fingers twitching around the glass in your hand, and then you answer. "Probably less."

There's another pause, and then-

"Ha...Ha ha...Ha ha ha-"

You let her laugh. It's okay. You knew you had it coming.

Chaelin knows the pillow you throw right at her face is also something she had coming.

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It's not that you're mad.

Jungkook and you had a great time on that fair date, he made you laugh, bought hot dogs and drinks for the two of you and got you off inside the cab of a ferris wheel on record time with those magical, long fingers of his. Technically, there shouldn't be anything to be angry about.

Except it's been a week and you can't stop thinking about him, about wanting more, and about those words that he left you with after the ferris wheel ride ended, when you had tried to return the favor.

'Next time, maybe.'

And there hasn't been a next time.

The thought of texting him or giving him a call to ask for another date is persistent in your mind. It remains while you do the laundry or wash the dishes, while you shower, while you eat or while you spend your days at the beach with Chaelin. There's always the incessant desire to reach out towards your phone, unlock it and dial his number to beg for more.

But you'd never been one to beg, so you resist the urge everytime that feeling starts to creep up on you and it washes over you like a wave. You silence your phone and try to concentrate on making the most out of your summer.

It's one random night, when you're tiredly dragging your feet across Chaelin's apartment's carpet, yawning and ready to succumb to a well needed slumber, that you see your phone screen's lighting up with a message.

Your heart pathetically leaps inside your chest when you read his name.

'you free on saturday?'

You wish you could say you ghosted him, ignored his text and moved on with your life until it was him who begged you for another date. But the truth is you opened it in a matter of seconds and typed 'i'm free, why?' back in a rush with trembling fingers.

So now you're on the passanger seat of his car while he sits on the driver seat, the first saturday night of July, like he's Danny Zuko and you're Sandy Olsson, watching a vintage movie in a drive-in theater which plot you don't give a shit about, even if Jungkook's date plan idea made something inside of you churn with adoration.

And the only reason why you don't give a single damn about the movie playing in front of your eyes, is because you're hot. Way too hot. And the reason and cause is none other than the boy-now-turned-man sitting on your left.

You barely exchanged words when he picked you up, just rode in silence until you got to your destination and you bet he can feel as well as you do the tension in the air.

You've surveyed him a few times from the corner of his eye, noticing him fiddling with the rings around his fingers and shifting in his seat from time to time. And if the sight of his fingers bring memories that you've tried to bury to keep yourself from lunching towards him, a brief glance at his forearms, adorned with ink drawn through his golden flesh -doing a poor job at concieling the veins running underneath- and his skin-tight jeans wrapping those muscled thighs of his is enough to have you be the one squirming in your seat.

A woman can only endure so much, and you come to that realization thirty minutes into the movie.

"I want to suck your cock." you say, a stern expression on your face as you turn your body in his direction.

Jungkook frozes as your voice slides over him. It takes him a couple seconds to look at you, shock widening his eyes and parting his lips.

"Huh?" he manages, his grip on the steering wheel turning his knuckles white.

Without separating your gaze from his, you gather your hair and tie it in a ponytail with the hair tie previously around your wrist. You don't miss the quick glance he sneaks into the curvature of your neck and the valley between your breasts.

Inching forward, closing in on him, you place one of your hands on top of his thigh, the action making his whole body tense. "____..." he whispers your name in a warning that doesn't sound convincing even in his own ears.

You smile, your eyes never wavering from his as your hand inches upwards, slowly caressing over the fabric of his jeans until you finally come across what you were looking for.

His hand flies to your wrist, stilling your movements. "____, this is not-". He starts, but his voice gets stuck inside his throat when you palm his undoubtly growing erection.

"Shh." your shaky breath fans over his cheek and you force yourself on your knees on the passanger seat in a more comortable possition to stop the trembling to reach them.

