#because i know i'll start seeing lots of 'BUT WHERE IS _____' comments
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Dating Emily Prentiss - Headcanons
some of these are nsfw
-She is the softest girlfriend ever
-always seems so strong, so badass, but she has the softest spot for you, you make her heart melt, and she never fights it back
-suuuuuuper posessive, gets jealous easily
-one time during a case, one of the local cops started flirting with you. Emily was fuming, pulling you close to her, her hands on your waist, putting your hair behind your ear, she had done it all, but this guy was just not getting it. Once the case was closed, he was about to ask you out for a drink, when Emily heard it, she run to where you were (still speechless) and kissed your lips, it was a explicit kiss, her hands on your waist possessively, a deep, passionate and romantic kiss, taking you by surprise. The guy was flabbergasted to say the least. "hey baby, ready to go?" she asks when she pulls apart. She looks at you, still out of words, and then to the guy, his mouth still opened in awe. "oh, sorry, you were saying?" he doesn't bother you anymore
-she loves having you over at her place because it's like sharing her intimacy with you, and she is a SUCKER for any kind of intimacy
-seeing you sitting around her place, walking around her kitchen messing around, cooking, listening to music and dancing, you on her couch, hanging your bras on the bathroom, randomly finding a sock or a pair of lost underwear after a night together... she loves having you around so much that you have your own drawer at her place after only 3 months of dating.
-another form of intimacy that she loves is when you wear her clothes. Hell. She loves it. She's feral for it. She always insists you look better on them anyway. She will wear it after because it smells like you, the scent calms her down, so she buries her nose into it every once in a while.
-physical touch is her no1 love language, in the sense that she will take any chance she gets to touch you. Her hand on your thigh. Will hold yours under the table every time. She caresses your shoulder, your arm. Will hold your hand on the plane during landing. When you go back after a case on the jet she'll have you laying on her, full on hugging sometimes, your back laying on her chest, she will play with strands of your hair, tickle your forearm... anything she can, she will touch
-she loves showing you off, always refers to you as "my girlfriend". "i'm gonna call my girlfriend" "i need to ask my girlfriend first" "Sure! I'll call my girlfriend to ask her if she wants to come" ...
-WILL tease the team, specially Morgan as he instists on making comments about your relationship (he never means wrong, he's not fetizishing you, it's just what he knows) "Prentiss, you and pretty girl had a good night?" "damn well we did" / "hey Prentiss any reason why you're both wearing turtle necks today? (she uncovers her neck, showing off the purple marks you had left) don't worry, you should see how i left her"
-at the beginning it would embarrass you a lot, now you've learned to enjoy it, and you even join in sometimes "Hey Prentiss, got a whip? (he says holding the leather attire to her body) You bet she does" Em loves it when you tease too.
-she definitely praises you in different languages, specially Italian because you love it (yes i'm projecting, so what, Italian is sexier than French, i said what i said)
-she's a huuuge nerd, so you bet movie marathons are a thing. She'll also keep asking you to pay attention if she has already seen it "Baby look! Look, this is the best part!" "I'm looking Em, I promise I'm looking"
-Chocolate, red wine and cherries are her 3 faves. You once got a perfume that smelled like cherries and she loved it so much she spent hours with her nose buried in your neck
-After several months of dating, you suggested to go on a little weekend trip. She was reluctant at first, but you convinced her as soon as you showed her the big jacuzzi at the hotel. She loved it so much and you had such a great time, that you started going on them every time you had a free weekend
-She has a tattoo on her ribs, right next to her boob. It was a stupid decision she made when she was 16, she instantly regretted it, hated it, and had always thought about getting it removed, until you started dating. You loved it, constantly reminding her how sexy it looked, kissed all the way around it, it made her feel so confident about it that she even started liking it, although it kind of looked like shit.
-She's not controlling at all, but she is over protective. She will murder whoever dares to touch you. (You know that scene when Spencer bends a guy's arm when he touches Tara? something like that)
-She loooooves giving you hickeys, but obviously they can't be visible, so she marks you all around. Your boobs, your thighs, your waist...
