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#even on my bad days I know I got all my lil loves in my phone there for me 💙
rosesaints ¡ 7 hours
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✧・゚: *✧・゚:* IT'S GETTING HOT IN HERE — jjk men and summer
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// now playing the songs of the summer: g. satoru, t. fushiguro, g. suguru, c. kamo, n. kento
summary: hot, filthy, nasty sex with the jjk sex inspired by hot summer things and my summer 2024 playlist! warnings: 18+ mdni, fem!reader, degradation (gojo), public sex, rough sex (all lol), oral f!receiving (choso), all of them are literally matching each other's freaks in public, it's crazy
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: ̗̀➛ GOJO SATORU
now playing: SUNDRESS by A$AP ROCKY .ᐟ
shopping sprees after seeing you in a pretty lil' sundress, grabbing your ass in public, sneaking kisses in the fitting room, curious hands sliding up your thighs on a picnic surrounding by dozens of designer bags, laughs muffled against the sunkissed skin of your shoulder.
the first time gojo sees you in a sundress has him urgently dialing up his bank to increase his credit card limit. "listen, i don't give a shit, make it happen—" shuts his phone off and looks at you in that devious smile you've grown accustomed to seeing when he has something up his sleeve.
he looks you up and down, lingers on the silky smooth expanse of your legs and lets his scorching gaze travel up to where you're showing off a generous amount of cleavage. he resists a groan, settles for grabbing you by your waist instead. "you down to go shopping, sweetheart?"
a fucking menace to retail workers everywhere, barely tries to hide the fact that he's sneaking into your fitting room, just shoves several hundred dollar bills into the hands of the nearest worker. "satoru! there's people outside—"
"just gotta stay quiet, yeah?" he rolls up the backside of your dress, hurriedly pressing you up against the nearest surface as you feel his hard length rubbing up against your cunt, excited and eager and already dripping with pre-cum. despite yourself, you moan. "already bought out the store anyway. fuck, you're so hot."
he's so mean, pinching and rolling the bud of your nipple in that rough way that he knows drives you crazy, sends you gasping and squirming for more. slaps your ass—vulgar, obscene, filthy—chuckling behind you when you yelp.
"been thinking about fucking you in this slutty little dress all day. gonna fuck you in every single one of these dresses."
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: ̗̀➛ TOJI FUSHIGURO
now playing: I DON'T WANNA FALL IN LOVE by KYLE .ᐟ
the fleeting feeling of a summer fling, scorching gazes under the sun, straps falling over your shoulders, watching muscles flex under tight compression shirts, letting ice cream dribble down your lips.
sometimes, toji just makes it so easy. he doesn't wanna do anything serious? fine. you've been at it all day, bending down in your tiny little tops and shorts when you know you're in his line of vision, licking your popsicle slowly and sensually, making eye contact with him as a drop falls on your chest and scooping it up with a lithe finger, sucking it clean. to his credit, toji doesn't break. barely even reacts.
but you see the way his fists clench and the subtle way a vein pops out of his forehead, and it makes you grin in victory. you walk away from him with more sway and confidence in your hips, and he follows after you nevertheless like a looming rain cloud.
when you close the door behind you to finally, finally confront the consequences of your actions, he only mutters three simple words. "are you done?"
"not quite."
later, when he wraps a heavy hand around your hair, and forces you to look at the mirror, at your debauched and wrecked state, eyes rolling back and drooling as he fucks you hard from behind, victory somehow tastes even sweeter. "this what you want, sweetheart? this what you wanted to get out of teasing me all day? brat. you've got some audacity. where's all that fire now, huh?"
"make me yours, toji," you babble, grasping onto nothing as you push your hips back to meet his punishing thrusts. "'s what i want, all i want, please."
"too fucking bad," he emphasizes each word with a thrust. "only good girls get what they want."
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: ̗̀➛ GETO SUGURU
now playing: SEX ON THE BEACH by PARTYNEXTDOOR .ᐟ
bass reverberating through your skull at a house party, hazy with smoke and that flighty, weightless feeling of seeing someone across the bonfire, dancing up against someone you don't quite know, smoking a cigarette together behind the house, rings that leave goosebumps on your skin.
"that's it, there you go, get them wet for me," geto's pushing his ringed fingers into your mouth, and you can feel the cold metal clashing against the hot velvet of your mouth. he tastes like bergamot and tea and leather. when he goes a little too far back, you gag, and the noise sends an electric shock down his spine. he pulls his fingers out and appraises them, digits shining in the moonlight. it makes your throat run dry. "think they're soaked enough for you?"
he hums, looks you up and down with impossibly dark eyes. "guess we'll see."
it should make you feel a little bit scared, the way he's got you spreading your legs for him just outside the party. you can literally hear people on the floor above you, laughing and blasting music. salt air and cigarette smoke lingering in the air as he pulls your panties to the side and circles your cunt, once, twice, before one finger slips in, relishing the way your eyes go wide and lips fall slightly open.
"you're shameless, aren't you?" his question has you clenching your legs, closing your eyes as the lewd noises of his fingers pumping in and out gets louder and faster. "letting me do this to you where anyone could see?"
"m—mhm," your head's going fuzzy at the edges, rutting into his hand and eyes rolling back at the delicious friction. you know how desperate and depraved you must look, but you can't find it in you to particularly care, not with the way geto's looking at you like you hung the moon itself. "give me another one, i can take it, please—"
his fingers stop in their tracks, and you find yourself whining, begging him to continue. geto's eyes darkens. "you think you deserve it?"
"prove it to me."
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: ̗̀➛ CHOSO KAMO
now playing: TIME TO PRETEND by MGMT .ᐟ
spontaneous road trips at 2 AM, running through a gas station in the dead of night, slushies and cotton candy and junk food, sugar rushes, like hanging out of the sunroof while the love of your life drives through a windy tunnel, laughs echoing around you.
choso is just so fun to hang out with. usually so calm and reserved, you were surprised when he agreed to a day full of stereotypical summer fun, driving around doing dumb shit together and allowing him to just feel. "i'll go where you go."
something was so effortless, so easy and comforting about the feeling of his hand on your calf as you hung out of the sun roof, his arms around you as you watched the sunset, sharing a snow cone together in the car, laughing as it dripped down on to the hot leather seats of his car.
of course, all sugar rushes have to come down. but they don't necessarily have to just yet.
it's what leads you to reach across the console and clamber on to his lap, lips meeting his to taste the artificial sweeteners that lingered on his tongue. you pull back to momentarily glance at the dumbstruck look on his face, smiling slyly, "tastes delicious."
"oh fuck, oh fuck—" he's got you spread over the backseat, and he's licking hot, searing stripes onto your cunt, ravenous and insatiable and tongue pumping in and out of you at a pace that has you seeing god.
you watch, mesmerized, as he takes another bite of the snowcone before plunging back in, the mixture of his hot tongue and the cold ice of the cone sending delicious, exquisite shivers down your spine.
"you're so sweet," choso hums into your pussy, smiling when he hears you gasp and writhe underneath his tongue. "you taste like a dream come true."
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: ̗̀➛ NANAMI KENTO
now playing: SUMMER BUMMER by LANA DEL REY .ᐟ
night swimming in pools, drinking expensive wine and having dinner by the beach, the feeling of a hand on your back, lounging on soft sand with the breeze in your hair, head in his lap as he reads to you.
nanami wines and dines you like he's still pursuing you. for him, it means reserving that seaside restaurant he knows you've been eyeing for months, helping you get ready at your apartment, zipping up the long dress he specifically bought for you for the occasion, and pressing a kiss to the top of your head. holds your hand all the way into the restaurant, pulls your chair back for you, and looking at you with so much love and adoration it hurts.
he loves you so much, that he lets you tease him under the table as you look over the menu. his breath hitches when your free hand goes to unzip his pants, but tries not to let his expression betray the filthy, depraved things you're about to do to him.
you order your appetizer and drinks without breaking a sweat but pumping him with so much ferocity that he stumbles over his words multiple times while trying to order for himself. you smile at him sweetly nonetheless, like nothing's wrong.
he comes with a silent gasp when you rub over his tip in just the right way, eyes widening in shock as you pull your hand back just when the server sets your appetizer down. watches intently as you delightfully take one of the hors d'oeuvres and take a bit, tongue brushing against your fingers, the ones that have just finished him off. "thanks, nanami!"
something in him snaps.
nanami takes a sip of wine and readjusts his tie. he'll deal with you later.
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© ROSESAINTS ! — do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own. requests are open.
494 notes ¡ View notes
opal-owl-flight ¡ 3 days
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Quick lore question, did marie considering the idea of replacing 4 play into the insecurities she has later?
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Absolutely.
I wanna preface this by saying one thing: Young 4 was a COMPLETELY different person before she got recruited by Marie. And Marie...responds to her accordingly.
Long read abt Hero2 events below!! Its. A lil messy sorry qisjke these are my notes
Young 4? A bitch.
Everything she ever wanted was given to her. Moved out of the highlands with an ego the size of a planet (and also bc she felt suffocated there), thinking she can make it in the big city.
...she struggled to make it alone. She had moved out bc her family was suffocating her with love, but now theyre not here, so now she feels homesick and underappreciated.
All that is expressed by her harsh, bitchy attitude. Shes gonna be mean bc no one has seen her for who she is. She'll show them!!
She finds her way around like this, and discovers that shes just as good at turf war here and at home. In fact, shes *so* good that she got the status of a rising star!
It aaalll just gets into her head. Shes "proven everyone wrong" now. Shes got the superiority complex and can back it up.
Marie...
...saw this. She was looking for a new agent to help find the missing zapfish. The second 4 heard this from her, she flexed her arms and...
"Look no further, your hero is RIGHT HERE!"
Marie at first adored the spunkiness of this new agent. Uuuntil 4 started thinking that shes better than her.
"Watch out, Agent Four!"
"You watch YOURSELF, grandma! Think Im a damn idiot to not see that coming? WAHA!"
Marie rolled up her sleeves after several stages full of her ignoring orders or sassing her out of nowhere.
Is that how shes gonna be? Fine.
When 4 finally trips and falls, hard, on a particularly difficult level, Marie pulls her to the side to fix her up and give her a lecture that tore her fucking ego to shreds.
She says something so fucking harsh like "That attitude will make SURE that you die sad and alone. I wonder how anyone puts up with you."
4s too hurt by her own failure to say anything back.
The reality of war finally gives her a reality check. Each victory is earned. its her life on the line. And the world.
She regains her spunk after saving the world.
------
Silly 4. She gets the job done but it takes a LOT of pushing in the mid-stages. Its like she got legitimately bored after the initial super easy ones, and thought the entire campaign a joke.
She went back to her turfing life topside between stages. And she takes a WHILE to come back to her missions -- usually late!! And then before she even goes in she just HAS to yak Marie's face off with what she was doing up there.
"Youre late."
"You shouldve SEEN ME, Marie!! I was carrying that Rainmaker round! I was-"
"Pray tell, Agent Four. How will you keep participating in turf with the Zapfish gone?"
"Whaat? Cmon. Nothing seems to be changing! Theres still power through the city!"
"The backup supply wont last forever, you know."
"Yeah yeah. Okay. Im here now. Wheres the next kettle?"
This attitude is from her high school days, clearly. She breezes by everything so fast that she can afford to do things last minute. It affects even this.
That, alongside her talking smack back to Marie, is what makes her snap at 4. Its what makes 4 stick to the mission fully starting late area 4 and area 5. (This is also around the time 4s life was threatened. God help me in those stupid platforming stages)
Post Hero2, 4 more or less does what 3 does. Shes the "replacement" til 3 comes back. (That cant be good for her confidence.)
At the same time, she has to deal with Callie and Marie talking out what the fuck Callie did with Octaria. "THEY SQUIDNAPPED GRAMPS!!!" and all. Why help them??? They get into squabbles where 4 was the unfortunate witness to. And peacemaker. It does NOT help that Callie for a while kept putting the glasses back on!!!
4 wishes so bad she had help of any sort. She feels 3 might be able to do something but what does she know?? Shes never met em!! She just imagines what the missing agent would do in that situation.
Callie...was also the person she got close to. Shes fun (unlike the stuck up Marie), shes empathic, she opened 4s eyes to the Octarian plight. It made her acceptance of 8 later much smoother.
Im not saying shes not close to Marie either, I bet they healed their relationship around this year too. Marie's sorry she tore 4s ego the way she did (even if deserved...). Marie's much more supportive of what 4s doing topside. Shes expressing her pride in the agent she found much more openly. (She brags abt her to Callie at times.)
The three of them heal together in that time. 4 sees them as older sisters Im p sure. Theyre both giving her tips for turfing and -- Marie even helps her with homework, HAH
And...while I say that 4 and Marie are in better terms, there are still days where Marie blows up on her. Lesser extent than before, but shes *worried* for her agent! (Its a similar plight 3 has.) In those times, its Callie who has her back. ("Hey! Its not like shes not trying!!" Callie understands how it is, and she also knows Marie best -- shes the one who makes 4 understand where Marie is coming from.)
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clubdionysus ¡ 19 hours
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[BAD DECISION #37] Faking It
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warnings: pleased be seated for THE JANITORS CLOSET hehe, and iconic chapter in the bd universe. seokjin! pregnancy scares! tittie worship, thigh riding, semi-public, a lil self-pleasure, multiple orgasms, kissing <33, cum in panties??, idk, one of my fave bd smut scenes and they don't even shag! there's a lot of plot in there. all the fave characters!! and the biggest villains!!
a/n: i figured out the wrong headers!! this header was actually the og 36 header and the og 37 header is what I used for 36 lol
also also also i knew i said there would be more updates tonight buuuut I finished write #60 today so I'm editing that instead hehe. there's a direct reference to something said in this chapter in #60!
wc: 18k
bd total wc: 540k (ongoing)
AO3 | MASTERLIST | MINORS DNI
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In the quiet bustle of Jeongguk's favourite downtown cafe, Yoongi frowns.
"Are you even listening to me, Gguk?"
On the table sits a half-drunk coffee, the bitter taste a little too much for Jeongguk at this time in the morning. Notebooks open, pens scattered on the driftwood table, Jeongguk has spent the morning earnestly scrawling down revisions to his business plan.
The centrepiece of the table - a single white rose in a thin vase has been put on an empty seat. Just would have been in the way.
Also kind of made Jeongguk's blood boil, but he knows he shouldn't be irrationally angry at a fucking flower. A nice one at that. An expensive one.
Just like Seokjin had made sure to remind you on his calling card.
Happy Birthday, Darling. Exquisite roses for an exquisite girl. You can pretend they're from your new guy if you like - I'm sure he agrees you deserve the best that money can buy. All my love x
Stupid prick hadn't signed his name, but he has set a precedent. There's only one person who'd send you white roses. Not just a dozen. Not two dozen. Three fucking dozen. Thirty-six.
36 identical, soulless roses destined to die within a week or so, already embarking on their demise.
Danbi had snorted. "What's that? A rose for each time he cheated?"
You had smiled. Shook your head. "Think four dozen would be needed for that."
Jeongguk had been with you when you'd redistributed the roses to your CU ajumma aunties, and had to deal with their scrutinising eyes. Had smiled, and played nicely, even when they called Seokjin the 'handsome one'. As much as he might hate that tall mother fucker, he's got a pair of eyes. Knows he's a bloody god.
And so Jeongguk had moved the rose on his table out of sight before he even realised that he would need to.
The display of his iPad, which is still covered in your small fingerprints from lazy days wasted in his bedroom, has dimmed. It obscures the last revision of the plan. Hides it away from prying eyes.
A work in progress for years, now, he started planning for the samgyeopsal restaurant during his first semester of university. Had been a hypothetical project that he just hasn't been able to let go of. Like a first love, it kept coming back to the forefront of his mind.
For a little while - he's not sure how long; three, maybe four minutes - Jeongguk has been watching the beads of condensation sweat down the side of his glass. The straw, given to him by a barista with a warm smile and nothing else remotely interesting about her, lays beside the glass, still encased in its plastic wrapper.
He hears your voice and its tone of concern each and every time he raises the now-wet glass to his lips.
Careful, Koo. It'll hurt your teeth.
With every fabricated iteration of your concern, his mile-a-minute heart temporarily eases. For those scarce moments, it doesn't feel as if it'll burst straight out of his chest from the sheer exhausting stress of the unknown; His future. Yours. The one that you may or may not have together.
Funny how you're the main source of his stresses right now, and yet are the only thing able to ease them.
And so the straw remains as it is - still, untouched - just so he can pretend you care.
Dazed and most definitely confused when he looks up, Jeongguk's vacant eyes land on Yoongi. There's a frown on the older mans face, but a softness to his eyes.
"Hm?" Jeongguk hums. "Sorry?"
Sighing, Yoongi reaches for the straw that Jeongguk has so purposefully left discarded. Snaps the thin plastic wrapper apart. Reaches over and pushes the straw through a cluster of stubborn ice that just refuses to melt. Helps his friend in a way that makes total sense, and yet Jeongguk's mind is so jumbled up that it almost feels an attack.
It's him who frowns, now. Dimples form in the creases between his lips and cheeks, a thick line making itself known in the ridge between his eyes. Yoongi pays it no notice. Simply says, "Coffee'll stain your teeth. You'll thank me when you're older."
Perhaps he will. For now, Jeongguk's teeth are still pearly white. He's no need to worry about them.
"What wrong with you, huh?" Yoongi presses. "Spent all of last week badgering me to help you out, and now that I am, you've been a world away all morning. What gives?"
For all of the words that he could use to rabbit on about you for hours upon hours, they all seem to be stuck in his throat, dryly swallowed down like bitter pills sticking against his oesophagus.
To mention you now would be to admit that you occupy all vacancies inside his brain, in each and every waking moment. You're there in the moments he doesn't spend awake, too. A constant. Just as permanent as the glitter that's trapped between the woven threads of his cotton comforter, and as deeply embedded into him as the tattoos on his skin.
Pressing his lips together, piercing flipping in the corner of his mouth like it so often does, Jeongguk shrugs. "Sorry. Think my brain is shutting down."
If Yoongi suspects anything other than this as a viable excuse, he doesn't mention it. Just nods. Accept the white lie, and Jeongguk hopes he knows there's a white flag tied around it, too.
It's not that he wants to lie to Yoongi. He just doesn't want to be honest with himself.
Phone face down on the table, Jeongguk's device holds a whole host of contradictory search terms in his browser history. Questions he could probably ask Yoongi, but won't. Questions he should ask you, but most definitely won't.
Girlfriend - cause he figures it will bring back more results than fwb, or whatever else he could equate you to - missed her period, what should I do? Do girls miss periods often? Missed period, meaning, what? Having a baby with fwb, what now? Abortions? What if an abortion doesn't work? Is adoption good for the baby? How to be a single dad? What if only one person wants to keep it? What the fuck oenejoiegohhfo e.
The final result is still open in his browser. Was about three in the morning. Jeongguk had been sweating beneath his duvet, skin just as clammy as the condensation rings that have soaked into the wooden table from his iced coffee glass.
Nothing is confirmed. No test has been done - and yet he's thinking about where a playmat would fit in the living room, but also knows the name of the clinic downtown that would quickly and effectively prevent that from ever being his reality.
"We've made good progress," Yoongi tells Jeongguk. "Can take a break, if you like? Got a couple weeks till your meeting with the bank. Still got time."
There's no place in Jeongguk's business plan for a baby. He half wonders if maybe he should ask Yoongi where to factor it in. Knows better.
So instead, Jeongguk nods. "Yeah. Think that might be good. Sorry."
Yoongi just dismisses it. Tells Jeongguk it's fine, and really means it. Knows that trying to straighten out the fine details of a hypothetical business is harder than it would first appear. They've been troubleshooting; thinking of problems just for the sake of it. Making sure that Jeongguk's application for a business loan is airtight.
Of all of his friends, Yoongi is the only one who's ever been through anything similar. Is a fountain of knowledge with a wealth of experience that he's lucky enough to have access to.
Jeongguk half-thinks he must be mad for jumping in head first with this restaurant idea of his. Isn't sure he's got what it takes. Just knows he has to at least try, so he can say he can. So that even if he suffers the lows of failure, he will have experienced the highs of hope. Maybe even the uncharted territory of success.
"Could be a good idea to talk some things through with other people," Yoongi offers. "Someone in hospitality. Maybe DB. Get different scenarios neither of us have thought of yet."
Jeongguk doesn't need any more make-believe scenarios where you're involved. Has already thought of far too many all by himself.
But Yoongi doesn't know that, and Jeongguk would like to keep it that way. "Yeah. Maybe you're right."
It's this encouragement from Yoongi that has a text from Jeongguk pinging through to your phone a quarter of an hour later. Phone in your back pocket, you'll check the notification that buzzed quietly in a moment or so.
For now, you're locked in conversation with a woman who is both everything you fear and everything you want to be. Peachy-cheeked, with a crystal white smile and lips that are somehow perpetually glossed, Jina has been talking you through the upcoming event that Taehyung is showcasing for at the Ryu.
"I was really impressed - hold on," she huff a little through the strain of reaching across the desk for her file. You immediately get to your feet to help her out. Her peach cheeks are now pretty pink apples. She exhales a deep-rooted breath and plonks back into her own chair. Laughs at herself, and her inability to do even the simplest of tasks, then rests her hand adoringly over the incredibly large bump that protrudes from her stomach. Is appreciative as she says, "Thank you." Looks down to her bump, and laughs again. "Hurry up, now. Mummy has jobs to do."
The way Jina speaks to the little life that's growing inside of her makes you want to violently vomit. Not for disgust, or anything negative, but for the fact that you're terrified of a similar fate.
