#but i’m just not satisfied with the product right now

[yesmansyesman]

Fanfiction added (Yes Man x Reader)

AN UNUSUAL NEW UPDATE

[ Includes ]

Wireplay (Sort of?)

Filthy, filthy smut

Dub con (I guess?)

Really, really enthusiastic con the immediate next line

Overstimulation

Robophilia

[ Read at your own discretion! ]

[ Heavily inspired by this AO3 Fanfiction]

It was a relatively slow day at the Lucky 38. Well, as slow as things can be around here. You’d sent Yes Man out on a small quest on your behalf; getting rid of some remaining Caeser’s Legion members hiding out in Freeside.

It wouldn’t be even remotely challenging for the both of you, especially compared to the other things you’d fought in the wasteland. Compared to an army of charging Deathclaws, a couple of Rome cosplayers were trivially easy to deal with. So, you sent Yes Man out by himself. It would simply be more efficient. 

Quest completed

PICKING OFF STRAGGLERS 

Ah, speak of the devil.

Almost like clockwork, the doors to the Lucky 38 swung open, a blood-soaked Yes Man entering the building. Needless to say from his now crimson chassis, the mission was a success. 

“Hello Courier! I’m glad to say the last few members of Caeser’s Legion have been properly dealt with!”

“I could tell. You might want to clean yourself off, bud. Dried blood doesn’t come out too easily.”

Yes Man inspected his dark red chassis, examining his arms, coated in dried blood.

“That sounds like a great idea!”

Yes Man began to make his way to a backroom in the Lucky 38, when he suddenly paused, and turned to face you.

“Oh, I almost forgot! On the way, I also paid a visit to Mick & Ralph’s!”

A hidden compartment revealed itself on Yes Man’s chassis with a satisfying hiss and click, as he reached inside, unveiling a slightly rusted holodisk. It looked fairly normal on the outside, only with a small label plastered on; ‘From, Ralph’.

“A man in a Buffalo Check shirt gave me this; he told me he’d ‘heard about how things turned out for you’ and asked me to help him deliver this! I’m not sure what it does, but boy, does it sound interesting!”

“Interesting, indeed. I’ll have Raul take a look at this.”

“That sounds like a great idea! Now if you’ll excuse me, I need to be thoroughly scrubbed down! Really, really thoroughly!”

Quest added

TALK TO RAUL

“Hey boss, how can I help ya?”

You passed over the holodisk, placing it gently on his desk. 

“Could you help me take a look at this?”

“Sure thing. I’ll see what I can do.”

He delicately picked up the holodisk, examining it closely. Inspecting the label, still on the device.

“Ah, from Mick & Ralph’s, I see.”

Raul lightly dusted the holodisk, before loading it into the personal terminal located on his desk. With a few swift clicks on his keyboard, the screen lit up, green text rapidly loading onto the display. He read the gibberish on the screen carefully, like it was a language only he could understand.

“Luckily for me, it ain’t some kind of malware.”

“Then, what is it?”

“It looks like some package of code intended for Securitrons. It’s not even anything major by the looks of it, just changes up some button inputs.”

Raul scrolled through the brief paragraph of code, discovering more text, this time actually understandable, product information, it seemed. Raul read through it thoroughly, scoffing when he finished. He rotated the terminal, facing the CRT monitor towards you.

“Boss, they wrote down what this thing does right here. Come and take a look, I think you’ll be… interested.”

Quest completed

TALK TO RAUL

Quest added

READ THE FOOTNOTES

Quest completed

READ THE FOOTNOTES

Quest added

INSTALL THE DISK

“Courier, are you sure about this?”

“Yes Man, I promise you; this holodisk won’t affect your personality in any way, and if you feel otherwise, you can always tell me to stop. You had that personality upgrade installed for a reason, right?”

“I-I’m not telling you to stop! I just sure hope you know what you’re doing, because you aren’t, this Securitron body may self-destruct! And that would be bad, really bad.”

“Trust me, I know what I’m doing.”

You carefully installed the holodisk. Yes Man’s, unlike other Securitrons, circuits were haphazardly placed all over the inside of his chassis. Whatever Benny did to him, he sure did it messily. Eventually, however, after working through piles of unsorted wires and mismatched machinery, the disk was installed. With a brief system reboot, Yes Man had been successfully updated.

Quest completely

INSTALL THE DISK

Quest added

UPGRADE PLAYTEST

“Hm, that’s odd. I don’t feel any different. Or explosive. Well, that’s a good sign!”

“Not so fast, Yes Man. There’s still one more thing I need to do. I need to see if the upgrade works as intended.” “Sounds interesting! How may I help you with that?”

“Don’t worry, just stand still. You’ll find out what that holodisk does very, very soon.”

Gently, you lead your hand towards Yes Man’s keypad. You deftly place a finger on a key, pressing it before he had a chance to react. 

“O-oh!”

“How was it?”

“D-do that again…please?”

“Sure thing, big guy.”

Click!

“A-ah!”

Click!

“Ngh-!”

Click!

“M-mph!”

Yes Man was losing his composure more and more with each deft click, his antenna spinning rapidly and a cool layer of condensation forming on his display. Of course, how could he have forgotten, Mick & Ralph’s had experience working on robots before with Fisto, didn’t they? Of course their idea of an upgrade would be… this.

Not that he was complaining, though.

“W-wow! That feels really, really good…”

You carelessly push a few buttons all at once.

“H-Hah-!”

There you go, just let me hear those beautiful noises.

“O-oh! S-six!”

You decide to go all in, discarding any resemblance of self-control. Using and holding as many keys as your fingers could reach. 

“O-oh my-y-!”

“Having fun, bud?”

“I-I love you I love you I love you-!”

"I'll take that as a yes."

Yes Man’s vocal processor was being pushed to its limits, the audio scratched and staticy as Yes Man wore his metaphorical throat out singing moans of pleasure, screaming to the heavens above. His display was drenched in condensation as water droplets visibly dripped down his chassis. The tornado-like buzz of cooling fans were the only other audible noise amongst the squeals of pure ecstasy.

“Y-you’re my everything-g-g-g-!”

“Glad to hear it. You ready?”

“P-p-please!” Silly boy, his processors were already turning into melted plastic from the overstimulation.

“I’ll just press one more button, alright?”

“P-please please please please-!”

Click!

Quest completed

UPGRADE PLAYTEST

Quest added

CRASH LANDING

Quest completed

CRASH LANDING

“Yes Man? You there, bud?”

“W-what?”

“Oh thank god, you’re still alive.”

“Oh, hello Courier!”

Yes Man scanned his surroundings, having woken up on the floor of Raul’s workshop. His circuits were exposed, connected by several multi-coloured wires to a terminal being manned by the mechanic himself. He must’ve crashed. 

“Luckily for you, your main circuits aren’t badly damaged. You just blew a few fuses.”

“Wow! That was… sure some upgrade!”

“Some upgrade, indeed.”

You deftly place a hand on his keypad, with a touch so feathery light that it didn’t manage to push down on any of the keys, but merely tease him with the warmth radiating for your hand. A sensation he could barely even feel, but felt so, so good.

“So, how about a round two?”

“Y-yes please!”

Raul scoffs, turning off his terminal and unplugging the several cords connected to it. He lifts himself out of his chair with a grunt, and makes his way to the door.

“I’ll let you two do your thing then, boss.”

Quest added

JUST A FEW MORE ROUNDS

#fallout #fallout companions #fallout new vegas #yes man fallout #yes man #fnv #fnv courier #fallout nv #new vegas #courier 6 #courier six #fnv yes man #yes man fnv #raul tejada #lucky 38 #yes man x reader #yes man x y/n #no y/n #self insert #smut #self indulgent #wireplay #wire play #??? i think #maybe its buttonplay or smth #filthy thoughts #overstim kink #dubc0n #? i guess #but really really enthusiastic con like one line later soooo

[kicktwine]

Although - let me premise. I like Lyse. I don’t think Conrad choosing her to lead the resistance was earned, it felt very fast and a bit out of nowhere because she’s not a leaderly type and the traits she gained were in Doma (he didn’t see that happen), but you actually don’t have to change anything major to fix or at least better it in my brain, you just need to swap around some dialogue. Don’t have him talk to you about choosing her, have her take the reins herself or with encouragement when he dies. thassit I think itd give her some je ne sais quoi

#play game #stormblood #stormblood spoilers #ffxiv spoilers #I was right stormblood tries to handle two big things at once and is a bit misbalanced with how much time they both need to really hit #but it’s really doing the most with what it’s working around #it has limitations and put its shoulders back and rammed into them and it’s like getting bruised but it’s still doing good things #I think it just gets a bit panicked about how its pacing is going and tries to fix it in the moment — but it needed to stretch the fix out #which may be a multiple writers thing? I’m unsure idk about the production. #SORRY FOR BEING A STORY GUY IM SORRY but no it’s doing great cohesion things and great engagement things they really got the #linear quest-to-quest feeling good enough that I know when I Can stop but I don’t Want to #I would have spoken more about the other expansions while they were happening (arr specifically) but I wasn’t Engaged then. And I AM engage #now; which is making me Think Things. I think the fact that I can pick up on what exactly is wrong instead of just going (??????????) #is a point for sb and hw and a point away from arr base patch #no anyways. and we didn’t need to spend quite so much time at the ruby sea. ANYWAYS- #LYSE COULD BE A LEADER. That’s what her arc has been leading to. it’s just that the shoehorned way the concept is named is not satisfying

[saetoru]

✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。TANGLED — GETO SUGURU.

contents. just suguru needing his hair brushed for him bc he’s def so me and gets mad over the knots lol—alternative title: princess suguru and his frog <3

suguru huffs in front of your mirror—and it’s quite the frustrated huff, too—before he slams the hair brush down.

you raise a brow, “you okay over there?”

“no. ‘s knotted,” he mutters, referring to his hair. there’s a quiet grumbling of something unintelligible under his breath before he glares at himself in the mirror.

suguru loves his hair—anyone would know that just by looking at him. most guys use two-in-one shampoo (like satoru) but suguru? he practically hogs your shower space with all of the products he owns. his hair is well maintained and perfectly neat every time you see him. but sometimes, like now, it’s also a pain to brush once it’s knotted. and, well, he doesn’t handle it very well.

“you’ve been brushing for—” you pretend to check your bare wrist for the time, “—like ten minutes,” you giggle.

“very funny,” he grunts bitterly. and then, more petulantly this time, “i’m cutting it off for real this time.”

“you said that last time,” you remind him, eyes glinting with amusement.

“this time i mean it.”

“no you don’t, sugu.”

“i do,” he insists, glaring at you through the mirror, “it’s getting too long, and i don’t have the time to brush all these damn knots every two hours. so, it’s getting cut.”

“okay,” you nod casually—anyone can tell you don’t believe him.

his expression sours. suguru gets in very bad moods when his hair doesn’t cooperate, it’s evident in the way he flares his nostrils and scowls.

“you still don’t believe me? i’m being serious.”

“okay, baby,” you snort, finally deciding to take matters into your own hands as you rise from your bed and walk over. you stand behind him, reaching around him for the hair brush before gently pulling him back to stand closer. “i’ll get it for you, don’t worry. wouldn’t want your princess hair gone.”

“stop calling it that,” he groans, but the tension leaves his shoulders as soon as you gently brush through his strands, starting at the bottom and working your way up. it’s quiet for a bit—nothing but the soft sound of your humming as you work through the tangles in his long (perfect) hair.

“you could’ve just asked if you wanted me to brush it,” you tease after a few moments, “no need to throw a tantrum.”

“glad to see you’re enjoying this,” he rolls his eyes. and then, when you’ve finished and set the brush down, he turns to face you, wrapping his arms around your waist as his face finds the crook of your neck.

you hum, pecking the side of his head before threading your fingers into his dark locks, stroking through the soft strands and silently marveling at the length.

“you’re so pretty, suguru,” you murmur, “did’ya know that?”

“oh yeah?” he chuckles into your skin, lips curling into a loose smile. his arms tighten around you, pulling you impossibly closer.

“yeah,” you nod, “like a princess. my prettiest princess.”

“i thought i told you to quit with that,” he says exasperatedly—you can feel the heat from his cheeks, and you grin to yourself knowing he’s blushing as he hides his face deeper into your shoulder.

“it’s true,” you insist, “i’m no liar. i’m a truther.”

“debatable,” he mumbles. you smack his shoulder playfully, and he squeezes your hips in response. “aren’t you going to tie it for me too?” he finally asks, and you’re sure there’s a pout curled on those lips of his. you ache to kiss them—and you will, just not right now.

right now, you’ll stay like this a bit longer.

“this is real princess treatment,” you sigh dramatically, “yes your highness. i’ll tie it too.”

“thank you,” he says, thoroughly satisfied. and then, quieter, like it’s a secret only you’re supposed to know, “i love you.”

“i love you too,” you happily murmur, “but that might change if you cut your hair.”

“are you only dating me for my hair?”

“yes,” you snicker playfully, “it’s the main appeal. the princess appeal.”

“you know what,” suguru says thoughtfully, “i’ll be your princess.”

“really?” you gasp in excitement, making him nod into your neck as he presses a delicate kiss to your skin.

“sure,” he grins slyly, “and you can be the frog.”

the moment is officially ruined—and for a second, you think you might just have to cut his hair off in his sleep after that one.

come join me in the most self indulgent drabble once again. also the title being tangled even tho the reference is the princess and the frog is a tad bit funny to me jdjsjd i did giggle i can’t lie

#teepods.writings #drabbles. #geto x reader #geto x y/n #geto x you #geto fluff #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jjk fluff #geto suguru x reader #geto suguru x you #geto suguru fluff #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff

[scribblesandsherlock]

Once Upon a Time

Mike Schmidt x babysitter!f!reader

Word Count: 1864

Summary: Like all other imagines go, ever since Mike hired you as Abby’s babysitter, you’ve made their life so much more fun. Today’s fun? Playing fairy tales with Abby. Mike thinks it’s hilarious until he’s suddenly brought into production…

• • •

There was a satisfying ‘click’ when Mike turned the key. With one little shove, the door was open and he could breathe again. Another rough shift at work, but he was so grateful to be home. Where he could relax and just unwind…

And then he heard giggling. And he had the sinking feeling this was not going to be an “unwind” kind of day. What kind of mischief was Abby getting into now? Although, he much preferred hearing her laughter over the silence he used to get. Ever since he hired that new babysitter, Abby’s brightened up a lot. So, despite the drowsy drooping over his shoulders, he smiled as he shut the door behind him.

“Hey, I’m home!” He called out.

“We’re in here!” Your voice replied, making his smile twitch just a bit wider without him meaning to. You were such a saint. After what happened with the last babysitter, he thought he wouldn’t find another half as good, but you surpassed any and all expectation. Once he got the ball rolling better with work, he’d pay you. Soon.

“What on earth…” Mike’s voice trailed off when he saw what was going on in Abby’s room.

Lights were strung about, a great big fort connected to the ceiling and strung down like a canopy. With the use of cardboard, paper, and markers, the fort was surrounded by fake towers and what he assumed was a moat. And under the strung-up blankets were two familiar faces with paper crowns.

“We’re playing fairy tales,” You quickly explained, feeling the urge to take off the crown. You hadn’t felt self-conscious when it was just you and Abby, but when a cute guy looks at you? That’s a whole different thing. The embarrassment only worsened when you saw him stifle a laugh. Crap, what could he be thinking right now?

If only you knew that he thought you both made the cutest sight he'd ever seen.

"If we're going to do Snow White, we need an apple." Abby turned to you, refusing to let Mike ruin your fun together. She was not done playing. In fact, seeing the two of you looking at each other gave her a little idea...

"I'll go get the apple." You stepped over the cardboard towers and paper moat to head to the kitchen, "I'll be in the kitchen."

"Right behind ya," Mike added as he shrugged off his jacket.

You quickly took the crown off and set it down before going to the counter. You rummaged through the bowl of fruit, going past bananas and pears to find what you wanted.

Mike pulled out a Gatorade from the fridge, "Heh, thanks again for this. You have no idea what a difference you've made to Abby."

"Oh it's nothing. She's a lot of fun." You reassured him.

"I promise I'll pay you as soon as my check comes in, this isn't going to be the usual. You know, if, uh, you still want to continue this. I get it if you don't. You're not obligated to keep coming..." He was rambling now. He hadn't gotten like this since high school. Sheesh, what was going on with him? He reached up and adjusted his shirt's collar. It was getting warm in here all of a sudden.

"Mike, stop. You're completely fine. I'm happy to be here. After all, what are neighbors for?"

He shrugged. He'd just gotten so used to you being here, so quick. You fit right in. Looking back on it, the house used to feel so empty. Abby used to go to her room and just draw by herself. Mike would go to bed early or watch a couple shows on TV. Now, there was so much light and laughter brought in. He barely recognized his life anymore. He really hoped this was a sign for better days.

"Ah! Here we are, a classic red apple. I better not keep the princess waiting." You teased and started heading back to Abby's room, with a little skip in your step. But to your surprise, upon entering in, you saw Abby wearing her darkest purple blanket over her head like a cloak.

"I don't remember Snow wearing anything that dark."

"I'm not going to be Snow, you are." Abby told you and hurried to take the apple from you, "I got to be the princess the last two times. It's your turn."

You hadn't realized you were taking turns but okay.

"Where is your crown?" Abby squinted at you and made a face, "Mikeee! (Y/n) needs her crownnn!"

"Where is it?" He hollered from the other room.

"I left it on the counter!" You rose your voice, trying not to laugh. What has your life become? You felt like a Mom or something. And hey, you kind of liked it. Even though this wasn't your blood family or anything, you'd gotten real close with Mike and Abby. You just felt so comfortable with them.

Mike came back and briefly held up the crown, "Alright, where's the princess?"

Your face reddened and you sheepishly held up your hand, "Here."

He nodded and strolled over, briefly standing on his tip-toes to set it dramatically over your head, earning giggles from his sister. But just before he went to leave, Abby grabbed his arm and pulled him back.

"Don't go yet, I want you to watch!"

"Watch?" You echoed and your heart dropped to your stomach. Yeah, you were doing this for the kid, but you felt so shy playing pretend in front of Mike.

"Oh, alright, I'd be happy to watch." To your horror, Mike plopped down into the chair by Abby's desk and folded his arms. A big smile on his face.

Your eye twitched at the cocky little gesture. Oh, he was loving this, wasn't he? You didn't know if that was better or worse. But you tried to put it out of your mind when Abby got into character. She came up in her makeshift cloak,

"The evil witch approaches and knocks on Snow White's door..." Abby narrated before knocking on one of the blankets, pretending there was a thudding sound.

You stepped inside the fort then immediately poked your head out, forcing your gaze on Abby instead of Mike's amused face in the corner, "Hello?"

"Hello, young lady..." Abby ironically croaked, despite being many years younger than you, "I am giving out free apples. Would you like one?"

You heard muffled laughter again. Well, you weren't going to let him get to you. If he was going to pay you someday, you were going to earn every penny. He wanted a performance? Alright, here we go.