You fumble with the belt holding his pants in place, then with the button and finally with the zipper. He helps you by lifting his hips to pull his jeans and boxers to his thighs and you have to bite back a mixture between a gasp and a moan at the sight below you. You haven't even seen Jeon Jungkook naked all the way, but the mere sight of his hard cock with pre-cum glistening on his crown is probably the sexiest thing you've ever had the pleasure of appreciating.

It gets sexier when you wrap your hand around the base and his body melts in the driver seat, throwing his head back with his eyes shut. It gets even sexier when you finally lower your head, swirling your tongue over the head before finally engulfing him fully in the wet warmth of your mouth.

"Shit." his voice is tight, uneven as his hand loosely grips your ponytail, as if careful not to accidentally hurt you and break the glorious moment.

Although you wouldn't mind at all. Because the moment your hands are on him, and your tongue is on his shaft, that's the only thing you care about. Your belly is twisting, an undeniable wet spot on your panties as the fabric sticks to your folds, and the more you suck Jungkook, the more you want from him. His earthy taste is addicting and the soft little whimpers he occasionally can't prevent himself from are making you want to milk him until he can't take it no more. There's this desire within you to whorship him and his cock like you had been dreaming for the past weeks.

"This is s-so fucking h-hot." he rasps between ragged breaths, the bobbing of your head, sliding up and down his dick as your hand works the centimeters your mouth can't take is about to make him faint.

"Getting a blowjob?" you joke, your throat starting to feel sore as you kiss his leaking tip.

"N-no." he draws in a rough breath when you take him all of him again. "You giving me a blowjob... T-the f-fact that anyone c-could see us..." he darts a quick glance at your body, your ass up in the air and your dress sliding down, almost exposing you completely. "The fact that-ah! Shit..." he squeezes his eyes when he feels a glob of your spit lubricating him.

There's a sudden need to make you feel the same, to touch your skin and have you shaking the same way you have him. So one of his hands travels from your spine, to your perked ass, finally dragging the cotton of your dress to allow himself to see your thin white panties. "The fact that anyone could see you l-like this," he murmurs, regaining a little bit of control when he squeezes one of your cheeks. "letting t-them see you s-sucking my cock and..." he smirks when he feels you gasping around him, his fingers trapped between your thighs and pushing them inside your heat easily "and letting them see me fingering this pretty little pussy."

Soon after that he's cumming in your mouth while you're cumming around his fingers.

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At first, it's mostly on weekends when you see each other. Weekends of stolen kisses and soft sighs and whispering against each other's lips. Then weekends turn to week days, sitting on grass while sipping on refreshing beverages, drawing each other laughs, elbows touching as you walk around the park side by side because the both of you are too scared to interwine your fingers together.

Jungkook feels content like this: sitting on the sand with you between his thighs, admiring the sunset while nuzzing your neck and inhaling your scent every now. He likes waching you enoying your strawberry ice cream, almost forgetting the chocolate chip one already melting in his hand.

"If you were an ice cream flavor,which one would you be?" you ask him, relaxing against his chest.

"Rocky road."

"Why?"

He shrugs behind you. "Everyone likes rocky road."

You hum, playfully rolling your eyes. "What about me? Which ice cream flavor would I be?"

"Lemon sherbet, in the summer."

"Lemon sherbet? Out of all of the flavours out there, you're rocky road and I'm lemon sherbet?"

"Lemon sherbet, in the summer." he corrects.

"Okay, fine. Why?"

"You're boring and basic."

You gasp, trying to feign outrage but not being able to repress the laugh that escapes your throat. You elbow him, his laugh mixing with yours while taking the time to wrap his arms around your form, the breeze blowing your hair allowing him a spot between your neck and your shoulder. "You're boring and basic, but once you have a taste..." he presses a small kiss on your skin, causing the tiny hairs on the nape of your neck to rise. "Once you have a taste, specially on the hottest day in the middle of summer, you can't stop tasting and licking until there's no more lemon sherbet left."

You suck in on a breath when he craddles your jaw to face him. "It's been my favourite flavor since I was a kid." he kisses you immediately after, his lips swallowing the small whimper now stuck in your throat.