Well-put together, still in designer garments, Jina has her life together. Is the Lead Gallery Coordinator at the Ryu. Spent her twenties working her way up, only to land her spot at the top two weeks before she welcomed in her thirties. She's distinguished. Had worked damn hard to stay at the top, even when her assistant is consistently trying to fill the shoes she hasn't even taken off yet.
It's why she's still working, even when her due date is within touching distance. Will be damned if some jumped up twat that studied illustration at the expense of his wealthy parents, and has never actually produced an illustration worthy of any praise, ends up behind her desk. Perhaps she's jaded, and perhaps she's bitter that she never got an easy ride, but she did at least have passion - which is more than can be said for her assistant. The only reason she keeps him on is because his parents are benefactors of the gallery. Can't fire him, even if she wants to.
"Sorry," she smiles back up at you, then hums. Ponders. Pregnancy brain is not being kind to her these days. "Where was I?"
With a kind smile, you happily remind her. "You were saying you were impressed?"
"Ah, yes! I was. I am. With the both of you, actually. Kim Taehyung is producing art that actually entices people, which is a rarity these days. I'm surprised his portfolio wasn't passed onto me sooner."
Although when she considers her assistant, the surprise wanes.
"And you," she continues, then looks down to flick through the proposed show in the file you put together earlier that day. "You say you're just doing this part-time? As a favour?"
Nodding, you explain, "Taehyung's a friend, and this is my area of interest. Should have gone down this route straight after university, but you know what the industry is like."
With a pitiful smile, Jina nods. "No money in it unless you already have money."
It's no secret that the arts are a luxury for those who can afford them - not just the masterpieces themselves, but the time to indulge in them. Apprenticeships and internships pay poorly, so in order to get your foot on the ladder, you have to come from money. Have to be able to rely on parents, or aunts, or uncles to fund your living expenses while you live out your dreams.
Wasn't an option you'd had, so a compromise had been made in the form of the art cafe. It's minimum wage, but you do at least enjoy it and can pay the bills.
At such a point in her career where the money is good enough for her to never worry about finances, Jina's heart bleeds for you. From one creative to another, she wishes there was a way she could help.
"You've got everything I'd look for in an assistant," she tells you, and the compliment just serves to make you feel disappointed. Success has always been a goal of yours, and you regret not working harder towards it. The past year has taught you many things, but mainly it's reinforced the idea that you shouldn't spend time on things or people who don't enrich your heart.
And so you throw caution to the wind; chance a suggestion that you know is beyond your capabilities.
"Well, perhaps I could help out when you're on maternity leave?" You chance. Know that you don't have enough experience nor credentials to take on her role, but fuck it. What's the worst she could do? Say no? "Help keep things running smoothly?"
When Jina smiles, you know that rejection is coming your way - but at least you tried.
"No money in the job," she sighs. "The gallery director hasn't opened up a vacancy. My assistant is stepping up."
Even saying it out loud makes her blood boil - but she knows it's bad for the baby, so tries to cool it.
"I have a sneaky suspicion that they'll open up a vacancy in April. Maybe May. When it does, you'd be top of my list for recommendations," she offers. Knows that things are gonna fall apart without her there. The higher-ups won't realise what a fundamental error of judgement they've made until it's too late. "That if you'd be interested?"
You don't think you've ever been asked such a stupid question.
This is a lie.
You've spent time with the Dionysus boys. Have been asked a million questions than this one.
"Of course!" You enthuse. "I mean, I don't get me wrong, I love my job - but an opportunity like this would be... I don't even know," you laugh, unable to articulate yourself properly, so try simplicity. "Yes. Please. If that happens, please pass along my details."
She nods. Understands your excitement. Was in a very similar position, once upon a time. All it took was someone taking a chance on her. She'd like to do the same for you. Has seen your work ethic for an unpaid favour to a friend. Knows you wouldn't let her down.
"Now," she smiles, moving along the conversation as to not dwell on a situation that might never happen. "We're about a week out from the next show - has Taehyung finished the new piece? Any causes for concern?"
"Yes, and no," you assure her, even if it is a little lie.
Taehyung scrapped his piece last minute and has been in the studio ever since your birthday. Had a new wave of inspiration, apparently. Declared as such about twenty minutes after the knocking from Danbi's bedroom had eventually come to an end, so you dread to think of what this new piece could be like.
Still, you trust his creative process, so know that whatever he produces will be more than enough to satisfy the gallery execs.
The meeting runs smoothly; no hiccups to iron out. The subway ride back to the middle of town has to contemplate what life could be like had you met Taehyung earlier; if you could have a career to be proud of by now.
But there was no Taehyung without Jeongguk, and no Jeongguk without the devastating impact of Seokjin. Funny, how the entire time you were with Seokjin, he'd wished you had a better job. Lamented the minimum wage, and your irregular working hours. Would steer the direction away from what the pays the bills whenever you'd meet one of his friends, and they'd ask, 'what do you do for work?'. He'd never been proud, and so in turn, nor had you.
You wonder if he'd be proud now. It's bittersweet.
And as you arrive at Jeongguk's favourite cafe and spot him immediately - chin in his palm, a soft pout on his lips, papers scattered all over his table - you're the one who feels proud.
Seeing the ones you love chase their dreams is a special sort of pride. One that makes your heart swell. So much potential. So much hope.
Ordering up fresh drinks before you head over, there's a thick tension in the air. Jeongguk doesn't even realise you're here yet. Is too consumed with thoughts of you, like the idiot he is. Thoughts you, and his future, and how he doesn't know how to plan anything when he doesn't know what life will look like a year from now.
He clocks you as you're confirming the order with the barista. A hot flash of panic disrupts his body, but it cools just as quickly. Fucks with his body temperature regulation. Makes him feel all clammy and horrible despite the aircon in the cafe.
There's a smile on your lips, and Jeongguk finds one on his, too. There's a shine to his eyes that only glitters whenever you're nearby, and it's noticeable all the way from across the cafe.
Coffees in hand, clothes remarkably formal for a day off, Jeongguk narrows his eyes as you approach.
"What have you been up to?" he queries instead of greeting you properly, not caring for small-talk. Wants to know the big stuff. His brain has been cruel to him today. Hopes you can help remedy it slightly.
"Gallery," you simply say, taking the seat beside him.
There are four chairs at the table. Yoongi had been sitting opposite Jeongguk. You could have chosen to sit there, too.
He doesn't mention it.
"Everything going alright?" He asks, reaching over for his coffee with a small, appreciative smile. "Thanks."
"All good, I think," you say, sucking a little air between your teeth.
He cocks a brow. "You don't sound convinced."
With a bit of a defeated shrug, you purse your lips together. "I just..."
The way you trail off is all too familiar. Jeongguk's used to it. Has been a while since you struggled to find your words so badly.
"Big girl words," he teases softly, which earns him a small laugh from you.
"Fuck off," you smile, then shake your head to realign your thoughts. "No, I just... Sorry. Did it again. I just don't know how sustainable this all is, yanno?"
Jeongguk doesn't say a word. Knows that you aren't done formulating just yet - and when you sigh, before launching into a little ramble, he's proven right.
"I mean, I'm already a shift down this week to help with prep, and next week I've had to book two days off work. And like, honestly, it's fine," you stress. "I enjoy it so much, but long term? When Tae's shows get bigger and bigger? I just dunno, Gguk. Dunno."
You want it to be long-term. Never knew it was something you wanted until you realised maybe you can't have it. Seem unattainable now in a way that you knew before you started helping Taehyung out. The thing so wonderful about dreams is that you fool yourself into thinking they can come true. You neglect rational thinking.
Confronted with the restraints of the industry, it's hard to ignore. Hard to pretend like you could still have it, if you really want it. Things like that don't happen for people like you.
"Well just wait until I get the restaurant going," he smiles, knowing he doesn't have a solution for you - but that he does have the ability to talk about the future with you in a way that doesn't feel all that terrifying. "When I'm super successful and have queues out the door, I'll hire you. Will pay you above minimum wage and let you work with Tae on the side."
"Oh yeah?" You grin, enthused by the childlike excitement in his sparkly eyes. "Gonna be a big hot shot restaurant owner?"
"I'll have you know, I'll be the CEO," he nods his head smugly.
"Oh, that's sexy," you tell him.
"I know."
You hum a little and then decide that a little flirt is okay. "Would be kinda hot, fucking the boss, wouldn't it?"
He raises a brow. Swipes his tongue along his bottom lip, wetting his lip ring as he toys with it. "Would be a HR nightmare."
"Would give me a reason to call you Sir."
"Don't," he smiles, eyes closing, teeth showing. Sweetness encapsulates him despite the stickiness of the scenario that's playing out inside his head right now. Shakes his head. Slowly opens his eyes to find you again. Laughs. "You're fuckin' trouble, Byeol."
"S'why you like me."
"True," he admits rather shamelessly. Doesn't fancy denying it today. Not to himself. Not to you. Not to the world around him.
The air between you gets thinner. Feels like you can only keep breathing if you keep your eyes on one another. Up, and up you go into the atmosphere. Any higher, and you'll be in the fucking stars.
"I hate to ask..." Jeongguk murmurs and you immediately feel your floating soul crash back down to earth. The stars are off-limits today. Your feet must remain firmly on the ground.
"Then don't," you say sharply, not wanting the conversation to go in the direction you know he's steering it in.
"Byeol," he simply reprimands, knowing that it's a conversation that needs to be had. "You've not given me any updates."
"'Cause there's been nothing to report back," you say, as if it's no big deal; as if you haven't spent every waking moment thinking about it. As if your daydreams aren't getting more and more concerning. "I've skipped a month. That's all. It's not that uncommon."
"Well, according to WebMD, apparently some women get periods even when they are pregnant - like, certified, tested, proven true pregnant," Jeongguk states, his late-night research coming to the forefront of his mind. "That's not supposed to happen. Just like you're not supposed to miss your periods when you're not pregnant-"
"Gguk," you plead. "It's not that linear. All sorts of things affect periods."
"I know," he replies, and bless his heart, he really does think he knows. "Stress, eating habits, exercise, medical issues - I've read, like, 6 articles about PCOS in the last 24 hours. Didn't even know what it was last week."
You're fond as you smile over at him. "Why have you been reading PCOS articles?"
" Because ," he stresses, but gives no immediate follow up. Looks over to you with pleading eyes, like a puppy dog waiting for scraps. "Look B, I don't know what's going on. You won't tell me what's going on. The best I can do is try and understand."
"I've told you, Gguk. It's fine. Please. Just trust me."
It's a naive ask, for him to trust you, when you don't even trust yourself.
"Will you please just take a test?" He asks. "The longer it takes, the less options you'll have. We'll have."
You know he's right. Know that there's a test waiting in your bedroom, and that you've spent hours looking at because you're terrified of a result. A positive result, that is.
You won't admit to the way that the idea of a negative result makes you feel. Not to Jeongguk, nor to yourself. It's not what you want. You know that it wouldn't fit into your life. You know that the idea of being in Jina's position would wreck any goals or plans for your life.
And then you're feeling defensive. Pressured. Overwhelmed.
"Look, I said it's fine," you insist, trying to reassure not only him, but yourself too. "I know my body. It just does this sometimes. If anything, I'm probably less fertile than I should be."
"Yeah, but you don't know that-"
"And you don't know that I'm not."
"B, this affects us both," Jeongguk says, his patience waning, tone firming. He's right.
"I know that!" You snap back, 'cause it feels like he's backing you into a corner. "You think I'm not aware? Gguk, if I am-" you refuse to say the word, then quieten your voice. Look around. Get a little closer. "If I am , then I'm the one who has to deal with it. I'm the one who has to live with it. I'm the one who has to experience it."
"Oh what, so suddenly I play no part in this?" He argues right back, but keeps his voice quiet. Mirrors you. Is right there in the corner with you. If this is a boxing match, then he's not your opponent; he's the coach giving you water in the break and patching you up. There's no need to see him as the enemy. "I'm not just some random fucking guy, B. I'm not about to jump ship."
"Okay, hypothetical," you say, encouraging him to use his imagination a little. Try and see things how you see them. "It's positive. I don't want it, you do. Then what? What do we do?"
He's silent for a moment. Looks a little defeated as he shrugs. Doesn't look at you. "We'd get rid."
And even though it's what you think is the correct answer - putting priority on the carrier of the child - it still makes you a little sad. There are layers to such a decision. It's not straightforward. The complexities are beyond what you're capable of considering. There is no 'correct' answer. There are just choices; the one that you take, and the ones that you don't.
It's a curse how vivid your imagination can be; how you can imagine the rough skin by the tips of his fingers as he'd hold your hand in the waiting room, the look in his eyes as you turn to steal a glance at him before going through a pair of double doors that would ultimately change the outcome of your future, and the sterile scent of a medical facility that you'd really rather never visit.
You can picture his smile; pretty but ever so weak. Gorgeous little lies of 'it's okay' wrapped up with bows that could have maybe one day been tied in a child's hair instead.
Pull yourself together, you scold yourself. You don't even want a kid!
"If I were to get rid of it, while you wanted it... Gguk, you would resent me for what I took from you until the day you died," you say solemnly.
The gravity of it all is setting in. A positive result would ruin your lives regardless of whichever option you choose.
The pair of you have been gambling, and it seems like your luck is out.
"I wouldn't," Jeongguk frowns.
"How do you know?"
"Well how can you be certain that I would?" he counters. Is desperately trying see your point of view, but it's obscured by his own opinion on the matter. "Look, none of this is worth us getting worked up about until we know what the fuck we're dealing with. You might not even be pregnant."
He's right. You know he's right. The word makes your stomach lurch regardless.
So you nod, but plead, "Just give me a little time. Please."
He agrees. Knows that you do at least have a little more time before any certain decisions would need to be made. Walks you home. Tells you to keep him updated.
But then one day turns into two, then three, then four - and before you know it, you're ignoring one another, trying to pretend like all of this isn't happening; as if nothing has changed, and as if you haven't potentially fucked it all up just 'cause you couldn't stop messing about.
It's laughable, really. Your insatiable need to fuck one another has become its own form of birth control. Jeongguk isn't even waking up hard these days. Too stressed. No worry of fucking, now. Dick seems to be broken.
In all reality, he knows that it's nothing to do with his cock. He's not waking up hard, 'cause there's a lack of blood flow. Heart isn't pumping it like it normally does. Goes with the territory of not having you around.
But if he acknowledges that, he acknowledges everything he stands to lose before he's even had a chance to have it. Have you .
It's what he's thinking of now - cock limp, scowl hard - the night before Taehyung's art show. It's been five days. You've not kept him updated. He's not asked for updates.
You've both been pathetic - but he's attributing it to you. Thinks you're deliberately being childish so that he won't think having a kid is a good idea - as if he even wants them right now.
Sitting on the couches of Taehyung's studio space, the usual suspects are up to nothing much. Just having a few drinks the night before the show. It's a bit of ritual - nothing set in stone, just kind of what happens. The easing of Taehyung's nerves means he always wants to indulge.
Stewing in the corner like a little parasite, Jeongguk's face of thunder hasn't eased all evening. He never gives a straight answer when he's asked about these little moods of his, so no one has bothered to press too hard. He is at least in attendance - which is more than can be said for you.
"It really doesn't matter," Taehyung smiles, unphased by Jeongguk, stroking Danbi's back as she scrolls through her phone, looking for outfit inspiration.
"Yeah, no offence Danbi, but everyone's gonna be looking at the art," Jimin mumbles through a mouthful of overpriced breadsticks. "No one is gonna care what you wear."
Rolling her eyes, Danbi doesn't care for his opinion. "So? I want people to look at me, which is why my outfit needs to good."
Still stroking her back, Taehyung is so incredibly fond of her unwavering self-assured place in the world. "People will be looking at you," he supports her. "What's DB wearing?"
Flicking through to your message thread, which had ended earlier that afternoon with a very blatant bullshit excuse for your lack of attendance, Danbi scrolls up to find the picture you'd sent her earlier that day.
"Oh, it's nice," Taehyung downplays it. Knows exactly why Danbi is desperate to find something showstopping. Will never let her be aware of this, though. What he does do, is make sure it reaches the right people. "She shown you, Gguk?"
The grunt that Jeongguk makes is barely audible. If there's one thing he doesn't want to see right now, it's you. Especially you looking all fancy and shit.
He's still annoyed. You haven't spoken to him since your fight other than to send him dumb instagram reels. Rabbits hopping about. Shit like that. He smiles every damn time and it only serves to piss him off even more.
But, like the true nuisance she is, Danbi forwards the picture through to Jeongguk. She hasn't heard directly from you that you're fighting with Jeongguk, but anyone who has spent time with the both of you in the last few days will be able to figure it out.
Jeongguk knows better than to click through on the notification. Knows that if you wanted him to know what you're wearing, you would have shown him.
But he misses you.
Wants to see you, even if he knows it will only serve to annoy him even more.
He's proven right.
Standing in front of your mirror - the one used for your first selfie with the bird necklace on Christmas Eve, and also used for your own sadistic pleasure on that very first evening Jeongguk learned what it felt like to be yours - you're in a black dress.
Satin, he thinks. Something silky. It's short, like your dresses so often are, cutting off midway down your thighs. Fitted. Sweetheart neckline that blooms over the top of your chest, with sleeves that follow this same structured line. Shoulders fully exposed, there is a small tickle of satisfaction when Jeongguk notices your bird sitting prettily in place, right where it should be.
Even if you are annoyed, like he knows you are, you're keeping him close. It's more than can be said for last time. You've no intention of pushing him away or so it would seem. He takes comfort in this, a self-indulgent smile on his lips - until he realises and flattens them once more.
"S'fine," he just says as he locks his phone, as if his heart isn't beating all irregularly. "I'm sure she'll look nice."
Danbi glances over to Taehyung, who just rolls his eyes, and encourages her to show him more of her own options.
Jeongguk pretends to scroll through his phone. Is really just looking at that picture of you again. Hates the way it makes him feel. All fuzzy and out of sync. Perfectly safe and yet terrified all in the same fleeting moment.
Has him thinking about what he should wear, too, even if the other boys are telling Danbi that it really doesn't matter.
You look so well put together, he thinks. So intentionally gorgeous. He would say unintentionally , and knows you'd look just as gorgeous in one of his old shirts, but is well aware that you've put effort in. It should be appreciated.
It's decided - at two-thirty in the morning, all alone by himself, contents of his wardrobe piled onto the floor - that Jeongguk will also be wearing all black.
He will match you. It will be intentional. He will hope you notice.
'Cause even if he is a little pissed off with you, it doesn't matter. Had grown up with parents who'd bicker, but would always say 'there's no one else I'd rather argue with.'
He thinks the same could be said for the pair of you.
If your worst fears are confirmed, and you're forever tied to him, then it's something you'll need to learn to navigate. Neither of you are perfect, but neither of you are pretending to be. You're showing him exactly who you are by showing him nothing at all, right now.
And he adores you all the fucking same.
Jeongguk decides on black slacks, and will pair them with a thick belt. A satin shirt will be tucked in, unbuttoned just enough for a little bit of his chest to show. Nothing too indecent. Just wants to match your neckline.
The jacket he's chosen is red. Hopes it'll dare you to look at him, and prevent you from ever looking away. He's being bold, 'cause he stupidly thinks he needs to be, as if you won't be searching for solace in the form of him all night.
He also thinks he needs to consider the kind of man you want . The kind you need . You seem to go for the prim types. The proper. Well-dressed, well-groomed. He's got the outfit sorted. Knows he's being a little risky with the lack of a top button and tie, but he also knows he looks good - so fuck it.
Which is also what he says to his barber on the morning of the show.
"You've been growing it out for a while," she hums. Only re-permed it a couple of weeks ago. Hadn't been expecting him to come for a walk-in appointment so soon.
He shrugs. "Fuck it. It's just hair. It'll grow back."
She laughs, and tells him that he's right - but double-checks before she goes in with the clippers. He's not had anything so close to the scalp in about a year. Started growing it out around the same time you started showing up to the bar.
He braces himself. Grits his teeth. Don't let fear get the better of you.
"I'm sure."
Time stands still within the walls of the Ryu. Moments of life - fleeting expressions of biased emotions - are preserved for voyeuristic viewing pleasure. You're a guilty participant. Salivate over the mixed media, and equally mixed messages. Have a desire to understand. To decipher. To know.
The walls are dark. Slate grey when the floodlights are on, they look black under the diffused bulbs that focus solely on the works.
'Unplugged: The Lonely Hearts of the Digital Age' reads the exhibition branding on the front of the paper guide in your hand. There's an evocative nature to the pieces; an exploration of intimacy and isolation in the modern landscape of smartphones and high-speed internet.
"Oh, entirely," you smile pleasantly at the gentleman twice your age, who had come to stand beside you while you had been observing some of the work. He's been asking your thoughts, and you've been bullshitting spectacularly. "In a world where we're more connected than ever before, there somehow seems to be this... disconnect . A real lack of interpersonal relationships that stand the test of time."
He nods, half-moon glasses resting across the bridge of his short nose. "Too easy these days. Dating apps, and whatnot."
You cast your eyes down to the fingers he has wrapped around a champagne flute. He's without a ring. You wonder if he's a victim to them, too.
"The grass is greener mentality," you agree. Know all too well what it's like to be on the receiving end of such a dilemma. "Always searching for something... more."
A small chuckle emits from his thin lips as he continues to agree.
One of the serving staff, no older than a high school senior, offers their tray of champagne in your direction, but you decline. It's unusual of you - but it's no secret you've not been feeling exactly 'usual' lately.
From across the room, Jeongguk glances in your direction as you shake your hand and head, a polite smile on your lips as you refuse a drink. Your eyes don't flash to his, but he doesn't need them to.