-She's a top, but she likes experimenting and will let you (and enjoy it just as much) take the lead whenever you feel like it.
-Has a whole folder on her phone for pictures of you with Sergio, most of them candid that you don't even know about
-loves showers and baths together, any time you go for a shower you can be sure she's joining you inside. You always say how inconvenient it is, but she always goes "we need to save water, honey"
-into astrology but will never admit it (she literally recognises constellations HELLO?!)
-You love her nose so much. She's always been kind of self conscious about it, but you reassured her every time, kissing it, praising her, you always told her how perfect it was for eating pussy, and that convinced her. Or maybe it was your moans after the tip of her nose bruised against your clit when she ate you out. You're not sure.
-Before she met you, she hadn't come out to her mom, nether had taken any partner home, when you started dating she told you about it, you insisted that it didn't matter, she had to do it when she was ready, if she ever was. It only took her 6 months to tell her and introduce you both.
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
A/N: might do a part two in some time because there are SO MANY omg she's the cutest (like and reblog <3 )
#criminal minds x reader#emily prentiss#emily prentiss imagine#emily prentiss lesbian#lesbian#lesbian pride#wlw#wlw fanfic#wlw smut#emily prentiss hcs#emily prentiss headcanons#headcanon#Emily Prentiss x reader
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Immediate Writer's Block
Had a comment on another post where I thought I'd probably need more space than the notes in which to respond, so:
constant-state-of-self-discovery
Oh I get the envy I feel it right now how the fuck do you manage to write without impassable writers block after 5-9 sentences because I haven't fucking figured it out lol
I do have some advice on this!
I think most writers get blocked from time to time, it's normal and my general strategy is just to wait it out, but if you're frequently blocked after only writing a very little bit, I think the problem is one of two things: either you don't know what you want to achieve with the scene you're writing, or you don't know what should happen next within the scene to achieve that goal. If you frame "I'm blocked" as "I don't have an answer I need" then often you move from just sitting there, sweating and staring at a blank page, to thinking productively about how you're going to get where you're going. It's the difference between not knowing an answer and not knowing an answer but knowing where to look for it.
An invaluable piece of advice for this, which I think I picked up from someone who got it off a National Novel Writing Month messageboard, is "When in doubt, ninjas attack." It's not meant to be literal, you don't need to have ninjas or fight scenes just because you don't know what to do, but it helps to get the creativity flowing again. If you don't know what should happen next, or you know but you're having trouble actually writing the scene, it can be very helpful to induce a moment of uncertainty or surprise -- to have a metaphorical ninja attack. One time I did this literally -- the POV character was just on the road somewhere and I didn't know how to get them from a pastoral country road to their actual destination in an interesting way, so I had them get attacked by highway bandits and have to fight them off, which also allowed me to demonstrate that the character had significant unarmed combat skills. But it can also just be like, two characters who are having a boring conversation can be interrupted by a third person, even just a stranger asking for directions, or there can be, IDK, an explosion, or something goes missing, or etc.
Sometimes it also helps to leave it alone but keep it in your mind and go do something else -- listen to a podcast, take a walk, read a book, not because those things are distracting but because all our inputs eventually feed into our brain and come out as reactions. If you're thinking about your book while you're wandering around a park, something you see in the park might have an impact on it. If you've got YOUR story in mind while reading someone else's, you might be more inclined to look at what they're saying and see what you think of it, how it might play into your work.
And honestly, sometimes you just gotta go past it. I'm working on the next Shivadh novel right now and it opens basically with Simon the chef getting into a spat with his love-interest-to-be over some cheese. He want the cheese, she won't sell him the cheese, so they get off to a very contentious start. But I suck at writing conflict especially when it's basically "A character I like is being pompous and another character I want people to find likable is being stubborn and somewhat unpleasant". I've been stalled on it for a while. But I know where the scene ends up, like I do know what the goal is, so I just...skipped it and went on to writing a scene I like better, where they meet a second time and actually discover each others' identity and that they're about to be forced into the grownup equivalent of a school project. Once I've gotten dug deeper into the story I'll come back and write it, and by then I'll have the benefit of knowing the love interest a bit better.