"Oh, how lovely! Of course!" You reached for it and held it to your mouth before taking a big bite.

"Muahaha! My plan is all coming together!" Abby rubbed her hands together and burst into a fit of mischievous giggles—that sounded a little too convincing for half a second.

"Oh no! I feel strange!" You held a hand to your head then spun around before making a dramatic 'fall' back onto the floor, bending your knees at the right second so the impact wouldn't be so bad. Besides, there were so many scattered pillows around, it wasn't harsh at all.

"Oh, bravo! Great job." Mike chuckled and clapped before starting to get up from his seat.

"Hey! The story isn't over!" Abby pointed a finger at him, "This part is important! I need your help!"

"Wait, what?"

"Snow White needs a handsome prince to wake her up." Abby explained and took off the cloak. She reached to the side for the crown she had made for herself, and handed it to Mike, "Your turn."

You had been pretending to be asleep but now your eyes were wide open. You started to sit up, "Oh, Abby, that's not necessary--"

Ohh it suddenly wasn’t so funny anymore. Was it, Mike? “Yeah, I'm really not an actor. You guys have fun, I'll just prepare dinner..."

But Abby wasn’t having it. She pointed to you first, “No! You! Lay back down! And you! Prince!”

Mike blinked down at his sister, but…apparently he didn’t have the strength to turn her down. He sighed and put the crown on his head. You honestly couldn’t believe it.

You slowly lowered back to the ground and closed your eyes. Not like you weren’t kind of hoping for a kiss from Mike one of these days, but you couldn’t say this is the way you expected to have your first one.

It certainly wasn’t the way Mike planned it, either. He had expected he’d finally get up the courage to ask you on a date. After he’d gotten around to paying you and proved he was in a better situation. But as soon as Abby found out of his crush on you, she had to push this to go a little quicker. He just had to hope he didn’t die of embarrassment in the process.

Abby took off her cloak and let out a gasp, “Oh no! My friend, Snow White is hurt! Help! Help! Prince Charming, come help!”

Mike sighed and walked over, “What’s wrong?”

“The princess has been poisoned! She needs true love’s kiss to wake her up!” Abby held her hands together and looked up at him with expectation.

“Abby, you really don’t expect me to—“ But the look she gave him told him she was serious. Was this really happening? Why didn’t he have the courage to tell her no?

He got down on his knees and looked over your features. He couldn’t tell but you were just as panicked about this. Your heart was pounding like crazy. What was he going to do? Maybe he’d kiss your forehead or your cheek. Something light just to say he did it. But no. When Mike lowered himself near to you, you were surprised by the touch of his lips. The soft scratch of his stubble. His breath was warm on your skin and made your heart flutter. This wasn’t the way you both had planned it, but it was a beautiful first kiss together.

Of course you both didn’t go crazy, Abby was right there, but it was a lingering kiss. Soft and sweet. Mike was surprisingly gentle. But just before you both could get used to it…

“Yay! The princess is saved!” Abby threw up her hands and giggled.

You both broke apart and nervously chuckled at the same time. You decided to speak first before it got awkward.

“Thank you so much for saving me!”

“Of course.” Mike dutifully bowed his head like a prince would, briefly licking his lips.

“Now the prince carries Snow White off into happily ever after!” Abby beamed.

“Heh, alright. Right this way, princess.” Mike gently scooped you up into his arms and rose to his feet with no issue. Wow, he was strong…

“Off to happily ever after?” You giggled and wrapped your arms around his neck.

“Off to the spaghetti and meatballs I’m making for dinner.” He replied.

You held a hand to your chest and laughed heartily, “Oh, my hero!”

The end.

#mike schmidt fnaf #mike schmidt fanfiction #mike schmidt #josh hutcherson #fnaf fanfiction #mike schmidt imagine #Mike schmidt one-shot #mike and Abby Schmidt #mike schmidt fluff #Mike schmidt x reader #mike schmidt x you #mike schmidt x y/n

[gi4hao]

☆ dino x gn!reader — domestic fluff!

☆ from repairing a sink to love confessions on the kitchen floor

9pm is right around the corner, and you know for a fact that your boyfriend is far from being done with repairing the leak under your kitchen sink. but of course he won’t accept defeat, which is why you resorted to having dinner on the floor, sat next to him to keep him company.

“you really should go lie down on the couch” chan tells you from beneath the sink, his voice muffled and punctuated by the clinks of his tools. “this isn’t good for your back.”

he’s not wrong, this position is definitely not the comfiest even though you managed to rest against a piece of furniture. but the view isn’t so bad here, you think to yourself, contently watching his arms flex as he twists and tightens metal pieces here and there.

“but if i leave who’s going to feed you those baby tomatoes?” you ask, looking at the half-eaten bowl in front of you.

putting his tools down, he emerges from under the sink with a contented sigh, stretching his limbs as he sits upright. “you’re such a simp” he chuckles, yet still gladly opens his mouth for you to throw yet another tomato inside.

with an exaggerated scoff, you put a hand over your heart in mock offense: “excuse me? says the biggest simp ever?”

the thing is, you don’t even mind being called a simp; you’re lucid enough to know that it’s only the truth. similarly, chan doesn’t mind it either, but it’s just so much more entertaining to deny and act like it offends him.

“if there’s a simp in this room it’s definitely you. and allow me to tell you why…” you tell him as he returns to the small confined space below your countertop.

you don’t even have to make an effort to gather your thoughts, countless examples just flow naturally into your brain: “first of all, you always carry me on your back when we’re walking back home from a party. you kiss me goodbye every morning even when i’m still asleep. you have a picture of me in your wallet, i’m your phone and ipad wallpaper. also, you keep a secret box on your side of the closet where you put all the receipts from our dates…”

a few seconds of silence follow your words.

when you lean to your side to finally catch a glimpse of your quiet boyfriend, it turns out he’s looking right back at you, a surprised expression painted on his face: “i didn’t know you knew about the box.”

suddenly, he gets the funny sensation that you’re definitely going to win this round.

“i know many things” you affirm, a satisfied smile on your lips as you keep going: “i know that you always keep one of my doodles in your phone case. i know that you bought duplicates of my skincare products to keep in your car as an emergency kit. and i also may or may not have heard you talk to seungkwan about me…”

this time, it’s a loud bang that comes to punctuate your sentence. but before you can even start to worry, chan yells a reassuring “i’m okay!” before getting out of there once again, “just dropped my tool, that’s all. but now let’s circle back to what you just said…”

with a chuckle, you notice a slight embarrassment spreading on his face, his cheeks turning a familiar shade of pink.

your relationship has never been a secret, so it wasn’t a surprise to know that he likely spoke about you to the other members. however, you hadn’t truly considered the nature of those conversations until a few months ago, when you had sort of eavesdropped on a discussion.

“don’t be embarrassed” you reassure him, a playful spark in your eyes: “it was nice to hear you describe us as a “perfect match” and feeling like “a married couple already, but in the best possible way”.

at this point, his surrender is palpable. “okay, you win. maybe i am a simp,” he concedes, a mixture of defeat and self-consciousness coloring his voice. his shoulders sag slightly, but his gaze is still full of affection. “i can’t deny it anymore. just like i can’t deny that I’m not a handyman. i actually have no idea if I’m fixing this thing or just making it worse.”

“i think it’s time to leave the plumbing to the experts,” you tease, taking the screwdriver out of his hands, “let’s bail on this floor and go cuddle on the couch; i’ll order some proper food.”

with just those words, he flashes you a bright smile, one that you know so well you could sketch it from memory. as he rises to his feet, he looks at you earnestly: “i meant what i said to seungkwan, you know,” he confesses, his voice softer than usual.

you take a brief moment to let his words and his sincerity sink in: “i know, baby,” you reply, your own voice matching his softness as you grab his hand to get up. “and that’s exactly how i feel too.”

his smile grows even bigger, relieved to see that you not only understand the depth of his love for you, but reflect it back to him as well. it’s all he’s ever hoped for, really — to find someone he could trust implicitly, someone he could pour all his love into, knowing it would be returned with the same intensity.

“we really are made for each other,” he states, giving you a proud nod as he pulls you close, arms wrapped around your waist.

“yeah, look at us. in love, both clueless about fixing that sink. perfect match.”

with a heartfelt laugh, chan gently rests his hand on your neck, pulling you closer for a kiss; the kind that lingers for a few more seconds than what you expected. just enough time for the both of you to think about how lucky you are to have found each other in this lifetime.

requests are open!

#can’t believe it’s my first time writing for dino i’m so ashamed #but it’s finally here!!!!! #dinonaras rejoice!!!! #seventeen imagines #seventeen x reader #seventeen fluff #dino x reader #dino fluff #dino imagines #svt x reader #svt imagines #svt fluff

[milksockets]

why scan?

scanning is something i've done for probably about 12 years now (i'm ancient, for this site), with varying degrees of regularity, intensity, etc. it has ratcheted up since the dawn of 2023, though, which begs the question: why? why put so much time into what could not-wrongly be considered a passive activity, hunched over a piece of clunky machinery with the express purpose of preserving others' creations? the answers are several, and fascinating (not really).

i am a [sober] drug addict. anything i pursue, consume, create--more often than not--ends up taking on addictive qualities. i'll eat the same specific food item for a month, then never want to see, let alone taste it, again. i'll listen to one song on repeat for days until i'd rather hear nails on a chalkboard than have it shuffle on and assault my ears. one of the reasons that my scanning has increased in volume recently is that i acquired library cards to the 3 nyc library systems: nypl, brooklyn, and queens. as soon as i was able to, i pillaged + plundered those fine centers of learning, leaving any given library with as many hefty scan-worthy books as i could [barely] carry. here, finally, was a *free* way of obtaining more + more + more visual media to consume.

2023 saw me get my first legal, full-time job. as such, my adjusting to that hellish reality resulted in a steep decline in my own personal creative output. collaging, writing, and rapping all fell to the wayside as i slowly acclimated to a life of work that almost everyone else my age has known for over a decade is generally unbearable + detrimental to the maintenance of outside pursuits. in times of famine within my own artistic harvest, scanning, archiving, and sharing others' work is a means of feeling as though i am still contributing to the global oeuvre.

there’s an element of losing my mental self in a series of physical motions that becomes almost automatic after some time. “zoning out” is not something endemic to my daily life; if anything, i’m almost always too zoned in. relief is necessary.  especially considering the shitshow this past year has been in terms of my personal life.

i am a product of capitalism’s cultivating a craving for constant consumption. 

it seems that visual content is only going to continue to get more + more uninspired. has everything been done? did social media ruin it all? in any case, i feel a need to document the past. to a degree, it’s my version of doomsday prepping. (god forbid books go extinct altogether.) 

i have always gravitated towards solitary activities. this topic could be a thesis in its own right.

i thrive on external validation. this reliance is something i’ve improved upon over the past several years, but it hasn’t been altogether extinguished. even though the materials i scan are not of my own creation, i nevertheless feel a vague pride in showcasing them. occasional appreciation thereof satisfies this fixation on others’ attention, albeit in a diluted form. 

i am fortunate to live in a city bursting to the gills with cultural institutions. i am also lucky enough to have some disposable income that can be directed toward fulfilling my ravenous desire for visual media. 

((i keep getting messages about the specifics of my scanner + "process":

i have a cheap ass hp envy 6055e and i just use the software it comes with.

there's nothing special or fancy happening here, and i could definitely invest in a better and/or a large format scanner, etc. but i really just don't care enough and it's not like i'm getting paid for this lmao))

#words

[makethemhoesmad]

everything shower

paige x reader

🌶️ smut

🫡i wrote this in 25 minutes

“Babee” i hear paige shout from the other room. “In the shower, no you can’t join me i’m shaving and shit!” not surprisingly, i hear the bathroom door open and the curtain is whipped away from covering me in the shower. I look up from my leg, which i was shaving, to see my 5’11 girlfriend pouting like her mom wouldn’t let her buy the toy she wanted at the mall. “Baby, you know i don’t give two flying fucks that you’re shaving, i wanted to join.” I roll my eyes at her, shutting the curtain again. “You can stay in here and talk to me, i’m almost done. then you can make up for being rude to me later.” That shuts her up. I finish up my shower, then go to the vanity to put product in my curly hair, all while very blatantly ignoring my girlfriend. I can feel her eyes burning into me, begging me to acknowledge her need. I leave the bathroom and go to change into my pajamas. Just as i’m leaving the closet, i feel myself being pressed into the wall next to it. 

“look at me baby. look.”

I look

she’s ass naked now, trying to tempt me to give her what she wants. she tucks her knee in between my thighs, pressing it against me. Then, she slides her hand that isn’t holding me to the wall between her own thighs, massaging herself.

“oh, oh that’s good, bet you wish this was you, don’t you gorgeous?”

obviously i wished it was me, but it’s not like i was going to tell her that. i let my eyes wander, titling my head back to stare at the ceiling. The hand she��s using to touch herself quickly moves up to pull my chin down, then my face right to hers. she presses her lips to mine, in an attempt to distract me from the fact that she’s moving us to our bed and climbing on top of me.  Wordlessly, she shuffles down my body and rips off my pajama bottoms and underwear. 

Instead of relentlessly teasing me, like i thought she would, her lips immediately wrap around my clit. Sucking hard, yet again distracting me from anything other than what she was currently doing. I don’t notice she’s removed a hand from my waist until she’s plunging three fingers into me immediately. I gasp out, whining. “Oh, now you want to talk to me baby. Well, this isn’t your choice now, shut it and take what i give you like a good girl.” It takes everything in me not to scream out when my orgasm rips through me and she doesn’t stop. She keeps pushing into me at the same fast, punishing pace, until i lose track of how many times i’ve came and forget the reason i was ignoring paige in the first place. i’m so blissed out i don’t notice when she leaves my pussy and brings her face to mine.

“Say sorry babe, then you can go to bed.”

I look her dead in the eye, spit on her face, then giggle out an “i’m sorry darling”

Face flush with anger, she buries her face into my neck and bites. once she’s satisfied with whatever she’s done, she lays down, pulling me to her chest. 

“I love you beautiful,” she says, crushing her nose into the top of my head. 

i’m asleep before i can say it back

#paige bueckers #uconn huskies #paige bueckers x reader #smut

[netflix]

Spotlight: Adam Stockhausen

Production Designer, The Wonderful Story Henry Sugar

Oscar winning production designer Adam Stockhausen (not pictured above, that’s Benedict Cumberbatch), whose work you may know from Wes Anderson films like The Grand Budapest Hotel, Asteroid City, The French Dispatch, Isle of Dogs, and Moonrise Kingdom, as well as titles like Bridge of Spies, and West Side Story (2021), took the time to answer some questions.

Which details from or aspects of The Wonderful Story Henry Sugar did you focus the most on while adapting it to the screen? How did you meld Roald Dahl and Wes’s worlds?

The details on this one started with Dahl’s writing hut! We matched the details pretty carefully and exactly. As soon as we step outside of the hut though we start to move through the world of the story and the world of the stage at the same time. Wes had the idea of how he wanted to do this from the very beginning. My main challenge was trying to figure out how to pull it off—making the parts move and getting each to have the right detail.

What’s a small change you made on a project that ended up having an unexpectedly significant impact? 

Lots of times this happens—where what seems like a small thing at the time becomes a very significant turning point. I’m in Berlin now writing this and remembering being here scouting for East Berlin for Bridge of Spies. We were struggling to find a section of town that still felt old enough to show the early 60s, and decided to take a chance on a quick search in Poland. That quick search changed the whole production plan and ultimately gave us the look of our East Berlin.

How has technology changed the way you approach your work? 

Technology has definitely changed the way we plan the work. We used to model everything in cardboard or sometimes just plan in two dimensions with pencil and paper. We can now plan in 3-dimensional space using modeling programs and see what real lenses will do.  This allows for more accurate planning and makes scenery moves like the casino set in Henry Sugar possible.

Do you have any signature easter eggs you like to leave? Any small details that you are particularly fond of? 

I wouldn’t say there are easter eggs in this one. But there are loads of special details! I think my favorite might be the levitation boxes where we painted a perspective view of the background onto a prop box. The actor sitting on the box appears to be floating in a very special and theatrical way.

Did you talk about reflecting the iconic Quentin Blake illustrations in production design? How would you go about doing that? 

Not really. They are such incredible drawings and I’d say they’ve been inspiring me since I saw them as a child! But for this the starting point was really the machine Wes devised to move us through the story—and pairing that to specific references scene by scene.

There is such an intentionality to the aesthetics of a Wes world. Is there a set or frame that took you a long time to get perfectly right? 

All of them! It’s a very labor-intensive process getting these frames right. Occasionally one will click right away, but usually it’s a process of refining and refining. The jungle for instance went from sketches to models to samples and back again several times before the final look settled.

If you had to present one frame that showcases the best of your work, what would it be? 

Oh my. Maybe the jungle? I really enjoyed making the jungle!

With all the moving sets in the trailer for The Wonderful Story Henry Sugar, it feels reminiscent of a theatre production. Are there distinct differences in approach between film and theatre and how much do you blur the lines between them in your work? 

I think the lines are blurred completely! Or maybe they aren’t even there. I love that Henry Sugar is so incredibly theatrical in its storytelling.  It allows us to show the artifice of the sets all the time which somehow makes them even more satisfying when they finally do line up and create a complete picture. I think the casino set is a perfect example—the pauses where it all lines up for a second are even more enjoyable because we get to see it broken apart and sliding away.

Thanks, Adam!

#spotlight #entertainment spotlight #adam stockhausen #wes anderson #production design #filmblr #wes weaving #web weaving

[chryblossomjjk]

practice (pt. 3) | jjk

⇢ PAIRING: fuckboy!jk x inexperienced reader

⇢ RATING/GENRE: m/18+ | college au, fwb, smut, fluff, angst

⇢ WC: 12.8k sorry

⇢ WARNINGS: emotional at points, fighting rip, oc lowkey in her villain era, they both say mean things to eachother (nothing tew intense), jk is not a himbo >:(, characters are forced to face their insecurites </3, misunderstandings, finger sucking, oral sex (f and m recieving), 69 action if u squint, brief ass eating, a little manhandling, titty sucking (obvi), flavored lube, butt plug moment, miss hitachi is finally here !!!, unprotected sex, corruption kink, squirting, overstimulation, slight dom jk, a bit of manhandling, praise, creampie, maybe unrequited love, maybe not (lol jk u'll find out), where's waldo but instead of waldo its bam

⇢ SUMMARY: sparks fly as you try to forget about jungkook.

⇢ NOTES: it’s finally here! if you haven't read pt 2 in a while, i'd suggest rereading it before reading this part! maybe even pt 1 bc callbacks. you might miss a few things if you don't. kinda nervy to post this bc everyone was so conflicted. hopefully the ending is satisfying for all. also sorry if the smut is meh, this piece was more plot driven than other things i’ve written. thank you so much for the love and support on this series. seriously cannot thank you guys enough. very bittersweet to be saying goodbye to it but i hope you stick around. love you and as always feedback is v appreciated !! big ty to @floweryjeons for betaing !!