When your gaze falls back to the artwork in front of you, he can easily see your perplexion.
He also notices how your skin doesn't sparkle like it usually does beneath gallery lights. A tight frown forms on his face to match yours.
The paintings you're looking at aren't Taehyung's. Jeongguk doesn't know the artist. Oil, he assumes from this distance. Hyperrealism. Enlarged. A matching pair with stark differences.
The first, to the left, is dark. Navy blues and deep purples depict the foils of condom wrappers, each with a name and date scrawled into them. They're scattered atop what looks like a legal document.
He can't work out the words from where he is. Doesn't realise they're divorce papers.
None of the wrappers match the name of the document, yet all of the wrappers are dated during the duration of the marriage.
On the right hand side, the other painting is clearly part of the same collection. A packet of oral contraception. 28 days worth. Includes the placebo days. Like the condoms, each empty window of the contraception has a name. Some repeating. Some not. There are no names written during the placebo week.
It begs the question; is the taker of the contraception just using the men when it's convenient for her? Or are they just using her when it's convenient for them, and leaving her in the dust when her body is unavailable?
You're not sure which scenario makes you sadder. Reminds you of this time last year. Reminds you of Seokjin. Reminds you of the people that you used to forget about him on the lonely nights.
If you were to think about your own pills, and the names that would inscribed, you know you'd have packet after packet with only one name. Everyday of the week. Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday, every night. Over the placebo days, too.
Not because Jeongguk has been fucking you all day every day - although sometimes it does feel like that. No. It's not that all.
Instead, it would be because he gives you the intimacy you need to make those pills worth it. He doesn't have to constantly be in bed with you. Quite often isn't. It's just that you'll keep taking those pills 'cause you always want to be available for him in any capacity you can be. Those pills are his just as much as they are yours.
And you hate it.
Hate that you feel this way. Hate that indulging in such intimacy with the person you hold closest has resulted in such a clusterfuck of emotions. Hate that he isn't beside you right now, deciphering the names and making up ridiculous stories about the fictional people in front of you. Hate that when you glance over to his direction, you find him engaged in conversation with a group of people you consider friends, only to notice that Hayun is there, too.
Your arms fold a little tighter into your chest as your eyes fall back on the painting. You're alone, now, the man who had been chatting with you also now distracted by associates.
"Hey," a soft, feminine voice sounds next to you. Seoyeon. Hair loose, but with pretty little plaits running through it, she's wearing white trousers and a fitted blazer. Looks demure as ever. "You okay?"
A simple question that calls for a simple answer - yet it feels all rather complex.
You nod. Say you are. Return the question. She returns your answer.
"Gosh, that's depressing," she says of the artwork, and it makes you laugh. She's not wrong.
"Makes you feel something, at least," you offer, to which she hums in agreement.
"I suppose - but I was feeling perfectly happy before I saw it," she giggles, nudging your shoulder, seemingly aware of your less-than-stellar mood. "Watcha doing over here all alone?"
It's a great question. Fantastic question. Devastating answer.
Oh, so I've been fucking Jeongguk for months and he's convinced himself that I'm carrying his spawn and now he's mad at me because I haven't done the test to confirm nor deny. Oh why? Why I haven't done it? 'Cause it'll change the trajectory of my whole entire life and I'm fucking terrified. And I skip periods all the time. No biggie.
Now isn't the time for such honesties, though.
"Just wanted to read all the names," you say, nodding towards the art.
"See any you recognise?"
"Well, there is a Jimin on the first Wednesday," you grin.
"Why am I not surprised," Seoyeon laughs. "Our very own Casanova. Oh - speak of the devil!"
"Devil?" Jimin questions as he approaches you both with fresh champagne flutes in either hand. "Me? Please. You both know I'm an angel."
The way you incredulously both raise your eyebrows at him, bemused smirks on your faces, would suggest that no, you don't 'know' he's an angel.
"Oh, piss off," he laughs, standing between you both, offering you the champagne flutes. When you decline, he's curious. "Oh? Dry night?"
Nodding, you decide that you'll give as few answers as possible when it comes to your lack of drinking - not that it matters, given how much you've abused your body with star fuckers in recent weeks. Any damage is already, inevitably done.
"One of us needs to be the sensible one," you joke, and ignore the burning gaze you can feel from across the room.
His stare is sweltering, like early May heat after a freezing spring, regardless of the cool air that's currently circulating around the room.
It's stuffy, the way his eyes follow you. Suffocating.
And yet you love the warmth. Want evidence of him on your skin like the burn of a summer sun.
Turning your head as Seoyeon and Jimin natter, you're surprised to find his shamelessly dark eyes still on you.
Hair pushed back, he's wearing it shorter than usual. It takes you a moment to realise it's been cut. You think a part of you dies from such a devastating loss - but it's revitalised within the same millisecond. It's criminal how handsome he looks. How mature he seems. Jaw tense, bone structure highlighted, he's a vision. Heaven. Ethereal.
Matching your all black attire, there's one keen difference. One that throws you off entirely: his jacket. It's one you've never seen before. Red. A kaleidoscope of different tones. Dappled, they bleed into one another. You can tell it's expensive. Tell it's being worn with a purpose.
It's unusual for him, and yet he holds a beauty that can only be compared to that of Venus herself. The jacket was made for him.
But you don't like the idea that maybe actually it was made for him, by the only seamstress you know. See no other reason for him to own such an item.
Stupidly, it upsets you how good red looks on him. Pisses you off.
Across the circle of people he stands with is the seamstress herself.
Just as you match him with your silky black dress, she matches him with her scarlet nails and deep ruby cocktail number. Gorgeous in the way that her hair effortlessly waves over her shoulders, she pays your judgemental eyes no notice.
They look good together. Like they belong. A good girl. Upper class. Bad boy. Her bit of 'rough'. Jeongguk likes a good Romeo and Juliet type story. You're sure he loves the romanticisation of their coupling.
So caught up in your own head, you almost miss the way Jimin deliberately chooses to include you in on the conversation once more. Just asks your opinion on the piece, then asks if you know the artist. He wants to check that he's not the Jimin scrawled into the pill packet.
"I'll find out," you promise him - but you're certain he's not. Park Jimin isn't exactly the most unique of names, but you don't want to hurt his ego.
"Legend," he grins, before roping Namjoon in for his opinion on whether or not it's his name.
"It's nothing to be proud of," Namjoon assure him. "If it's you, you're being branded as a hit it and quit it kinda guy. You're only on there once. Most of them are on their a few times. You not good enough for round two?"
Scoffing, Jimin looks to you for defence.
You just smile. Make your excuses and leave. Bless him.
As beautiful as the show is, there's a sadness to it. It revives unpleasant memories. Provokes parts of your brain that have been well trained to not make a noise.
Schmoozing with some of the higher ups from Shilla finances, you're going for the hard sell. Telling them all about Taehyung, and how he's hotly tipped to be one of the most successful artists of this generation.
It's all bullshit, of course, but someone has to have that title. Why shouldn't it be him?
"He certainly does have a gift," one of the older men acknowledges. His name evades you now, but you remember him from networking events with Seokjin. Would always treat the serving staff with kindness, which is more than could be said for most of them. It's the only reason you're entertaining the conversation - the other men you recognise from those events have been avoided by you at all costs.
You're about to call Taehyung over, when the looming intrusion of a bowing gentleman makes itself known in your personal space. It's his presence you notice first. Aftershave second. Stoic, burly voice third.
"Director Choi," he interjects from behind you. "It's good to see you here."
Smiling, with just as much kindness as he shows to everyone, Choi nods back. "Kim Seokjin! I didn't realise you'd be here tonight."
"Ah, well," Seokjin smiles. You can hear it in his tone, even if you daren't turn to face him. Your skin suddenly chills as his large hands rest over the tops of your bare shoulders. "Was back in town, and couldn't miss it. You're speaking with the city's best curator."
The way he squeezes your shoulders, skin on skin, makes you want to be sick. It's as if you've had far too much of the champagne you've been turning down all evening - but your stomach is empty. All you'd be able to do is gag.
Yet your body is entirely frozen.
And neither of the men care enough to notice.
"It's quite the collection," Choi nods, but doesn't keep his focus on you. Like the serving staff, he's always polite to you, but will always see you as a second-class citizen. You're not a man. He doesn't respect you. As human? Yes, he does. But as a person? Why would he waste his time if he can't profit off of you? "Tell me Seokjin, how have you been? I hear your department is up by 3.7% this week?"
The conversation around you is stuffy, like that sticky summer heat clinging to your skin once more. It's unpleasant, but inescapable. There's nothing you can do, except let it ruin you.
One breath in; through the nose. One breath out; through the mouth.
Repeat.
One breath in; through the nose. One breath out; through the mouth.
There's a squeeze of Seokjin's hands; a silent instruction to not move your shoulders so much.
Half a breath in. Half a breath out.
You've an inability to focus on anything other than basic survival.
In the times you've seen Seokjin since the breakup, he's always been so good at acting as if it never happened. He touches you just the same. Speaks with just as much fondness that always made you think you actually meant something to him.
For so long, you wished he would be like that with you in public. Would proudly claim you as his own.
But now that he is, all you want is for him to look at you with remorse. Regret.
Sort of like Jeongguk is doing, as he spots you from across the room. Was just doing his quarter-of-an-hourly checks to make sure you're still okay - even if he is annoyed with you. Thinks that anyone who has ever spent even a smidgeon of time with you should know that the look in your eyes is far from okay.
They're downcast. To the floor. Your nostrils flare ever so gently as you inhale. Mouth forms a delicate pout as you exhale. Breathing exercises. He recognises them instantly. They're the same ones Jeongguk does when he's frustrated and trying his damn hardest to not break another display case.
It's been working lately. Not a permanent fix, no, but it's been going okay. Has finally been reading one of Namjoon's self-help books that's been on his bedside table for months. Fills the time that should be spent on you doing that, instead.
But Jeongguk thinks all of his hard work might just go down the fucking drain when he realises what's happening. When he notices exactly who has a possessive grip on you. When, from across the room, he hears Seokjin laughing at some vapid joke that he knows mustn't be even remotely funny.
"Hey, Dan," he calls over to your best friend, breaking her from her conversation with Taehyung. When she looks at Jeongguk, she follows the direction in which he nods.
She gasps. Drops her hold on Taehyung's forearm, and doesn't hesitate to beeline straight for you.
Jeongguk knows it should have been him - but he also knows you're stubborn. Knows you might have chosen to stay put just to spite him. Also knows that stress if bad for the body. Says so in another one of those webMD tabs open on his phone. You're stressed enough as it is. Don't need him causing a scene. Danbi is what you need right now.
Not him.
But he needs air - so heads out towards the stairwell and just keeps on going up. Up and up, until there's nowhere left to go. Closer and closer to the stars. Further and further away from his very own.
Elbows resting on the wall of the rooftop, Jeongguk lets a deep-rooted sigh exhale from his body. Lungs heavy in his chest, he's in need of respite - yet even that seems like an unattainable goal these days.
He wishes to be back in Busan; where the sun shines and so do you.
The darkness of the city envelopes him, now, much like it obscures his heart. Confuses it. Tells him all sorts of lies. She loves you. She loves you not. She loves you. She loves you not. He's not sure what's the truth, anymore.
He's not plucked at daisy petals since he was a kid, but he does occasionally pull glitter from his skin. That's when the rhyme repeats. That's how he knows he only has space in his heart for you.
And so when the bustling sound of the city is interrupted by a voice that isn't yours, he frowns.
"Watcha doing up here, buddy?"
The roll of Jeongguk's eyes is so damn weighted he's surprised it doesn't sound like stones are being turned. Of all the people he wants to be alone with right now, Hayun would be towards the bottom of the list. Likely beaten only by your shitbag of an ex.
"Needed some air," he lies. Doesn't look at her as she takes the space beside him, then shuffles over a little. Doesn't wanna touch her. The intrusion of her perfume is enough to make him feel sick. Has done ever since she approached him in the courtyard of Dionysus.
"Could have gone for a smoke with Tae," she says all rather pleasantly.
Jeongguk is well aware of this. Truth be told, he could do with a cigarette. Could do with many things right now.
Could do with a few shots, or even a high. MDMA, maybe. Something that'll have him thinking death is inevitable before he manages to reach his come up. Could spend the whole night pinging. Wouldn't have to think about you, or your ex, or the fact his heart already feels like it's got a little ecstasy running through it these days.
But you're not drinking, and so Jeongguk isn't smoking. Is finally actually trying to make some good decisions for a change, to atone for all of his questionable ones.
He shakes his head. Bunches his face up ever so slightly. Is dismissive as he simply says, "Didn't fancy it."
Just like he doesn't fancy engaging in this conversation.
She nods, pretending to care. Fabricating a persona that matches how awfully pretty she is. "You don't seem like yourself."
Mentally, Jeongguk sneers. Physically, he remains unchanged. Statuesque.
"You've been saying that ever since you came back," he eventually sighs. Looks over to her. Doesn't mean to be so cold, but frankly no longer has the patience. "You can't fuck people over and expect them to welcome you back with open arms. Doesn't work like that, Yun."
Hayun's laugh is parasitic. Gets under his skin. Crawls about. Makes him feel sick. His body rejects it.
"She's inside your head," is all she says. "Never used to be like this before she came around."
In the far distance, a police siren sounds. It's swallowed up by the fumes of rattling exhaust pipes and the posing arrival of planes from foreign lands. In a city that never rests, Jeongguk thinks it mad that Hayun expected him to remain exactly as he was.
Doesn't even register what she says about you. Pays it no attention.
"I don't wanna keep doing this, Hayun," Jeongguk says quietly.
It's strange, because he knows it's the 'right' thing to do, but it still doesn't feel entirely correct.
Years of knowing her - of loving her - have been reduced to nothing but resentment and wasted time. Everything he experienced with her equates to emptiness. The good - of which there was plenty - and the bad - of which there was marginally more.
"What do you mean?" she asks, as if she doesn't already know.
"I don't wanna pretend like we're still friends," he simply states. "It's doing nobody any favours."
It's something he should have said a long time ago. Something he's known for far longer than he's wanted to admit. Something Jimin has been telling him for years.
"Gguk," she tries, and reaches out for his hand - but Jeongguk tears it away from her.
"No," he reaffirms. Is setting boundaries. Is being as firm with her as he wishes you'd be with Seokjin. He keeps his voice measured. Sensible. Wastes no more energy than is needed. "I'll be perfectly cordial with you, but I'm not gonna act like we're anything more than strangers. Said it yourself, you don't know who I am these days. Please stop trying to find whoever you think I used to be."
"So I guess the marriage pact is vetoed?" She tries to joke. Thinks that making light of the situation will ease things. Make them less awkward.
He doesn't dignify her with a direct response to that. Instead, he stands a little straighter. Taps his ringed fingers against the wall so that a clunky pat sounds against the urethane coating that covers the entire roof area. Turns to face her. Looks down upon her. "I'm asking you nicely, Hayun - but if I have to ask again, I won't be."
There's nothing she can say to reel him back in. Not anymore. Not like she used to. She knows this. Hates this.
But one thing Hayun refuses to ever do is embarrass herself. Not for a man. Especially not for one she didn't even want that badly in the first place.
That's exactly the issue at hand, though. He was always the one chasing her. Always. Must have worn through a hundred pairs of shoes in pursuit of her - but he's stopped running now, and she can't quite wrap her head around it.
"Okay," she simply says. Smiles. It's insincere. Jeongguk doesn't realise this, 'cause it looks like every other fuckin' smile she's ever cast his way. "Look, emotions are high. I won't take this to heart. Whenever you're ready, you know where to find me."
Glancing over to the door, Hayun's ruby-red lips falter. Her smile almost cracks, but she holds herself well.
"Oh, goodie," Hayun hums. "Suppose I should leave you to it."
Jeongguk doesn't follow her gaze. Knows that there's only one person who could evoke such a reaction - and right now, he's annoyed with you, too.
He does, at least, say, "I suppose you should."
It's not until Hayun begins to strut away that Jeongguk turns to the door. Not to watch her walk away, no.
To watch you walk towards him, instead - but you don't.
You stay leant against the door frame. There's a sultry smile on your lips, and he's surprised to see they move a little as Hayun approaches. He can't hear you, but he knows your lips almost better than he knows his own. Can work out exactly what you're saying.
Lipstick's a little smudged.
Jeongguk knows that it absolutely is not - but the way Hayun's hand lifts to her lips suggests that she doesn't know this.
It's evident you're trying to evoke some sort of insecurity in her. Seems to have worked. Also seems to be incredibly mean-spirited - but he's not gonna hold it against you. Knows that it's the least Hayun deserves. It's not like he was exactly kind to Seokjin upon meeting him, either.
The sounds of the city echo out around you as a small breeze carries the scent of the trees that are finally starting to rebloom after a harsh winter. There's hope to be found in the darkness of this night. The promise of rebirth.
Or at least there is, until you begin to make excuses to leave.
"Just came up for some air," you explain, not looking to engage in conversation with him. If anything, you just feel like you're losing your breath.
He nods. Purses his lips. Turns away from you. Hopes you'll come to join him.
There's a you-sized spot right beside him. Hayun had tried forcing her way in, but the fit just wasn't right.
His broad shoulders widen as his elbows rest back upon the wall, body silhouetted in the skyline. Something about him today feels so new. So different. Maybe it's just the hair - but hair holds history. You feel like he's cut you out of his. Is starting afresh, maybe.
Whatever the case, he's clearly not concerned in inviting you into his current narrative. Is quite literally blocking you out.
You had arrived to find him locked in conversation with Hayun. Engaged. He'd watched her walk away, and the moment she was gone, couldn't stand the sight of you, or so it seems.
And so as Jeongguk waits - wishes - for you to walk towards him and slink your arm around his waist, you decide to cut your losses. Hadn't even come up to the roof to see him. Had been hoping to be alone after the whole Seokjin debacle.
It's not like you hadn't known Seokjin would be in attendance tonight.
He had messaged you to confirm the date. You just hadn't expected him to waltz in like a proud partner, parading you around in front of his colleagues.
So yeah, you had been shocked. Had been unable to respond in a way that accurately conveyed how you felt. Had panicked. Had cried in the storage room that Danbi had dragged you into while she gave you a pep talk and wiped away your stray tears, before suggesting you get some air.
You wonder if perhaps she knew Jeongguk would be here. Seems likely, knowing her.
Your lip trembles as you go to speak, unspoken words vibrating between them. There's no sound. Just the city. The cars, and the revellers from a bar a few blocks down. Jazz music echoing up the stairs to the rooftop, too.
And then there's Jeongguk's voice. Quiet. Controlled. Commanding.
"The first bird," he says. Looks down as he does so. Builds his confidence, then turns around to look at you. Is displeased to see your body facing away from him now, about to walk away - as if you hadn't instantly turned your head to look at him. "The first one. We went to the water park. Some guy looked at you in a way you didn't like, and you went straight on over and told him to stop being a perv. Remember?"
Of course you do.
But you say nothing. Do nothing. Just turn your body. Let him know you're listening. He continues.
"You know your limits, B. You know your boundaries."
You nod, now. Still stay silent.
Jeongguk's jaw grates, tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek. You're avoiding his confrontation, just like you've been avoiding all talks of anything serious since that day at the cafe.
And it's pissing him off.
"So why do you let him overstep them?" Jeongguk continues - and finally, this accusation gets a rise from you.
"I don't let him do anything," you scoff - and then you accuse. "You're the one I've just found hiding up on the rooftop with your ex. What about those boundaries, huh?"
Jeongguk rolls his eyes. Turns away from you. Looks out over the city, and wishes it would swallow him whole. "You've got no fuckin' idea, B. No idea."
"So then tell me!" You say, as if it's as easy as reciting your ABC's. "I'm not a mind reader-"
"And nor am I!" He says sternly, but doesn't raise his voice any higher than yours. "You've spent half the week ignoring me, only for you to barely even look at me now. You're not even wearing any glitter -"
"Why does that even matter?" You interrupt, unsure exactly of what he's trying to say.
Is the lack of glitter intentional? Yes.
Is it for the reasons he assumes? Probably not.
"'Cause we both know he fuckin' hates it," he snaps, decidedly far more pissed off now that he's speaking his thoughts into existence. "We both know you didn't wear it because of him in the past. So for you to show up with no glitter? Let him leech all over you? After he sent you all those fucking roses, and you won't fucking talk to me? Tell me what I'm supposed to think, huh?"
"Why does it even matter to you?" You fight back. It takes two to tango, and he seems to know the steps pretty fucking well. "You've been ignoring me too-"
"It matters to me because you might be fucking pregnant, B!"
Silence shatters around you both. Steals any words that could be said in the wake of such a declaration.
You roll your eyes. Do a fantastic job at pretending as if you don't feel like your world is caving in on itself.
"No, you don't get to treat me like I'm being irrational when you've been drinking cranberry juice all evening," he scathes, the frustrated gestures of his hands letting you know just how upset he is - and rightly so. "You don't get to act like you've not been thinking about it too."
"We don't even know if I'm pregnant-"
"And who's fault is that?!
"Gguk-"
"No, you're being such an asshole about this, B. This doesn't affect just you. This affects me too, okay?
Shaking his head, Jeongguk turns away from you. The way you're behaving is so unlike you, or so he thought. Maybe he didn't know you as well as he thought. Maybe he did get wrapped up in fallacies of you; in the what if.
"I fucking defended you," he says quietly. Isn't even sure if you can hear him. Doesn't care. Shakes his head and lets it dip between his disappointed shoulders. You'd be forgiven for think he was giving his next words careful thought. In all reality, he just starts ranting. "When he was at the tennis club, and was chatting shit, I defended you. Me . And yet you're more concerned with keeping up appearances for him ."