So yeah -- I think a lot of breaking a writer's block, especially when you don't need rest but are just stumped about what to do, is to twist and look at it from another angle. It's not that you don't know what to write, or don't want to write what you know you have to -- it's that you don't have the correct answer to a question, or you need to leave that part alone to ferment and come back to it later. At least, for me.
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Maxie Infodump #1 - Little known character details from official media
I promised to post some of my maxie infodumps and headcannons, and I think I'll start it off with something simple. His official character bio that was hosted originally on the first release of ORAS
(this will be ORAS Maxie focused)
here is a transcript for easy reading:
"Maxie is the leader of Team Magma, the team seeking a world ideal for humanity. He pays attention to even the smallest of details, and is quite sensitive in some regards. He has a habit of describing situations in numerical terms. He possesses a cool-headed outlook, thinking that some sacrifices cannot be avoided if he is to achieve his goals."
Okay, so first, after looking at the original japanese version of this page,
小さいことまで細かく気にする、神経質なところがあり、さまざまなことを数字を交えてあらわすのが口癖。
目的を果たすためなら、犠牲が出ても仕方ないと考える冷徹な思想の持ち主でもある。
The one word in here I wanted to be sure of was 'sensitive' since it can have many meanings, and the original japanese gives us some possibilities with:
Personally I think (being) highly strung is the most likely option here, but either way its an interesting character trait. And we all know he certainly builds up frustration and tension and explodes a bit like a volcano. Even if he does manage to correct himself afterwards.
~ ANYWAYS ~
Now that we have the bio, let's break it down a little and look at some fun examples of it in action!
Maxie has a habit of describing situations in numerical terms. This typically comes out more when he is nervous or stressed. Here are some examples:
Ill just take ORAS as an example here since this is already getting pretty long...
In ORAS after fighting him at mt chimney, he lets you know in a specific numerical way, how much he fell behind:
And then again, when you battle with him and lose in the Battle Resort where he just has to let you know the situation in numerical terms by giving you the exact lose chance according to his own calculations of course:
"So the great Maxie has fallen, even when battling alongside your team... I shall commit this curious phenomenon to memory. It had less than a 1 percent probability of occurring, you know."
this culminates in a really interesting interaction between him and courtney after the delta episode. While It's pretty clear that Maxie cares for his team and especially his admins, he definitely struggles when faced with his crying admin, and being unsure of what to say, he settles with a numerical quantifier again.
He assesses the situation, and decides to comment on how MUCH courtney is crying.
His "paying attention to even the smallest details" trait also ties into this habit of his, and is probably why he jumps to conclusions a little too early because of small things he's noticed. Accusing Tabitha of wanting his spot as leader, just because he disagreed with him is one of those situations.
Pokemon Masters EX has a lot of new scenes with Maxie, and I would love to talk all day about them, but I'll just pick out one here, and that's from the "A pasio Spectacle" event.
In this event, Maxie overhears team break members simply say the word 'glasses' and instantly jumps to the conclusion that not only did they want to talk to him, but that they noticed his "magnificent mega glasses" and would like to hear a lecture on how they were scientifically made.
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rZmmaf9bhD8&t=144s
here's a link to watch it, its worth it :D
He certainly picks up on small details, but tends to miss the bigger picture sometimes, which is fun because I believe archie tends to do the opposite.
Perhaps his mega glasses are actually designed to reflect this, because they work like horse blinders, and keep maxie looking straight ahead (trust me, I've made a pair of these, and you cannot see someone standing to your immediate side).
Looking straight ahead is also relevant to his life goal, of ensuring the bright future of humanity, and as he says: "propel humanity to greater heights of progress and evolution."