You close your eyes as his tongue opens your mouth, arousal blasting your insides and something much, much deeper that you fear to even name shredding your chest.

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The beginning of august comes faster then you two realize, but what you both do realize is how hard it's becoming to stay away from each other.

It's been thirty days of dates happening almost everyday, sharing high school memories and anecdotes of the time you spent away from each other. Hours of getting to know each other and opening up to each other. From failed relationships to new friendships. Of park dates walking side by side and fingers now interwined because you both realized one day that, fuck it.

It's difficult to sleep when you realize you're starting to catch serious feelings for somebody who was just supposed to be a fling. It's hard to sleep when his face, his voice and his touch and thoughts of missing him when you don't see each other start haunting you at night.

It's hard for Jungkook to focus on work when you're everything that's occupying his mind. Because he has a hundred sketches to make but he's too busy thinking about the hundred different sketches he would make of you.

It's hard not to send him a goodnight text, just like it's hard for him not to reply in a matter of seconds, almost as if he was already waiting to recieve it.

Jungkook thinks of you at night. Of how pretty and absolutely perfect you are for him. Of the taste of your lips, the way your hair feels between his fingers, or the flush on your cheeks when he makes you cum as droplets of sweat accumulate between your breasts. He thinks about your voice. He also thinks about the amount of hours left to be able to listen to it again.

But mostly he thinks about how ridiculous this situation is. Because he was stupidly crushing on you when you were only teenagers, daydreaming about a chance with you. And now his crush is long gone and he's starting to realize that he's falling, and falling fast.

You, too, think of Jungkook at night. Of his ability to bring a smile out of you, to soothe you with just a few words and filling your belly excitement, happiness and feelings you're sure you've never felt before.

Jungkook's managed to imprint himself in your dreams, and you, in his.

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Getting drunk with Jungkook is fun and messy.

It's fun because he lets loose, he stutters a lot like he used to do when he was a teenager and he makes you laugh louder than ever before. It's messy because he has no control over his hands as they explore your body, clumsily taking your clothes off as his mouth laps at the breast he's allowed to touch.

He's more forceful and dominating too, pinning your hands above your head, and commanding you to keep them right there, on the pillows of his bed. When you rebel against it, your fingers finding the hard planes of his chest, he pulls away from you and places them back where he left them. "Don't make me tie you up." he threatens, and your body shudders beneath him.

He sucks, and bites and leaves marks all over your skin, grunting in response to your moans. Creating a path of kisses from your lips to your stomach, his shoulders separating your knees, opening you up only for him. And thankfully, when you reach down to tug at the strands of hair framing his face, he lets you, because he knows you need something to hold on to the moment his tongue eats you up. He leaves his fingertrips on your thighs as he keeps you in place, not allowing you to runaway. Just forcing you to take it as he takes from you.

And when you cum, he doesn't back away. He keeps sucking, and licking and punishing you with his mouth until you're cumming over and ove again, screaming and begging for his cock.

Having Jungkook over you, both completely naked, skin to skin and only sweat in between is more than you could've ever fantazised about. He slurls your name when he puts the condom on. He would do anything to feel you raw, but he also knows he wouldn't be able to last a minute. The sight of you spread open, with your cheeks darkened by a crimson blush and your hair tangled all over his pillow is a picture he wants to keep forever.

He enters you when you call his name, your voice dripping with need. He stretches your warm and wet felsh, slowly easing himself into you at first, until he's fully inside and your bodies are completely in union. A shiver runs down Jungkook's spine when he looks at your contorted face in pleasure, your lips forming an 'O' and your pussy clenching around him.

"Oh, my God." you moan into the dark of Jungkook's room, and even then, he can clearly appreciate every curve of your body lifting off the mattress to connect with his. He lowers himself on his elbows on either side of your head, caging you in and capturing your mouth with his.

"I know, baby." he murmurs. It's hot, in the middle of August but suddenly Jungkook doesn't hate summer as much as he used to. Not with you sharing the heat with him. "It's way beyond what I could ever imagine." You nod hurriedly against his lips, your arms finding their way around his neck as he starts rocking in and out of you.