"You did what ?"
Now that he's started, Jeongguk can't stop. Not when he turns around. Not when he looks at you. Not when he starts to walk towards you.
"I insinuated we were together to get him to shut the fuck up," Jeongguk scoffs, thinking about his former self. Is embarrassed, now. Is letting his frustrations show because fuck it . He's hurting . Feels like a deer bleeding out on the side of a road, left to rot by some asshole driver who rammed straight into him at a hundred miles per hour. "So he's out here, showing up to your event, putting moves on you - even though he thinks you're with someone else - and you're fucking giving him the green light. Real fuckin' nice of him. A stand up guy. Respect must be his middle name. You really know how to pick 'em, B."
"Literally, how was I supposed to know any of that?!" You ask, eyes wide, brows furrowed. These new revelations are just as devastating as they are infuriating. All you can do is repeat a previous sentiment. "I'm not a fucking mind reader!"
But Jeongguk's irate now. Comical, almost, in how he downplays his anger.
"Oh, well, forgive me for assuming that you wouldn't bend to your exes every fucking whim!" He exclaims, a sarcastic smile on his face that snaps to a scowl within an instant. "I didn't think it was important because I thought you were beyond that point-"
"You're being cruel," you interrupt him, because he is. He knows how hard you've worked. Has been with you every step of the way - but this is how he views you?
"Me?" He laughs. It's cold.
"Yes," you say. "You."
"Nah." He shakes his head. Casts his eyes to the floor, 'cause looking at you like this only makes him feel even more frustrated with the current state of affairs. "Cruel is what Seokjin's doing right now - but you're giving him a free pass."
"I'm not. I don't want him leeching all over me," you say quietly, ashamed, turning away from him as you walk across the roof. Crouching, you bundle yourself up protectively, as if it'll make a difference. As if you can shield yourself from your friendship with Jeongguk as it comes crashing down on you both.
The only thing that makes any fucking sense to either of you right now is that you'd do it all again.
He'd ruin the friendship a million times over.
Not because he doesn't care, or because he's okay with losing you. Quite the opposite.
He'd ruin the friendship because - fuck it - that isn't what this is. The friendship flew out the window months ago. Maybe he was too late to realise it. Maybe he should have tried to claw it back in - but what use would that have been? It would have been wounded. Scratched to smithereens. Damaged.
Standing up straight, you curse at the sky. Are saddened by how few stars are out. Feels like they're shying away. Maybe they're ashamed, too.
"I have to head back," you say. Are defeated as you turn to face Jeongguk. "Tae's doing his speech, soon."
Jeongguk nods. Looks to the floor. Doesn't want you to go. Knows he hasn't exactly done anything to make it worth staying.
Both struggling with the current state of affairs, there's no one to blame. Joint bad decisions have led you here.
But he wants you close. Wants things to feel normal. Is willing to do anything.
"Look, your ex is down there being a prick," Jeongguk sighs. He waits for a moment. Lets you work out what he's gonna say in your own head. Wants to see your reaction before any of his bias comes into play. "He thinks we're together.... The best way to get him off your back?"
Your lips part ever so slightly. A crease forms between your brows, but your eyes remain kind. "Gguk..."
Shrugging, he plays off the weight of a suggestion he hasn't even vocalised yet. "He thinks we're together. Makes sense for us to act like we are."
For reasons you can't explain, the idea of other people seeing you and Jeongguk act intimately towards one another fills you with fear. It's not like it's an abhorrent thing - but to see the way your friends look at you as you present yourselves as a couple is to see their genuine reaction to it. If they're disgusted, you'll know that you're not suited. If they're elated, it will only play into these weird feelings that you've been having and are so desperately trying to avoid.
Eyes scanning him, you try and work out what he thinks of it all. If he's disgusted, you could probably live with that.
If he's elated?
Makes you feel queasy. Scared.
He holds out his hand. Knocks his head to the side. "C'mon. Face those fears of yours. Hold my hand."
It's bizarre, how Jeongguk has quite literally licked your arse, and yet this feels like the most obscene thing he's ever asked of you.
When you arrive back in the main room, Jeongguk stands behind you, ever so slightly to the side. Loops his arm around your waist. It's unintentional, the way his hand comes to rest over your stomach. Fingers splayed, he pulls your back to his chest, and you pretend like you're able to stand up straight without his support. Pretend as if the world around you isn't caving in on itself.
It wouldn't matter, even if it was. You're safe here. Safe with him.
And yet you insist on pushing him away.
"I wouldn't stand like this with a boyfriend," you say. "Too overbearing."
"Well, I would stand with a girlfriend like this," he assures you. The fingers that aren't firmly keeping your stomach protected come to your chin. Encourage it to the side. Get you looking at him. "I'd stand with her like this," he whispers, glances behind you so briefly that you almost miss it. "And when her ex boyfriend is looking in our direction - of which he is now - I'd kiss her."
"That wouldn't be very professional," you whisper.
"No," he acknowledges. "I don't suppose it would be."
He pulls away.
"I'll let you get on," he says. "The second he even so much as breathes in your direction, you come to me."
"Gguk-"
"You make your excuses and you come to me."
"I can handle it."
"Fine then," he shrugs. Begins to turn away, but makes sure to say, "I'll come to you."
And despite the deep-rooted need for you to prove yourself, there's a stranger sitting next to your determination. She goes by the name of Desire. And all she does is fucking laugh.
As Jeongguk rejoins his usual crowd, he's met with silence.
"Hmm?" He hums, reaching over for the glass Jimin is holding. Doesn't know what he's drinking. Doesn't ask. Downs it. Hands it back. "What are we talking about?"
Mouths a little ajar, neither Taehyung nor Danbi quite know what to make of what's happening, nor the foul mood that so clearly has a grip on their friend.
"Riveting," Jeongguk says sarcastically, when the silence lasts for a little too long. "No, really. Please go on."
But then, right on cue, Seokjin is heading in your direction, and Jeongguk may as well be bleeding through his tear ducts, given how red his sight is.
Bolting for you, Jeongguk almost knocks into one of the waiting staff. Spends a short moment apologising, then makes sure to interact with the people standing behind you. Has never seen them before in his life. Has no idea who they are - yet he greets them like old friends. Wants Seokjin to question his place. Wants him to think that Jeongguk is so much more important than he actually is.
And when he arrives to find Seokjin already speaking with you?
Yeah. Ain't no way he's letting him win.
Jeongguk does not give a fuck. Does not care about the opinions of anyone else. The world around him is burning red, flames that refuse to flicker out - and you crash through them like a beam of white light. A shooting star that offers the promise of something better. Something new.
Imposing in his stance, Jeongguk comes to stand beside you. Offers his hand out to Seokjin.
"Ah! Seojoon," he says, deliberately getting the wrong name, and not caring that maybe it's indicative of the fact your former fling has also been on his mind. Fine! Maybe he's obsessed with the fact other people have more of a claim on your romantic history than he does. Sue him. "We met at the golf course, remember?"
Seokjin doesn't correct Jeongguk on the incorrect name, nor the incorrect location. Knows exactly what he's doing. Shakes his hand.
"Jeongguk, yes. You had to run off pretty quick, no? Didn't get a chance to rally."
Oh, but we did, Jeongguk thinks. Knows it's a good job he didn't stick around. Would have probably thrown a racquet at Seokjin's face. Accidentally.
"Mm," Jeongguk nods. Protectively grips the nape of your neck. "Had plans. Maybe next time."
Seokjin nods. "Maybe."
The tension between the men is getting thicker.
Soon, you won't be able to breathe.
So you smile towards your ex, and say, "Excuse us."
Which only serves to piss Jeongguk off. This is your shot. Your chance to show Seokjin how little you care - and instead, you want to run away. Un-fucking-believable.
Still he smiles at Seokjin, as if he knows something that he doesn't. Wants him questioning this interaction for weeks. Regretting. Lamenting.
"See you around," Jeongguk says pleasantly, as you lead him down the hallway, your pace getting angrier with each step. He rolls his eyes. Knows you're gonna wanna fight, and thinks fuck it. Will just let it happen this time. Can't be fucked with keeping the peace.
The janitor's closet you had visited with Danbi is down this hallway, and it's where you're headed. Want privacy. Need it.
Especially 'cause Jeongguk's spouting off like a facetious twat before you're even inside. "Worst fake girlfriend I've ever had."
"I don't know how I'm supposed to pretend to be your fucking girlfriend!" You hiss quietly once you're inside, as Jeongguk knocks across the latch on the door, as if anyone else would even think to be in a janitor's closet right now.
You only know the door passcode from when you had been setting up, and even that was a lucky guess. Had just tried the code that works for another door in the gallery when Danbi had dragged you here, too.
"Well, it's not that fucking hard!" He hisses back, trying the handle just to make sure it doesn't open.
"Apparently it is!" You reply childishly.
Turning to face you, Jeongguk is obscured by the lack of light coming in through the small window on the back wall. You can barely see one another, 'cause neither of you have flicked the light on - and quite frankly, you don't want to. It's easier to fight when you can't see how delicate he looks, or how handsome his jaw is when it flexes out of frustration.
"Oh fuck off," he laughs, but it isn't humorous. "Even the caricature artist in Busan had to ask if we were a couple. We are perfectly capable of looking like one."
"I'm sure she asks everyone that!"
"Oh, piss off-"
"Fine!" You say defiantly, barging past him. If he wants you to piss off, then you will. He's the one who got you into this mess. Frankly, you don't give a shit at this point - but the door won't budge. Lock won't move. You yank on the door, as if that will help.
For all of Jeongguk's internalised frustration, he smirks, now. Folds his arm. Perches his ass on the counter by the sink.
Trying to prize the latch open, you're stupidly worried about breaking a nail - but you refuse to ask for help. Look to the side for something you can use for leverage. Can only see mops. Half think about throwing one at Jeongguk.
He doesn't interrupt your struggle. Doesn't tell you that there's a second latch towards the top of the door.
"If you don't let me out, then God help me, Jeongguk, I will scream," you threaten. "I will scream so fucking loudly that everyone hears, and then I'll let you explain why you wouldn't let me out."
Jeongguk laughs. "Go on then."
But you don't. You won't. This is somewhere you hope to work, one day. You can't risk embarrassing yourself over something as pathetic as this.
If you do, then it means Seokjin has won.
Jeongguk is many things. He's frustrating, and confusing, and yet simple and straightforward. He's an oxymoron, and on occasion, just a moron. At the crux of his identity though, is a good human. There is one thing he is not, and that is cruel.
So he stands. Sighs. Walks towards you and leans up to the latch you've neglected to touch. Puts a hand on your waist to steady himself, not that he really needs to. Pulls the lock free. Doesn't let go of your waist, but he isn't keeping you trapped. You're free to fly.
And yet you stay put, breath hitched in your throat, time standing still for a moment.
"Go," Jeongguk says quietly, his raspy voice affecting you in ways that it shouldn't be right now.
But to go would be to give him what he wants - and you absolutely do not want to do that.
Most importantly, you don't want to leave. Would gladly fight with him right now, 'cause at least you're actually talking.
"You go," you reply childishly.
"Me?" He laughs. Comes a little closer. Practically whispers in your ear. "B, you're the one who wanted to go. So, go."
"Maybe I've changed my mind."
He scoffs. "Fine."
It's a childish back and forth. One of you needs to grow up, and take control of the situation - and as Jeongguk's hand grips your waist a little tighter and spins you round, it's evident who is taking that role.
There's a dominant assertion to the way he moves you. You've seen this side of him a few times, but it never fails to take your breath away.
Hands pinned above your head all rather suddenly, a single one of his palms can keep both of your wrists suspended. It's always driven you a little wild before - but he's pissing you off. Every little thing he does will annoy you, now. Even the sexy shit.
In fact, especially the sexy shit.
The hand of his that isn't clamped around your wrists comes to the base of your throat, and you can't help but gasp a little in surprise.
His voice is deep and low as he tells you to 'say chess.'
But you shake your head. Won't do a damn thing he tells you. "No."
He grips tighter. "Tell me to stop."
"No."
"Fine then," he husks. Presses his knee between your thighs. Spreads them. Drops the hand from your throat to your hips. Get you positioned just right. Pulls you further up his thigh. Encroaches on your personal space.
"Stop acting like you don't know how to fake things." His voice is dulcet. "Your ex should be pretty used to it."
"Hardly the same thing, is it?" You hiss back, but Jeongguk laughs, and presses a kiss to the side of your ear. Then the lobe. Then beneath your ear. Down your throat. Stops only once he reaches your collarbone. Raises his eyes. Looks directly at you.
"I'm gonna make you cum," he tells you with arrogant certainty. "For real. You're not gonna fake that. Gonna make you cum, and then you're gonna hold my hand in front of your ex-boyfriend and fake that like a good girl."
The energy he's radiating is electric; the right amount of jealousy and desire making you the only thing his brain can focus on for longer than a second at a time.
"Gguk-" you gasp as he pushes your hips down. The leverage is crappy, the angle not quite right, but the intention is there.
Jeongguk glances over his shoulder, to check he wasn't imagining the chair he swore he noticed earlier, and almost thanks the God he doesn't believe in when his eyes land on it.
He turns back to face you. Lets your hands drop from above your head. Cups your jaw. Brushes his lips against yours.
"You're gonna be a good girl for me, aren't you, B?" He says, pressing a delicate kiss to your lips. Doesn't it let it linger. You don't get a chance to kiss him back, for he's moving you both to the chair. He sits, legs parted, and gets you straddled across his thigh. You're right where he wants you. "You're gonna ride my thigh and cum like a good fuckin' girl."
The satin of your panties rubs against his slacks without him even trying.
Hands beneath your dress, he squeezes at the flesh of your ass, spreading you. Pulls you up his thigh. Lets you build a motion. Encourages it.
He doesn't complain when your hands tangle in his hair. It surprises you at first, just how short it is. You've never experienced it like this. It almost distracts you from what's actually happening.
But then one of his hands comes to toy with your chest as you continue to ride his thigh. The neckline makes it so fucking easy for him. He gets you exposed, but doesn't keep it that way for long. Latches onto your nipple as soon as he fucking can. Groans against you, and then the sensation of his vibrating tongue forces the wetness to seep from your cunt.
Your rhythm against his thigh is well-established, now. Both of his hands are free to tug down on the top of your dress.
It's a pretty dress. Gorgeous, in fact, and you look incredible in it - but all he wants to do is take it off. Wants you naked.
For now, he'll settle with your satin-covered cunt rubbing up against him, and your tits nice and exposed for him to toy with. He's using you for his own gratification, and you're doing just the same.
His tongue flicks against your nipples, hands squeezing your tits firmly together. He sucks. Squeezes. Grazes his teeth. Makes you feel so fucking good. Part of you thinks he'll get you cumming just from the contact of his lips with your hardened nipples - but the way his strong thigh is acting as the perfect ridge? Fuck .
"I'm close," you promise as the pleasure trickles through your bloodstream like warm honey. Sweet, and delicate, there's something about orgasms earned by Jeongguk that always makes you feel like you've ascended. Heaven really is a place on earth. Remarkably, it appears to be in a janitor's closet with all of your closest friends just down the hallway.
Jeongguk nods. Slowly pulls away from your nipples, the suction so pleasurable you can't help but whine. "I won't stop you."
He means it. Keeps your nipples wet with his spit, tongue lapping against them, as your hips buck against him. Your whines get a little deeper. Friction stronger. Breaths needier.
And then, as soon as your body begins to shudder that tell-tale way, he lets his tongue loose.
"That's it, beautiful," he husks. Looks at you with stark adorned eyes. "Come on me like the pretty slut you are. What would they think, huh? If everyone here knew what you were doing? Be louder, baby. Let them know. Let them know how much you like to cum for me."
You whimper his name as your grind begins to ease - but Jeongguk doesn't let it. Uses both of his hands. Grabs your ass. Is intentional with the way he bounces his thigh up against you, forcing the sensation to jolt through you once more. Elbows on his shoulders, head buried in the crook of his neck, you're whining as he overstimulates you.
"God, I'll cum again," you tell him, teeth grazing his neck. He kinda likes the pain. Likes that he'll be waking up with a hickie, no doubt.
"Good," he grits. Is rough with your body. Wants that second orgasm, and he wants it now.
"Gguk-" you whimper, but can't manage to say anything more, the wave of pleasure taking over you so much faster. Chest heaving, you're unable to do anything other than languidly grind until your body stops. Hearts beating in sync, Jeongguk is so overwhelmed by how good it is to feel you come undone for him, he almost doesn't notice the way you begin to palm his incredibly hard crotch.
"Shit," he hisses. This was supposed to be about you. He shouldn't be letting you do this - and yet he's reaching for his belt. Is frantic as he unbuckles. Opens up his pants. Takes over from you. Dips his hands into his underwear. Wraps his hand around his hard, leaky cock. Smears the precum from his tip all over his head. Wants it in your mouth - but has other, more pressing ideas. "Can you stand for me, baby?"
Barely. Shaky on your legs, you do your best. Let him guide you - thankfully, to the door. Back pressed against it, Jeongguk gets you to hold the skirt of your dress up. Pushes your panties down, but only just enough to expose a small amount of your cunt. They're still around the top of your thighs, slick with evidence of your orgasm.
Jeongguk lines himself up. Rests the head of his cock against the edge of your underwear. Tells you, "I'm gonna cum in them. Gonna cum in your panties, and then you're gonna wear them all fuckin' evening."
"Please," is all you pathetically whimper.
It doesn't take long for him to get there. He's been worked up all week. He wanks himself off for you. Whines. Whispers shit about how hot you are. How much he likes doing shit like this.
Jeongguk grips onto your arm as his climax hits. Body doubling, he has no choice but to let his forehead rest on your shoulder.
"I'm cumming. Fuck. Fuck," Jeongguk curses. Tilts his head. Presses a wet kiss to the base of your neck as his body jolts and the first rope of cum spurts into your underwear. "Fuck, baby."
"That's it," you encourage, obsessed with the way he's whimpering, body all weak and feeble as it shakes for you.
He groans now. Grips his cock even tighter. Milks himself for all he's worth. Fucking ruins your underwear. Lets the top of his cock rub up against your clit. Massages your slick and his cum together. "Fuck."
When he finally pulls away, he says nothing. Immediately pulls his pants up as if he can't believe what he's just done, then pulls your panties up, too. Hooks the sides over your hips, pulling the mess he's made tightly to your soaked cunt. Cups his hand over your heat. Presses. Rubs. Teases little circles over your clit. Presses down more firmly. Builds speed.
"Gguk," you whine, grabbing onto his shoulders.
"Again, baby," he says softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Cum again for me."
"I can't," you whine, the overstimulation about to kick in - but he dismisses it. Knows that if you wanted him to stop, you'd say 'chess'.
"You can, baby," he promises. Uses the hand that isn't massaging your clit to angle your jaw. Doesn't even think as he steals a pretty little kiss from your lips. Doesn't realise it begins to send you over the edge. "You're gonna cum like you're mine."
And how can you do anything else but succumb to his demands?
Lips on his, brows furrowed together, he swallows all of your pretty little whines, as your body shudders for him. He keeps you steady. Keeps you supported. Keeps his tongue in your mouth, and his hand rubbing your panties. Doesn't ease up until you pull away from his lips.
"Gguk," you pant. "Please."
Nodding, he eases slowly. Doesn't wanna let go too quickly. Keeps kissing you. Won't stop that. Never wants to stop that. Is still annoyed with you, yes, but knows he has a duty of care, now. Also knows he'd never forgive himself if he didn't take every chance he gets to kiss you.
When he finally pulls away, forehead resting against yours, he's spent. You're both panting, both struggling to formulate any words in the wake of such a devastating orgasm.
Brushing a few strands of hair back from your face, Jeongguk closes his eyes. Nudges his nose against yours. Shows a little restraint. Whispers, "You've got a show to return to."
Nodding, you shake a little from his grip. Say nothing as you adjust your dress. Try your best to ignore the thick pool of his cum that's gathered in your panties. The tops of your thighs will end up smeared in the evidence of him, and, quite disgustingly, it only serves to make you even more turned on.
"I'll follow behind you," he promises as he begins to sort himself out, too.
Nodding, you're a little unsure of exactly what to do. You're scared that someone will know. That you'll leak.
"I'm scared," you admit. Explain your worry. He rolls his eyes, but smiles as he does, so.
He tugs on your hands, and props you up against the counter towards the back of the small room. Spreads your legs. Assesses fuckin' nothing, 'cause it's so dark in the room - but knows your pussy almost as well as he knows his own name. Licks to the left of your lips. To the right. Ends in one thick stripe up the centre. Sucks ever so gently once he reaches your clit. Knows that your cunt - your leaky, needy, hole that he loves to stretch out so much - must be going insane from the lack of attention it's getting.
"You'll be okay," he assures you. Stands, and gives your pussy a playful spank. "C'mon. You've got horny old dudes to schmooze."
"Is that gonna get you off?" you tease slightly, your annoyance with him a little subdued.
"Maybe," he shrugs, already knowing it mostly likely will. "You're gonna walk around that gallery covered in my cum, and no one else but us is gonna know it," he smirks, the gravity of what he's just done finally kicking in. Cups your jaw. Presses a kiss to your lips. Husks, "You're gonna go out there and act like you're mine - 'cause right now, you are."
You don't argue against it.
The pair of you meander down the corridor in near silence. His hand is on your back, but your arms are tentatively folded across your chest. Each step is accompanied by your keen ears checking for audible evidence of your sin.
So caught up in your own worries, you don't notice how quiet the gallery itself is. How few people seem to be milling about. How the main lights are on now, and how it only seems to be those wearing 'staff' lanyards within the main space.