⇢ SERIES MASTERLIST

dumbo do u want lunch? i can drop it off in about 30

You were midway through a three hour lab and you really needed to focus. Unfortunately, the professor’s droning was easily overtaken by incessant vibrating. You peek at your phone with a scoff before shoving it back into your pocket. 

Jungkook doesn’t get the hint.

dumbo i’ll just get the usu

dumbo lol i forget… ur lab is in room 305 in the civic engagement building right?

Room 222 in the science building. You don’t correct him, though. 

It was difficult to ignore the sharp, self-inflicted stabs that pierced through your back whenever he texted you. But you had to rip the bandaid off before it had time to adhere to you entirely. You hadn’t talked to him in days. Not since he lied to you.

Whenever you had the urge to respond, you went through memories. Pictures of him looking unamused, pink pout scrunched up as you smushed his cheeks together. Videos of his nostrils fluttering as blaring snores filled your dorm room; your soft giggles in the background.

Little snapshots of the present that were now the past. 

You were slowly weaning yourself off of Jeon Jungkook.

Your phone goes off again during your break. 

dumbo hey i’ve been waiting for like 20 min

dumbo gonna head out since ur probably caught up. free until about 4 tho so text me if u want anything i’ll come back

dumbo or we can just get something after the showcase?

dumbo are you running late?

dumbo you know it starts at 7p right?

dumbo ik you hate being late so i’m starting to get nervous…

dumbo just let me know that you’re safe please

Those texts were sent nearly three hours ago. You’ve tried to distract yourself with homework, Sailor Moon, and the watermelon mask you were currently washing off your face. Nothing helped. The guilt lingering in your chest was heavy and you wish it would trickle down the drain like the abandoned products. 

You sigh, shaking your hands vigorously to flick off the excess water. A damp knuckle presses your phone screen. It’s 10 p.m. on a Friday. Back at square one. 

The scent of your green tea moisturizer fills your nostrils as you glide the creamy substance over your skin. Fingertips dancing gently across the surface of your plump cheeks. The touch is soft and delicate, just like his was-

Intrusive thoughts make you want to remove your frontal lobe.

You try to remind yourself that although vibrant and dashing, Jungkook was anything but your knight in shining armor. Greedy. Disgusting. Selfish. Just like the rest of the men who tried to conquer the tall brick walls of your heart, mind, and body. 

You look at yourself in the mirror. Despite the brightening mask, your dewy skin was dull. The inner corners of your big eyes were overtaken by winding red branches. The thick black bags under them appear even heftier than your beloved Playboy duffel. Your plump lips are coated in your Laniege lip mask. It’s candy-flavored, but it doesn’t taste as sweet anymore. You look lifeless. 

Did cutting Jungkook off really affect you that badly?

Or perhaps you always looked like this, and the loss of him made you realize how truly gloomy and lackluster things were before.

For the past two months, your reflections were filled with pearly white teeth and crinkled eyes. Being with Jungkook was careless and irresponsible in all the right ways. Whenever you were with him, the negative thoughts that often plagued your mind were forgotten, and you were just… free. 

But look where that got you.

The sound of your phone pinging brings you back to reality. 

dumbo tae said that you’re home with mina…

Taehyung. What a little snitch. You’ll make sure that Mina punishes him adequately. 

dumbo not sure what your deal is but i’m fucking heated

“What do you know, Taehyung?” You sneer his name like a curse; the nasty ‘T’ word.

“I know everything,” he responds nonchalantly, flipping through his absolute mammoth of a textbook. He nods his head toward the guilty party beside him. “Your bestie told me.” 

“Liar!” Mina gasps, smacking his sweater-clad bicep. Her voice lowers immediately when Taehyung shushes her. You were in the library after all. She looks at you exasperatedly. “I didn’t tell him like- ‘everything’ everything.”

“I don’t need to know everything.” He closes the hardcover book gingerly, peering at you over the thick black rim of his glasses. You’re convinced they’re a sham, and he only wears them to look professional and intellectual. “My keen deductive reasoning has led me to the conclusion that this situation is—in fact—fucking ridiculous.”

You gawk at bluntness. “Aren’t you literally studying to be a therapist?” 

“Psychiatrist,” he corrects with a cheesy grin. “I’m allowed to tell you when you’re being childish.”

“Tae, be nice.” Mina warns with a scowl, holding her index finger out right in front of his nose. “I know Jungkook is your friend, but he’s grimy.”

“I swear, I’m not trying to be a dick.”  Taehyung laughs, raising his hands up in surrender. “I’m just giving perspective. I care about you, __.”

“Sure you do.” You answer curtly, rolling your eyes. 

“And-,” Taehyung claps his large palms together, fingertips pointed towards you in an accusatory fashion. “-I know Jungkook better than both of you.” He gestures between you and Mina. “He’s not a bad dude.” 

“He-,”

“He ditched her to go to a party!” Mina beats you to the punch, voice whiny and frustrated. “And lied about it! He’s trash!”

“Thank you, Mina,” you whisper-shout, placing a finger over your lips to remind her, once again, that you were still in the library. As much as you love her, you didn’t necessarily want all of campus knowing your dirty laundry. Your eyes scan the dimly lit room for eavesdroppers. Luckily, it was fairly empty at this time of day. 

“Why don’t you just talk to him?” 

“It’s not that simple, Tae,” you sigh, turning your attention back to the empty word document on your laptop screen. In the twenty minutes you’ve been sitting here, you have only managed to type the essay’s title and your name. Spelled wrong. Sneakily, you correct the typo before anyone notices. 

“Maybe…” Mina starts, lips scrunching to the side in contemplation. She looks at her boyfriend innocently before tucking a loose strand of hair behind his ear. Playing all the right cards. “Maybe… you could talk to him for her? Or do a little snoopy snoop to see what he’s up to?”

“There’s no way in hell I’m playing double agent for you guys.”  

“Come on, Tae!” Mina pouts. “It could be fun!”

“No,” Taehyung laughs, shaking his head. “I refuse to get in the mid-,”

“Hey!” 

Taehyung’s words are cut off by an uncomfortably familiar voice. Its usual soft, playful tone was laced with sternness. The sound makes your spine straighten. 

Jungkook. 

You were so distracted that you hadn’t heard his clunky black boots stomping towards you. The firm grip of tattooed fingers on your shoulder makes you look up. Even under the rim of his bucket hat, you can see the angry stars dancing in his black eyes. They’re hot and scalding with irritation. “Can we talk?”

“About?” You peep in feigned naivety. 

“Oh, please,” he scoffs loudly, laughing in disbelief. The seat beside you is yanked out with a startling screech. Jungkook plops down on it and turns to face you, knees digging into your outer thigh. Always so incredibly close. “Don’t give me that shit-,”

“Jungkook.” Taehyung calls, trying to stifle the bubbling lava in Jungkook’s stomach before he erupts. It was rare to see his happy-go-lucky friend so agitated. “Chill.”

His eyes soften at the warning. It’s like Jungkook hadn’t even registered how angry he had actually become. The entirety of his college experience has been spent distancing anger—and any other negative emotion—so far from his being that he couldn’t even detect the cues anymore. He inhales deeply through his nose, white t-shirt pulling tight at his chest, before exhaling. 

“You good?” Taehyung asks. 

“Yeah, I’m good.” Jungkook nods, bringing a hand up to massage slow circles into his temple. Despite how upset you are with him, the self-soothing mechanism makes your heart ache. “I promise, I’m calm. I just want to talk.”

His pupils dart between the two unmoving figures across from you.

“Alone, please.”

Jungkook and Taehyung lock eyes for a moment, communicating silently through some bro-telepathy that has you and Mina exchanging confused glances. Suddenly, the curly-haired boy nods, collecting his textbook and intertwining his fingers with Mina’s. “Let’s go, babe.”

“Tae, wait!” Mina protests, trying to wriggle out of Taehyung’s grasp. She looks at you apologetically as her boyfriend urges her towards the exit, unable to break free. “Call me after, okay?” She shoots Jungkook a threatening glare before turning away. 

And just like that, you were left alone with the man you’d been avidly avoiding for the past week and a half. 

“Are you mad at me?” Jungkook questions, silver piercing glimmering in the light as he gnaws on his bottom lip. The pink skin under his bunny teeth was already turning red. “Like… did I do something wrong?”

You look everywhere but him, mindlessly scrolling up and down the empty page on your laptop screen. It was a poor attempt to act unbothered, despite the heavy thumping in your chest. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“The showcase?”

“What about it?” 

Jungkook always took your attitude in stride, leveling your petty comments with kisses and playful eyerolls. This eye roll, however, paired with a painfully clenched jaw, is anything but playful. “Quit playing games, __. I’ve had enough,” he grits. 

He never calls you by your name. 

“Playing games,” you echo with a sarcastic laugh. In the pit of your stomach, you can feel the sadness morphing into a fit of heady anger. The words taste vile and sour on your tongue before they’re spewed at him. “That’s rich coming from you.”

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see the puzzled expression on his face. Eyebrow piercing twitching in confusion as the cogs in his brain spin, trying to make sense of your words. “I don’t understand…” 

How does he not understand?

“Why didn’t you come to the showcase?”

You huff out a sigh, gaze fluttering to the ceiling. 

“Answer me,” he urges, leaning forward with his elbows on his knees, clearly trying to shift your attention back onto him. As if that wasn’t what landed you in this position in the first place.

“Jungkook-,” 

Your voice gets caught in your throat when you feel his sharp exhales fan across your cheek. Fast and restless. It makes you miss the deep, peaceful ones he would make when buried under your heavy duvet; hair disheveled from tossing and turning and the brush of your fingers as you lulled him to sleep. His breath smells like toothpaste and vanilla gum. You glance at your taskbar. It’s 12:23 p.m. and he hasn’t eaten yet.

“I didn’t go because this is unproductive,” you sigh, closing your laptop and finally gaining the courage to face the man beside you. “You being in my life is unproductive.” 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Unproductive.” When your eyes meet his big dark ones, you can’t stand them. You can’t stand him for what he’s done, for how he’s turned something so special to you, so ugly. It coaxes that equally ugly, scaly, green defensiveness out of you. You want to retreat, and rebuild the walls higher, so that your emotional security would never be destroyed again. Anyone who threatened it would be burned, including Jungkook, sitting before you with doe eyes as you prepared to breathe fire in his direction. “I know it’s a difficult word, but you’re a big boy. Sound it out.” 

The look on his face makes you regret the low blow instantly. 

“Jesus,” he huffs, taking his hat off and scrubbing his hands over his face like he’s trying to wake up from a nightmare. “Why are you being-”

You cringe, expecting a nasty insult.

“-so mean?”

Oh. 

Ow. 

For some reason, that hurt more than any curse word would. 

“I’m not mean.” 

“I know you’re not,” he lifts his head, searching your face for any remnant of the girl he’s spent the last two months with. “So why are you acting like this?”

Your silence eggs him further. 

“You know what, I’m so fucking sick of you treating me like I’m stupid,” his eyes squeeze closed when he swears, nails digging into his tattooed knuckles as he crosses his big hands. The confession rips through him and hits you like a physical blow. You suddenly remember all of the times you’ve teased Jungkook about his major or insulted his intelligence. 

‘What tests? You’re a photography major.’

‘You’re an idiot, Jungkook.’

‘Your major is showing.’

You didn’t mean any of it. Not one bit. They were just shitty efforts to conceal your feelings for him. You never realized that Jungkook was taking your comments to heart. But it was too little too late. You can’t turn back time and the floodgates have already opened. 

“Just because I’m not some big-shot science major, doesn’t mean that I’m fucking brainless. And it certainly doesn’t mean that you’re better than me.” With his hat sitting on the glossy wooden table, you can fully see the angry arch in his brows. The scrunch in his nose intensifies as he seethes. “What? You think you’re too good to go to the showcase? If you didn’t want to come you should’ve grown a pair and said something.”

“It’s not that,” you protest, chin quivering with ugly dents as you try to hold back tears. “I just… figured you’d bring someone else.”

Jungkook pauses for a moment, cogs coming to a halt when he finally comprehends your vague statements. “Stop acting like you can read my mind- or that you know me better than I know myself.” He snatches his hat and drops it back on his head, fingers gripping the rim to adjust the position. “Because you clearly don’t know shit about me.”

You watch silently as he scoots his chair back, standing up with urgency. How did things come to this? Two months ago you were casual friends, now you’re fighting in the middle of the school library. You would’ve never let him into your dorm room that night if you knew it would hurt this bad. 

“And I actually thought-,” Jungkook says, turning to face you. His lips open and then close promptly before he waves a hand at you. “Fuck it, nevermind. I’m done.” 

You look extremely suspect.

Speeding through campus with your hood up, sweater strings almost dangling to the floor with how tight you’ve pulled them. You can barely see where you’re going. The small fluffy peephole you’ve provided yourself is no good for navigating the winding halls of the dreaded liberal arts building. 

You’ve been sleeping in later and later; a recent habit. Most days you felt drained, barely able to muster the energy to crawl out of bed. That’s exactly what happened this morning, hence why you’re marching down this evil, forbidden shortcut, in hopes of making it to class on time. 

It’s a Tuesday. Jungkook doesn’t have classes on Tuesdays. But you’ve done everything in your power to avoid him and the places he frequents. You haven’t heard from him since the.. incident. Not a single text or call. It hurt like hell, but what did you expect? You weren’t exactly nice to him the last time you two spoke. And it wasn’t like he cared to begin with. He was probably already buried in someone else; moaning blissfully. Meanwhile, you can’t even leave your damn room without thinking about him. 

Shut up, evil brain. Back to the matter at hand—getting to class. 

You decide that music is the best method of distraction. An exaggerated sigh slips out as you yank your phone out of your pocket. You’re just about to crank your airpods up when a couple of distant voices catch your attention. 

“These are from this weekend's showcase, we’re taking them down next week…” A muffled response that you can’t comprehend. “Yep, all are my students.”

You stop dead in your tracks.

The professor’s prideful tone rings in your ears, drowning out whatever breakup playlist you were previously listening to. The mention of a showcase, the showcase, makes your heart drop with a painful thud. 

Fuck.

Your skull feels exponentially heavier than normal when you lift it, finally breaking eye contact with the dingy concrete floor underneath you. There are pictures hung all along the white walls of the campus center. No doubt leftover from an event you deliberately skipped. 

You roll your head back, attempting to loosen the uncomfortable tension in your muscles. Anxiously gnawing on your bottom lip, you take in your surroundings. Jittery hands pluck out your headphones and plop them back into your Luna-shaped airpod case. Underneath all the sadness and guilt, your body was teaming with curiosity. 

You never found out what Jungkook’s topic of choice was. And now that you think about it, you haven’t seen any of his photography. Ever. 

A quick look wouldn’t hurt, right?

Besides, maybe this was what you needed to move on. A final goodbye to the man who has held your mind captive for far too long. 

With a deep exhale and a heavy heart, you take the plunge and step forward. You lull along the walls, staring wide-eyed at each photo. Most of them take on a dark modern vibe, displaying people and objects in dreary settings. A sea of gray and black. Devoid of color. You glance at the labels above. The topics chosen were gloomy, too. 

Hm. Life imitates art. 

You wonder if those students have had their hearts broken as well. 

A vibrant splash of color makes you halt. Your eyebrows furrow as you stare at the canvas. There’s a blood-red rose. The lens is so zoomed in that the flower eats up the entire portrait. You place a manicured digit against it, tracing your fingertip along the jagged veins in the delicate petals. The imagery is surreal, almost comparable to a heart. Not a cutesy cartoon heart—the literal human organ. You think it’s stunning, standing out amongst the rest like a beautiful sore thumb. 

The printed black font along the border makes your breath hitch.

Love - Jeon Jungkook.

The subject confuses you, but the photography makes sense. Of course, this was Jungkook’s work. It’s obnoxious, lively, and so incredibly different from the rest. Stunning and enchanting, nonetheless. The next photo in his set is of two shadows, a bit distorted as they're splayed against the concrete. A couple holding hands. You recognize the silhouettes immediately; Mina and Taehyung. You can’t fight the smile spreading across your face. 

Next in the portfolio is a room, white walls decorated with faux ivy vines. The little, golden lights laced throughout them gives the picture a warm saturated glow. At the center of the photo is a woman laying underneath a cream duvet. Her bare back is facing the camera, messy hair sprawled on the pillow. It’s a bit risqué, but you get how it connects to his chosen subject. It’s the aftermath of the physical act of love.

To any other student or teacher strolling by, the woman in the picture was a stranger. But to you, she’s the farthest thing from a stranger.

She’s you.

Jungkook must have taken it while you were sleeping.

A wave of the most perplexing, juxtaposing emotions washes over you. Your palms turn clammy as you try to process what you’re witnessing. Why would he do this? Include a picture of you in a project, literally titled ‘love’, only to fucking lie to you? To take advantage of your affection and string you along while he entertained another person?

You find the answers to your aimless questions in the next photo.

Fireworks. 

The only time you remember seeing or hearing fireworks was… 

The night of the party. 

“Jungkook,” you sigh, pressing your damp forehead against the grainy wood of his door. You never thought you’d be in this position. Chasing after a man. It’s humiliating and out of character, but you need to make things right. “I know you’re in there…”

You’ve been standing outside of his dorm room for the past ten minutes. Knocking, pleading, begging. All to no avail. The sound of rustling blankets and footsteps on the other side makes you lift your head, eyes widening with hope. The optimism is lost once the soft noises stop completely. They only served to confirm your suspicions. Jungkook is home and he’s purposely ignoring you. 

Oh, the irony.

Earlier in the week, the roles were reversed. Jungkook was the one pining for your attention. Now, you know exactly how he must have felt that day in the library. And you don’t like it one bit. 

“Look,” you huff, shaking a few clumpy strands out of your face. “I know you probably don’t want to talk to me right now… but I’m really sorry.”

The only response you receive is the whoosh of running water. 

Your shoulders slump in defeat. Obviously, he’s not going to answer the door. Why would he? He had every right to be mad. You hadn’t hesitated to dismiss him, and his passions, when you were the one upset.

You come to the grim realization that maybe things are better this way.

Jungkook is completely, entirely, wholeheartedly different from you, and you from him. So much so that you were incompatible. You’ve barely dipped your toes into anything serious, yet the two of you were already fighting and miscommunicating. It would never work, whatever it is. It couldn’t.

Deep down in your heart, you know none of that is true.

As much as you try to rationalize the distance, you can’t convince yourself that your life is better like this—because whenever you picture a future with Jungkook or reflect on the past, you see and feel nothing but sunshine. The walls begin to crumble and you feel free. Maybe, the characteristics of Jungkook you deemed annoying and different, were what made being with him so euphoric.

But none of that matters anymore. Whatever chance you had at that, at something more with him, you've completely destroyed. With a grimace and an awful pit in your stomach, you decide the best thing you can do for him is leave him alone. You adjust the takeout bags in your hand and begin to head out. 