And that concludes my infodump regarding this one little bio that is no longer available without the wayback machine, and I just wanted to share it with any other Maxie fans out there :D
Next I think I might tackle the bigger topic of how Archie and Maxie have so many fun contrasts in personality and more. and then maaayyybe I'll feel comfortable enough sharing my headcannons and theories. But only if people want more lol, I am not good at writing big posts :>
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#mine#doctor who#dwedit#david tennant#catherine tate#jodie whittaker#billie piper#elisabeth sladen#mandip gill#sophie aldred#janet fielding#bonnie langford#dw spoilers#ok while i was making this i started second guessing myself if i should even post it lol#because i know i'll start seeing lots of 'BUT WHERE IS _____' comments#but oh well i'm sending it out!!!!#i was only aiming for the scenes where they said something along the lines of 'i used to be like you' ok!!#i thought about adding in when donna met martha for the first time too#but it didn't really fit with the classic companions you know...#ok i should probably wind down for the night lol#good night friends!!!!#i will be thinking about dw all day at work tomorrow!!!!
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habits of a clandestine nature | jjk
pairing: collegejk x female oc (angst, smut)
warnings: college!jk, rich!jk, he's a college nepo baby!!!, waitress!oc, flashbacks to summer, (mild) enemies to lovers, oc lives with tae (they're besties), jk is besties with jimin, mentions of parents infidelity, mentions of oc's virginity (lost prior to the story starting), a little angsty, jk is nawt a fuckboi, but he is stewpid, unprotected sex, bathroom escapades, multiple positions, oral (f), mentions of blowjobs, house parties, jackson wang!!!!!!!, yoongi has no lines but is also one of my fave characters lmao
wordcount: 16k
note from holly: this was written as a commission over on ko-fi!! it went through soooo many changes and edits - at one point it was over 24k lmao. i have so much lore and backstory for this couple, but I'll save it for a rainy day!! one of the main prompts was the 2004 classic a cinderella story, and there are little nods to it throughout the story, including the diner name!! a commenter on wattpad said the pairing reminded them of danny and sandy from grease and like... i see it lmao. anywaysss enjoy!! <33
minors dni // cross posted to wattpad
It's a well-trained habit, your fleeting glance towards the door of Montgomery's Diner when the bell rings.
Though the clatter of cheap porcelain being stacked on a tray almost manages to drown out the chiming metal, it's never quite enough. Softening your hardened expression, you continue on with your work, careful to not let your contempt show too much.
You already know who it is—or at least, who it could be. Only saw the girl leading the pack, but know that where Claudia goes, the rest of The Untouchables will surely follow.
Gorgeous in a way that money can't buy, and careless in a way that money makes up for, she's never taken personal issue with you. Barely even registers your existence.
From your quick look, you know that it's not just the girls today. It's the guys, too.
All with parents on the college board, they're regarded as campus royalty. Are aptly known as The Untouchables, 'cause the rules that apply to you don't apply to them. They'll likely continue with their lives in a similar manner for years to come, and will pass these attributes off to their offspring, whom they'll name after countries or distant relatives who were once regarded to be regal.
Gathering up the last of the discarded napkins on the table, you take one final, fleeting look just to see if a familiar face is with them.
It's not that you actively want to see him.
You just haven't seen him in the best part of a fortnight, which is odd.
He's been in your section of the Diner near enough every single night of the past three months—but school is starting up again, and he's got appearances to keep.
God-forbid Jeon Jungkook—son of the Admissions Director and heir-apparent to an unholy amount of real estate tied to the university—ever associates with the lowly scholarship kids like you.
The only reason The Untouchables ever come to this Diner is because it's the last remaining place close to the university that hasn't been snapped up and integrated into the campus. You guess it must feel like freedom to them, in a way.
In fact, you know this is the case. Jungkook has told you himself.
Has told you a lot.
Told you far too much.
Such candid honesty from him, shared during the lonely heat of a sweltering summer, is what makes it so jarring when he looks away as soon as his dark eyes meet yours.