Pursing his lips as he realises, Jeongguk tries not to laugh.
"Oh, shit," you whisper, pulling on his wrist so you can check the time on his watch. 10:13. The show was scheduled to finish at 10, but you're sure most people will have filtered out before then. Have no idea what the time was when Jeongguk had dragged you away from the main room.
"S'fine," he mumbles. Grips a little tighter on your waist. Doesn't let you pull away, like he fears you will now that appearances don't need to be kept up.
You don't. Instead, your arms drop from their position over your chest, and reach for his hand, guiding him the direction of the (now unmanned) cloak room.
There's little chatter as you grab your coats - the only ones left there.
"Need to show you something," you mumble, digging into your pockets, and pulling out half a dozen empty tubes.
Jeongguk looks at you with a sense of frayed confusion - but if he were to thread the strings together, he'd see the bigger picture.
Dusted in fine glitter of different colours, the tubes don't seem out of the ordinary for you. Is totally the kind of thing he'd expect to see in your pockets.
Quietly, you grit your teeth together. Suck in a little air. Are embarrassed to admit what you've done.
But the person in front of you is your best friend. Even with judgement will come acceptance. There always is. Honesty is the least you owe him.
"I know I'm not wearing any glitter," you start slowly. Hold the empty tubes up, then toss them into the bin beside the concierge table. Knock your head to the side and encourage him to start walking with you. He does.
He also reaches into his own pocket, and pulls out his car keys. Passes them over to you. "Might be above the limit. Can you drive?"
Glancing over to him, shocked by the request, you double check. "Are you sure?"
He nods. "You can crash at mine. It's fine."
Despite it all, there's still no one else he wants to end the night with. No girl he'd rather take home. Platonic or romantic.
"Sleep, I mean," he adds. "Not physically crash the car. Please don't crash my car."
You just smile. Nod. After the hideousness of the week spent barely talking to him, there's nothing you want more than to just feel like things are still normal.
"So the tubes?" he asks as you reach the car. He lets you unlock it, but adjusts the seat for you before letting you get in. Also puts his jacket down on the cushion, just in case your underwear gives up on protecting your decency.
"Thanks," you say, stroking the side of his waist tenderly as he makes way for you and waits for him to get in before you start the car up. You get onto the main road, and make sure you've got your bearings before finally explaining yourself. "It was plausible deniability. The lack of glitter, I mean. Was deliberate."
"What do you mean?" He asks, reaching for the gearstick. Doesn't care if your hand is on it. Wants to hold it. You ignore his actions. Just let him intertwine his fingers with yours.
"I mean, the less glitter on me, the less credibility Jin would have when it comes to arguing that I'm the person who's emptied half a dozen tubes of glitter into his incredibly expensive formal winter coat."
Jeongguk says nothing for a moment. Plays out the idea of you stealthily depositing millions of glitter specks into a jacket that costs more than his yearly rent. Is slow to ask, "...which pockets?"
And you're slow to reply, "... All the ones I could find. Outside, inside. Secret pocket in the lining."
And then Jeongguk is laughing. Really fucking laughing. Looks over to you, and your bunched up little face, and is overcome a sense of pride he usually only feels for these gallery shows, or when a bird of yours is completed. The kinda pride that is reserved for you, and for your accomplishments.
"Shut up," you giggle now, too. "I know it's childish but-"
"No," he shakes his head. Can't stop smiling. "It's brilliant. Dunno if you've heard, but apparently glitter is a bitch to get out."
"Yeah," you grin. "I've been told that a few times."
And suddenly the events of the evening seem to feel less burdensome. Warmer. More pleasant.
You don't bother with small talk, and nor does he. Are just happy to exist together, and this state of ease lasts right up until you're in his apartment, shoes off, standing a little awkwardly in his living room.
Jimin is out. Everyone is. There are a million messages in your group chat asking where you are. You'll just reply in the morning. Too busy, now.
"I need to shower," you say, a little timid.
Jeongguk nods. "Same."
"Join me?"
To your surprise, he hesitates.
"You're the reason I need one in the first place," you remind him. "Please."
He looks down. Shakes his head. "I don't trust us."
"Nor do I," you tell him. "But this whole thing has been hell on earth, Gguk. I've hated it."
"Me too."
"I don't think..." you sigh. Don't want to share your conclusion, but know you need to. "I don't think careless fucking around is worth it. It's definitely not worth losing you."
"So what are you saying?"
Gesturing towards yourself, you grimace a little. "I'm saying we sort out the current... mess. Get showered. Whatever. Head to the pharmacy in the morning for the emergency pill, just in case - and then a few days from now, I'll take an actual test. Just wanna make sure my system is settled, first. And then, providing it all goes well, we sort ourselves out. Stop fucking around."
Jeongguk says nothing. Just sort of looks at you as if you've just hung up a new star in the sky, or something absurd like that. Nods. "Alright."
You're well aware that you shouldn't look at Jeongguk in the way that you do; that you shouldn't stand in his living room, and let the dress that you've been hoping would keep him focused on you all night drop to the floor.
He's well aware that he shouldn't look at you in the way that he does; like you're some kind of star to wish upon.
And yet you both do. He wishes. You grant his wishes.
There's a mess to clean up in the morning. Jeongguk can't shake the look on the faces of his friends from his mind. Knows that you need to cover your tracks.
But for now, he doesn't care.
Your dress is on the floor, and his heart is yours.
Though he'll always define you as his best friend, he knows that the way he wants you goes beyond the scope of that. Knows that there's no going back.
"Byeol," he whispers.
"Koo," you whisper right back.
He smiles. Shakes his head. "I love it when you call me that."
You nod. smile, too. "I love the way you smile when I call you that."
He's right not to trust the pair of you together. Right to assume that a shower is a bad decision. Right to think that the second he has you naked, he won't care about the consequences.
Quite frankly, he couldn't give a fuck. Skin on skin, he indulges in you. The way you feel, the way you sound. Pretends like it's normal, holding your waist as he peppers kisses up your neck. Tells himself it's not unusual for friends to let their hands roam. It's all about trust. Mutual adoration. Desire. Want. Careful carelessness.
You don't kiss him, at least. Not in the shower.
No, you don't kiss him... until you're in his sheets.
Neither of you got dressed after the shower. Went to bed naked with the promise of sleep - and yet somehow you're straddled across his lap at two in the morning, hips slowly grinding to get the feeling of fullness you love so much from Jeongguk.
"After this-" you husk into his lips, but he breaks your sentence with yet another kiss. You don't mind. "After this, we've gotta start taking shit carefully."
He nods. "Mhmm. Whatever you say."
"Gguk-"
"Byeol, please," he smiles. "I'm literally inside you. Can you at least wait until we're done to give me ultimatums?"
Laughing, you cup his jaw. Kiss him again, just because you want to. Because you can. "Yeah. My bad."
Sitting back up, Jeongguk watches on in a state of adoration as your body moves for him. So often the one to take the lead, he's letting you have control, now. Letting you ride him. Letting himself succumb to everything you are.
"Shit," he whines, back arching, head pressing into his pillows. Fingers gripping your hips, he thrashes his own upwards. Thrusts up into you like a man possessed. Gets your body all weak and feeble from the overwhelming pleasure he's delivering - and when your hand dips to toy with your clit? Oh, it doubles. Trebles.
"You're so fucking hot," he tells you. "Yeah. Play with yourself for me. That's it, baby."
Panting, you tap on his chest with your spare hand. "Hips. Slow."
He does what he's told even if he absolutely doesn't want to. Let you bounce slowly. Reaches up to hold one of your tits as you do so. Wants them in his mouth. Finds himself grinning when he thinks of how much he's changed since you first started fucking around together.
"God, I fuckin' love this," he whines a little mindlessly. Doesn't bother clarifying what 'this' is.
The hand of yours that's wrapped around his wrist begins to tighten. Nails dig in. Tiny pretty whines of satisfaction escape your lips. Eyes close. Speed of the hand rubbing circles on your clit increases. Sitting on his cock, he's keeping you stretched. Full. Lets you do whatever the fuck you like, 'cause he knows you're working your way up. Loves to watch it more than anything. Gets himself off sometimes thinking about it.
Leaning forward a little, you reach for his phone. Slide it open to his camera.
He narrows his eyes. "Whatcha doing there?"
Whiney as you manage to speak, Jeongguk thinks you must be a direct descendant of Aphrodite. "Giving you permission," you hum, passing his phone back to him, already recording.
He looks to the screen, a little red button in the middle and a time running through on the top. Raises his brow. "Sure?"
You're putting on a show for him, yes, but none of it is faked. This is as real as it gets.
"Oh, fuck yeah," he husks as he can feel your walls tighten. "Like that. Like that. Fuck ." Pulses his hips ever so slightly. Sneaks his hand to join yours. Takes over. "Cum all over my cock, baby. Yeah. Yeah, that's it, babe."
"Gguk, I'm so close."
"I know," he coos. "Let yourself. I'm here."
"You're so big," you tell him, just so he has evidence of it. Know it will do his ego wonders. "Makes me feel so good."
"Show me how good it feels. Cum for me. Please. I need this. Need you ."
And when you finally do?
Oh, it's glorious.
"There she is," Jeongguk praises. Doesn't bother to stop recording. Tosses his phone to the side. Pulls you in for a million kisses. "God, you're so pretty when you cum. So fuckin' pretty."
His hips continue to gently rock, his orgasm far less violent than yours. You only really know it's happening cause he grunts. Gets a little breathless. Hugs around your back as his legs begin to shake, and eventually he manages to shakily whisper, "it's yours. All yours."
You just assume he means his cock, or cum, or something vulgar like that - and while it would be correct, it's not what he means. Not at all.
He holds you as you sleep that night. Has no interest in pretending like he wants to be less than what you are right now.
But come the morning, you're cracking jokes together like you've never nearly made declarations you'd never be able to take back. Hang out, as if he wouldn't rather eat you out. Make a to-do list. Laugh, as it's titled 'Fixing the Star-Fuckers Fuck-Up'.
You make a trip out of the list. Go to a pharmacy a few towns over. Grab a drive-thru Maccies breakfast. Get absolutely slated when you order a Shanghai Snack Wrap instead of a classic egg McMuffin.
"Can't believe we're friends," Jeongguk says, disgusted by the fact you're choosing to have something from the all-day menu. "Can't believe we fuck ."
"Fucked," you remind him, and remember that you've a pill you need to take. Pop it out of the foil, and swallow it down with a chug of Jeongguk's drink. "Past tense."
"Yeah, sorry," Jeongguk grins. It's easier to pretend like the idea of not fucking doesn't phase him. "My bad."
His pretty grin swiftly disappears three days later as he paces around your apartment living room, waiting on the result from a little pink stick that's sitting on top of your toilet. You're in the living room, too. Don't wanna check it. Nor does he.
So you play rock paper scissors.
Jeongguk loses.
And as you nervously await your fate, all you hear from your bathroom is a single word.
"Fuck."
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fumifooms ¡ 4 days
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I think you made me start shipping Marchil
Your posts got me thinking about their dynamic then I wrote a fic that was supposed to be platonic but midway through I realized it could actually be interpreted as romantic too and now I'm just sad about how little time they'll have together
First of all, you have a lovely icon, second, I’m so honored… I finally read Not a bad way to go and it was soo so good like. My god!!! Pre-canon is underused and you did so many interesting things with it.
It sounded like a cruel joke, that the one who needed her concern the most was also the one least interested in it.
^^^ go read it go read it
Chilchuck was drunk enough that he needed to hold onto the walls not to fall, but apparently still sober enough to remember emotional vulnerability was his worst enemy, as he made sure to avert her eyes and said: “Namari made me come talk to you ” to make it clear he wasn't being nice voluntarily.
Yeah.
“Of course I'm scared of dying.” He scoffed. Did she really think so little of him? “But if I could choose, I would want to die doing something I love, like drinking. Or maybe fucking,”
Maybe you wish you didn’t know but my new favorite HC because of this is that Chil dies yes prematurely not of liver failure though but during coitus. Especially if marchil, the thought of him busting a nut and his heart giving out makes me laugh so hard. My god. Lmao. Oh god. Lmfao. Worst day of her life
Marcille knew Chilchuck wasn't a kid, but she often struggled to take him seriously as an adult because he was just so adorable and small. In this moment, however, she saw them exactly for what they were, even if it was just a glimpse. A sheltered, naive little girl trying to tell a tired, much more experienced man how to live the rest of his life.
Standing ovation
She tried to find an explanation to give him, but she couldn't even find one for herself. Why would she miss him? He was just Chilchuck, her coworker, Chilchuck who was cold, aloof, sometimes crass, evasive, and even outright mean. He who was level headed, reliable, trustworthy, perceptive and clever. He who had the least time left, even in a best case scenario. “I guess that despite your best efforts, there's still a lot to like about you.”
This fic goes so hard, standing ovation pt 2
“I just think it's better if we don't get too close. Don't you agree?” “I… maybe” she said, uncertain as he didn't know how to feel about that. Caring about people would only hurt her in the wrong run, she knew that, but unfortunately she couldn't help it.
I looove how they can be read to be similar on this aspect. My hand clenching around my phone as I rear up to rant about Marcille and the way she does keep people at an arm’s length subconsciously again my god my goood. Obsessed with this obsessed with this, underused for marchil. Terrified of loss through death vs rejection duo I love youuu
Brilliant ending I’m in shambles. I’m not gonna spoil it
You get marchil so much you truly do. The way they mesh, the way their views on mortality clash and both soothe & bruise… He doesn’t have much time left even in best case scenario (which Mr I won’t eat well I’ll drink and smoke a lot I’ll stress all day every day is determined to not make happen) which makes it all the more meaningful for Marcille’s arc when she learns from him to finally enjoy the present moments… It’ll only be a fraction of her life, but to him he’s giving her the rest of his life. What are some decades of love worth? Worth it, surely, if nothing else
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im2tired4usernames ¡ 6 days
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Ugh I was excited for today until I found out I'd have to spend it with people that actively make me hate being alive hate the future and drain me off all energy physically mentally spiritually like a vampire I can't stand to be around her she is the definition of stupidity and even then that's generous as fuck this bitch has filled her brain with so much garbage I watch her brain cells die at alarming rates every single time she uses her vocal cords her giggles make me want to jam a sewing needle into my ear repeatedly so I can never have to hear it again its a friendly reminder that my parents decisions this time my dad's constantly makes me want to die
#i cant even shes just so dangerously stupid#she thinks energy drinks with natural caffeine are safe to give people who have been told by doctor doing take caffeine with thia meds#ahe thinks of a child is CHOCKING to lie them face down n rub their back#she has the evangelical woman voice worse then women I've met n that cult ahe giggles constantly and behaves like the stereotype lil german#boy just got a lollipop over.... everyone and everything whe acts likw an 11 year old I just got the first boyfriend and all they could talk#is how perfect their boyfriend is and they're so pretty good for that I pulled a boyfriend is and it's like a God thing that they met how#SOOOOOOOOOO in love while constantly nonstop touching ahe has to be touching him her hand on his thigh her atm linked with his her heaf on#his chest she has to be in her lap they make out all over the place IT'S DISGUSTING AND EMBARRASSING STOP SWAPPING SPIT#she started a i. hwr words 'love diary of their love journey' they hadn't been dateing 2 months her kids are spoiled fake Instagram bitches#with such shitty views on politics SHE'S A TRUMP FAN GIRL SHENLOVES TRUMP MY DAD BROUGHT IN A TRUMPIE#there's so much i cant even say because even admitting it on tumblr is too embarrassing i wanted.to.likw her i liked her the first day but#THE MORE I GET TO KNOW GET THE MORE N MORE N MISS RED FKAGS#she threw away all my siblings clothes school books toys uniforms for sports their in toys i bought them that week make up jewelry#in the disguise of helping clean house#while i was at the hospital the kids call me in tears i call her beg her to wait and nope.ahe didn't i found the bags by the curb i brought#my dad sided with hwr because 'she didn't mean any harm she didn't know sje was throwing them away'#my mom hasn't bsen dead a year he started dating right after ahe died#hes talking about marrying this woman this woman who has never had an honest educated thought once in her life#WHO ASLO SPEMDA MONEY LIKE A DRUNKEN SAILOR AHE CAME FROM A WITCH FAMILY HER LAST TWO HUSBANDA WERE TOUCH SHE HAS NO KNOWLEDGE OF THE COMMON#SHE SPENDS LIKE SHE STILL HAS MONEY WHEN SHE DOSE NOT AND IT'S LIKE YOU DID NOT JUST SPEND OVER 180 DOLLARS N PASTRIES GOD#SHES SO FUCKIN STUPID AND EVERY HOLIDAY SINCE MY MOM DIED WVERY FAMILY GWT TOGETHER BECAUSE WE DON'T TALK OR.DO ANYTHING WITH MOM'S SIDE#OF THE FAMILY ANYMORE SHE'S THERE EVERY WINGLE MOTHER FUCKIN WEEKEND SHES HERE I'M EXHAUSTED SHES PHYSICALLY AND MENTALLY DRAINING TO BE ARO#OUND SHES LIKE IF SOMEONE TOOK A GOLDEN RETRIEVER ON A DIET OF JUST FUCKIN COCAINE LITTLE GERMAN BOY WITH LOLLY AND CRUELLA DEVILLE AND FUSE#THEN TOOK A STRAW AND DRANK ALL THE SMARTS OUT OF THAT BEING#UUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUGGH MY DADS GOIN TO NARRY RHIA BITCH SHES GOIN TO TRY TO BE A MOTHER TO ME AND MY SIBLINGS AND THEY'RE GOIN TO#be so fucked up because her kids are not ok SHE FUCKED THEM OVER BAD SHE HAS FOUR KIDS ALL ADULTS THEY'RE JUST WOW#I HATE MY LIFE I HATE WHAY FUTURE MY FAMILY IS GOIN TO BE THE GOOD THINGS IS I WON'T HAVE TO STAY I CAN GO N MAKE A NEW ONE WITH MY WIFE#FOR ME BUT MY SIBLINGS ARE FUCKED AND ANYTIME I WANT TO VISIT MY FAMILY YANDERE GOLDEN RETRIEVER BITCH WILL BE THERE WORMING HWR WAY IN#SHES CONSTANTLY CALLING N TEXTING MY DAD NONSTOP OF SHE'S NOT NEXT TO HIM AND IF HE CAN'T RESPOND INSTANT SHE FREAKS OUT N BUGS ME
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ghostboyjules ¡ 9 months
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rose, sage, slate (platonically), lavender, peach, and sky <3
I love you buddyyyyyy <3333
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THHYYYYMMEEEE!!!!!! ILYYYY!!!! you're literally the absolute goddamn SWEETEST I love you so much I just wanna smoosh you to my cheek in a big hug , you're the absolute BESTEST. you deserve all the good things, and if I can be sweet to you in this lifetime then I am lucky and privileged to do so 😌😌
let's go explore and find cool things and lay in fields 💕💕
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weirdmageddon ¡ 9 months
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i love these tags this person is so right
actually, can you imagine if dave was raised by B1 roxy?
i wanna get into this actually
(ok i had to spend a few hours rewriting this because IT DIDNT FUCKING SAVE AFTER FIVE HOURS OF WRITING WHEN MY COMPUTER UPDATED WHILE I WAS AFK so it would mean a lot to show this post some appreciation. i LOVEEE hearing what other people have to say)
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even though these things mom does are presented in an extravagant, kitsch, jokey way, her intentions always came from a place of sincerity. she is simply Funnie
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but rose reads too far into it and assumes things that aren't there, that her mother is passive-aggressively feigning interest in rose's interests simply because the things she does are so extra. "why do all of this if not to mock me"
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im telling you right now if dave lived in this household he wouldn't assume antagonism, he'd go,
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don’t forget who LITERALLY patented tangible jpeg artifacts as their post-scratch adult self and scattered shitty scummed up statue of liberties all over the planet. theres no way some of that overboard artful shit wasnt post-ironic / circling back around to genuine funny sincerity
dave's natural state is funny sincerity like roxy. he's had the natural capacity for this type of humor from the start and this is the direction he goes towards when he grows out of his brother's shadow by the end of the comic. dave and roxy share an earnest “so bad its good” type of humor
(lots more under the cut; the length of this meta analysis just got unwieldly with all the pictures and whatnot)
despite the alcoholism, roxy is a supportive mother. she's not the ideal guardian but hells of a lot more supportive of her kid than bro is. if she knew dave's interests she would totally indulge in them with some over the top silly goofy haha shit as a genuine gesture simply because she loves him
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rose isn't too keen on it though. but she is more similar to dirk in her natural state of thinking of overthinking shit and assuming the worst, like the tags said
and yes dave got the sweet cuddly yet sometimes backhanded ouppy gene from roxy, probably even moreso lol
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roxy's even said rose "sounds like girl dirk"
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side tangent here, but this is something i wanna talk about.
i dont think bro should ever be in custody of children ever but if theres anyone who would be up to the task it's rose probably. i know she'd be able to keep up with him. not only does she have a defined personality (dave is more malleable and absorbs his environment like a sponge), if anyone can pick apart B1 dirk's batshit brain and probably be right on the money it's her. lil cal has been pumping patriarchal nonsense into bro's head and rose would be able to bring the fucking facts to the table without losing her own and being a living example of a badass little girl. i also don't think bro would try to force masculine roles onto rose like he did with dave, seeing as she is a girl, so she would actually have more of a leg up and get some passes that dave was never afforded. and rose wouldn't stand idly and accept any bullshit; she is no doormat. and i think this would earn bro's respect
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but anyway, from this, couldn't we conclude roxy "sounds like girl dave"?