"It's too good." you cry, when he hits a particular spot that has you rolling your eyes in bliss and gripping his waist tighter with your legs against you. Your fingers thread through his hair, not bothered by the beads of sweat gathered on the nape of his neck.

"Too good..." he agrees, not missing the shiver that's shaking your own frame when he picks up his speed. "You have no idea what I would do t-to fucking feel you with n-no barriers between us," his movements become frantic as his hips slap against yours, his jaw clenched as he keeps talking, "to s-stuff you full of my c-cum over and over again until it won't stop d-dripping."

Jungkook's voice against your ear has you trembling and your orgasm nearing closer, your nails scratching down his back as his thrusts overpower your form. "Would you like that?" he asks with his voice strangled.

"Y-yes. Anything y-you want."

"You'd take all of my cum like a good cum-slut?"

You hate the fact that that's what makes you come undone. The twisting and knotting in the pit of your stomach finally snapping until you're holding on to him like you never want to let him go and he's following soon after.

Because if Guk, Gukkie, Jengukkie was not only able to make you come in less than a few minutes with his fingers or his tongue, but he was also able to make you cum instantly just by calling you a good cum-slut, that means you're fucked. Like, really, really fucked.

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There's a knot in Jungkook's stomach and a suffocating grip around his vocal chords as he caresses your skin. The sun is rising in the distance with the first rays of light entering his room through the window. Your shamphoo is intoxicating him, numbing him and enticing him to bury his nose in the tangled curls pressing against his chest. Your arm is thrown across his stomach, your breathing leavig goosebumps all over his body.

"It's too early. Go back to sleep." you mumble against his heart. He wonders if you can feel it dangerously speeding up.

"I can't." he says, voice struggling to stay balanced. "I have to tell you something."

You hum in response, sleep still interwined with your body, your arm tightening around him. You sigh in content, expecting him to elaborate.

He wets his suddenly dry lips. "I don't want this to end. In fact, ____.... I want more. Need more."

"Jungkook..." your whole body goes rigid right away, untanglling your bodies from each other and sitting up on the mattress.

"No, listen to me." he mimicks your movements, rapidly grabbing your hands to make you look at him. His eyes are expressive, a mixture of fear and hope swirling in his dark irises. "I wake up everyday, and you're the first thing I think of. I go on about my day, and I keep thinking about you, wondering what you're doing and counting down the hours until I get to see you again. I spend every night dreaming about you, and when we'e together, the only thing I can think about is how I wish I could stop time so I don't have to say bye to you the next morning. ____, I-"

"Jungkook, stop please." you shake your head, pushing away from him and in desperate need of air. You press a hand against your chest, beating back the throb of pain while the other curls in a tight fist, the feeling of your fingernails digging into your palm less painful than the ache inside your heart. "This... This wasn't supossed to happen, Jungkook." you start pacing around the room, as if trying to find an exit while avoiding his gaze. "This was just a summer fling. That's all it was, I'm supposed to come back to the city in two weeks and-"

"A summer fling?" a sardonic sneer comes out of him. "Oh my God, I can't believe this is happening again..." he mumbles to himself before rising from the bed. You stop immediately, a shiver quaking through you as his impressive frame intimidates His eyebrows are drawn together and his dark eyes are void of any prior emotion. "You're going back to the city in two weeks? And you didn't care to tell me until now, after I just spilled my guts to you?"

You eyes fill up with uncomfortable tears, reaching one arm towards him. "Jung-"

He flinches, taking one step back. "A summer fling is all I mean to you?"

"Ju- "

"Look me in the eyes, right now, and tell me that's all I mean to you. A summer fling." panic crawls up your throat. There's the need within you to confirm, to stare into his beautiful and stern eyes and tell him that, yes, that's all he is to you. But you've never been a good liar. So nothing comes out. You opt for wrapping your ams around yourself wishing they were his and lowering your eyes to the ground. "I think... I think you should leave."