Just as you reach the end of the dingy hallway, you hear a click and a loud creak. You spin so fast you almost get whiplash. 

Jungkook is standing in his doorway, looking at you blankly with a toothbrush sticking out of his mouth. He’s shirtless, full muscles rippling under his milky skin. Normally you would ogle at the sight of his toned chest and defined abs, but your focus is elsewhere. Like on the red flannel sweatpants hanging loosely on his hips, sharp v-line peeking over the hem. You recognize them from the night you helped him study for an upcoming quiz. 

‘This is a conspiracy,’ he grumbled, convinced the test was an elaborate scheme by the school committee to punish him for his frequent drunken mishaps and countless guideline violations. You laughed, resting your head on his shoulder as you helped him memorize terms and ideas. You guys didn’t leave the library until 2 a.m.

He looks warm and cozy. Dark tresses swooping in messy waves across his forehead as he peers at you with doe eyes. After not seeing him or checking in on him for a while, you let out a sigh of relief. 

“Hi.” 

“Hey,” he mumbles softly, voice coming out muffled over the bristles of his toothbrush. He pulls it out, letting out a tiny ‘oops’ as a glob of toothpaste hits the floor. He wipes it away with his foot before continuing. “What are you doing here?”

“I…” Everything you wanted to say had trickled out of your mind like the little droplets of water running down your skin. 

He meets your silence with an unamused squint and starts to close the door. 

“Jungkook, wait!” You shout, taking a few frantic steps closer. “I saw the showcase!”

He pauses. “You did?” His thick brows slant in confusion. “How?”

“It’s still up in the liberal arts building.”

He nods his head slowly as an awkward quietness falls over the corridor. You can tell he’s still upset with you and the tension makes you queasy. 

“I have pancakes,” you offer nervously, lifting up the crinkled plastic bags in your hand. It’s so damn cheesy. But you're trying your best. You prayed that he understood the reference, and remembered how he showed up to your dorm in the same exact way. The fateful night that started it all. 

“Interesting.” His nose twitches as he tongues the little hoop on his bottom lip. Obviously fighting a smile. Thank God. “What kind?”

“Chocolate chip… your favorite.” 

He hums a contemplative noise, scanning you up and down. Your hair is dripping. The pink velvet hoodie you’re wearing is clinging to your figure in ways he knows it isn’t supposed to. “Why are you wet?”

“It’s raining,” you point out. 

Jungkook glances over his shoulder, glancing into his room and out the window at the cloudy, gray sky. There’s a change in his expression when he faces you again. “You walked here in the rain?”

You nod meekly. 

The harsh glint in his eyes softens. He sighs deeply, head dropping in defeat as he holds out a colorful arm, inked digits gesturing for you to come closer. “C’mere, Bambi. I’ll get you some clothes.”

Bambi. 

You’ve never been so elated to hear that nickname. 

“Thank you,” you peep, scurrying towards his open door before he changes his mind and sends you packing. Goosebumps form on your skin when your bicep brushes against his bare chest as you hastily enter the room. The light touch leaves your cheeks hot.

“Hold on,” he says, disappearing into his tiny bathroom. You set the pancakes on top of his nightstand, awkwardly standing in the middle of his dorm. This isn’t exactly how you envisioned your first time at Jungkook’s place would go.

While idly taking in your surroundings, you spot a little whiteboard above his bed. On it, scribbled in blue marker, is the biggest boobs you’ve ever seen in your life. There’s a heart eyes emoji tacked on in the corner. A good artistic detail, you think. You should be rolling your eyes at his boyishness. That’s what you always do. But an endeared laugh comes out instead. 

Why was a poorly drawn pair of tits making you soft?

Right underneath the whiteboard is a collage of taped pictures. You bend at the waist for a better look. There’s a polaroid of him and Taehyung, arms intertwining at the elbows, both downing a dark, probably alcoholic, beverage. How cute of them. The next photo is of Jungkook on a rollercoaster, tongue out and eyes crinkled as he middle fingers the camera. So wild and free. Your heart swells in familiarity. 

But the more you stumble upon, the more unfamiliar Jungkook becomes. There’s a few blurry pictures of a big black dog he’s never spoken about before. The next one has you gushing. It’s a candid image of baby-faced Jungkook, holding up his high school diploma with a proud, big, bunny smile. There’s an older woman in the frame kissing his cheek. You tilt your head in confusion. You wonder if it’s his mother. You had just assumed he couldn’t stand his parents and didn’t keep in contact with them.

Maybe… you don’t have Jungkook figured out like you thought you did. There’s still so much you have to learn. You make a mental note of all the questions you want to ask him later. 

That is if there even is a later. 

The bathroom door opens and Jungkook walks out. “Here,” he says, handing you a pile of neatly folded clothes. There’s an oversized black hoodie on top. Your favorite sweater, the one you always steal from him. You watch sullenly as he sits down on the edge of his bed. 

“I’m sorry,” you reiterate, absolutely loathing how weak and frail you sound. Jungkook doesn’t respond. He just stares into your soul with those scrutinizing eyes. “Can you talk to me, please?”

“I wanted to talk at the library,” he groans, arms jolting forward in frustration, fingers painfully flexed and hooked like claws. His bare chest flushed an angry red. “I’ve been trying to talk to you. All fucking week!”

Startled, you jump at his voice, dropping the stack of clothes you were holding. Jungkook’s eyes widen.

“Ah, I-'' he interrupts himself with a shameful hiss. You pick up the fallen fabrics with shaky hands, placing them on his nightstand with the forgotten pancakes. Jungkook digs the heels of his hands into his eyes, too apologetic and embarrassed for losing his cool to look at you. “I’m sorry.”

To be fair, he hadn’t been that loud. It was more abrupt than anything else. But your Jungkook was as happy and carefree as the wind. This side of him was new, and you were still figuring out how to navigate the uncharted waters. “It’s okay.” You can’t blame him. Not after everything you’ve done. “You’re allowed to be mad.” 

“I’m not mad,” he sighs. The tattooed fingers splayed over his eyes slide in to clamp the bridge of his nose. The other hand pats the spot next to him on the black comforter. “Come here.” 

“But,” you look down at the damp clothes, “I’m wet.”

“It’s fine. Sit down.”

You listen, cautiously sinking down into the bed. Despite the copious amounts of nude escapades, you’ve never felt more vulnerable with him. Usually, when you’re in bed with Jungkook, he’s panting above you, sleeping below you, or lying beside you. Head snuggled into your neck like an annoying, albeit affectionate, cat. Now, you make sure to keep your distance, anxiously picking at your chipped nail polish. 

“What happened?” He questions breathlessly, relieved to finally verbalize the words that were weighing heavy on his chest. “Everything was going great and then you switched up on me. Like the showcase? Really, Bambi? I was the only person there without a guest.”

The disappointment in his voice cuts you deep, but the vision of him at the event he had been so excited for, completely alone, hurts even worse. You were his muse, and you rejected him. Looking at him was an awful decision, because you get lost in his eyes immediately. Those beautiful, captivating, endless eyes. Filled with pain and uncertainty. You realize the only way to make that awful look disappear, is to confess…

“I really like you, Jungkook… a lot. Like- more than just friends…”

Once again, you’re met with silence. Jungkook’s face is unreadable yet so familiar. You've seen that expression before. You can’t pinpoint when or where exactly, but it makes your heart pound so loudly that your ears ring.

“So,” you continue shakily, “the last time we hung out—when you canceled our plans—I got really upset.”

“I was finishing my project.” 

“But then I saw a picture of you at a party-,”

“Yeah,” he defends, looking at you exasperatedly, unable to follow your train of thought. “I wanted to take pictures of the fireworks.” 

“I know that now,” you admit, shifting uncomfortably in your seat, “but the picture was from Nayeon’s Instagram.” 

“Nayeon?” He frowns. “I haven’t talked to Nayeon in months.”

“But you guys were-” your eyes dart around in search of the right phrasing. You settle on ‘a thing’, putting little air quotes around the ambiguous title. 

“Why does that matter?” He asks incredulously. “Her and I ended things before we even started hooking up. I haven’t had sex with anybody else since we’ve been a thing.” The last part is teasing, he mimics your air quotes as his pierced pout curls into a smirk. Ah, Jungkook gets it now. Your unbecoming actions over the course of the week were a product of jealousy and possessiveness. Any lingering trace of anger is washed away with the revelation. “I told you that.”

“Yeah, but…” After mulling over your thoughts, you hesitate to speak. You hadn’t realized how ridiculous and childish you were being until now. Taehyung was right after all. “I don’t know, the way you said it seemed… fishy.”  

Jungkook deadpans you before shaking his head, chuckling under his breath. You watch it all unfold awkwardly. How embarrassing. 

“It’s not funny, Jungkook!”

“Ah!” He echos your shouts through a laugh, cupping your head with his large hands and jittering it gently. “Stop thinking! Your brain is evil!”

Hm. Valid point. 

“In my defense,” you retort, cuffing his wrists with your tiny hands. His skin is warm and soft. You’ve missed touching him so much. “You literally mentioned Nayeon while we were having sex.”

The playful stars in his eyes combust. “Huh?”

“Oral fixation.” 

His eyes widen in remembrance. “Oh shit,” he groans, slumping down, hands dropping into his lap. “Looking back, that was so fucked, but I- I just thought it was funny. I swear I didn’t mean anything, like- bad by it. I-.” Frustrated by his own stuttering and lack of judgment, Jungkook mushes his fingers into his sockets before laying down in defeat. “That was so fucking stupid of me. I’m stupid. I’m sorry, Bambi.”

Stupid. 

That word coaxes a visceral reaction out of you. 

“Don’t say that,” you whisper. His tattooed fingers part in the middle as he hesitantly peeks at you. You giggle for a moment, and so does he, but then you feel the gravity of the situation. Sniffling, you look down at the beautiful boy. How could you have ever been so nasty to him? You push his bangs back gently. They’ve gotten longer. Cupping his cheek, you slowly brush your thumb across his soft skin. You’re afraid that if you’re too rough, he’ll slip right through your fingers. “You’re not stupid, Jungkook... I’ve never met anyone who sees the world how you do. You’re so creative and clever in your own right… I’m sorry if I made you feel like you weren’t, because I don’t think that at all.” Voice crack. “I never did.”  

“Hey,” Jungkook coos in concern. “It’s okay.” 

“No, it’s not okay,” you argue, blinking furiously to fight back the waterworks. “And I’m really sorry about the showcase. I know how important it was to you.” 

“Shh,” he shushes, “please don’t cry.” He catches your hand and brings it to his mouth, pressing the sweetest, gentlest kiss to your fingertips. “You apologized, so we’re good, yeah?” 

“Mhm,” you sniffle. It feels like a ton of bricks have been lifted off of your shoulders. “For what it’s worth, your portfolio was gorgeous.”

“Nah,” he teases, wrapping an arm around your waist and encouraging you to lay down with him. “You’re only saying that because you were in it.” You smile softly, thankful for his light-hearted banter. You stay like that for a while. Face to face. Just looking at one another. You think you could stay like this forever, basking in his beauty. His warmth. Jungkook speaks first. “Why didn’t you just talk to me about the picture?” 

“I guess, I was just scared of losing you… but then I just started ignoring you, which doesn’t make sense… so probably should’ve just talked to you about it.” The stream of consciousness makes him laugh. “I really like you, Jungkook.”

“I don’t do relationships.” 

You feel your heart shatter into a million, irreparable pieces. 

How cruel. 

“Wait, those aren’t the right words,” Jungkook shakes his head. “What I meant to say is that I’ve never actually been in a relationship.” The stammered admission has you stunned. Campus fuckboy Jungkook has never been in a relationship? “And I have no fucking clue what I’m doing but… I really like you, too. I want you, I do… I don’t know how good of a boyfriend I’ll be but,” he looks at you for the first time throughout his nervous ramble. His eyes are just as terrified as yours. “I’m willing to try if you are.”

You blink at him. Did he just say… boyfriend? 

“__,” Jungkook calls, anxiously toying with his lip ring. “Do you want this?”

You’ve never wanted anything more. 

Without warning, you smash your lips into his. This kiss is sloppy and brash, but he’s yours. Jungkook is yours. “I think you chipped my tooth,” he winces, chuckling breathlessly. “Is that a yes?”

You nod vehemently. 

“Okay,” he smiles, tilting your chin, “now give me a real kiss. None of that amateur shit you just pulled.” 

You kiss him again, head full of clouds and tummy full of butterflies. Jungkook grabs under your thighs, maneuvering you on top of him, knees on either side of his cinched waist. Your lips are more controlled this time. There’s a little tongue action. Nothing too dirty, just soft brushes and prods like you’re two virgins testing the waters. Everything is slow and unhurried. You feel like you’re floating, levitating, fucking astral projecting.

“There we go,” Jungkook grins, the rounded tip of his nose tickling yours. It’s so sappy, and you can only imagine how dumb you two look, staring at each other with sparkly eyes and goofy smiles.

Jungkook is still Jungkook, though.

A sneaky hand and the grinding of a zipper interrupts the cute moment.

“You perv!” You shriek, giggling wildly as you swat his naughty fingers away. The damage is done, and the sleeve of your open sweater slips down your bare shoulder. “Is sex all you think about?”

“Mm,” he hums in confirmation, placing a peck on the newly exposed skin. “Sex with you,” he specifies before peeling the damp material from your arms and tossing it onto the floor. You cringe at the clanging of your expensive, deadstock, Juicy Couture hoodie. “Why are you so covered up?” Jungkook sits up to suck on your erect nipple, right through your translucent, white tank top. Whimpering, you grind against him. “You gotta take this off…” he sighs dreamily, yanking the pesky shirt over your head.

Wow. He’s extra needy today. Not that you’re complaining. 

“Jungkook,” you complain, arms crossed over your chest. “Stop staring!”

“Why are you being so shy?” He does this often. Gawks at your naked body until your skin burns and your cheeks sting. It's a strange feeling. So uncomfortable yet so reassuring. You’ve never had a man look at you the way Jungkook does, like he’s trying to remember every birthmark, curve, and detail. That level of intimacy was scary. You can’t help but squirm under his intense gaze. “You’re my girl now, aren’t you, baby?

His girl. You swoon. 

“I am, it’s just kinda awkward.” 

“How so?” He patronizes, bottom lip jutting out in a deep pout. “Can’t I look?”

“You can just… don’t stare.”

“I do what I want.” The sudden switch in his voice makes your breath hitch. “Move your arms. Let me see you.”

Oh. He’s in one of those moods. 

You and Jungkook rarely dabbled in sub and dom dynamics. Maybe, he was too afraid of intimidating you. Maybe, you were too afraid to initiate. But boy was his aggressiveness a treat. The duality between the relaxed attitude he carried in his everyday life, and the occasional primal beast that came out during sex, made your mouth water. 

“Really?” He tuts his tongue when you counter him with a scowl, raising a threatening brow at you, code for ‘go ahead, test me’. You do, not moving a muscle. 

Jungkook physically pries your arms apart and twists them behind your back, holding your wrists together in one hand. The swift movement makes you gasp.

“This okay, Bambi?” 

All you can see over the bubbles of your cheeks is his tangled, black hair. His forehead rests against your collarbones, sharp exhales fanning across your chest. The hot gusts make your nipples pebble and the light stimulation sends a jolt of electricity coursing through your spine.

“Yes,” you whimper. 

Using his free hand, Jungkook grips your jaw, indulging you in a sweet kiss. “Good girl.” The whispered praise has your clit throbbing. He turns your face towards the sleek mirror mounted on the wall. “Look at you, baby.”

Insecurity looms over you like a black raincloud as you’re forced to look at the reflection. The sight of your nude body makes you feel icky. Instinctively, you try to jerk away.

 “Hey, stop-” he gruffs, tightening his grip to cement you in place. “Chill. Take a deep breath.” 

You obey, closing your eyes and inhaling deeply.

“Why are you so combative today?” The rough edge falters for a moment when Jungkook confirms that he ‘just learned that word yesterday from a synonym website’. You giggle. Why must he be so adorable? “Don’t I always take care of you?”

“You do.”

“Do you trust me?” You nod. “Use your words, baby.”

“I trust you, Jungkook.”

“Good girl,” he smiles, making you face the glass again. His touch is much more gentle this time, guiding you with a delicate finger on your chin. “Don’t look at me,” Jungkook chuckles when he catches you staring at him and then points at your bewildered expression, “eyes on you.”

Despite the initial resistance, looking own reflection isn't as difficult as it was the first time. There’s little things you pick up on, like the way your thick, fluffy hair lays. The way your chest looks so supple pressed against his. How your hips curve out at the right angle. Your skin is smooth and poreless. That Laneige toner is really out here doing the lord's work.

“Look at how beautiful you are.”

Although Jungkook’s words are sweet, you wouldn’t go that far. But you guess, one could say you’re cute—which is more credit than you’ve given yourself in a while.

“Aren’t you so beautiful, baby?”

You hum to appease him, but this experience was definitely a start. You’re gaining self-confidence, one baby step at a time. “You’re beautiful, too.”

“You think so?” He asks airily, flashing one of those teeny tiny smiles he does, where only his two front chompers poke out. You swear this man is an angel, or some mythical being that was too ethereal to exist on planet Earth. Mumbling a small ‘uh huh’, you peck at the corner of his mouth. His silver hoop feels icy against your lips, but his hands, rubbing soothing lines up your back, are so warm. “I wish you saw yourself the way I do,” he says with sparkly eyes. “How could I want anyone else, Bambi?”

Your heart swells two sizes too big and you don’t even know how to respond. 

“Alright, space girl,” Jungkook chuckles at your ditzy state, delivering a quick swat to your ass to bring you back to reality. An impatient, tattooed arm is hooked under your thigh, tossing you to the side before he gets to his feet. “Lay down. ‘S been a while since I ate that pussy.”

“Wait,” you say, unphased by his lewd comment. “Can I…” you look down at his crotch, “you know?”

“What?” He smirks at your vagueness. “Suck my dick?”

Foreplay normally consisted of Jungkook’s head between your thighs, his fingers milking your g-spot, or a shy handjob here and there. Now that he’s your boyfriend, you suppose it’s finally time to return the favor. Especially since he looks so delicious with his messy hair and his pretty tits out. 

“Please,” you choke, cheeks burning with embarrassment at how quickly the plead slipped out. 

“You don’t have to beg,” he purrs, stepping between your parted thighs sat at the edge of his bed. You gulp, nose aligned with his growing bulge. “Actually, yes, you do,” he retracts, swiping his big thumb across your bottom lip tauntingly. You’re dripping, already knowing where things are headed. “Been a bad girl lately, haven’t you?”

“Yeah,” you pout, shrinking under his beady eyes, peering right at you over his big nose. “But you said we’re passed that.”

“We are,” he agrees, “but I could use some reassurance. Wanna give me a little bit, baby?” 

“How?”