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yeah okay. we havent even gotten into their penchant for funny typos or misspeaks, deliberate or otherwise
so, dave's environment
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the sentiment "god you hope you can be as good as your bro at this some day" might have been genuine at the time when he idolized bro but of course he's not able to express that in any sort of sincere fashion because he's in dirk's fucking household. and this level 10 irony shit isnt doing dave any favors
his role models were the Internet and a vague idea of what Bro was like. So he built up his facade based on irony–not the literary definition of irony, as Rose might be quick to point out, but a popular concept of irony based on the idea that things that didn’t make sense actually made sense in some roundabout way. As a master of irony, Dave probably reasoned, he could see in a way other people couldn’t why a world that was scary and didn’t make sense really did make sense, and could therefore convince those people that he was superior to them. And he would wield his knowledge to maintain the appearance of superiority by calling everything ironic and pretending he didn’t care about things that didn’t make sense, and he would use walls of vaguely rhyming words to keep everyone at arm’s length so they wouldn’t discover his insecurities (source)
roxy's style is the embodiment of post-irony. being raised by mom lalonde would be like being raised by joel vinesauce ok
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what can i say ….. (getting meta about this actually, hussie got these jpeg wizard wallpapers from a spyware website. link takes some time to load because internet archive)
rose is quick to read post-irony as actually being a joke/insincere, which in bro's case would be true. but i believe dave's natural instinct, outside of the influence of bro, is to read post-irony as genuine, which is exactly how mom serves it. we see this as early as act 3 from him; he understands her motives better than rose does herself:
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and in act 6 intermission 2 i think it's pretty clear
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but the thing is, it's always genuine from her. dave wouldn't have to second guess it because he's not one to naturally second guess someone's sincerity; that was learned due to his bro being virtually unassailable
there two types of ironies at play here:
seems like a joke, is actually genuine (roxy)
doesnt seem like a joke, is actually a joke (dirk)
you can make the argument that the second is is more psychologically destructive because it makes you question the reality of what is genuine sentiment and what isn't. dave never knew what was genuine and what was irony so he just sort of existed in this sincerity-ironic limbo and always did the opposite of what he genuinely felt on principle even if it always did originate from a genuine place.
"it just a joke bro i was just being ironic i dont actually x" is so much more trust-breaking and psychologically damaging than "wait are you being serious" / "i am being so fucking fr rn davy gravy" / "ok thats actually pretty fucking awesome. giant ass wizard statue" / "RIGHT"
how much about dave would change do you think? his character arc would be completely different for one thing, i think he'd have it good aside from mom's alcohol issues. he'd be left with the sweet and funny parts of him that we see at the end of the comic. the fake coolguy stuff is out, but this remains. this is dave in his element and we see it as early as act 1
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he'd probably have no shades growing up in the lalonde residence* either cause those were given to him by bro straight out of the crater as an extension of his own cool image. and john gave dave ben stiller’s aviators for his 13th birthday to replace them so he could “spread his wings”
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dave said he was wearing them for the ironies but i kind of doubt it. maybe post-irony but there was some reacharound to it being genuine because dave never put those pointy anime shades on his face again.
*though... it’s kind of hard to imagine him without his shades at all? B2 dave still got stiller’s shades from stiller himself so maybe getting them is a universal constant. i can imagine mom getting him them as a birthday gift cause shes pretty wealthy and probably could buy it out in an auction. but also itd be cool if john still gave him it as a gift
dave is actually a lot more genuine and easy to read than he lets on even when grappling with his upbringing with B1 dirk (again, see this post). this can be seen all throughout he comic but a good example is the evolution of thoughts about his interest in the preserved dead things in his room:
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if B1 roxy was dave's guardian he probably WOULD have pursued paleontology because she wouldve indulged him in it and probably find it cool and worthwhile to pursue, instead of allowing dave to flounder under ironic detachment, being poisoned by irony to the point of gaslighting himself into believing he doesnt actually believe he thinks this shit is cool. even if it was indulged in this such a way; a superficially kitsch and ironic appearing presentation, it comes from a genuine place and inspires genuine interest. just read the comments.
basically, i think if B1 roxy raised dave, their relationship would have a surface level appearance of being bizarre or over-the-top but they’d have an unsaid mutual understanding that it’s completely in earnest and just build on each other's funny and absurd gestures of affection. rather than seeing it as one-upping each other, it'd more like collaboration of some silly bullshit that you take a step back and look at full and just say, "fucking incredible"
speaking of paleontology, mom had the proto-ectobiology lab. maybe they'd be able to use the equipment to appearify paradox ghost imprints of the dead shit to create paradox clones of things from the cambrian era??? sounds like a fun mother son bonding activity. and theyd actually put the sciencey shit in the household to use
oh god i know exactly the kinds of music shed listen too also growing up as a teen in the 80s. she on that (post)-punk/art rock/new wave/new romantic mtv stuff. XTC shit fr. this is a B-52S HOUSEHOLD. maybe the associates for the campy melodramatic flair. so he gets to keep the record on his shirt cause he is an enjoyer of the shit in her vinyl collection. dave would still gravitate towards musical expression and music itself but of more variety outside of just rap, with an 80s-90s, even 70s flavor due to mom’s influence. see this for perhaps a glimpse. ​she probably visited new york city a lot for business trips and because the music scene was cool as hell around that time, imports came straight from jfk airport, she probably got in on that a bit and have remnants in the form of vinyls and cassettes. in this way she could be distributing void to dave (influencing him with forgotten / presently irrelevant music). now he can REALLY rave about bands none of his friends have heard of. “hey davy grvay watcha listenin to” (he holds up vinyl cover) “omg snakefinger”
btw dave lalonde would look like this to me
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chrollohearttags ¡ 7 months
Text
FIRE HYDRANT • portgas d. ace
ace loves his little squirter, perhaps a bit too much.
content + themes: firefighter!ace, firefighter!reader, choking, hate fucking, heavy squirting, he’s such a mean dom in this, mentions of oral sex, daddy is used, finger sucking, slapping, pet names are used (my love, babygirl, sweetheart), calls reader slut, missionary/mating press
📝: just a lil something to help me get my steam back. If it’s bad, you never saw it.
───✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰───────✱*.。:。✱*.:。✧*.。✰────
“Okay, okayyyy…take some outtt..fuck!”
“Don’t be stupid, now move your hand before I do it for you.”
he was relentless and had been for the past couple hours or so..it seemed like he had no intention of doing so anytime soon either. Perhaps this time around..your big ass mouth had bit off far more than you could ever chew. Hence why at the moment..he was fish hooking his fingers in the sides of your jaws. Prompting you to suck on them as a means to shut you up. Feeding you a light tap to the cheek to ensure so as well.
“Rookie..how many times do I have to say it, huh? You don’t run a damn thing. It’s been what..four? Five? Hell, I’ve lost count how many times you’ve come on this dick. It’s like you can’t get enough of me, my love. I already knew that much though.”
the words tearing through you like a serrated dagger, slowly but surely cutting you up. A reminder of your weak resolve. You hated it, you hated it so fucking much that the one man you despised got you wetter than any boyfriend or partner you’d ever encountered. That this bastard knew your body far better than you did sometimes. He could do things that you’d never even imagined..taking you to heights unknown and yet, all you could do was stare at him in disgust as his cock plunged within your center repeatedly. Slamming balls deep as they smacked against your puckering asshole; drenched in your sticky mixture from drumming it out of you. It was just as he said, you had come for him for about the seventh time now. Running on fumes and pure spite to keep going. Maybe you wanted to prove him wrong that you could take whatever he threw your way, including the dick.
“Haaaah!—shit! Not right there..I’m gonna—“
“I know, babygirl. I know you are so why fight it? Squirt on daddy’s dick. Feels much better than arguing with me, doesn’t it?”
or..you loved the way he fucked you and your pride wouldn’t allow you to admit it! It would explain the large puddle formed underneath the towels on his couch and the splashes surrounding his foot; the other planted next to you so that he could truly get in it the way he wanted. And here you were..in the last position you wanted to be! Folded like a goddamn pretzel with your toes wiggling behind your head and this asshole hovering over you with that same stupid grin on his face, those deep set eyes and his necklace dangling in front of your nose. He was enjoying this. Enjoying turning his stubborn little rookie into his personal fire hydrant. The tight, juicy grip of that cunt embracing him like a warm hug..tinting his tan hued shaft with a sheet of white essence before exploding into the sweet, delicious rain as he made you squirt yet again. He’d never had pussy like it and it was for that reason alone, he put up with your bad attitude or rather, calmed it down.
“Nnggghhh!..I can’t..” your words were barely even making it above a decibel. A lot more quiet than the shouting you did at him when you first arrived. Pissed off about your inspection results earlier in the day. Granted, that was before he hissed at you to sit down, shut the fuck up and be a good slut for him..before he snatched your sundress down to reveal those plump tits and sucked on those gorgeous brown nipples that go so erect for him as he fingered you. And well before pinned your legs back and damn near sucked the flavor from your pussy! Using those nimble fingers to get you to climax..it was then that he discovered your little secret:
“Ahhh..so you’re a squirter, rookie? Well that’s good to know.”
and hadn’t stopped exploring it since. So for the duration of your stay, he’d been stretching that pussy out and using you to his heart's desire. Pulling on your hair, smacking on that fat ass as he gave you vicious backshots. Even tossing the pillow out of your way so you had zero comfort. His punishment for waking him up. Using your mouth as his personal cock sleeve, making you eat him up until you made a mess, calling him daddy after rewarding you with a warm nut to the back of your throat and after that, the fun really began. He’d kept you like this..drawing out orgasm after orgasm; streams of clear juices reaching as far up to his chest. Pulling out, tapping that mushroom tip against your slit to coax out another right after. He was having too much fun!
“You talk a lot of shit for someone who can’t even keep her eyes open. Too bad for you..”
suddenly, you’d feel the hard clutch of his digits around your throat which prompted you to gasp for air whilst clawing at his forearm. Zeroing in on your face, he’d hiss through gritted teeth and smile before slamming your head back down: “we’re not done, so wake that ass up. ‘M gonna beat that little pussy of yours so sore, you’ll be lucky if you can crawl out of here when I’m done. Gonna fuck you until you’re empty, baby..”
and something told you, that wouldn’t be anytime soon!
5K notes ¡ View notes
sharlsworld ¡ 7 days
Text
⋆⭒˚.⋆ my dawg - ʟɴ4 ☆
✿ lando norris x influencer reader
✿ lando norris is down bad for his girlfriend and he has no shame about it
ᵃᵘᵗʰᵒʳˢ ⁿᵒᵗᵉ ୨୧ this is kinda pt 2 to walk em like a dog
🝮
yn
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yn took my dawg out today
landonorris didn’t expect you to become a gymnast in the middle of dinner 😔
⤡ lilymhe HAHAHA
landonorris spit on me your so hot
⤡ yn kinky boy
georgerussell63 Perioddd 💅🏽
⤷ yn ok that’s enough
alexandrasaintmleux I miss you
⤷ yn i miss you more come over i’ll kick lando out
⤷ alexandrasaintmleux Walking to the door right now i’ll be there in 10
⤡ landonorris hello?
⤷ charles_leclerc Guess I’ll see you at the paddock then?? 😟
francisca.cgomes let him out the crate for a little bit
⤷ yn yeah he’s been behaving recently
⤷ landonorris 😈😈
oscarpiastri I think you need to take him on more walks he has to much energy
⤡ landonorris i know a way to get rid of energy easily
⤡ yn and back in the crate you go!
🝮
yn
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yn sushi dates with my love 🎀
alexandrasaintmleux My favorite date 🥰
⤡ charles_leclerc Uhm, alright then
landonorris but that’s our thing?? ☹️
⤷ yn you don’t even eat sushi?
⤡ landonorris i still take you out to eat it even though the sight of it makes me gag??
⤡ yn and then you make me brush my teeth before i can kiss you?
⤡ landonorris just say you hate me
⤡ yn i hate you
⤡ landonorris please take me back baby
francisca.cgomes i miss my girls 😣😣
⤡ yn we miss you more!!
alex_albon did lando stay at charles’ 😂
⤡ charles_leclerc Yes and he would not shut up about how he misses y/n
georgerussell63 Me next
⤷ landonorris no go away i’m next
⤷ lilymhe actually i am 🤣
🝮
landonorris
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landonorris hopelessy devoted to you ❤️
yn my one love 🤍
⤷ charles_leclerc Hold on…is y/n norris being sweet?? Did someone screenshot this?
⤷ yn did i get married and just don’t remember?
⤡ landonorris yes.
yn can we get a puppy
⤡ landonorris whatever you want baby
⤷ yn 🤍
francisca.cgomes ok, cute
carlossainz55 I remember when you were hopelessly devoted to me.
⤷ landolovesyn LMFAO NOT CARLOS BEING SALTY 😭😭
pierregasly down BAD
lilymhe hm. well, i guess this is cute
alexandrasaintmleux I approve of this post
oscarpiastri WE KNOW
chilipowder55 poor oscar 😭 he’s so done with both of them
flowers444yn all the wags don’t wanna share y/n with her bf 💀
🝮
f1updates
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f1updates lando & y/n out in monaco tonight
lordperceval lando’s always in the likes whenever a sighting of them is posted 😭
⤷ georgerussell63 he’s so unserious
⤡ alex_albon GEORGE?!
⤡ charles_leclerc ALEXANDER?!
⤡ maxverstappen1 CHARLES?!
⤡ carlossainz55 MAX?!
⤡ pierregasly CARLOS?!
⤡ oscarpiastri PIERRE?!
⤡ carmenmmundt OSCAR?!
⤡ lilymhe CARMEN?!
⤡ alexandrasaintmleux LILY?!
⤡ francisca.cgomes ALEX?!
⤡ lewishamilton So we all stalk every update about lando and y/n?
⤡ georgerussell63 LEWIS?!?!
sharls_lerklerk why did lewis just expose all of them
🝮
lando.jpg
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lando.jpg she’s getting it tonight
yn OH OK!! how sweet 😰
⤷ landonorris always for you 😉
yn guys i’m scared
⤷ alexandrasaintmleux i’m omw
alexandrasaintmleux My girl 💘💗💕💓
francisca.cgomes the prettiest girl ever
alexandrasaintmleux so that’s where my dress went
⤷ yn what dress? 😟
maxverstappen1 Hair is on point
charles_leclerc Alright I fw the fit
georgerussell63 Period my queen never lets us down 💅🏽
oscarpiastri Ate down or whatever 💋
danielricciardo Drop the hair care routine girl
lilymhe beautiful beautiful girl
carlossainz55 Slay all day 😻😻
landowonone what is going on 😭
🝮
yn
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yn alexandra got a puppy, so i made lando get me a puppy too
alexandrasaintmleux Play dates everyday
landonorris 🤍🤍🤍
charles_leclerc Leo and lil Pete are gonna be the best friends
carlossainz55 So you get him Saturday and Sunday and I get him the rest of the week? 😁
⤷ yn um no ❤️
carmenmmundt How cute 🥹
alex_albon I think he would look cuter with me…in my house…in my arms
⤷ yn i don’t think so
maxfewtrell The chokehold you have on him isn’t okay 😔
⤡ yn neither was the one he had on me last night
⤷ maxfewtrell !?!? 😨
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saetoru ¡ 11 months
Note
Tee 🥹 so RB Gojo always shows up to YNs house unexpectedly or wants her to come over. What if one day out of the blue, like 2 am she shows up at his house in tears due to stress. And for once he can be the caretaker and dependable one. And then she falls asleep in his arms arms and he gets to be the big spoon for once. I could see her whispering “you’re it for me too” while thinking he’s asleep.- dabitee anon
✩ ‧₊˚ ✩。BEFORE & AFTER — GOJO SATORU. (rich boy! au)
contents. college au, rich boy! gojo, stressed reader :(, comfort, cheesy banter lol i tried ok, slightly based off of this drabble
notes. dabitee anon. babie u are my biggest rb! gojo inspo u always think of the sweetest lil moments between them sobsss i adore you sm
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sometimes, gojo forgets you're not always put together. sometimes, you struggle to get assignments finished, and sometimes you don't wake up for work on the first alarm, and sometimes studying is too much to handle no matter how determined you are for an A.
"thinking about me this late, sweetheart?" he grins as soon as he picks up your call, laying back on one arm as he stares at the ceiling. he doesn't expect to see you call at two am, but you do—and when he hears the short, wet sniffle through the phone, he doesn't waste a moment to sit up. "sweetheart? you good?"
"toru can you let me in?" you ask quietly. gojo feels every crack in your voice pierce into his chest—it's rare for you to need him like this. he thinks he's always needed you more than you've needed him, truthfully. you've always opened doors after he's stormed out on his father, you've always laced your fingers after arguments with suguru, and you've always rubbed his back when he's hunched over toilets after one too many drinks.
when was the last time you've let yourself need gojo? he doesn't have the time to even try and remember, his feet carrying him over to open his front door quietly. and it's you—you with teary eyes and puffy cheeks, you with tired dark circles and wobbly lips. it's you, but it's not the you he knows, the one he's used to.
the one good thing about gojo satoru is he always knows how to talk—he speaks enough for two, knows how to fill the silence when you can't bring yourself to speak. his arms tug you into his chest before you can open your mouth to explain.
"did you drive all the way here with those watery eyes?" he hums, "wanted to see me that bad? it's dangerous driving like that, baby."
"didn't wanna be alone," you mumble, sniffling into his chest. his hands are big—they're good for rubbing slow circles into your back, the warmth of his palm seeping in through your shirt and pressing against your skin.
"i'd have come if you texted me," he hums, "'m always up, anyway. you know i was beating suguru's ass in mortal combat? he owes me a burger."
"you can afford one yourself, idiot," you huff, making him chuckle. something about the low rumble of his chest against your cheek makes the tears flow a little faster—not because you feel worse, but because it's safe enough that you can.
sometimes, you forget gojo isn't that spoiled and whiny handful you love to call him. sometimes, you're reminded that he's used to being alone, that carrying emotions enough for two is his forte. your cheek presses harder against his chest, like you could bury yourself inside of him like that, like hiding away in his ribcage is where you're safest from the rest of the world. maybe it is—maybe all you need is him to make it safe.
"who's got my baby crying the night before an 8 am class?" he asks softly, “i’ll punch ‘em.”
“what if i say you, will you punch yourself?”
“for you, always,” he nods seriously.
he knows how to ask these things like that: like it's not heavy, like you can make a light-hearted joke or two so that you're not drowning in your own vulnerability. sometimes, you forget that gojo is no stranger to hiding his own vulnerability, that he knows how to hide it under a playful grin and a cheeky laugh.
"that group assignment's due soon and no one's done anything yet but me, and i had to pick up an extra shift to cover for someone, and that quiz coming up is apparently super hard, and my electricity bill was high this month and i don't know why, and....and—"
"okay," he hums, "the electricity might've been me," he says with a quiet chuckle, "i always forget to turn the lights off. I'll handle it, yeah?"
"but—"
"it's not paying for you," he cuts you off, "it's paying you back. there's a difference. now c'mon. i make good hot chocolate."
"it's out of a packet," you sniffle, lips curled into a pout as his thumb swipes away at your tears. he traces the swell of your cheek before pinching it lightly, making you huff.
"hey," he gasps, "it's special because i put extra chocolate in it! it's my secret ingredient."
"it's not a secret if it's the main ingredient, toru," you mumble, letting his fingers thread with yours as he tugs you along to follow him.
"do you just live to correct me?" he whines, "can't i have one thing?"
and when he hears that soft, breathy little giggle from you, he smiles to himself, the ache of his chest calming just a little. you think gojo could always do that if he tried—pull a small laugh or two out of you even if the world was crumbling around you, keep your lips curved up even as everything goes wrong.
he's enough to forget about that damn project, and that extra shift, and that absurd quiz, and that distressing bill. maybe it's in the way he makes the whipped cream look like a crooked heart in your mug, or the way he burns his tongue as he takes a sip too fast, or the way he swings your arm as he drags you to his room, or the way he wriggles his brows at you as he takes his shirt off before bed, or the way he presses that delicate, sweet, careful little kiss to your forehead as you lay on his chest.
because he has to be enough, he thinks as he holds you, he has to be good enough for you that he outweighs every bad thing you'll ever deal with. he wonders if you know you're it for him, if you know that no one else could fill the spot you've wormed your way into unknowingly. he realizes it that night you hold him, the same night you didn't scold him for ruining your sleep, the same night he finds his way to you when it feels like every road is blocked.
and when the roads are blocked you find your way to him too. so he lays quietly under your cheek, feeling your fingers trace those slow hearts into his skin as he hears you murmur, "i think you're it for me too, toru."
his brows furrow—and then he realizes you must have heard him that night, just like he's hearing you now. a small part of him wants to laugh at the odds, at the way you both can't bring yourselves to say it when you're sure you'll hear each other. the other part of him thinks maybe you were always supposed to find each other, that you were always meant to stay awake and hear hushed words that are supposed to be secrets.
but then you tilt your head up, meeting his eyes, like you know he's awake. oh, he realizes, you've always known, haven't you?
"oh yeah?" he asks, "what if someone cuter and funnier comes along?"
you giggle—not one trace of stress or fear or defeat on your features, not with him there. "i met suguru and still chose you," you tease, making his gasp in disbelief.
"that's so mean," he whines, "i made you hot chocolate with extra chocolate! you can't say my best friend is cuter. and for the record, i'm way funnier than him."
"i'm kidding," you grin, pinching his cheek. "i love you. thank you," you add quietly.
"love you too," he kisses your temple. sometimes, gojo forgets what it was like before you—and he doesn't really want to remember.