Tall, broad, handsome; he's everything the gossip magazines you read during your downtime swoon over, but also everything they warn against. Too pretty for his own good, the resident agony aunt would call him if she were ever to see him. Would assume his ego is far larger than his shoe size; superiority complex embedded into his skin like the ink of his tattoos.
And while you think that perhaps those assumptions could be true, you also know the reality of him; how gentle his hands can be. Helpful, too. Delicate. Ornate, almost, when they fold bills into five petal flowers. Strong, when they grip the back of your neck. Commanding, when they're wrapped around his leather steering wheel.
You shouldn't know the way his car smells. Shouldn't know how he presses the heel of his palm against the wheel when he's reversing, or just how easy it is to clamber into the backseats over the centre console.
But you do, and it rests on your tongue like a dirty little secret desperate to escape: I know you.
You're not sure if you know him better than The Untouchables, but you know him independent of them. Not many people do.
It's rare to find him without Jimin cracking a joke by his side, or Claudia making a slightly mean remark masked as innocent ignorance as she leads him astray.
But summer happened, and so did Jungkook. With his friends away at their holiday homes, and his father's infidelity ripping his family apart at the seams, he'd needed something to stitch himself back together. Let you thread yourself through his very being, and once you'd tied yourself in a pretty little bow around his heart, he'd cut you off.
Is that not what all craftsmen do, though? Discard what no longer serves a purpose?
Memories of him, in all the places you never should have let him in, ravage your thoughts.
The scent of his aftershave lingers on the childhood plushie he used to tease you for having on your bed, but would also automatically hug into his chest every single time he entered your room.
The things he did—and the things he didn't do—corrupt your dreams and leave you restless when you wake.
The smudged mascara under your eyes hides the bags from your lack of sleep, and your only respite is that the little puffs beneath his eyes are extra prominent today. He's tried, too.
For a minute, you feel vindicated.
It doesn't last.
For the past few months, if he's been sleeping badly, you've known about it. Kept him company in this very Diner, or in the basement of a party house he was dumb enough to take you to, forgetting he'd have to return there after summer finished, too.
The walls might not talk, but Jackson Wang certainly does. Jungkook knows it's only a matter of time until his dirty little secrets—no matter how pure they actually are—become the talk of the town.
He always slept well in your bedroom, though.
Funny, that.
He's dressed simply, today: white t-shirt, black jeans, chunky black boots on his feet. It's still warm out, even if the sun does begin to set a little earlier than it had been during the hotter months. He's got no need for a jacket, and you despise how undeniably gorgeous his arms are in the dewy humidity. Tattoos trailing up and down his skin, you'd be forgiven for thinking he was a man of complexities.
Turns out he's just like every other good-for-nothing fuck boy who wasn't worth your time.
The Untouchables sit towards the front of the Diner. Your section is at the back, and there's no way in hell you're deviating from your set section. Not today. Not when he's with them.
"I thought we were free," your colleague, Maria, grumbles as you bring your tray to the counter.
Like you, she's a scholarship kid. Is the one who got you the job at the Diner after you both moved into the shared house you live in off-campus. Three of you live there—you, Maria, and Taehyung—and you all share the same disdain for The Untouchables.
"It never ends," you tease in reply. Glance over your shoulder, back at the table.
They're laughing and joking about something you can't quite decipher. All of them, except Jungkook.
There's a sternness to him. One of which you'd forgotten about. With one hand on the table, the other in his lap, his thumb fidgets over his tense knuckles. Sunglasses rest on the crown of his head, pushed up into his hair to hold it back off his face. Staring at nothing much, he's chewing up his bottom lip until he feels the familiar burn of your eyes on him. Looks your way.
It's curious, how looking at you halts his body from its self-soothing actions. He no longer nibbles on his lip. His tightly balled first eases.
"What do you think, Kookie?" Claudia drawls, drawing his attention back to the group. "You coming tonight?"
"Hm?" He questions, eyes pulling away from you. He begins to rub his thumb over his knuckles again. "Sorry, was just looking at the menu board. What are we talking about?"