“Suck it,” he requests, tapping his thick digit against your deep frown, “show me how good you’re gonna blow me… just so I know…”

God, you can’t deny him. Not when his voice is drenched in lust and he looks that yummy.  Flicking your hair over your shoulder, you grab his wrist, taking his thumb into your mouth, all the way down to his palm. Moaning, you swirl your tongue around the pad. He plays along, plunging and pulling his finger into your wet suction. Your lips are going to look so fucking pretty around his cock, Jungkook thinks. 

“‘Kay, no more,” he says, voice strained as he yanks his hand away. The movement makes you accidentally bite your tongue. Asshole. He proceeds to tangle his spit-covered hand into your hair. Major asshole. With a thick fistful, Jungkook shoves you into his clean-shaven pelvis. “Am I hard yet? Check for me?”

He knows he’s hard. You know he’s hard. But you indulge him anyway, mushing a sloppy kiss into his v-line. The view of his eyes is disrupted by the heavy heaving of his chest, and his cute little nipples; spiked and erect. Dipping down, you place a loving peck on the tip through his pants. The red material is damp from his arousal. “Yep, hard.”

“Cute,” he laughs in reaction to how sweet and innocent you look down there. “Take it out, then.”

You tug his pants down, letting them pool at his ankles. His boner springs up with vigor, whacking you in the nose on its path up to his navel. “Oh fuck,” he gasps, smacking a hand over his mouth in guilt. You glare at him, suspicious of how genuine that ‘guilt’ really is. Something you’ve noticed about Jungkook is that his smiles reach his eyes first. You don’t need to see his lips to know he’s holding in a laugh. The little stars in his irises and the crinkles in the outer corners blow his facade. “You okay, Bambi?”

“Control your dick, Jeon,” you sneer.

“Can’t,” he pouts, wrapping his palm around his tree-trunk-sized base while kicking his pants aside, “he wants you.” You’re impressed at how quickly he steers the conversation back to sex. Also, personifying his dick? That’s new. Clicking his tongue, Jungkook measures his hard cock across the length of your face. If it wasn’t for the curve, his pretty pink tip would be touching your hairline. “How’s he gonna fit, baby? You sure you can take it?”

The questions were rhetorical, purely dirty talk, but they held a piece of the intimidating truth. “I don’t know,” you respond honestly. 

“Have you ever done this before?” Sensing your nerves, he pulls back a bit.

“Only once,” you shiver, recalling the questionable memory. “So I don’t know how good I’ll be at this…”

“Pfft,” he dismisses your concerns, “don’t worry about that.” He pets your cheek and you nuzzle into his touch, thankful for the comforting gesture. Then, Jungkook plops down, shimmying up the bed clumsily until he’s hunkered down in his pillows. Following suit, you turn to face him and begin tying your hair up. 

“Wait!” He hollers, stopping you at the elbow. His eyes widen at his own unexpected outburst. “Leave it, please. I like it down…” he coughs, “so pretty.” 

Out of the corner of your eye, you can see your frizzy baby hairs shooting wildly in all different directions. Pretty? Regardless, you let go, messy strands falling in loops against your chest and back.

“I have flavored lube if that helps. In my nightstand.”

Of course, Jungkook owns flavored lubricant. It's pretty on-brand for him. But your eyes nearly pop out of your skull when you open his top drawer, unveiling almost an entire Adam & Eve store. 

That’s a stretch and you’re dramatic.

Still, you stare in wonderment. There’s an unopened pack of condoms, ‘ribbed for her pleasure!’ printed on the front in purple letters. The blue and white wand next to it makes you choke. The Hitachi. It’s much bigger than you expected, but it makes sense. If it’s as powerful as Jungkook boasted, it must need a fucking car battery. You gulp. 

“Snooping through my things, Bambi?” 

“No,” you squeak, shaking your head. “You have quite the collection here, Mr. Jeon.”

“Mr. Jeon, that’s sexy,” he laughs, making you jump with an unexpected smack to your ass. “See anything you like?”

Cheeks ablaze, you stay focused, finally spotting the little aqua bottle of… blue raspberry flavored lubricant? You pick it up, causing a shiny piece of metal with a little glint of pink to roll out.

“Really, dude?” 

Jungkook’s brows furrow in confusion until he sees the silver butt plug, decorated with a pretty pink gem on the end. Absolutely perfect for you. “Oh, yeah,” he snatches the toy from your clammy hand and eyes it with pride. “Isn’t it pretty?”

“I can’t believe you actually bought one.”

“Why not? I said I was going to.”

“I know,” you huff with a nervous snicker, “but I didn’t think you were actually going to do it.”

“I mean,” he looks at you like you’re brainless, “you like anal, no?”

“No!” You shriek defensively. Anal play wasn’t even on your sexual radar...

Well, that’s not entirely truthful.

You enjoyed it the last time you had sex with Jungkook, in the shower, getting stretched out by his thick thumb in your butt. You remember how mindblowing and pleasurable it felt to be full. “Well, maybe. I don’t know.”

“That’s okay,” he smiles reassuringly. “We don’t have to use it. I just figured it’d be nice to have, in case you wanted to experiment, you know?” 

He’s so sweet and thoughtful it makes you ill. 

Now that you think about it, your sexuality is basically untapped. You’ve barely scratched the surface of self-discovery. Before Jungkook, you’ve never had a man care about your pleasure, or encourage you to take risks for your own sake. No ulterior motives. Being with Jungkook was like skydiving. Horrifying at first, life-changing once you took the plunge. With him, the parachute was there whether you decided to jump or not. You know that you’re safe, so why not take the plunge?

“Actually, Jungkook,” you stammer, “I kinda wanna try it… the butt plug.”

“You sure?” 

“I’m positive.”

The conviction in your voice is like a beautiful ballad in his ears. Brick by brick, you’re opening up. Every day spent together, the walls erode a bit more. 

“I got the smallest size I could find, see?” He holds the toy up to his thumb to demonstrate. It’s only a little longer, a little thicker. “So it’s not that far off from what you’re used to.”

“Thank you, baby,” you gush, planting a fat kiss on the dough of his cheek. The contrast between his bready, baby face and his razor-sharp jawline makes you dizzy. You need him in your mouth asap. “Can I suck your dick now?”

“Absolutely, but first can you-,” his index finger twirls in a circle. You blink at him blankly. “Ah, fuck it.” Deciding it’d be much easier to move you himself, Jungkook sits up at the waist to spin you until you're face to face with his third leg, resting patiently against his stomach. The modified 69 has you creaming. “Like that…” he mumbles dreamily, hooking his fingers into the waistband of your track pants, tugging them down your thighs to expose your perky behind and glowy cunt. 

“I don’t know where to start.”

“Innocent little thing…” he whispers, smoothing a palm over your lower back. He leans up to chomp on the fat of your ass cheek, leaving bunny-toothed dents in your skin. A predator eating its prey. “Want help?”

“Please,” you mewl, melting under his touch. 

“Spit,” he orders, cupping an inked hand under your mouth. Reluctantly, you spit into his palm. He uses your saliva to wet himself, coating his unbearably hard cock with a few languid pumps. Opening the cap, Jungkook squirts a little drop of lubricant onto his finger. “Taste.”

You softly suck on his fingertip. The liquid is sweet like a blue raspberry jolly rancher, but it’s not nearly as sweet as Jungkook’s deep guttural moan and hooded gaze. So worked up just for you. Only you. Yours.

“This, too,” he coos, bringing the butt plug up to your lips, “suck it.”

Seeing him this needy and touch-starved was doing things to you. Maybe you should ignore him more often, if it meant that he would be this feral. You comply, wrapping your lips around the icy metal.

“Being so good, baby,” he affirms, resting the drenched plug against his solid stomach before squirting a generous amount of lubricant onto his length, tugging until he’s glistening with a sticky blue sheen. Big and pretty. “Just start with the tip, alright? Go slow.” 

You nod, mesmerized by the little bead of dew resting on the slit of his pretty pink head. Well, it’s a bit blue now. Cotton candy. Yummy. 

“Stick your tongue out.” You do, hovering closer. Jungkook taps his length against your tongue with nasty, wet smacking noises. “You want me so bad, don’t you?” 

You nod impatiently, making your flat tongue brush against the crown of his leaking cock

“Fuck,” he groans, “put it in your mouth.”

There are a few reasons why you find blowjobs problematic. Unfortunately, you were cursed with an annoyingly overactive gag reflex. Very unideal for dick sucking. However, your primary concerns were taste and texture. But Jungkook’s cock feels like butter when you take it into your mouth. Smooth and silky. And the lubricant made him candy-flavored.

“You like that taste, Bambi?” Jungkook chuckles at how eager and dutiful you look, licking and sucking on his swollen tip like a lollipop. You hum in response, slowly swirling your tongue around his tip with purpose. Giving you a hand, literally and figuratively, Jungkook starts stroking the shaft, stimulating the parts of him you have yet to gobble up. “Want more?” You’re not sure what he’s referring to, but you agree anyway, completely entranced by him. With that, Jungkook squeezes under the tip, and you feel a tiny burst of precum hit your tastebuds. 

He’s so sexy you could die. 

Moaning, you clench your thighs together for some much needed friction, causing a single drop of wetness to trickle down your leg. Right before his very eyes. He’s never been so hungry, and it would be so easy to just…

“Jungkook!” You moan so loudly you’re sure everyone on campus can hear it. He had laid his tongue flat, trailing your arousal back up to your pussy and then sensually dipping between your folds in one hot lick. He even traces higher, prodding against your other hole until you’re seeing stars.

“Watch your teeth,” he winces when you get carried away, “be gentle, baby.” Peeping a shy apology, you curl your lips over your teeth and slide down past the tip until you’re halfway down his length. You focus on your breathing, nostrils expanding as you inhale deeply. “That’s it, take more.” 

So captivated by his ‘yeahs’ and ‘uh huhs’, you miss the sound of a cap clicking open. Suddenly, you feel a cold drizzle slide between your cheeks, before a pair of warm hands spread the slippery substance all over. He uses the residual to thoroughly coat the butt plug. 

“Gonna put it in now.” He spreads you open with one hand, pressing the silver against your clenched muscle. “Let me know if anything feels off.” 

The initial push is a bit much. You pull off of him with a wet pop, whimpering as he sluggishly inserts the foreign object. He stops at the sound of your whines. 

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah- fuck,” you grunt, “big, thas all. Please, keep going.”

“I mean, it’s not that big,” Jungkook chuckles, running some saliva over the toy for more moisture, “you’re taking it well, though.” Slowly but surely, he works you open. The noises you moan around his cock are obscene. Not because it hurts, but because it’s so satisfying. 

“Feels good, Koo…”

“Sheesh,” he breathes, staring in astonishment at the pink gem in your ass, “it’s so fucking pretty. So sexy.” In his fucked out, head empty state, Jungkook bucks up, shoving all eight of his curved inches down your throat. He doesn’t realize what happened until you pull off with a gag and teary eyes. 

“Bambi,” he coos wearily and fear ridden. “I didn’t mean to do that, I swear.” 

You send him the meanest, fiercest glare you can conjure up, hoping his conscience burns just as much as your throat does. 

“No, come on,” he pleads in despair, reaching for you as you crawl away, “I’m sorry. It was an accident. I wo-,” 

You shut him up by hoisting a shaky leg over his hip, straddling him. “You really can’t control yourself, can you?” You hover over him with a teasing smile. How could you possibly stay mad at him when he looked like Tuxedo Mask? The dreamy love interest of your favorite cartoon. 

He sighs in relief, panic leaving his body as fast as it came. “No, I can’t,” he smiles softly, shaking his head and snaking both arms around your waist, “not with you.”

And at that moment, you swear you’ve never been happier. 

The closeness you felt was indescribable. Not physically, although his python grip was warm and comfortable. It was all emotional. You’re spiraling out of control, heading flipping and stomach somersaulting, but it’s okay—a contained type of chaos. Jungkook feels it too. The shift in the air. The subtle, yet painfully obvious, change in your dynamic. You’re different this time around. A little more outgoing. A little more fearless, as you sit on top of him. He loves it. He thinks he might even love…

“You gonna ride me, Bambi?”

“Mhm.” You feel like a schoolgirl again when you kiss him. That nervousness, wrapped in unbearable excitement, whenever you passed your first crush in the halls. Yeah, that's how you feel right now, looking down at the most stunning person you’ve ever experienced. 

Sparks. Fireworks. Butterflies.  

You and Jungkook exchange shy smiles when your hands touch, reaching for his erection, desperate to close the gap and become one. So ready to connect your bodies, minds, and hearts in the most intimate way. Clumsily, you fail at first. You’re both so wet that his flushed tip slips, completely missing your entrance and sliding past your clit. 

“Sorry,” you chirp abashedly. 

“That’s okay,” he pipes, holding himself up for you, “try again.” Just the thick head of his cock resting against your folds is enough to know that there’s going to be an adjustment period. A stretch. There always was, Jungkook is fucking huge. But you have a feeling that this new position would hit differently, making him feel bigger, harder, longer. With a firm grip on your hip, he guides you down onto his piercing length. A symphony of moans and sighs fills the room. 

“How’s that?”

You’ve never felt so full.

The butt plug makes the squeeze even tighter, pushing his cock right into your g-spot. The burn ignited a mind-numbing fire inside of you. That, or he was just so deep that you felt him in your stomach. “‘S okay,” you whimper, gnawing on your lip and clinging onto him for stability, “really deep like this, Koo.”

“Take your time,” he gruffs, wincing under the dig of your petite fingers, making little crescent indents in his biceps. Amid sex, the tension in your body served as a reminder that you’re still learning. He was doing his best to be good, but the way your pussy just swallowed him up like that, triggered something primal. Tightest, wettest pussy he’s ever had the blessing of penetrating. Biting his tongue until his mouth tastes metallic, Jungkook battles the urge to thrust up into you until you’re dumb and drooling. He’s trying so hard to be good. The internal struggle is heard in his voice when he speaks, strained and gravely. “Start slow.” 

Eventually, the tiny licks of pain transform into a milky, insatiable hunger. When you look down at him, all you see is the base of his thick neck, head thrown back as he succumbs to the gratification of your walls. ‘Wow, what a man,’ you think to yourself. Your man. Encouraged by your eagerness to please, you begin sloppily jerking your hips at a fast pace. No flow or rhythm. 

“Easy, easy,” Jungkook shushes with a grin, stopping you at the waist. “Why are you in such a hurry, hm? We have all night.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing,” he laughs, grabbing the shaky hands that are resting awkwardly on your thighs. “Let’s get your form right first. Lean on me.” With the command, your palms are placed flat on his broad, solid pecs. Already, the angle and leverage work with his curve deliciously. “And it’ll probably feel better for you, if you moved like this instead,” Jungkook grips your ass, rocking you into a grinding motion. Instead of up and down, your cunt drags back and forth on his throbbing shaft. 

He’s right. It feels so much better like this. The dreamy sensation has you moaning and moving like a pornstar. 

To be honest, this wasn’t even the type of video Jungkook clicked on when looking through his PornHub feed in the mornings. Absently scrolling past orgies and blowjobs like the daily newspaper. He preferred things fast. Pummeling every inch into you before pulling out swiftly, leaving only the very tip inside to keep you needy and begging. But fuck, the slow, sensual rolls of your hips were turning his brain to mush. And the way you’re dripping down his balls might make him demote missionary to his second favorite position. He’s hypnotized, staring up at your perky tits, rippling and bouncing freely above him. 

“Yeah, baby…” you cheer, carding your fingers through his thick, healthy hair as he sits up at the waist, latching onto your nipple. The gentle runs turn into harsh tugs when he takes the sensitive teat between his teeth. The overstimulation makes you hiss. 

“Taste so good,” he huffs, “I can’t keep my mouth off of you.” Slicking his wispy bangs away, Jungkook leans back, stealing a naughty peek at you fucking yourself on him. Using him just how he likes. He spreads his legs apart, praying it’ll help you sink down even further, if possible. “Yeah, take it all…”

“Love taking it all…” 

That hot, gooey ballooning is already forming in his balls. The pooling in his shaft is a warning; he’s going to bust soon. Jungkook maintains a strict ladies first policy, so he needs to think of something. Fast. A lightbulb switches on in his head when your neglected clit glides across his smooth pelvis. 

“Hold on.” With a hand on your lower back, Jungkook squeezes you against him, preventing you from toppling over as he leans to the side and fiddles around in his special drawer. You gulp when he takes out the infamous vibrator. 

“You look terrified,” he jokes, pointing out your fearful gaze and plump lips, currently forming a cute little ‘o’ as you observe the wand. 

“Hm, I wonder why?” You scoff at him in fiend ignorance. “Oh, it’s superrr strong, most girls don’t even last five minutes,” you mimic in your best Jeon Jungkook impression. Voice dropping an octave to match his deep, even tone. You think it’s pretty accurate, but his melodic giggles say otherwise.

“I mean, it is,”  he confirms, powering on the vibrator, “but there’s different settings, like, here’s the lowest.” The white crown is placed on your inner thigh, letting you get accustomed to the movement before he uses it to destroy you, and your most private areas. The low rumble travels up the muscle in your leg until it reaches your clit with a faint hum. “See? Not bad, right?”

Wrong. 

The lack of foreplay on your end, had you teetering on the edge. So when Jungkook presses the strong, creamy buzz to your swollen bud, you’re a goner. 

“Fuck!” You wail. “This is the lowest speed?”

“Tell me how it feels.”

“I- oh!” Evilly, Jungkook moves the toy down, nudging the rounded corner underneath your hood, directly stimulating your little bundle of nerves. “I… don’t know… can’t… think right now…”

“Have nothing to say now, huh smart girl?”

Oh, so this was your punishment. 

If you could even call it that. You’ve never felt so fucking good. 

The rapture coursing through your vein forces you to stop, clawing at Jungkook’s shoulders. He picks up where you left off, rutting into you with vigor, hitting all of your sweet spots perfectly. That, combined with the smooth plug in your ass and the vibrator on your clit, has you overwhelmed and out of control. 

“Fuck! Jungkook, I can’t- too much.”

You’re cumming before he even has the chance to object. Thighs quivering. Arms shaking. Eyes rolling back into oblivion. The darkness is disrupted by lightning bolts of white, hot pleasure. Your entire body tingles like you’ve just stuck your acrylic into an outlet. Jungkook guides you to the light as you brace the crashing tsunami of your orgasm. 

A literal tsunami.

“You squirted.”

“I did?”

“A little.” Unfortunately, he didn’t get the chance to witness it. Just relished in the warm splashes on his pelvis, his upper thighs, and his cock. You nuzzle into his shoulder, groaning disgruntledly in shame. Jungkook humors you by resting his cheek on top of your head, swaying subtly as he holds you. “Guess you’re not my Bambi anymore. Deer can’t swim.”

“They can swim,” you murmur. “You don’t shit about deer, Jungkook.”

“You’re more like a fish or something,” he coos happily, ignoring your correction. “...Ponyo.”

“You like Studio Ghibli movies?” You ask, picking up your heavy head and looking at him with big, animated eyes. “Since when?”

“Since before my balls dropped,” he responds curtly.

“I didn’t know that…” 

“I think there’s a lot about me you don’t know yet, baby.” 