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atp rich boy! gojo is just his own character to me sjfjsjfj i’ve just created a whole new dude in my head with the same irritating blue eyes
6K notes ¡ View notes
madlori ¡ 25 days
Text
On Tommy Kinard
"It's not that I don't like Buck and Tommy, it's just happening so fast, he's underdeveloped!"
*clears throat*
Here is a recap of what we know about Tommy. And this is just off the top of my head, I didn't rewatch anything.
He was closeted at the 118 before and found the atmosphere repressive. He (probably) acted like a dick to fit in. When presented with the chance to make things better, he took it, and developed positive relationships with Hen, Chim and Bobby.
He was in the army and trained there as a pilot.
He knows Muay Thai and has a set up in his house.
He likes to work on cars and has a lift at his house (where TF does he live is my question - he has some nerve being agog at Buck's loft if he has a muay thai gym and a car lift)
He is down for violating departmental policy at the drop of a hat (has done so on at least two occasions) to help a friend and has no problems fucking with the fire chief.
He is a nerd. He likes pub trivia and has incorrect Star Wars opinions, and can keep up with Chim in the movie-quoting department.
His favorite movie is "Love, Actually" and he likes craft beer and monster trucks.
He came out when he transferred to Harbor and felt comfortable enough to stop lying about who he was.
He follows MMA and has friends in Vegas who like him well enough to hook him up to a frankly insane degree.
He'll risk his own life and engage in helicopter skulduggery to save people he doesn't know...I mean, apart from doing that for a living.
He'll take time out of his day to give a tour to the cute boy who called him up and offer to give that boy flying lessons (a significant time investment) which was probably maybe about more one on one time with said boy.
He yearns for the belonging and found family that the 118 became after his departure and probably befriended Eddie hoping to earn a plate at the cookout, aside from just clicking with him.
He likes Eddie and Chris a lot and they like him. Chimney also likes him.
He was attracted to Buck right away and was emotionally aware enough to pick up on Buck's jealous feelings over Eddie and his friendship, even if he was surprised that it was him Buck wanted to get to know.
He respects and values Buck and Eddie's friendship and wanted to make sure Buck knew that.
He's brave enough to shoot his shot by planting one on a dude.
He's a lil bitchy but also generous and ready to throw in with this insane guy who's inviting him to a family wedding after 0.5 dates.
He showed up to a bachelor party when he was on call because Buck asked him to, then showed up in turnouts after fighting a fire for like 12 hours yadda yadda we all know this part.
He has got it BAD for one Evan Buckley, who he only calls "Evan" which according to LFJR is a conscious decision by the writers, which fascinates me.
He was willing to take a chance with a man just discovering his sexuality BUT wasn't willing to put himself through that if the man in question wasn't ready for it. When Buck showed him that he was, he was all in.
He does NOT take his coffee like that.
Oh and
He's a beast.
This is VASTLY more information than we knew about ANY of Buck's previous girlfriends with the possible exception of Abby. Even Taylor did not get this much development over 20 episodes (things we knew about her: she was an ambitious and ethically flexible reporter, did not eat fudge, had a dad in jail, and sometimes jogged for exercise, she was capable of being nice and did love Buck, I believe). And as for it being fast? Sometimes it just be like that? A relationship doesn't have to have year(s) of buildup. Sometimes people do just meet, like each other, and start dating, in fact in the real world that's usually what happens. It's in TV Land that you have to have eighteen seasons of UST before pulling the trigger. Most of the time in reality people just vibe off each other and decide to go out and THEN they learn about each other.
And they've got a great start. You'd think they'd barely spoken by how a few naysayers are talking about it - the loft scene was like a solid five minutes of very open conversation, the Cringe Date seemed to have gone well and again, open and honest (if cringey) conversation before Cockblocker Eddie showed up, and the coffee meetup was again....open and honest conversation. They're not gonna show us long scenes of them exchanging firefighting stories and workout preferences (I mean, I'd watch that, but it's not what the show is about).
In conclusion, anyone saying he's poorly developed or the relationship is "out of nowhere" either is being willfully obtuse or has ridiculously unrealistic expectations for relationships and/or what constitutes character development.
As for whether they have chemistry, that's a matter of subjective opinion. Given that a TON of people watched that harbor tour scene (even when it was posted as a sneak peek) and started going "wait...what's going on here...are they flirting??" might be a clue. People were talking about Bi!Buck maybe happening with Tommy based solely off that clip of the harbor tour and what they were seeing between them. And imho that loft scene was crackling. But we all see things through the lenses of our biases, myself included.
Got that off my chest, whew.
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certifiedcodbabygirl ¡ 2 months
Text
Simon Riley who realizes how much he fucked up and that maybe therapy isn't such a bad idea
AN: Lil bit longer than usual, but it's been on my mind
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Art credit to SubsurfaceChaos on Twitter
Something was off with him all day. It wasn't too noticeable until he began distancing himself, getting irritated at being around anyone. You confronted him, simply trying to see if you could help or maybe provide comfort, and fuck did that backfire.
He was sitting in the living room watching whatever was on the channel, but it's not like he was paying attention to it. Thoughts and feelings of the deployment he just came back from a few days ago build up, irritation filling him like water in a bathtub. He doesn't usually have flashbacks or anything like that, the military would discharge him if he had PTSD, but some days he thinks too much.
He didn't even notice you coming in until you were sitting next to him. He snaps out of his thoughts just to meet your soft eyes. You sat on the other end of the couch, not wanting to crowd him too much while he's like this.
"What." He deadpans, voice devoid of all emotion.
Yeah something's definitely up.
"What's wrong, Si? Somethin' been messing with you today?" You ask gently, not wanting to come off as if you're accusing him.
He gives you and irritated look, suggesting you drop it, "Nothin', 'm fine"
You're not stupid. He tends to need a little push in order to open up.
"I know you're not", tone still soft, "I'm not trying to irritate you or anything, I ju-"
"Well you certainly got an affinity for it" He snaps, "Drop it"
You inhale, trying to not take his words personally, "Si, I'm your girlfriend, it's kinda my job to check in with you"
The bathtub overflows.
"You can't listen, can you? I said drop it, fuckin' 'ell" He stands up from the couch and walks to the kitchen, trying to create distance.
"Simon I'm just trying to help, I'm not here to make things harder for you" You try to reason with him, swallowing the lump in your throat.
You follow him into the kitchen but still give him space. He doesn't say anything back, a small part of him knowing you're right but the larger part won't connect to that. Pouring a class of orange juice, he keeps his back to you.
"Si-"
"Can you shut up for once?! Can you? I said bloody drop it. It's not up for discussion!" He sets the cup on the counter with a thud and snaps at you, "You're always fuckin' naggin' at me, clearly not takin' a bloody hint. Jesus Christ"
That shuts you up. The lump in your throat intensifies, tears beginning to form in your eyes. He's never yelled at you like that before. Sure, he's had bursts of irritation during arguments, but he's worked hard to make sure he never treats you how you don't deserve.
"Why are you yelling at me? All I'm doing is trying to be there for you" You ask quietly, voice not really allowing you to speak louder. a couple tears fall down your face, and your nose begins to get stuffed up. You try to quietly sniffle but he still hears it. He hangs his head down and groans quietly.
"Now you're fuckin' cryin'. Great."
Not wanting to be around him much longer, you turn to leave, "Come find me when you're calmer", Your voice betrays you and cracks a little.
You walk away and go upstairs to your shared bedroom. Once you close the door, the crying begins. His words cut through you like a knife, a deep pressure-like hurt seeping through your chest. Sobs rack your body yet you still try to be quiet, not wanting him to hear. You know he's gonna snap out of it and fuckin hate himself for what he did. You know he loves you, and if he were in his right mind he would have never uttered a single degrading word to you.
You slip into bed and lay there, crying. You guessed he would be up anytime soon and the smell of him on the pillows was both comforting and hurtful.
Downstairs though, Simon was fucking fuming. Seeing you go up the stairs, lip quivering, evaporated every bit of him anger. He groans loudly and throws an arm over his eyes.
'How fuckin' stupid can you be? How the fuck can you speak to her like that?'
He removes his arm and leans against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. You've stuck through with him since the moment you meet. Never once judged his off stand-ish behavior and learned to find ways to work with him. He cherished you so wholly, feeling what he thought he never would. You came into his life and slowly broke down his walls, allowing you to see him apart from his exterior.
He thought he was going to lose you. Sure, you had arguments before, but he had never purposefully tried to hurt you. Knowing that he did made his stomach churn, nausea kicking in. 2 years of the best relationship (not that there were very many before you) all to be broken down, at least what he thought, because he was pissed off.
'Maybe I should fuckin' go to therapy.'
Let's be honest, he could use it. He tried to go through it before but just quit due to how uncomfortable it made him. He figured he was on his own, all before you, and there was no one to deal with his bullshit besides him. Now he has someone who he cares about so much that it doesn't matter if he's uncomfortable. He'd rather be uncomfortable than never be with you again.
He gathers the balls to go upstairs and carefully opens the door. He's met with the sight of you curled up, your sniffles being the only sound in the room.
"Go away" You call out, although not too loudly. Your voice is wobbly and stuffy.
He'd think it was adorable, had he not been the one to cause it. He walks to the opposite side of the bed and gets in, spooning you. He kisses your hair so gently it would give you butterflies if you weren't so upset.
"I'm so sorry, love. I haven't a clue why I did that to you and you didn't deserve a single lick of it." He feels the small burn in his nose as he starts tearing up a little, "I promise it'll never happen again"
You sniffle as more tears fall, the pain sticking to you despite his words.
"I wasn't trying to piss you off" You whisper.
"I know baby, it wasn't you. I promise it wasn't. Could never be that mad at you" He says softly, a tear falling. He grips you a little bit tighter and kisses the back of your neck, trying to bring comfort to both of you.
"Then why did you yell at me? I've never heard you like that before."
He sighs, "Been thinkin' 'bout what happened while I was gone and it came out at you. 'M gonna go back to therapy 'n try to fix what ever the hell is wrong with me" He kisses your neck again, " 'M gonna do better, gonna be better"
He's not stupid, he knows his words aren't gonna go away overnight. He knows how much you love him, even if he doesn't understand it, and knows hearing that from him hurts more than it would anyone else. He knows you're gonna be affected by them for a bit and he's prepared to fix it. Anything for his love.
You turn around so you're both still on your sides but you're cuddled into his chest. Wasting no time, not even hesitating, he wraps his arms around you and holds you tight. He lets out a sigh of relief, knowing this is your way of accepting his apology. He softly kisses your forehead and cheek, whispering how much he loves you and how it's gonna be better.
He knows he can't run from his issues anymore and for once he's ready to face them.
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luveline ¡ 1 month
Note
oooh what about a lil blurb about bombshell r and spencer where it's the first time in their relationship that one of them is super sick and the other has to take care of them?? if you're feeling up for it ofc!! love u jade <333
ty for requesting<3<3 fem, 1k
“I’m sicker than a sick dog. I’m half cough.” 
Spencer frowns at his phone where it lays on speaker at the breakfast table. “You are? What kind of cough?” 
“It’s awful, I can’t tell you. You’ll stop loving me.” 
Spencer smiles even though he wants to grimace. He told you he loved you a few days ago, and you hadn’t said it back, but you certainly hadn’t stopped liking him. You’re more obsessed with him than before, he’d argue. It’s a great feeling, almost as good as an I love you in return would’ve been. 
(He doesn’t blame you for not saying it. You’ve been officially dating for less than a month. He shouldn’t have said it, only he’d been lying in your bed about to go to sleep with your hand in his and he’d never felt anything like it, not home but safe, not home but comfortable, and so so wanted.) 
“I don’t think that’s true,” Spencer says.
“I’m gonna order some soup I think. What are you gonna do today?” Your voice is thick like you can’t breathe through your nose, but still yours.
“I’m gonna put my shoes on and come see you, I guess.” 
“Yeah?”
It’s a no brainier. “What soup do you want, Y/N?” 
He says your name like a compliment. You laugh down the line, which turns into a cough, and a pained moan. “Any kind of soup, babe. You’re really gonna come and see me?” 
“Someone has to take care of you. Ideally me.” 
“Too right.” 
When Spencer gets to your apartment thirty rushed minutes later, you’re already worse. He knocks on your door and you answer with a hand covering your face, your breath audibly shallow. “I forgot that being sick makes you ugly.” 
Spencer takes your wrist in his hand kindly. “Nothing can make you ugly. Come on, let me see.” 
“I’m serious.” 
“So am I!” 
You aren’t pretty, you’re stunning. You’re gorgeous. You’ve been the most beautiful woman Spencer’s ever seen since the moment he saw you, not just because of your looks, of which you take great care, but because of your heart, how kind you’d been to him and continue to be. Your confident personality has never once made you cruel. He couldn’t say the same for most people, so you could have snot running down your lips and a zit the size of Quantico on your forehead and he’d still think you were the most amazing thing he’d ever seen. 
“Come on,” he says again, “I know you’re still beautiful.” 
You let him pull your hand down, unveiling your puffy eyes and chapped nose. “I don’t know how I got sick so fast.” 
The tote bag he’d brought with him slips into his elbow and pulls down his sweater sleeve as he grabs your shoulder. “You said you looked ugly.” 
“I do!” 
“All you do is lie.” He gives you a small smile. Am I doing this flirting thing right? 
“I wanna kiss you so bad.”
Your audible heartbreak is convincing. “I’ll still kiss you.” His desperation is even more evident than yours. “I’d love to kiss you.” Even if it’s usually you who kisses him. 
You close your eyes and lean in for a kiss at the same time. Just one kiss, firm for a millisecond, no parting lips or tongue to be seen but just as good a kiss as any other. Spencer must’ve had about thirty of them now, yet a kiss from you never feels real. 
“I’ll look after you if you get sick,” you promise, pulling away. 
He was counting on it. He hates germs, hates being sick, but he loves you. Whatever happens is out of his hands. 
You seem a little unsteady on your feet, now Spencer’s looking at you. You’re wearing loose white pyjamas with blue flowers, and on your feet you have a pair of shoes somewhere between slippers and boots, brown fabric with fluffy white insides he’s seen you sporting on the jet from time to time when you’re at your most achingly tired. 
You look adorable and tipping. He eases out of his shoes, sliding the bag of tinned soup, crackers and about seventy dollars worth of cold medicine onto the sideboard so he can put his hand under your arm. 
“Let’s go back to bed,” he says, wrapping you in a supportive hug. 
“Forward,” you tease. 
You shouldn’t. Spencer thinks about intimacy with you and goes insanely pink everytime, though you’re far from new to one another. He especially doesn’t wanna think about it as you cross your room and flop down into bed with a tired sigh. “Come lay down?” 
“I’m wearing jeans.” 
“Did you sit down on the subway?” 
“No, I drove here.” 
“Come on, Spence. Your germs are fine.” You smile at the ceiling as he sits down at the top of your bed. “You drove here? You hate driving.” 
“It was quickest.” 
You drop your head into his lap. Your breathing is laboured. 
“You okay?” he asks you. 
“Just missed you.” 
“I brought you some stuff. Vapour rub and decongestant spray, painkillers, vitamins, everything.” He leans down as he wraps his arms over your front, a promise to look after you. “Try to take a deep breath, angel,” he advises sympathetically. “You sound really out of breath.” 
“Too much standing up.” 
“Standing up can be good for you when you’re sick. It stops you from getting idle diseases and bed sores, and walking is even better for you if you can manage it, it helps unclog your sinuses.” He finishes his fact, and he looks down at you all poorly in his lap, remembering very quickly how lucky he is to have found someone who listens. You didn’t interrupt. You wouldn’t have even thought about it, he’s sure. “But no more standing up or walking around. I’m gonna get you anything you need. You’ll be better in no time.” 
You give him your own grateful smile. “Thank you.” You scrunch up your nose. 
“Are you gonna sneeze? I got balsam tissues.” The damage to your nose has already been done. “Do you have any chapstick? We’ll rub some on your nose to stop it from getting any drier.” 
Your wrinkled nose worsens. “Thank you for coming to look after me,” you say weakly. 
He wants to say you’re his best friend in the whole world, but you’re more than that now. “You’re welcome,” he says quietly, ducking down to plant a kiss near your eyebrow. “I always want to look after you. This is just the first time you’ve let me.” 
You smile contentedly, your voice falling to a whisper. “Will you tell me you love me again?” 
Spencer doesn’t think he’s in any position to deny you. “I love you,” he says truthfully. “Thank you for letting me come over.” 
You turn your face into his arm. “Thank you for wanting to, handsome.” 
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pierregazly ¡ 3 months
Text
the bookworm ꨄ george russell smau
george russell x bookworm/writer!reader
the one where george couldn't be prouder to call you his, even if it seems like the whole world hates you just for doing what you love... even if they don't know the whole truth.
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georgerussell63
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georgerussell63 enjoyed the time off! would never complain about spending time with my best friend, time to get back into things 💪🏎
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username gotta go check off 'george posts shirtless pics during off szn' on my bingo card
username gotta go check off 'yn cares more about her own hobby than her bf' on my bingo card
username girl you got issues with books? can't read?
alex_albon bad hair day? or are hats your new thing
yourusername tried to convince him to go with the bucket hat, but he claims 'all the kids are wearing caps babe'
username girlypop can't even enjoy a holiday with george without being focused on anything other than him??
username he's literally NECKING her in one of the photos?????? do you want her to koala hold him everywhere???
username future wdc russell george and his future writer wife frfr
username 1/2 of these things are probably true and we both know it's not the second lol
yourusername spoiling me always, my handsome handsome man 💗
georgerussell63 wouldn't have spent the last few weeks with anyone else (even if you kick me in your sleep nightly)
username do you think yourusername pictures george as the main male character in any of the books she reads???
username if i can picture him in fanfiction, im sure she pictures him in everything else???
gisèlerosebooks
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liked by yourusername, lilymhe, username, and others
gisèlerosebooks first time being on any device since my trip with my favourite person ended. the love on collided continues to amaze me, and i'm so extremely honoured to continuously receive so much love from not only the reading community, but many of the formula 1 faithful as well. this is NOT the end of the journey, either. for now, let the formula 1 season begin... and maybe find me at a race or two? 🤭
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gisèlerosebooks oh and to my incredible, amazing, handsome boyfriend, thank you so much for always proofreading my formula 1 terminology and understanding. i promise i'll give you real credit one day.
username god adrien is so charles leclerc coded, he's all i could think about this entire book
lilymhe 🏎🫶🏻
username the fact i literally could've cared less about the lil zoom zoom cars before the dirty air series dropped and now im eager for the new season.... gisèle baby why u do this to me
username miss girl???? how are we supposed to find you at any races when we don't even know what you look like!!!
username jealous of gisèle's bf is!!! his gf is too talented for the world
username not throttled being the book to get me back into reading and now i'm blessed wth a second book??? mother is mothering real hard
username this is the type of book series i'd totally read at the track and imagine an f1 driver as my husband sry
username 10/10 book!!! dying!!!
yourusername has posted a story
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georgerussell63 wow we're so lucious and hot
yourusername luscious sweetie
georgerussell63 god i love having a hot, smart, book-writer gf. write a book about me and use that word
yourusername they're all already about you??? (handsome)
username you showed up to a race?????? shocking
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gisèlerosebooks has posted a story
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username omg!!!! where are you!!! dying to meet you omfg
username YOU WERE SERIOUS
georgerussell63 i saw u slip up and post this on the og account loser
georgerussell63 can i have my scooter back ya nerd
gisèlerosebooks no sorry </3 i own it now
georgerussell63 no creds in the books and now my scooter stolen???? you hate the british
gisèlerosebooks my pseudonym is an ODE to you PAL
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georgerussell63
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tagged yourusername and gisèlerosebooks
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georgerussell63 a shame that this weekend didn't go the way we all wanted it to go, i know for a fact we'll be coming out on top soon! i also know yourusername or as most of you seem to prefer (for no valid reason at all) gisèlerosebooks is pretty deep in finishing book 3 and apparently this weekend was super influential??? go me (give me book creds)
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yourusername george!!! lmao!!!
yourusername a heads up next time??? maybe?!?
username 'for no valid reason at all' so SASSY oh boy
username everyone on twitter the other day calling yourusername a freeloader is soooo not doing well rn
lilymhe the secret's out!!!! (shocked, baffled, wild, can i get my books signed now)
username (G)isèle (R)ose... (G)eorge (R)ussell... dare i say... deliberately done
yourusername 🤭
username amazing race this weekend!!! can't wait to see you on top
username no one talking about book 3 almost being done??? or the fact george proofreads all her writing??? so cute
charles_leclerc so collided... is not about me?
georgerussell63 get lost mate
yourusername has posted a story
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georgerussell63 you think im a gentleman??? love you
yourusername the BIGGEST gentleman, i love you
username god this is so cute
georgerussell63
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georgerussell63 that's my little freeloading, best-selling author and future wife!
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username someone come get this chronically online man rn!!
yourusername can i be your freeloader forever??? spending my own money sucks
georgerussell63 my money's your money always my little freeloader
alex_albon emphasis on the best-selling author and future wife part
georgerussell63 you're right mate
username re-reading dirty air and knowing fully the entire book series is about george makes me so happy omg
username proud to admit i loved yourusername before AND after she was revealed as everyone's fav author (and it's not just a hobby losers)
username george doesn't get book creds until he wins a race again :)
yourusername i love this stipulation!!! georgerussell63 thoughts?
georgerussell63 you hate the british.
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i had SO much fun writing this!!! i picked george after going down a george rabbit hole again (of course), so i hope you all love it!! thanks for all the love always.
i'm not necessarily taking requests right now, but if you have suggestions please feel free to send them my way.