Those are the last words he says to you, and the last thing you see when you turn around one more time after gathering your clothes, is his back as he looks out the window.

You allow yourself to cry the exact moment you step into Chaelin's apartment. Your friend is sitting on the couch, bowl of cereal in hand and a fresh cup of coffee sitting on the livingroom's table.

"Hey, you're early tod- Baby, what's wrong?"

"Please, don't laugh."

That morning, you lay down for hours on the couch with your head on Chaelin's lap while she softly brushes your hair as you cry, hiccup, fight through the pain in your heart and relate to her as best as you can the latest events.

She doesn't laugh at all.

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"She'll come back." Mijoo's slurred words do nothing to put Jungkook's state at ease that night. He simply shrugs, fingers clenching at his sides, frowing into his drink before gulping down the bitter taste of vodka in one shot. "Seriously, I think she's just afraid. My ex was the same."

"Comparing her to your ex is not the analogy you think it is."

"Ugh, shut up. Things didn't work with my ex because she was a bitch." Jungkook gives Mijoo a pointed look which she responds to by rolling her eyes and sipping on her rum coke. "Your girl is not a bitch. She used to be a bitch. What she did this morning was bitchy, but, like I said, she's just being a pussy. If she only wanted sex with you, she wouldn't have been doing couple stuff with you the entire summer."

"Whatever. I don't care." he lies and Mijoo knows he's lying but decides to drop the subject fo now.

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"We can't keep spending our days smoking weed." Chaelin speaks over Blanche's voice on the TV.

"I know. I'm just sad."

"You have to come back and tell him how you feel."

"I know."

There's a beat of silence before your friend kicks your thigh with her feet.

"I know and I will." you mumble through red eyes and smoke clouds.

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It's September first and it doesn't feel like Jungkook's birthday at all. He's been trying to focus on his work, alternating between isolating in full hermit mode and hanging out with friends to drink away his sorrow. The days have gone by and before he could realize it, he woke up today with over twenty text messages wishing him a happy day and a throbbing hangover.

He dresses up on autopilot. First a cotton shirt, then a pair of jeans and lastly, his Nike's. He doesn't bother tying his sneakers just like he doesn't bother taking a shower. He smokes a cigarette for breakfast, the death stick making him feel nauseaus on an empty stomach. And then he goes to work.

He's been repeating the same routing for the past weeks and he's not thinking of changing it, not even on his bithday.

He spends hours drawing, tattooing and drawing some more between yawns. He ignores texts an phone calls and simply waits until the day is over to go home, go to bed and forget about the fact that you're probably on your way to the city and that he hasn't crossed your mind not even once.

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Inkphoria.

You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping cup of ice cream as it melts down your fingers the more you wait. The shop is already empty and it's starting to darken out side, and still you're so hot. Your shorts are heavy and your tank top is sticking to your skin. You didn't even bother to put on any make, although your eyebags definitely needed some concieling and your lashes some dimension to hide the fact that you'd been crying for the last few days.

'You're crazy about him.'

Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.

You've lost count of how many times your best friend has given your advice, or simply encouraged you to do something you've been too scared to try.

'And he's cazy about you too.'

Chaelin might be wrong about marmite and the movie Cats, but she's definitely now wrong about anything regarding your and Jungkook.

That's it. You briefly close your eyes, inhale a deep breath then release it slowly. You start walking. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing the door open.

The tattoed blonde looks up from the counter the second you come into view. She smiles at the distance between you two. "You can come closer. I won't bite."

You clear your throat, stalking closer to her. "Is he-"

"He's in the back." she replies before you can finish you question. You close your mouth, clear your throat and nod your head.

"Thanks, Mijoo." she gives you a small wink, her smile easing your nerves like she had three months ago.

She watches you disappear. She shakes he head, her smile meeting her eyes. "I told him so."

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Jungkook ignores the knock on his door at first. It's almost ten and the parlor is about to close. He just has to finish this last fucking sketch so he can grab his shit and go the fuck ho-

Knock knock.