There’s no malice in his words. They’re not a sneaky jab, or an attempt to make you feel guilty. They’re just the truth.

“Can I ask you something, Kook?”

“Of course, you can,” he hums, friskily nipping at the apple of your cheek. 

‘Do you like anime in general? Or just Studio Ghibli?’

‘If so, what’s your favorite? Oh my God, this is so exciting!’

‘Is that your dog in those pictures?’

“You’re crazy, and yes, that’s my dog,” he chuckles at your endless string of curiosity. “But how about I nut first?” As if on cue, his member twitches inside of you, reminding you that he’s still hard and waiting patiently for his release. “And then you can interview me. Sounds good?”

“Yes,” you say, cheeks scalding. “Sorry.”

“Stop saying sorry,” Jungkook repeats, pecking you lovingly. "I'm gonna lay you down now..." Strategically, he maneuvers you onto your side, plopping down behind you. You curl into his frame, back arching with the rise and fall of his panting chest, his beautifully sketched arm wrapped around your waist. The other rests on the bed, sticking straight out for you to use as a pillow. Your top leg is thrown over his hip, spreading you enough to run his length over your puffy cunt. Grabbing the Hitachi, he brings it back to your engorged clit. The touch makes you yelp. 

“Mm, I love how sensitive you get,” he whispers, licking a hot, needy stripe against your cheek. You peep out a confused noise, cowering under his tongue. Yuck. He’s so gross… but so sexy. “It’s not even turned on yet, baby. What would happen if I put it all the way up?”

“I think I’d fall in love with you…”

His heavy breaths stop as locks eyes with you. You can't distinguish the iris from the pupil. It all blends together like the night sky, filled with little stars of raw emotion. He’s pondering something, dewy lips parting and closing as the thought fades. 

Nothing is said, but you don't mind. Because when he enters you, rocking into you with languid, passionate thrusts, you feel it. The unspoken words surround you like the weather. They’re warm like a summer breeze.

“Mine, isn’t it?” He speaks against your lips, Hitachi set to the max, going full throttle on your nub. “Say it.”

“This pussy is yours,” you cry, crystal streams clouding your vision and streaming down towards his arm.

“Not that,” he chokes through gritted teeth, trying to postpone his orgasm. Waiting for you to say the magic words and open Pandora’s box. “You, baby. Tell me that you’re mine.”

“I’m yours.”

“Yeah,” he nods, lips curling in as he bathes in your dripping cunt. His strokes become short and uneven as he reaches the point of no return. “I’m yours, too.”

The declaration of reciprocal affection and want fills your chest before shooting to your core. You cum together, sighing into each other's mouths as pure, intense bliss takes over every square inch of your body. Every cell tingles. You try to kiss, but the seal of your lips is broken by your needy cries. During the mutual orgasm, Jungkook trembles. Chest, legs, and arms all quivering in unison as he milks both of you dry. Painting your walls with warm, white spurts until he has nothing left to give. The Hitachi isn’t turned off until you beg. 

Euphoria. 

When you’re done, neither of you can bring yourself to disconnect. Sex left your sweaty bodies idle and fucked out, but the intimacy of it all kept you rooted in place. Airy kisses are planted on your shoulder. Light scratches outline his tattoos. His seed is hot inside you in the most disgustingly comfortable way. You don’t move for a while, laying in each other's aura until the rain clouds fade and the milky way can be seen by the naked eye. Twinkling lights of stars and headlights flicker against his skin as you count his breaths. They grow more steady as the minutes pass. 

“I have a plan.”

Intrigued, you crane your neck, quirking a brow at the man behind you. “A plan?

Without warning, Jungkook expertly gets to his knees. Your ankles are hauled up by your head, manicured toes tickling his cotton pillowcase. Folded in half at the waist.

“Jungkook!”

“Bambi,” he huffs above you, softening cock still tucked inside of you. “Hold your legs for me.”

Oh. You know what he wants.

“Baby,” you giggle flirtatiously, hands curling under your thighs to keep them in place, “what are you doing?” He must want another round. Excitement bubbles in your squished chest and cramped stomach at the thought of having him twice in one night. 

“If you stay like this, I should be able to run to the bathroom without getting cum on my bed.”

“Are you kidding me?” You spew in disbelief and disappointment.

“Baby, please,” he groans with pleading eyes. “It’ll take two seconds, I promise.” 

“Fine,” you oblige with an overexaggerated pout, “but hurry. This hurts!”

With your permission, he scurries off into the bathroom. A light turns on and the faucet runs. He must be getting something to clean up with. Despite your best efforts, and the ache in your bent neck, his baby juice leaks out of you, cascading down your butt with impeccable speed.

“Jungkook, It’s dripping!” 

The door slams against the wall with a loud thud as he bursts through, wet cloth in hand. A second too late. “No!” He sighs in annoyance, dropping to his knees on the mattress, angrily watching a fat white droplet splash onto his black comforter. “Really?”

“What was I supposed to do?” You shout back playfully. The whole situation was dumb and immature, but you can’t stop laughing. You cackle like a madwoman when he runs the damp towel through your folds. “‘M ticklish,” you respond dazily when he raises a brow at you. The giggles turn into a sharp hiss when he slowly removes the plug from your swollen hole.

“Does it hurt?” Jungkook coos, spreading your cheeks to get a better view of the slightly red, inflamed area. 

“A little, but I’m okay. I promise.” 

“Good,” he hums, smacking your ass, hinting that he wants you off the bed. “Go pee while I change the sheets.”

There’s a change in your appearance when you look in his bathroom mirror. The girl reflected, wearing her boyfriend’s black, pine-scented, oversized hoodie, seems… happy. She is happy. The resting bitch face that Mina often teased you for is completely gone. All you see is glowy skin, bright eyes, and puffy cheeks. A tiny hand comes up to massage them. Ow. They hurt from smiling so much. From laughing like a maniac. You’ve never seen yourself so lively. You’ve never felt so alive. 

With a content sigh, you skip back into the bedroom. 

Jungkook is already settled, snuggled under the clean bedding like a big baby. The sound of the door opening makes him jump, waking up from the two minute nap he accidentally fell into. Turning to you, he smiles lazily.

You’ll never get used to that face of his. That beautiful face.

“I’m knocked, Bambi,” he yawns, opening his big arms. “C’mere.”

Heart heavy with warmth, you climb between the sheets. You lay on your back, preparing for him to sink his head into your full breasts like feathered pillows. His favorite cuddle position. 

“We never ate the pancakes,” you frown, noticing the plastic bags on his nightstand when you reach over, shutting his lamp off.

“‘S okay. We’ll eat ‘em in the morning.”

“Ew, Jungkook,” you scoff revoltingly. “They’ll be rotten by then.”

“You’re rotten but I still eat you.”

Hm. Touche. 

“You know,” he lulls, lips smacking together. It’s a habit that only comes about when sleep clouds his mind. “I’ve had a crush on you since the day we met.”

“Liar,” you whisper with a smile, twirling the loose strands at the nape of his neck. Just the way he likes. “You called me a bitch, the day we met.”

“You’re so dramatic. I did not call you a bitch.” The way his tired, hooded eyes blare open at your false statement makes you laugh. “I said you were bitchy. There’s a difference.”

You recount the memory.

“You know what, I like you. You’re a little bitchy but-,” he slurred at the end of the night, helping you gather the discarded solo cups, "Also innocent. Kinda like a baby deer. What the fuck was that movie?”

“But underneath that attitude… I don’t know- There was just… something about you. Something special. And I knew that I could bring that side out of you, eventually."

“Bambi! Right… I can’t wait to ruin you.” 

God, why are you so emotional today? 

Tears pile into your waterline. They’re not from sadness or anger. 

Laying in bed with Jungkook, who’s sighing peacefully as he drifts off to sleep, you can’t believe that this is your life. 

After a few minutes of silence, you realize that there’s no way you’re following him into dreamland. You’re way too wired and ecstatic. Who could blame you?

“Jungkook,” you whisper.

No answer.

“Jungkook.”

A grunt of acknowledgment. 

“Are you awake?”

“No…”

“But you just responded, though...”

Silence.

“Can we watch Sailor Moon?”

Crickets.

"Jungkook?"

“Baby!” He whines, high-pitched and huffy as he turns his head in frustration. “‘M sleepin’!’”

“Jeez,” you roll your eyes, still sluggishly playing with his dark ropes. “Someone’s grumpy…” 

There’s another beat of silence before he speaks.

“Fine,” he groans dramatically, twisting back to his original position with a smushed frown against your boob. “I’ll watch one episode. One.” 

You squeak excitedly, pecking the top of his head in appreciation, pulling out your phone and turning on your favorite series with glee. He puts up a good fight; loopily murmuring ‘wow’ and ‘no way’ whenever you share a little fun fact about the character lore. Halfway through, the sound of Usagi and Rei arguing is overtaken by Jungkook’s soft snores. 

Soft for now. You know once he hits the REM phase, he’ll turn into a lawnmower. 

With a defeated sigh, you close the streaming app and put your phone away, cuddling closer to your boyfriend. 

Your boyfriend. 

You're dying to finish the season. At this rate, it's going to take you guys forever to watch Sailor Moon in its entirety. But that’s okay, you suppose, because forever with Jungkook doesn’t sound that bad at all. 

it's requited love yall :')

© chryblossomjjk 2022 [do not copy, translate or repost]

#jungkook smut #bts smut #jeon jungkook #jungkook #bts jungkook #bts #btshoneyhive #btswritingcafe #jungkook fanfic #jungkook x reader #bts x reader #jungkook fic #bts fic #bts fanfic #jungkook imagine #jungkook scenarios #jungkook series #jungkook scenario #jungkook au #kpop #kpop imagines #jungkook x oc #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x you

[ranhaitanisgf]

heyy congrats on 2k! can i request delinquent & class president + stuck together with baji? thanks and congrats again

—baji keisuke // delinquent & student council president // stuck together

☆ ˎˊ˗ i went. soooo . overboard . this was too good though once i got going i couldn't stoppp omg. all this is lowk inspired by that one scene from the webtoon a reason to die, so iykyk :3 thank you for requesting anon, and i hope youre still around 2 years later to read this! enjoyyy xoxo

☆ ˎˊ˗ warning! small references from the 'a letter from baji keisuke' prequel series!

☆ ˎˊ˗ fem!reader

☆ ˎˊ˗ wc ; 2.5k+

masterlist || 2k masterlist

the breeze of the early evening wind was doing wonders for you at the moment; it was nice to take a moment for yourself amongst all your responsibilities and just relax. 

it was even nicer that you were able to enjoy a cold beverage after completing all your student council duties; the vending machine on the rooftop was a great investment, (you’d been against it when someone pitched the idea, but you’re so glad you approved it). all of this paired with your favorite music playing through your earbuds from your iPod? 

yeah, this was a perfect moment. 

you perked up a bit when you heard the door to the rooftop open, looking to see who was there. 

“hm? oh, baji-kun!” the boy looked over to you at the call of his name, the corners of his lips turning up when he recognized you. “what’re you still doing here? i thought you would be home already.” you asked, pulling an earbud out of your ear. 

“chifuyu and ryusei were helping me with some stuff after school and we just finished up. how ‘bout you? it’s getting pretty late.” you sighed at his query, the stress coming back to you just thinking about all the things you have left to do. 

“there was a lot of club budgeting to finish because a lot of the clubs are requesting more budget. all the presidents are getting mad at me for choosing another club over them, but it’s like, maybe if you were more productive with your club, i would allot more budget, y’know? gah, just thinking about it gives me a headache…i haven’t even finished the revised budgeting for half of them…” you shook your head, sighing at the predicament. when you looked back up, you saw baji adjusting his glasses awkwardly, as if he didn’t know what to say.

“sorry about that, baji-kun. i just came up here for a small break from it and ended up complaining about it to you.”

“nah, it’s fine. ‘m kinda like that with studying too.” 

“oh, right! how has the studying been going for you-? wait, hm…” noticing that he was still standing, you paused, slipping your school blazer off and laying it down next to you, patting it. “here, come sit down! you don’t have to keep standing, y’know. i’m not gonna bite!” you teased, feeling satisfied when he came and sat down next to you. 

“anyways! how has the studying been? have your test scores been alright lately?” 

“yeah, they’ve been alright. enough to pass.” 

“i’m glad to hear it! you’re improving so much, it’s so impressive! oh, you can also always ask me for a tutoring session or if you need anything. that’s what i’m here for!” you offered, smiling at him. “i admire your diligence, so i’m happy to help with anything!” 

baji nodded at your words, a small smile on his lips. “yeah, thanks.” 

after a few moments of silence, you offered one of your earbuds to baji, who accepted. you weren’t sure if the two of you had the same music taste, but you figured it was worth a try, and surprisingly, he didn’t seem to complain at all. in fact, he even complimented your song choice, which made you feel a very normal amount of happy. a very normal amount. 

˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗

you were scared awake by a sudden yell, jerking as you immediately sat up, wondering what was going on. 

“hey!! open this door right now!!” the banging on the door drew your attention to baji, who was no longer by your side and was yelling at the door. “hello?! shit…” he walked away from it, sighing a bit. 

now that you were a bit more awake and coherent, you realized that it was dark outside. 

oh shit…

“ohhh my god, i’m gonna be in so much trouble, ohhhh my god…” you mumbled, scrambling for your phone to check what time it was. when you finally found it and flipped it open, the only thing that popped up on the screen was the dead battery symbol, making you groan. 

“uh…” baji started, seeming a bit awkward. “the door…is locked.” 

“what?!” you exclaimed, shooting up and walking towards the door. you tried the doorknob to no avail, proving baji’s words to be true. “oh my god…dude, i’m so dead. school administration might actually kill me if they find out about this…” 

baji was running a hand through his hair, also seeming to be very stressed. “my mom’s gonna kick my ass…” 

now that you were looking more closely, you realized that baji had ditched his glasses and that his ponytail was gone, making him seem almost unrecognizable. in fact, you might not have recognized him if you’d passed by him on the street looking this way. 

in all honesty, he actually looked so much better without the thick lenses of his glasses blocking the view of his amber eyes, and you thought that his dark hair being free from a hair tie suits him a lot better. you’re curious to see how he dresses outside of school now; he would probably fit streetwear pretty good-

wait, you have to focus. there are more important things to be thinking about right now. 

right, right. 

focus. 

“baji-kun, does your phone have any battery?” 

“no…” he mumbled, his hands shoved into his pockets as he looked at the sky. you sighed, trying to think of something. in the midst of your thinking, a chilly breeze blew by, making you shiver a bit. 

“ahh, i can’t believe this is happening.” you murmured, laughing a bit at the ridiculousness of the situation. “actually though, i’m sorry about this, baji-kun. you wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for me.” you said, feeling a bit guilty. after all, you had been the one who had offered for him to sit down with you, and from what you remember, you were the one who fell asleep. 

“it’s fine, i fell asleep too.” he said, leaning down to grab your school blazer off of the floor. “here, put this back on. it’s cold.” he tossed it over to you and you gladly accepted it, brushing some of the dust off before slipping it on. it helped a bit against the cold, but you supposed you underestimated how chilly the nights get in the spring. 

baji sat back down, taking his school blazer off and setting it beside him, loosening his lie. he leaned his head back against the wall and shoved his hands into his pockets. he seemed to have given up in trying to get someone’s attention, instead accepting the situation. you were about to sit down again and do the same, but you suddenly got an idea, shuffling around in your pockets for some spare change. 

“yes! 500 yen!” you whispered excitedly, walking up to the vending machine. “hey, baji-kun, do you like red bean?” 

“huh? yeah, why?”

“one sec…” you answered, putting the coins in the machine. you picked out two red bean buns, watching as they slowly dispensed and fell into the bottom compartment. reaching into the bottom, you grabbed both of them, walking a few steps and sitting next to baji. 

“i mean, it isn’t exactly dinner, but it’s something!” you said, offering one of the buns to baji. he accepted it, saying something about paying you back as he opened the wrapper, immediately taking a huge bite. you did the same, not realizing how hungry you were until you started eating it. 

“i’m actually such a genius for this!” you exclaimed, continuing to munch on the bread. “it’s so lucky that i ended up approving the budget for this vending machine!” silence fell over the two of you as you continued eating, but you felt more content than awkward. you’re glad that you ended up stuck here with someone nice like baji. 

speaking of baji, you were still a bit caught off guard by how different he looked without his glasses and ponytail. of course, you’d noticed how cute he was even before, but the word you would go with now is more like…attractive? 

really attractive, but still cute. 

“what?” 

“huh?” 

“you were lookin’ at me.” you felt your cheeks flush, a bit embarrassed at the fact that he caught you looking at him. 

“oh, i was just thinking, you look a lot different without your glasses. do you actually need them?” baji seemed to think for a moment before he spoke again. 

“nah, i jus’ don’t want people gettin’ the wrong idea about me.” he ended up saying. “i’m trying to get better with school, so if i go around lookin’ the way i do…” 

“girls will be attracted to you?” baji sputtered at your words, almost spitting out the bread that was in his mouth. 

“hah?! no!! it’s ‘cause i don’t want people knowing i’m in a gang!!” your jaw dropped at his words, and he subsequently smacked his hand over his face. 

the information was a huge shock to you. of course, you’d heard the rumors, but you’d chalked them up to just that; rumors. after all, even though baji wasn’t someone with perfect grades, you always saw him trying his best to get his grades up, and you really admired that. 

“you…pff…you’re in a gang?! riiight…” you managed to get out, giggles starting to overtake your words. “baji-kun, you literally dressed in a sailor school uniform to get extra tutoring-!” 

“hey! that was one time!” he grumbled, his ears turning pink. you finished laughing, wiping some tears from your eyes as you calmed down. 

“okay okay, sorry. i mean, are you being serious though?” you asked, feeling a bit curious.

“yeah. only losers lie about stuff like that.” 

“okay, which one then?” 

“toman.” again, your mouth dropped at his answer, but you recovered quicker than before. 

“t-toman, like tokyo manji gang…right. yes. wait, would you get arrested if people found out you were in a gang? why can’t anybody know?”

“it’s ‘cause then random dudes start showin’ up at school to fight, and then i get in trouble for fighting.”

“ohh, i guess that makes sense. why would they bother you at school though? school isn’t the place for that stuff…”

“dunno. it just gets annoying to deal with after a while, and my mom always kicked my ass when the school called her, so it was kinda crap.” you nodded thoughtfully at his words. 

“well, your secret’s safe with me, baji-kun! pinky promise i won’t say a word to anyone!” you held your pinky out, but he just looked away from you. 

“i believe you, you don’t have to-”

“c’mon!! it’s not a pinky promise if you don’t lock pinkies, y’know.” 

“...fine.” you cheered as baji relented, gently wrapping his pinky around yours. you shook your crossed pinkies and let go, feeling satisfied, (why did that small contact with him make your heart skip a beat?) 

“there! and you can beat me up or something if i break it.” you joked, leaning your head back against the wall.

“i’m not gonna beat you up.” 

“eh? why not?” 