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klipkillakai ¡ 3 months
Note
that ony clip gave me so many butterflies omg 😩 it lowk reminded me of a punishment like what if homegirl went out for the first time in a while and missed the curfew only gave her but he see on sasha and historia ig she’s drunk shaking her ass on the car or smthn 😭😭
ouuu girl it gave me butterflies too, but you ate so lemme walk with you rq 🤭
ony was sitting on the couch rolling his second blunt while an episode of breaking bad plays in the background, he doesn’t usually get to watch this show because you usually like to watch love island or your ghetto ass reality shows that he pretends not to be invested in—
he glances at the time on his phone noting that you should be home soon and he leans back and lights his blunt, taking a hit and throwing his lighter back on the coffee table
he ticks a hand in his sweats and mindlessly smokes and watches his show, another hour passes and he checks his phone again sending you a quick text
baby moms 💙
-wya?
he quickly leaves the text and clicks on insta checking your story but seeing it hasn’t been updated for 2hrs, he quickly scrolls and finds sasha’s and clicks through them and stopping on a video of you, drunkenly singing a song and twerking on another one of your ghetto ass homegirls, ony smacks his teeth quickly standing up
“this fucking girl man” he walks towards the door, and grabs his keys, slipping on his slides and getting in his car and speeding off while trynna call you..
“bend that ass over let that coochie breathe” you slur while slowly whining on your friend as she takes a video of you guys, your having a fucking good ass time, you haven’t been out in ages and you miss it, you begged ony to let you go.. and after days acting sweet and a few blow jobs, he let you, but with rules of course.. he gave you a curfew which you gladly accepted but quickly broke as soon as you got a few shots in you—
you were feeling bold, who was he to tell you what you could and couldn’t do, he wasn’t your daddy! well… not all the time anyway—
your standing in your section in your own world, sipping on your drink until, you feel someone behind you, and a chill runs up your spine cause you know exactly who it is, you turn around and look up at him
“didnt i tell you to come come after 12?”
your heart sinks a bit “yea but i was having fu-
“i don’t give a fuck, i told yo lil’ ass that ion fucking trust this club and you still didn’t listen”
you smack your teeth a bit “papa your being so extra right now, nobody is even-
you feel ony’s large hand wrap around your neck and he leans in a whispers in your ear
“im gon tear yo ass up when we get home” you feel tingles bloom in your lower belly and feel your face get hot—
“tell your lil friends your leaving” you softly nod and turn around grabbing your bags and saying soft byes and sorry’s, while your friends give you knowing looks and soft smiles—
ony grabs your hand and drags you out the club as fast as your heels will let you, quickly opening the door for you, and letting you get in before speeding off once again—
“im just trynna get my paper straight” you hear brent sing as ony pounds ya shit, you let out loud moans and choked sobs, “p-please” you whimper out as you reach behind trynna to press against his stomach, running away from the dick—
“nah move ya hand” he roughly says, quickly grabbing your hand and pressing it against your back, pulling your hair, and starting to drill into you—
“oh my god” you whine, pathetically whimpering letting him just man handle you, letting out his frustrations on you…
“take that shit” he grunts, pounding into you “mhm” he whispers, tightening his grip around your hair
“i c-cant” “p-pa-
he hears you he really does, but he can’t get over this shit, not this time, you need to learn, yo lil ass get real disrespectful and he’s tired of it..
“nah tell them all that shit you was saying in the camera, let them hear all this” he lifts you up and pulls you towards the camera, while still pounding into you
“i-im sorry” you sob “im s-so so sorry papa” “pl-please haaa~ ” you feel the tears rolling down your cheeks, your so overstimulated and he’s so deep inside you.. too deep even, you just need a break
“b-break” you choke out.. “need a break”
“hm baby?” “you need a break” he says mockingly while biting his lips after feeling you tighten around him, “lil ass can’t even handle some dick, you think you finna go out again?” “you crazy mama”
“please!” you moan again, pathetically trying to reach down to rub your clit, to soothe some of the stretch your feeling— god it hurts so good, your eyes nearly roll back into your skull—
“you wanna break?” “here” ony quickly pulls out, breathing heavy, grabbing his phone concluding the punishment he was giving you, you lay on the bed heaving, pussy leaking more slick, your shaking and tired..
ony slaps your ass, and leaves hot kisses down your back “i bet you’ll never do some shit like that again” “right mama?” you just tiredly nod.. he slaps your ass again “let me hear you say it” “p-promise papa” “i won’t do it again” ony nods and slowly slips inside you again, this time giving you slow strokes, and rubbing small circles on your clit.. “mmm~
the rest of the night he takes care of you, ending in mind blowing orgasms, he can never stay mad at you for too long, your still his baby girl..
|a/n|
wait yall!! i’m fucking with this oneeee ouuuu, yall i love me some ony! 🤭
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talaok ¡ 3 months
Text
Daddy knows best
Pairing: Step-dad!Joel Miller x Step-daughter!reader
Summary: Joel has given you homework, and although you've never watched porn, one particular thing you see does pique your interest (this is part of a series but can be read alone)
Warnings: step-incest, manipulation, straight-out lying, hence, dub-con, Perv Joel, predatory behavior, very very naive and innocent reader |Smut| fingering, squirting, anal play, one lil pussy slap, unprotected p in v sex, creampie, allusion to oral sex (m), he takes a pic, and LOADS of daddy-kink (Joel is also meaner in this one)
This is a dark fic, so please for the love of god read the warnings and just scroll if you don't like what you see.
a/n: I am a very sick individual. dont read this. honestly. just dont
Pt. 1 - Pt. 2
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"Hi daddy!" you smiled, shutting the door to your room to greet him at the entrance.
"hello sweetheart" he grinned at your excitement getting rid of his jacket and throwing it on the coat stand before his eyes traveled to you, and god was he thankful they did.
That tiny baby blue skirt he's bought you was a damn good investment, and your own touch of that little fucking white top was just as good.
There you were, on display for him, all for him... and you didn't even know.
"I like the outfit" he smirked, tilting his head to get a better look at your naked thighs, thighs he now knew from experience to be soft and just... perfect.
"thank you daddy" you giggled, smiling happily
"You know what you need to do sugar, go on" he gestured, his voice deep and almost strained at the thought of what was about to happen.
It had turned into a routine now, but his dick certainly never got used to it.
"of course" you nodded, obedient as ever, your hands going to the hem of your skirt and slowly, slowly bringing it up- up enough to show him your bare core.
Panties weren't allowed anymore.
He didn't know what it was, but there was just something about the fact that he had the power to make you do that, to make you show your whole naked pussy to him in the middle of the living room, in the way your eyes remained on him, patiently waiting for further instructions, pending from his every word, there was something about that that made him thank each existing god every single time.
He got his good look, and then with just a nod he'd made you cover yourself up again.
"good girl" he smiled, getting rid of his boots as you eagerly stalked closer to him.
"how's my favorite girl doing?" he asked, his voice sweet as he wrapped one arm around you, pushing you closer to him.
"good" you nodded "my exam went well today at school"
Your math exam, the same one he'd watched you study a whole week for, even "helping out" in his own way once or twice... a kiss down there for every right answer had become your new favorite study method.
"mhh, of course" he smirked, stroking your cheek "pretty and smart, now that's my girl"
You bit your lip at his words, that warm feeling traveling between your legs once again.
"a-and how did your day go?" you realized was your turn to ask once you got out of the trance his eyes made you spiral into every time.
"mh" he hummed, shutting his eyes for a moment as if to clear his mind of bad memories from his day "Not great sweetheart... but it would have been a hell of a lot worse if I didn't know I was getting you all to myself tonight"
Once again, heat shot to your cheeks at the flattery.
"you thought about me?"
"'f course I did" he spoke softly "couldn't stop thinkin' about all the ways I can help you out tonight"
"yeah?" your eyes widened, excitement piercing through your tone.
"oh yeah" he growled, kissing you as his hand squeezed one of your asscheeks.
You whimpered into his mouth, and he leaned away.
"did you do your homework sugar?"
"mh-mh" you nodded, "I didn't have a lot today, just English" 
A chuckle rumbled deep from his chest
He did that often, smiling and laughing at something you said, and each time, you were left confused as to why.
"not those homework, babygirl"
The sound of a choked "oh" came out of your mouth, and that smug, predatory smile he always seemed to have around you persisted on his lips.
"y-yes" you said finally "yes I-I was doing them now"
"yeah?" he grinned, his fingers on your ass trailing lower and lower... and then lower, until his digits connected with your pussy- your wet, drenched pussy.
"I can feel it" he chuckled, his fingers sliding into you for no more than a second, 
"daddy" you whimpered
"clean daddy's fingers" he shushed you, bringing the proof of your arousal to your lips, and watching you closely, as you obeyed his command.
It was salty, saltier than his come, you noticed, licking his fingers clean.
"you were in your room?" 
you nodded
"let's go then"
__ __ __
Your room was the same as always, pink everywhere, filling every inch of the space, your curtains were drawn, but some light still soaked through them, and the lamp on your bedside did the rest.
You walked before him, as he had instructed, and when you both entered, he closed the door behind you.
You were moving to the bed where you'd left your laptop, when Joel's voice stopped you.
"What's that shirt doing on the floor?"
"oh I must have left it there when I changed" you explained, crouching down to pick it up 
"not like that" He tutted "Bend down, keep your legs straight"
You frowned, but obeyed nonetheless, feeling cool air hit your core
"stay like that" 
"w-why?"
"'cause daddy's gotta take a picture," he said, pulling out his phone and doing just that, a damn good view in front of him.
"w-why are you always taking pictures?"
he rolled his eyes at your need to question him.
"cause they help me keep track of how healthy you are" he lied through his teeth, walking to you until he could place one of his hands on each of your asscheeks, stroking lazily.
"for example, right now your pussy's very healthy" he drawled, one hand leaving your ass to land a quick slap to your core.
You jolted forward, gasping at the feeling.
It stung, but it also felt kinda... good
He chuckled softly again
"got it?"
"y-yes daddy" you gulped, as he helped you get up, groaning lowly at the feeling of your ass meeting his hard cock.
he turned you around, moving some hair out of your face.
"take off your top"
You did.
"now your skirt"
Again, you did,
remaining completely naked before him.
"good girl" he breathed, his index fingers traveling from the valley of your breasts to your navel, his eyes following suit "Now show me what you found" he nodded to the computer,
He sat on the bed, back against the headboard, and then placed you onto his lap.
He smiled at what he saw on your laptop.
"I-I went to the site you told me" you breathed, your voice no more than a whisper.
"so what do you think of porn?" he smirked
"I-I" Although you were naked, it felt a thousand degrees in that room, and his hands stoking your thighs and your nipples certainly weren't helping "I like... some of it"
"Which ones?"
"the ones that don't feel f-fake" you swallowed thickly 
He just grinned
"and did you find a favorite one like I asked you?"
You bit your lip as you nodded, tapping on your computer to switch tabs
"this one"
It was an amateur one, not in hd, the camera not even straight, but the couple... you really liked them
"play it"
with a tap of your middle finger, soft moans started filling the room, as the man in the video started pleasuring the woman with his mouth, grabbing at every piece of her with his hands, as if he couldn't help it, as if he wanted to devour all of her.
You didn't even notice your hips starting to move on their own accord, trying to grind onto something- anything, as your thighs squeezed shut.
Joel chuckled behind you, his eyes not on the screen but on you.
"what do you like about it?" 
His lips met with your shoulder as his fingers pinched your nipple, and there was nothing that could have stopped the moan that escaped you from doing so.
"T-they just look so... happy" you whispered, trying not to cry because of how desperately needy you felt between your legs "so in love"
This time, Joel managed to bite down his laugh
"a-and I like-"
you stopped, too embarrassed all of a sudden
"what?"
"n-nothing"
Joel shook his head, his mouth to your ear
"You're drenching my pants, sweetheart, it ain't nothing"
You almost moaned at just the sound of how deep and hot his voice sounded
"I like that" you confessed, urging him to look at the screen
"you like that?"
he didn't even sound like himself anymore, just a wolf, a wolf holding a defenseless bunny.
"y-yes"
"you like that she's on top of him" he taunted, "that she's riding his cock" he murmured "'s that right darlin'?"
"y-yes daddy" you cried, turning your head to look at him, to beg at him "Please" you whimpered "please daddy do something"
It wasn't just heat now, it was burning flames of need pooling between your thighs.
"what about the other part of the homework?" he didn't mind your pleas
"I- I couldn't daddy" you whined, real tears now stinging your eyes "I couldn't do it, not without you daddy- please"
"aw baby" he cooed "my dumb little baby" fake concern filled his features "Show me what you were doing"
"no please daddy just- you do it"
You were going crazy, literally crazy because of how utterly desperate you were.
"stop whining and do as I say" he ordered, his voice colder "or I'm done helping you out"
As if, he laughed in his mind
You obeyed immediately.
You needed him to help you out, there was so much you still had to learn, and you couldn't possibly teach all that to yourself, you couldn't even masturbate for god's sake.
"lay on your back and show me" he said again, as he got up.
He closed your laptop and set in on the floor as you positioned yourself in front of him.
You slowly planted your feet onto the mattress, spreading your legs.
His ravenous gaze fixed on your core.
"go on"
So you did,
One of your trembling fingers traveled to your core, and slowly- oh so slowly- you pushed it inside of you, whimpering lightly.
He didn't say anything, and so you started moving it, trying to mimic what you've seen him so countless times now... and failing miserably.
"I-I can't" an unsatisfied whine fled your mouth
"'f course you can't, not like that" Joel smirked devilishly "Put another finger in"
"b-but"
"just do it"
You tried, you really tried... but you were so scared, it just felt like too much, like you couldn't handle all that
"I-It doesn't fit- it's too much" you cried "Please daddy help me- please please please"
God, but did you ever stop whining?
And so partially because he wanted you to stop, and partially because he just wanted to, he grabbed your waist, pulling you to the edge of the bed, and dropped to his knees.
"It doesn't fit?" he mocked, your fingers pulling out of you just in time for him to plunge two of his own in.
You gasped and moaned and cried all at once.
"Then how come this little pussy can take my whole cock?" he didn't even wait for you to adjust, to stop squirming, before his index finger thrust inside you "How come I can fit three of my fingers in here?"
Real tears fell from your eyes as you moaned and arched your back like a cat.
You tried shutting your legs, but he spread them apart mercilessly, gripping your thighs as his fingers thrust in and out of you at a scathing pace
He'd never been like this, so fast, so mean
You didn't know if you were breathing, you didn't know if you were alive, if you had fainted, you didn't know anything besides how good you were feeling, how much pleasure he was giving you after you'd been starved so long for it.
"is it too much now?" he mocked, watching you fall apart in front of him "because it looks like it ain't" he growled "it looks like i could fit all my fingers in here and it still wouldn't be enough"
You moaned, you moaned so loud your throat hurt.
"'s that what you want, you want to be completely filled like a little slut?"
slut
he'd never called you that- why did he call you that? Why did it make you clench around him? why why why-
"no please daddy" you moaned "'s too much"
"three fingers is enough for this little pussy?" he teased 
"yes daddy yes- I-"
It was like making a deal with the devil, if you weren't specific enough...
"what about this other pretty hole?" he smirked, his fingers slowing as two of his fingers from his left hand reached between your asscheeks, grazing your other hole 
"d-daddy" you just stuttered
"I think we need to start stretching this one darlin'"
You gasped, as he used your moisture to wet his middle finger and trailed downwards
"I- b-but daddy"
"daddy's gonna fuck it one of these days" he interrupted "and we don't want it to hurt do we?"
You tried to calm your breathing as you answered
"y-you mean you want t-to-"
He chuckled, his fingers pushing into your g-spot making your mind just a big dumb mess.
"I mean I'm gonna fuck your ass babygirl" he explained, his finger pushing more and more at the entrance "it's another lesson, you see" he murmured "but I need to prepare you for it- I need to stretch you out real good for my cock"
His cock. Inside there. How on Earth was that gonna happen?
"That's why you're gonna be good and let me put this finger in here" he emphasized his words by pushing slightly "aren't you sweetheart?"
"I-is it gonna hurt?"
"not if you relax" he cocked a brow "are you gonna relax for me?"
"y-yes" you surrendered "yes daddy"
And that was that.
He pushed his finger into you, slowly, even though there was nothing he would have liked more to just thrust it, and hear your shocked cry.
But the moan you let out- oh the moan you let out was worth every moment of his painful self control.
It wasn't particularly pleasant at first, but then... then it was like fire spread through you, and when the fingers in your pussy started moving faster it was like gasoline dunked onto the flames.
it didn't just feel good, it felt... new.
It felt like heaven and hell altogether, and then it felt like... it felt like you needed to pee.
"d-daddy!" you gasped, your hips grinding shamelessly onto him "daddy's not right- I-I"
tears rolled down your temples, and your belly twisted into knots as your walls tightened and tightened around him.
"Shhh" he shushed you "let go" he said, "let go darlin'"
And so you did.
A rainstorm of pleasure putting out all the fire inside you. Pure, divine bliss took over you as you looked at him, crying out and squirming uncontrollably, until it was all over... until you realized what had just happened.
Whatever that was
"o-oh my god" your eyes widened, taking in his drenched shirt, his wet mouth and chin which you didn't even notice he'd put on you as you soaked him to get a taste "I-I'm so sorry daddy- I- I don't know what-"
He was on you before you could blink.
"sorry?" he laughed "what are you sorry about?"
"I-I-"
"you squirted" he grinned "ain't there nothin' wrong with that... the opposite actually"
"S-squirted?"
"that's right"
"and you're not mad?"
"why would I be mad?" he asked, amusement and thrill glossing his eyes "It's just like when daddy comes all over your face babygirl" he explained "You like that, don't you?"
"mh-mh" you nodded
his cock twitched at that
"And I like when you come all over mine baby"
"oh"
"yeah" he chuckled, kissing you deeply "I'm gonna make you squirt every fucking day from now on sweetheart"
You could only smile before he kissed you again
"now how 'bout we do that thing you saw?" he asked, "you wanna ride my cock sweetheart?"
"yes" you nodded eagerly
"then let's get to it, shall we?"
He gave you one last kiss, before he leaned back, undressing completely.
He chuckled as he caught you eating him up with your eyes, but said nothing as he laid on his back.
"c'mere" was all he said, grabbing your waist as you sat on top of him, your core inches away from his cock.
your hands raked his chest, stroking and admiring him, before you looked at his hungry gaze, and asked:
"what do I do?"
His eyes fell to where his cock sat on his belly
"take my dick in your hand"
You did as instructed, mesmerized by how big and beautiful it looked.
"now raise your hips a little, and slide me into you"
You did what he said, but just as he started entering you, you froze, the feeling foreign and not... good.
The woman in the video seemed to enjoy it so much, why can't I?
"you gotta relax" Joel explained, his right hand going to your clit "Let me in" he murmured, drawing circles on your bud "it'll feel good babygirl, just let daddy in"
And so, slowly, slowly you started sinking onto his manhood, whimpers and moans fleeing your throat with every inch added.
Util finally, you had done it.
"o-oh my god" you choked at the feeling.
He was deeper than he'd ever been, that you ever thought possible.
"good girl" he smirked
You didn't even have time to think about what you were doing that your hips were already moving, grinding onto him, bringing heaven to your core.
"O-Oh m-my"
"bounce on it darlin'"
Your hands sat on his chest as you obeyed, feeling his grip on your waist tighten as you raised and lowered onto his cock, moaning as you threw your head back.
now you understood that woman, It felt amazing
And so you started doing it again and again and again, clawing at his chest as groans rumbled from it.
"good god" he grunted "f-fuck"
"it feels so good daddy" you breathed, your lungs burning for oxygen
"yeah? You like riding me, baby?"
"yes" you cried "I like it so much daddy" 
"like having my cock so deep inside ya?"
"god yes" you whimpered 
"yeah?" he mocked, raising his hips to meet yours and forcing a roar out of you
"daddy! I-"
"you're coming already?"
"y-yes daddy I-"
He cocked a brow as he watched you
"think you deserve to?" he asked, "after acting like that before?"
"please" you begged, your voice nothing but a thread "please daddy let me come"
he remained stoic, and you were so close...
"please daddy, I'm sorry I'll be better, I'll be good- I promise"
He smirked now
"you promise?"
A nod, that was all you could offer
"No more questioning me when I'm trying to help?"
"n-no" you shook your head "I'll do whatever you tell me, whatever you want"
That's all he needed
"come on my cock sugar" he ordered "come like the good little girl you are"
You swore you blacked out after that, the pleasure was so deep and so strong it knocked you out.
The next thing you knew, you were laying beside him, your head on his chest, his come leaking out of you.
he'd already told you you needed to tell mom you wanted to take the pill
The words were out of you before you could stop them.
"Y-you were a little... mean before-" you swallowed "when you were using your- fingers"
He groaned internally
"I know babygirl" he cooed, caressing your arms soothingly "but you were acting like a little brat, and I just- I ran out of patience"
"o-oh" 
"I'm here to help you, so it's hard for me when you act like that, understand?"
God how stupid you had been.
He was doing you a favor, and you were acting like a child.
"I-I'm sorry daddy" You pouted, leaning up to kiss him "I'm really sorry I won't do it again"
"thank you sweetheart" he smiled "but I think there's a better way to use that pretty mouth of yours to apologize"
You gulped, as you followed his gaze to his cock
"I'm kind of tired daddy" you murmured
"I know you are" he cooed "but daddy knows best, baby"
"You made me really mad sugar" he explained "And if you want to apologize real good... you're gonna need to suck daddy's cock"
And just like that, you were ascending down his body.
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