He growls, exhasperation cursing through him. He runs a hand through his messy pile of hair, his rings tangling between the strands, making him wince in pain. "Come in." he grunts under his breath. The door opens. "Mijoo, I really have to finish-"

He stops dead in his tracks as soon as he sees you.

"Hey." you say after a moment of hesitation.

"Hey." he replies and although there's something inside, deep in his chest, shouting at him to stand up, run up to you and kiss your face while he tells you how beautiful you look right now and how happy he is to see that you're still here, he decides against it. "Listen, ____, I'm pretty busy-"

"No, you listen to me." you cut him off abruptly. He looks taken aback and is already opening his mouth to say something, but you're not having it. "Please, just... Let me talk."

Silence looms between the two of you for a while, a staring contest defying each other to back down. When you take one step inside and close the door behind you, he sighs and leans back against his chair.

You move towards him slowly, your lip caught between your lip going through your mind for the speech you'd been preparing the last few days. Your hands are sticky due to the the sugary treat liquifying in your hand. "I know there's no reason you should give me another chance after rejecting you in high school, and there's definitely no reason why you should forgive me for the way I shut you out a few weeks ago. You've been confessing your feelings to me since we were teenagers, and now it's my turn to tell you exactly how I feel about you."

"Jungkook, the truth is... I like you so much. I like you more than I've ever liked anyone. Ever. I said this was just a summer fling, and I was lying. I was lying because there's no way a simple summer fling could make me feel the way you do. There's no way a simple summer fling could make me want not just summer with you, but also fall and winter, and spring and every summer that comes next."

You hadn't realize when your eyes filling up with tears until the sight of him starts blurrying in front of you. His fingers reach yours, his thumb comforting on your skin. "____, it's okay-"

"I'm not done yet." you sniffle, gathering enough courage to continue. "I brought you a lemon sherbet because you said it was your favourite. But you also implied I was your favourite, and I want to keep being you favourite, but now it's already melted and-"

The corners of Jungkook's lips start pulling upward as he tugs you towards him, his heart loudly jumping inside his chest. "Shhh, come here."

He takes the ice cream from your hand and places it on his desk. Then he's helping you onto his lap, your head tucked under his chin and your arms wapping on their own around his neck.

He doesn't care about your sticky fingers or the wet stains of your tears in his shirt. The only thing he cares about is the fact that you're right there, letting him engulf your frame and drown in the scent and warmth he'd misses so much.

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The first day of June has Jungkook sweating and wishing for a haircut. Jungkook usually hates summer. He hates the fact that he has to shower at least twice a day, and the fact that the heat is almost unbearable to sleep in and also the fact that he's easily sunburnt.

This year, however, Jungkook likes summer a little bit more.

"Excuse me, miss. Do you have an appointment?" it's the fact that you're starting to wear those summer dresses he loves so much, and the fact that your skin glows under the sun like glitter, and also the fact that he can lick ice cream off of it whenever he desires.

"I am the appointment." your giggle is almost childlike, playing with Jungkook's heart strings. You shut the door behind you, nearing him. You also seem to always have that flush on your cheeks. Although he likes to think part of it is due to him. He doesn't say anything else as he puts his pencil down and instead turns around in the chair to have you immediately on top of his thighs.

Yeah, he also likes the path your lips trace from his cheek, to his jaw, ending at the juncture between his neck and his shoulder. It still makes his body quaver to this day.

"Let me see." he murmurs against you forhear, his hand already working on unbottoning the front of your dress.

"Mijoo hasn't left yet." you whisper back, your smile impossible to supress and the faint whimper impossible to hide when his fingers expose your breast and tug at the titanium barbell adorning the already hardened nub.

Jungkook loves knowing he was the one to do that, and also the only one to play with it. He doesn't hesitate when he dips his head. "As if we'd ever cared about that." he adds, wrapping your sole point in his mouth.

He fucks you on his studio table with your legs around his waist and his tongue playing with both your breasts, the tattoo sketches long forgotten, scattered on the floor as he whispers against your flesh something that sounds a lot like 'I love you'.