“i don’t hit girls.” he said matter of factly, his tone quite serious. “only assholes hit girls.” you stared at him for a moment, seeing the dead serious look on his face before you smiled, closing your eyes. 

“y’know, you’re a pretty stand up guy, baji-kun. i like that about you.” you hadn’t meant to say the last part, but you were hoping he would just ignore it. 

“...thanks.” after that, there was a comfortable silence between the two of you, the only light source being the moon. you enjoyed living in tokyo, but if there was one thing you didn’t like, it was the fact that you couldn’t see the stars at all. 

“this wall is so uncomfortable…” you muttered, trying to get comfortable enough to sleep again. you’d long since given up on trying to get off the rooftop, so you figured that you might as well get some sleep since you were sure tomorrow was going to be interesting, (you weren’t looking forward to having that conversation with the principal). 

abruptly, you felt baji’s arm across your chest, pushing the side of your head to land on his shoulder. 

“better?” he asked, seeming to have no reaction. 

“uh, yeah…isn’t this uncomfortable for you though?” 

“nah.” 

“o-okay…” you said hesitantly. if you weren’t so tired, you probably wouldn’t have been able to sleep from how flustered you were right now; after all, you’ve never had a boy offer you his shoulder to sleep on, so why wouldn’t you be flustered?

it definitely wasn’t because it was baji. 

definitely not….

it was definitely because it was baji. 

˗ˏˋ ☆ ˎˊ˗

bonus: 

chifuyu and ryusei both looked down at the sight in front of them, shock filling their bodies. 

they’d been worried when baji had skipped the toman meeting yesterday evening, and they had been even more worried when his phone had been switched off, spending the rest of the night trying to find out what happened to him. however, now that they knew what had happened, they were about to burst their seams from laughter. 

“pff…do, hah, do we wake them up?” chifuyu whispered, his cell phone out and snapping pictures. 

“n-nah, haha, they look pretty cozy…pfff…” ryusei whispered back, his cell phone also out and snapping pictures from every angle. 

in front of them was baji and you, your head resting on his shoulder and his head resting on top of your head, dozing off without a care in the world. he had draped his blazer over the both of you as a blanket, and if one didn’t know any better, they might think that the two of you were a couple. 

“pff…this is some good blackmail stuff,” ryusei chuckled, exuding a proud aura. “look at toman’s little keisuke, all grown up now and sleeping with his crush! that’s what dreams are made.” chifuyu spluttered at ryusei’s words, a shocked expression on his face. 

“baji-san has a crush on (y/n)-san?! isn’t she the student council president?!” he whisper-yelled. ryusei nodded and shrugged. 

“the heart wants what the heart wants, or something.” 

“both of you, shut the fuck up.” 

“eek!” 

“gah!” 

baji glared at the two boys in front of him, holding up a finger to his lips, telling them to shush. 

“what’re you still doin’ here? scram.” they both immediately made a beeline for the door, fearful of baji’s wrath after being woken up from sleep. 

baji rubbed his eyes, yawning a bit as he looked around. he’s not sure what time it is, but he’s glad that it was only those two idiots who saw the two of you and nobody else. 

we should probably get up and get to class before someone else comes up here. 

he turned to the side to wake you up, but he stopped, looking at your sleeping form. he chuckled a bit when he saw your messed up hair, wondering how it got so messed up when the two of you were sleeping sitting up. he leaned back against the wall, staring up at the clouds passing by. 

just five more minutes. 

#˗ˏˋ𖤐 hana’s 2k event! ˎˊ˗ #˗ˏˋ𖤐 tokyo revengers ˎˊ˗ #東京リベンジャーズ #東京リベンジャーズ x reader #tokyo revengers #tokyo revengers x reader #tok rev #tok rev x reader #tr #tr x reader #baji #keisuke #baji x reader #baji keisuke x reader #keisuke baji x reader #keisuke x reader #baji x reader fluff #baji keisuke x reader fluff #keisuke baji x reader fluff #fluff #baji x reader scenario #scenario #baji keisuke x reader scenario #keisuke baji x reader scenario #tokyo revengers x reader fluff #tokyo revengers x reader scenario #anime #manga #anime x reader #manga x reader

[livwritesstuff]

inspired by a reply @gregre369 left on yesterday’s post. this is why i love this site so much bc i had this idea floating aimlessly around my brain for such a long time and then someone says something that just connects all the dots for me so - much thanks <3

tw: brief reference to domestic violence

One of parenthood’s biggest surprises (in Eddie’s opinion, anyway) was how easy talking to his and Steve’s daughters about why his parents aren’t in his life was.

He’d figured it’d be hard to figure out exactly how to explain that his mother's death was due to domestic violence caused by his father, who had died in prison twenty years later – but…that about covers it, honestly. Sure, the exact rendition of the story the girls hear varies as they get older, but…it’s pretty straightforward, actually.

Explaining Steve’s situation turned out to be way more complicated for…well, for a lot of reasons, and the fact that his parents are still alive and breathing and choosing to not be around didn't help things at all.

It also didn't help that the girls totally saw Jim and Joyce as Steve’s parents, but it did lead to a conversation that Eddie doesn't think he'll ever forget:

It happened when he was passing through the kitchen to see that Steve was cooking with Moe.

"What're we up to in here?" he asked.

At four years old (she’s actually almost five), Moe has yet to outgrow a phase of picky eating that had started out right around her second birthday. Steve is trying out a new method where he involves Moe in the cooking process in the hopes that she then actually wants to eat the product of her hard work when it’s done. He's seeing varying levels of success.

“We're making burgers,” Moe said, “Poppy’s recipe.”

Eddie looked at Steve skeptically, “Poppy Jim or Poppy Joyce?”

Steve rolled his eyes, “I’m telling Joyce you said that.”

And then he added, “Jim.”

Satisfied, Eddie continued on his way.

“How come you call your dad Jim?” Moe asked.

And that had Eddie pausing in the hallway just out of their line of sight.

“Well, Poppy’s not my dad, sweet pea,” Steve replied.

“Did you not have a dad?”

“I did have a dad – I do. He lives in Indiana with my mom. We don't really talk to each other anymore though."

"Why?"

"When I was younger, I decided that they didn’t take care of me like I needed them too, and Jim and Joyce stepped in to be like my parents instead."

It's not completely accurate, Eddie knows (and he doesn't love the way Steve is shifting culpability away from his parents because that shit was fully on them, but whatever; it's his story and he can tell it however he want), but just like how they don't have a completely accurate picture of what happened to Eddie's mom either, they know what they need to know for now and they'll hear more down the line.

“But what did your mom and dad do?” Moe asked.

"Well, you know how Daddy and I read to you and play with you and put you to bed and make food for you – it was a little different because I was older and I needed different stuff than that, but…”

Eddie watched Steve look back at their oldest daughter, watched him see the look of confusion in her big brown eyes.

“They didn’t do that?” Moe asked, sounding perplexed.

Steve shook his head, and Moe continued to look at him as if he might suddenly tell her he was joking.

“That’s crazy,” Moe finally said, and Steve let out a laugh.

“It is kinda crazy, isn’t it?” he agreed, “That’s why I love being your dad so much, because it’s actually so easy to want to take care of you. Even though you sometimes like to make it hard on purpose, right?”

“Yeah,” she grinned proudly, “Like when I make you snuggle me more at bedtime and you fall asleep by accident and then the kitchen is messy in the morning."

"Uh-huh," Steve said, poking her in the side so she giggled, "Exactly like that."

"You're a good dad," Moe told him.

"You think?" Steve asked as he pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

"The best dad."

“The best?” he repeated, “Can’t let Daddy hear that.”

“He can hear it.”

#cue moe yelling for eddie so she can say it to his face #she later affirms it's actually a tie #steddie #liv’s steddie dads verse #steddie dads #steve harrington #eddie munson #tw: domestic violence

[stuckinapril]

You are so productive and living your best life I admire it so much! I don't understand how you do it... do you have any advice for forcing yourself to do the things you know are good for you even when you are feeling sad and not up to it? Have a lovely day ❣️❣️❣️

Plan your day hour by hour. This actually revolutionized my life. Plan when you’ll wake up, plan what you’ll do every hour of the day, and make it as realistic as possible to stick to your goals. Start with simple things and gradually ramp it up. Don’t overwhelm your day with 60 different goals. I’d pair one passive goal (be on your phone less, for example) with one active goal (study more, take more walks, read more) and go from there. It’s better to start small and be consistent than to start big and quit one day in.

Lower the resistance necessary to accomplish tasks. If you have somewhere to be early tomorrow, plan your outfit the night before. If you have studying to do, have your textbooks/notebooks/notes on your desk by the time you wake up. If you have an overwhelming task, break it into smaller subtasks and focus on them one at a time. If you don’t want to be on your phone in the morning, charge it somewhere you won’t be able to see the moment you open your eyes. I’m trying to overcome the phone issue right now, so instead of setting an alarm on my phone I just bought a digital alarm clock bc I know I’m way less likely to get on my phone that way. I’m lowering the effort needed to actually get started on a task.

Have motivational things handy for when you’re down!! I’m a highly visual person, so it actually really helps me to make moodboards. I have moodboards for things I wanna accomplish, moodboards for things I’ve already accomplished, a Pinterest board for affirmations etc etc. I have a list on my notes app for all the reasons why it’s important to me to accomplish my goals. I have another notes app page dedicated to pasting all the motivational quotes that help me whenever I’m in a funk. You could even print them and hang them up on your wall if you want. In times where instant gratification overshadows getting things done, make it very accessible to remember why they’re important to you to begin with.

Romanticize your tasks. I make silly to-do lists, I make sure I’m always in cute outfits when I’m running errands, I put on perfume and mascara and lip gloss even if I’m literally all on my own in my bedroom about to do a 3 hour study session. I love getting manicures bc there’s nothing more satisfying than studying with pretty dark red fall nails. This may sound extra but I go through my notes pretending I’m Elle Woods or something bc it makes it so much fun. A huge part of why I’m consistent with going to the gym is bc I buy pretty workout fits that just make me feel good. I wear lingerie under my clothes wherever I am bc it makes me feel like a bad bitch even if no one sees it. I don’t start a task with the thought in mind that I want to get it done already—I try to make the act of doing it in and of itself as engaging as possible.

To piggyback off that point, switch your environment if your current one isn’t serving you. Don’t just default to quitting if one approach isn’t working. If studying in your bedroom isn’t doing it, go to the nearest coffee shop. If the coffee shop isn’t working, do the library. Study indoors. Study outdoors. Study in nature. Hell study at a beach if you want to. It doesn’t matter where you are if you’re getting things done. Exhaust all your alternatives before calling it quits.

Set firm boundaries with yourself. This is so big. Self-care is absolutely treating yourself, but it’s also being your own parent and disciplining yourself if you feel like you’re not putting your all into something. In a world where it’s very easy to go “just a few more minutes on my phone” “I’ll do it tomorrow” “I can skip working out today” it’s really important to be able to parent yourself and exercise some tough love and do some things even if you don’t feel like you want to. I really struggle with this as a gen z girl bc this is THE era of instant gratification. But my goals are just more important to me than momentary comfort.

No zero days. Just bc you’re not being your 100% on one day doesn’t mean you should just lie down and do nothing. Being at 50% performance is better than being at 0%. I try to make sure I get some light tasks done on days where I don’t feel like going all in. It helps me not feel like I’ve just derailed my whole life, which consequently helps me move on from my ruts faster.

Look ahead. Can not emphasize this enough. Death motivates me like nothing else. You do not have an infinite time on this earth. You don’t want to be at the same place you’ve been at a year from now. Resist the “I’ll do it tomorrow” mentality as much as possible. Change happens in small increments & there’s no better time for it than the present. What may seem like little things you can skip out on now can quickly snowball into the very things that are preventing you from being where you want to be.

Acknowledge your limits. Someone with two full-time jobs and school should not be comparing themself to the progress of someone with one part-time job and like nothing else. I’m currently studying full-time and also trying to maintain a consistent workout routine, so I don’t expect myself to recreationally read more than 30 minutes a day, even if ideally I’d like that time to be way higher. I know it’s pointless to compare myself to someone who reads 70 books a month but has much less workload than I do. Comparison is inherently flawed bc no one else has been the dealt the cards you’ve been dealt. Tailor your schedule to your own unique situation. Make a list of your priorities and assign them to your hours accordingly.

Listen to your needs!! Mental health is the most important thing. You need to be in tune with yourself to know when you could be pushing yourself a little harder, and when it’s necessary to give yourself time off. If I’m in an actual burnout, I go out with friends. I go see a movie. I give myself the grace of being human and step back for a little bit. It’s completely okay to have those days, and acknowledging them helps you recover quicker. Take care of yourself <3

#i hope this helps <33 a girl rly loves her bullet point lists #also thank u for this ask bc now I get to look back at these whenever I’m in a funk 😈 #ask #study tips

[lesbianrobin]

lesbianrobin fic scraps #5: you construct intricate rituals to be lifted by other men

"You do know that you have curly hair, right?"

"Uh, yeah," Eddie says, yanking a brush through his hair and wincing at the ripping sound.

"So you're destroying it on purpose? It's, like, a metal thing?"

"Huh?"

"Do you even use conditioner?"

"I didn't invite you here so you could heckle me in my own home."

Steve leans against the front door, all casual like he hangs out in Eddie's living room all the time. "You didn't invite me here, I came to pick you up and you weren't ready. Also, I'm not heckling," Steve says, "Just observing. You don't, do you?"

“Yes, as a matter of fact, I do,” Eddie says, “It’s called two-in-one shampoo and conditioner, asshole.”

Steve lets out a noise that's halfway between a groan and a gasp. "You're joking."

Eddie raises an eyebrow.

"Oh my God, you're not joking," Steve mumbles, eyes wide.

Eddie drops his hairbrush on the coffee table and grabs his keys. "Didn't realize I needed perfect hair to ride in Steve Harrington's fancy car."

"No, but you do need shoes."

Eddie looks down.

"Oh," he says. "Yeah, that would probably help."

-

"After this party, you and I are going to the store and getting you some real shampoo and conditioner."

Eddie's still tying his right shoe, seated in the passenger seat of Steve's BMW. "I shudder to think what overpriced garbage you consider the baseline for hair-care products."

“Whine any more and I'm buying you leave-in, too.”

“What's leave-in?”

“Jesus Christ,” Steve says mournfully, looking up at the sky as if asking the man himself to lend some strength before starting his car.

Eddie observes as they pull out of the trailer park. “So, O Great Master of the haircare arts, how did you acquire such knowledge on the demands of curly hair?”

“Did you miss when people called me 'The Hair' for four years?”

“Your hair isn’t curly.”

“What, I’m not allowed to know things?” Steve sounds agitated, and he looks straight ahead at the road, not even glancing at Eddie a little bit as he speaks.

"...Oh, there's a story here!"

"No, there's not."

"The lady doth protest too much," Eddie sings, leaning close to Steve's face. Steve glances at him, though he looks back to the road quickly, shoving Eddie back toward his own seat without looking at him.

"Don't laugh."

"I won't, swear on my life," Eddie lies.

"Alright… so, you know Lucas."

"Yes."

Steve sighs. "Well, you've seen me fuck with Dustin's hair, right? I do it to Max and even Mike sometimes if he doesn't look like he'll bite me, and Lucas, he used to have, like, shorter hair, so you could kinda give him a noogie and it was, like, whatever, but now he's got the flat top and I didn't know if I could, like, touch it without messing it up, yknow? So I went to the library—"

Eddie bursts into laughter.

Steve slams his hands on the steering wheel. "I knew you were gonna laugh!"

"No," Eddie struggles to say between laughs, "No, oh my God, that's the cutest thing I've ever—"

"I fucking hate you," Steve sulks.

He can just see it, is the thing, Steve walking into the library and ringing the little bell and stumbling over his words as he asks the librarian for help finding books about hair. Squinting at the spines of books, checking out a few, carrying them back to his car and dumping them in the passenger seat with a satisfied grin.

"I had to help Dustin with his hair for the Snow Ball, too, and his is curly, so you know, I started with him back then, and then Lucas, and then I just kept reading, and it was…" Steve shrugs. "I don't know, it was cool."

Steve says it nonchalantly. As if that isn't the most precious thing on planet Earth.

"You're so cute," Eddie says, and Steve rolls his eyes, but there's something there, Eddie thinks, something soft and fond in the slight curve of his lips. There's something.

-

This isn't how Eddie had imagined getting Steve's hands on him, but he really can't be mad about it.

“Alright, alright,” Dustin chants, as Robin hoots and whistles her support.

Someone begins pounding on the table repeatedly.

“Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve!” Lucas begins the chant and Max joins in, followed shortly by Robin and Dustin. Mike looms over Eddie with his arms crossed and a scowl on his face.

“No pressure, Harrington,” Eddie says.

“Man, shut up,” Steve replies, and starts to push.

Astoundingly, Eddie rises.

“Oh, shit,” he says, tensing his body as much as he can. Steve would never drop him, but Eddie might not have the abdominal muscles required to keep himself from toppling off to the side.

The Steve chant gets louder and faster, more hands pounding on tables and feet stomping on the floor. Mike is clearly trying so hard to look unimpressed, but his eyes just keep getting wider as Eddie rises higher and finally reaches the peak, Steve's arms extended as much as they can without locking out, and he holds Eddie aloft for a few seconds, and Eddie wishes more than anything that he could see Steve's face right now. Steve begins to lower him down, and god, this was all over too fast, and Eddie's heart is pounding like crazy, so loud in his ears that it almost drowns out all of their friends' raucous screaming.

“What in the hell is all this racket?”

Eddie startles, almost falling, but Steve digs his fingers in, and holy shit Eddie's going up again, and then he's coming down, and how is Steve this strong?

“Two,” Dustin calls out, “Holy shit!”

As Eddie goes up again, Nancy explains, “Steve said he can bench, like, two hundred pounds or something, and Eddie said he bet Steve couldn't even lift him and he's about one-seventy—”

“One-sixty, Wheeler,” Eddie calls out, and then he's coming back down again and Steve says, “I don't know, feels more like one-eighty.”

“Oh, screw you.”

“Three!”

"...Steve, Steve, Steve, Steve..!"

“Huh.” Mike's dad almost sounds impressed. “Well, keep it down, your sister's trying to do her homework.”

Mike snorts. “Holly's homework is coloring.”

“Hey, don’t knock coloring,” Eddie says. It’s hard to sound normal, with Steve’s hands pressing into his back and thighs, but he’s pretty sure he’s managing it. “It’s a noble and honored tradition, Wheeler, one of humanity’s oldest pursuits. Art is—”

“Four!”

"...Steve, Steve..!"

“—what makes life worth living, after all.”

Steve grunts with effort, making Eddie’s chest seize up, but he rises for the fifth time. Someone says, “Jesus Christ,” but Eddie’s not sure who.

“Mike, maybe you could ask Steve here to take you to the gym sometime.”

“Dad,” Mike groans.

“And five!” Dustin begins to clap as soon as Eddie’s back down. The hooligans abandon pounding on the table to cheer, hooting and hollering with all of the enthusiasm of an adventuring party confronted with a chest full of riches.

“Alright, get off of me,” Steve grunts, and Eddie acquiesces, rolling to the side and leaping to his feet. God, he could scale a mountain right now. Eddie turns to look at Steve, and holy shit, actually, he could not scale a mountain right now, because his heart would explode. Lying on his back, face slightly flushed, arms splayed out and hair messy, Steve looks utterly obscene. To be fair, Steve always looks obscene, but Eddie can still feel the phantoms of Steve's hands pressing against him, and he holds a hand out without thinking. Steve takes it, leveraging himself up in a way that nearly has Eddie toppling down onto the floor next to him, but they manage to both stay standing.

"What do I owe you, again?"

"You guys forgot to actually bet anything," Dustin says helpfully.

"Shit," Steve sighs, letting go of Eddie's hand to put his hands on his hips.

"Maybe you could get me that hair crap you were talking about earlier."

"I win, and my reward is that I get to buy you things?"

"Yep," Eddie says. He can feel himself smiling, so wide that it's almost embarrassing, but he can't help it. Steve is smiling, too.

Steve eyes his hair, and apparently he's distressed enough by what he sees to sigh and say, "Shit, alright. But you have to use it exactly how I show you, asshole."

Eddie puts one hand on his heart and the other in the air. "Scout's honor."

#em talks #lesbianrobin.ficscraps #stranger things #steve harrington #eddie munson #steddie #ignore me posting this at 2:45 am my time. i just had an itch okay

[fuck-customers]

Kind of a fuck customers but also a satisfying story at the same time.

My role in the call center I work in involves taking specifically corporate calls, which means I spend all day talking to “business professionals” (and I use that term loosely) including CEOs. As you can imagine, over 90% of these CEOs are the scum of the earth and the most entitled assfaces on the planet.

A week or so ago, I took a call and went through my usual routine of greeting the cardholder and then began going over verification questions. Since we’re A.) a bank and B.) a bank that handles corporate and government credit cards, we take security seriously and require a caller to be able to verify 3 pieces of information based on what the person responsible for their credit cards put on the account. If they don’t pass, we refer them to their company to get the right details.

So as I’m doing this, the guy on the phone is getting increasingly irritated as he keeps getting the security questions wrong. I’m calm and professional the entire time but firm. Eventually I run out of things to verify with him and tell him that we won’t be able to assist and that he needs to contact his administrator. This is apparently where I went wrong.

“LADY I AM THE ADMINISTRATOR!!” He screeches. Ok, great. I look him up and that’s true but there’s a second admin listed, so I ask him to check in with him. He then yells “THERE IS NO OTHER ADMIN! I’M THE CEO OF THIS COMPANY FOR CHRIST’S SAKE!!”

I apologize and tell him while that may be true, he still got his security questions wrong and needs to reach out to his account coordinator then. This man then proceeds to scream at me for the next minute or so saying how we’re an awful bank, how he’s had problems with us for years, blah blah and how we have the worst customer service ever. Keep in mind, I’ve been nice and empathetic this entire time but also I’m not gonna lose my fucking job just because a guy in a suit doesn’t know his shit. I give him the email to his account coordinator and stress again that he needs to talk to them. Then this exchange happens:

Him: “So let me get this straight. You are saying you are REFUSING and UNWILLING to help me, right?

Me: “No, actually I’d love to help you, however we have these security procedures in place for yours and your company’s protection and cannot make exceptions for anyone.”

Him: “This is fucking UNBELIEVABLE! I’ve HAD IT with this bank!!”

Me: “Ok, I’m sorry to hear that. Anything else I can do for you before we disconnect?”

Him: “WHAT IS YOUR NAME? I NEED YOUR NAME. NOW.”

Me: *gives my first name and spells it for him even though it’s a very basic 4 letter name because I’m a bitch*

Him: YOUR LAST NAME.

Me: “We don’t give out anything but our first name for the safety of our employees.”

Him: *insert that condescending, pissed off chuckle middle aged men do when they’re mad here* “Well I’ll tell you what (My Name), when I close this account and pull my MILLIONS OF DOLLARS out of (bank name) and they ask me why, I’ll make sure to tell them that it’s (My Name)’s fault. And I will see to it that you won’t be able to get another job outside of the minimum wage fast food job or whatever you had before this. How does that sound?”

Me: “Sounds great. Now seeing as how this conversation is no longer productive or professional and threats are being made, I’ll be terminating the call, have a nice day.”

Him: “DO NOT HANG UP O-“

Me: *click*

And that’s how making rich, powerful men rage-cry became my new favorite hobby. Thankfully, I haven’t gotten any feedback on that call; not that I would, seeing as how I did my job exactly how I was supposed to. Anyways I hope I’m his 13th reason. ❤️

Posted by admin Rodney.

[hana-no-seiiki]

HELLO??? WHY IS NO ONE TALKING ABOUT THIS MASTERPIECE??? especially the last line holy shit im scared yet excited at the same time 😬😬

YANDERE! AQUAMARINE HOSHINO x REINCARNATED! READER x YANDERE! RUBY

Guess I gotta do a full fic about it huh. Here we go. Link to previous part in the ask!

tw/cw: yandere themes, gaslight tactics courtesy of aqua, girlkeep tactics courtesy of ruby, girlboss [y/n]. mentions of suicide. reader is gn but gets described as beautiful.

is this really a yandere fic when both the twins are canonically insane tho-

IT WAS SAID THAT DURING THE NIGHT OF YOUR BIRTH THE SUN WAS AT ITS HIGHEST POINT AND FULLEST BLOOM.

Its rays buried humanity under a blanket of heat and devastation. Fortunetellers would wax on and on of the disasters you would soon bring upon the world.

That was your experience in your first life.

Many could only wish of being born to a worldwide pop-star, but to you it was a reality. You resented those that vied for your place. How could they romanticize such a life when every single day was torture for you. Some predicted you to be world-class singer before your first cry. People knew you before you could even speak to them. Everyone already idolized you, expected you to do great things before you’d even learn the alphabet.

The pressure had already been insurmountable the moment you took your first breath.

Your second life was terrifying to say the least. It didn’t matter that way you died before, just the thought of experiencing the same motions again frightened you to your bones.

And so you pretended. A shining star to a dim moon that barely reflected any light. Ever so meticulously making sure none knew of your so called genius. The last thing you wanted was to be labeled a prodigy even with the more lax nature of your new family.

But art will always call to you, a sunflower drawn to its source of energy.

You kept everything as lowkey as you could, reconnected with contacts you knew would keep their mouth shut, and even kept your identity away from prying eyes.

To the world you were just this masked musician that was oddly reminiscent of their previous luminescence.

You were satisfied with that life. Fame wasn’t something you agonized about or wished for. But now that veil had been taken away, it’s as if everything was crashing down yet again. Emails, messages and articles about your success as a young star was beginning to show its true weight. Stress began accumulating further and further as you had distanced yourself from your family and threw yourself to work as a distraction.

On one such ‘productive’ night, you were met with a face you didn’t expect.

“Aqua-niisama! Nice seeing you here. Thought you would be staying at that director’s place for the night—“

“Why didn’t you tell me? Didn’t you promise to tell me everything? Don’t you trust me?”

Aquamarine had this knack of being utterly terrifying without meaning to. He had the talent to frighten at a glance. His beautiful sea-like eyes turn dull, murky. Capturing all the light, and drowning you in the same pressure your old family would throw you under repeatedly.

With his arms caging you between his form and the wall, you knew there was no escaping this. So in spite of the crippling anxiety, you gulp it do

“I wasn’t confident enough with my skills. Your mom is the Ai Hoshino and Ruby is so talented I—“

He lowered his face, nestled it right beside yours. You could swear he was breathing in your scent. “You looked anything but ‘not confident’ up on the stage.”

“Liar.” His hands then moved from the wall to encircle themselves around your body; his face to your the top of your head and nose between your hair. Yet even in this tight embrace you still felt chills down your spine. “I scare you don’t I? You were worried that I would stop you like I did with her.”

“Yes.”

“I’m sorry. I’m a terrible brother.”

“No, I understand you. You just wanted to keep her safe and I—“

“Not for that.” He pushed himself away for a couple of moments, and for that short amount of time you were ashamed to say that you felt utterly relieved until— “This.”

— he kissed you.

You’ve seen Aqua kiss Akane before. Both on and out of camera. You respected their relationship despite knowing of how unhealthy it truly is. They’d eventually break up and things would go smoothly you thought.

Pfft, as if. You knew shit would hit the fan. You were just too much of a coward to get in his way. Akane could suffer for all you care, she chose to date your psychopath of an adoptive brother anyways.

But you didn’t expect him to fall for you.

He never seem interested. Despite your mother telling you time and time again that Aqua cared deeply about you, you just couldn’t see it.

He was the deep, dark ocean. You were at the highest point of the sky, sailing across the cosmic sea. There was no way you two could meet eye to eye much less love normally.

You did the only thing your body could muster at the moment and slapped him.

“You’re right. You are a horrid brother.”

As you ran away, sobbing, Aqua couldn’t help but feel aroused.

Oh, how charming you looked with tears streaking down your cheeks.

It felt like hours when you first started crying nonstop. You never cried in your original life. You had no time or energy to. You never expected that your second, mundane life would be the one that shattered you.

And shattered you it did. You felt sorry for the future you who had to wash off all the tears and snot on your pillows and bedsheets, but it had to be done. You knew if you didn’t let it all out that day it’d happen sooner or later at a more inconvenient time.

Aqua only entered once to leave a tissue box and water bottle before he left. The sounds of typing outside of your room never ceased however, indicating he never actually went too far.

Ruby arrived far earlier than you expected as well. Her schedule that day should have had her busy til midnight but you had the feeling Aqua told her what he’d done.

“Ruby-nee—“

“Ssshhh…” Ruby silenced you with a kiss to the forehead.

“Why would he do that— he - he has a girlfriend.” You stuttered and hiccuped throughout your speech, still crying as hard as you did back then.

“Do you really think he loves her?”

“No.”

“But that isn’t what you’re worried about isn’t it?”

Ruby brought you up to her shoulder, massaging your back in a circular motion. “Trust me, nothing will change. He loves you very much. We both love you. I’m just sorry we didn’t make you feel comfortable enough to share your passion with us. You’re amazing [Y/N] in every shape, way or form. You don’t have to be the brightest to the world, you have no obligation to.”

“To us you’re already perfect.”

You never knew she had the capability to be this comforting in a mature sort of way. She always radiated a loud vibration; refreshing most of the time, though it did get tiring.

Never have you been afforded this kind of consolation. It was always you against the world. Being reminded that there are other stars in the sky beside you gave you a strange sense of solace. An odd variety of relief borne out of being insignificant in the sky.

“This incident just means he loves you in a different way alright?”

“But what about Aka-neesama?”

“I’ll talk to him about it.”

“You should thank me. I left them all vulnerable for you.” Aqua spoke, his right hand quickly moved across his laptop’s keyboard and his left held a can of Monster.

“You felt it too didn’t you?” Ruby exhaled. It took a while to get you to lull you into sleep; a necessary step to have the conversation she was partaking in.

“Yeah. . . I did.” Aqua took a sip from his drink, his starry eyes laser focused on the recording of your performance. He had set up several fan accounts and gotten footage from all sorts of angles. He couldn’t wait for your next stage. May it be from sheer excitement or the caffeine in his blood, but the man was absolutely shaking all over over in anticipation. “We have a second chance, don’t mess things up.”

“I should be saying that to you. Break up with Akane by next week. And be careful with how forward you are with your feelings.”

“Already done.” Aqua held up his phone without breaking moving his head at all, in his phone were a few texts between him and a panicking Akane. “and no promises”

Ruby sighed one last time that night, leaning her head back to your bedroom door. “. . . You were right.”

“Hm?”

Both of her eye’s stars hard turn tar black, a blush covered her cheeks.

“[Y/N] does look enticing when they cry.”

#more sadist yun era posts because yes #oshi no ko #yandere #yandere x reader #yandere imagine #yandere aquamarine #yandere ruby #yandere oshi no ko #yandere oshi no ko x reader #yandere fic #yandere x you #yandere oshi no ko reader insert #reader insert #aquamarine x reader #ruby x reader #yandere aquamarine x reader #yandere ruby x reader #aquamarine hoshino #ruby hoshino

[tarttheart]

KNITWORTHY - JAMIE TARTT x YOU

summary: you pick up knitting and Jamie could not be more supportive.

word count: 1.4k

warnings: language

1.

The first time you made anything for Jamie, it was a plain pair of socks in a sandy beige colour. It was nothing fancy and you were certain one side was longer than the other. It had been a long time since you last knit so you were just happy to have finished something after impulsively picking up some yarn and needles again after work one day. Work had been manic and you were looking for something to help you unwind each night. Picking up the needles again just seemed right.

“I love them. Babe, these are fucking amazing,” Jamie proclaimed.

You probably would not have believed Jamie solely based on his words but his awestruck expression spoke heaps to how he felt. And, if that had not been enough, watching him proudly pull them on in the morning to wear to Nelson Road was all the proof you needed that the man was knit-worthy.

Knitted socks were not the most common sight around Nelson Road, especially not on one Jamie Tartt. Sports socks had long been his sock of choice until recently. While the beige socks had gotten a couple of curious looks, it was nothing too peculiar given how temperatures had dropped in the past week or so. It seemed a simple and effective solution to keeping warm, so effective that a few others decided to jump on the bandwagon.

“My toes feel like they’re at the beach in Chacala. I can hear the waves calling,” Dani quipped the first time he tried wearing woolly socks to training.

“Me too, boyo, it doesn’t even matter I look like I’m wearing my granddad’s socks,” Colin agreed.

2.

You had gotten hooked on knitting hats. After making yourself three in the span of a month, you were on the hunt for more heads to make beanies for. Luckily, Jamie kindly volunteered and even got involved with the process, choosing a bold, variegated yarn for his beanie. It took no time at all and within a week of casting on, Jamie was rocking his new headwear at Nelson Road.

It was definitely an unusual sight, not seeing an ICON cap atop Jamie’s head but with how chilly it had been, no one thought too much about it.

“I didn’t realise you wore beanies,” Keeley commented one day as she passed him in the hallway.

“Fuck yeh, I do now,” Jamie replied.

“Looks good,” Keeley offered and Jamie practically bounced away much to Keeley’s amusement.

He came home to tell you about how good your beanies looked and it had to be true because Keeley said so and Keeley knows all about fashion.

“Babe, babe, I think you could fucking sell these and making a fucking fortune,” Jamie continued excitedly and you laughed.

3.

Following the success of the first pair of socks, you knew another pair had to be made. It took a little while but when you chanced upon a yarn colourway called “Tart”, you were sold. Sure, it probably was not a colour in Jamie’s usual colour palette but it was a nice wine colour that you were confident he would look good in regardless.

The last pair of socks had been a real plain vanilla pair of socks and having had a little more practice now, you were ready to dive into something more textured for Jamie’s second pair of socks.

You were pretty proud of the end product and you swore Jamie lit up brighter than the New York City skyline when you handed them over. He had been eagerly awaiting their completion, watching you like a hawk each night and trying to figure out when you would have them done. One pair of woolly socks just was not enough to satisfy the man now that he had gotten a taste of toasty toes.

Jamie gave you no time or opportunity to wash the socks before he wore them. He needed these socks in his life right away and you were happy to oblige. Jamie excitedly wore his socks to Nelson Road the next day which caught a few more eyes this time. Afterall, it was even more of an unusual look for Jamie.

“Pretty sure those are hand knitted,” Bumbercatch commented from across the locker room one day as the resident knitting know-it-all.

“Yeh, his mum probably made it for him, bruv,” Issac said dismissively.

It had been a fair guess. Afterall, no one knew you existed. You were a naturally private person and you knew all that came with being Jamie’s girlfriend. What if it didn’t last and you had to then deal with all the fallout? Jamie understood and you agreed you two could go semi-public after Christmas if you guys were still together then. While Jamie had initially been disappointed, he came to really enjoy having something that was truly his. No media, no team chatter.

*

Jamie decided he had been benefitting too much from your new hobby without properly compensating you for your time and effort. Remembering that Bumbercatch was an avid knitter, Jamie stopped him one day seeking advice on tools he could get you to further your craft.

“What would you get as a present for a knitter?” Jamie asked Bumbercatch after everyone else had emptied from the locker room.

“Yarn is always good. There’s local yarn shop a few blocks away that has a good selection and they have some good tools too,” Bumbercatch offered.

With Christmas round the corner, Bumbercatch did not think much about it. Based on what he had been led to believe, Jamie was likely buying something for his mum.

4.

It had been a real labour of love. When Jamie had presented you with a beyond generous amount on a gift card and a set of fancy interchangeable needles, you knew you had to go big for his Christmas present. It had been a little hard to hide all the balls of yarn you had had to buy. It was even trickier trying not to make his present in front of him because you knew you would crack and tell him what it was the moment he gave you his big adoring eyes. But, all the late nights spent knitting out of Jamie’s sight and afternoons spent hiding in cafes to knit had been worth it.

“Babe, you fucking made this?”

You had been so excited to present him your pièce de résistance you were practically vibrating as he held up the cream cabled sweater vest. You knew it was not his usual look but it felt special making something not basic for Jamie.

“I know it’s not exactly the Jamie Tartt style but I wanted to do something more instead of just a basic knit. I would’ve made you a sweater but I didn’t want the sweater curse to come true so I thought maybe a vest would be a good loophole? You don’t have to wear it out or at a—…”

Jamie did not let you finish blabbering because he grabbed your face to plant an appreciative kiss on your lips.

“I’m fucking wearing this everywhere, love, this thing is fucking magic,” Jamie proclaimed and you were not quite sure what he meant by magic but you appreciated the thought anyway.

The first day back at training after Christmas had most buzzing. It was always nice and energizing to have a good break with loved ones, whether it was spent with their own families or Higgins’. But, when Jamie walked in in his cozy cream cabled sweater vest like he was in a hallmark movie, the whole facility stilled.

“Morning, lads,” Jamie greeted, paying no attention to way the room had quietened after his entry.

Bumbercatch nudged Colin who stood next to him, “I think Jamie has a girlfriend.”

“What’s got you thinking that, boyo?”

“That vest. It’s a recent release online by a big knitwear designer. It’s not a mum pattern. See?”

Colin and Isaac looked at the page on Bumbercatch’s phone and he was right. The vest Jamie was wearing looked almost identical to the one in the photo.

“It could—…”

Sick of all the speculations, Isaac turned and yelled out to Jamie, “BRUV!”

“Yea, man? What’s got your knickers in a twist?”

“Your vest. Who made it?”

“Oh,” Jamie paused for a moment before remembering that Christmas had passed and it was now safe for him to answer, “me girlfriend. She’s a fucking knitting genius.”

#jamie tartt fanfiction #jamie tartt #jamie tartt x you #jamie tartt x reader #jamie tartt x ofc #jamie tartt x y/n