"Party at the Conservatory," Jimin says from across the table. Though he's the one sitting beside Claudia, everyone knows Jungkook is the one that she's really interested in. Has been since their first day of college. "First of the semester. It's one of their birthdays. Reckon it'll be a big one."
On campus, but close enough to the boundaries that it's never infringed upon by security or university officials, the Conservatory isn't what it seems. A boarding house for the creme-de-la-creme of the Botany and Conservation PhD students, it's surrounded by land. Has rows upon rows of greenhouses for their projects.
Of the few times you've been there, you've always thought it was like a maze. The perfect place to get lost. The perfect place to get found, too.
Unfortunately for the PhD students, the house custodian took on the role for one thing and one thing only: to throw the biggest ragers on campus. Knows fuck all about growing anything that isn't illegal. Only managed to get the role, 'cause like the rest of The Untouchables, his dad works high up in the college. He's a few years older than them. Belongs to a different generation of campus royalty, but is keen on making sure his legacy remains.
After all, there ain't no party like a Jackson Wang party.
Namjoon—one of the Botanists and the birthday boy himself—has started padlocking the greenhouses.
Another one of them—Yoongi—minored in mechanical engineering. Has a coin-operated lock on his bathroom door. Makes enough money from a single Jackson Wang party to sustain himself for an entire month.
Hoseok and Jin, the remaining two, are just as messy as Jackson. Have only started PhDs because they don't know what else to do and don't want their youth to abruptly end. Live for the parties; survive for the studying.
"Now, who's told you that?" Jungkook smiles, as if the prospect of showing up at the Conservatory doesn't make him feel a little bit sick. "Jackson?"
"Obviously."
"Well, of course he's gonna tell you it'll be big," Jungkook laughs. "Wants to rope as many of you fuckers in as he can."
"And it works every time," Jimin smirks back. "If everyone thinks it'll be a rager, everyone will want to go. He's a marketing genius, if you ask me."
Jungkook rolls his eyes. Is fond in how he interacts with his friends. Has grown up with most of them. Whether or not they're everyones cup of tea is debatable, but they're his people.
And yet he finds himself glancing back over to the counter. You're not there anymore. Are out back, he assumes. Knows the layout, now. Where the walk-in freezer is. The little nook that you sit in during your break. He doubts any of his friends have ever been in a commercial kitchen, let alone one at a place like this.
While yes, his friends have only ever been good to him, he knows that it isn't the case for everyone they interact with. Is well aware that his friends would be confused beyond belief if they ever found out he knows how to click through the Diner's cash register and find the discount section. Would be even more perplexed if they were to see his initials hidden in one of the codes.
But summer was lonely.
Or at least it was.
Lonely, until it wasn't. Isolating, until he sought solace in someone he can't even bring himself to speak to in front of his friends.
Casting his eyes back down to the table, well aware that he's got no reason to feel as cut up as he does, he fakes a laugh. Looks up again at his friends with a grin so sincere that they'd never guess the way it feels like his heart is in his throat. "Alright. You're on. What time?"
The conversation dissolves into plans—what to wear, what drink to take.
After a summer apart, Jungkook thought it would be nice to be with his friends again. Thought he'd be excited; that he'd welcome them all back with open arms. Ask them about their summers, and lament his time spent here.
When Jimin asks him why he didn't go to the Italian villa his parents normally insist they spend the summer at, Jungkook shrugs.
"Dad has some stuff to sort out, so it was better to stay here," he says, minimising the reality of what really happened. Even you don't know for certain. All you know is that his father did something incredibly immoral, to the point where Jungkook can't even stand to look at him.
Is why he spent all those nights in the diner.
Was confusing at first. He was always angry. Always frowning. Always ordering black coffees and nothing else, huddled up in the corner booth, away from the world.
But with summer comes monsoons, and with monsoons come terrible conditions for walking home.
He expected you to say no when he offered you a ride. You expected to say no, too—but then a please and thank you had escaped your lips.
A routine grew. Habits formed.
Curious little thing, habits are. 21 days. That's all the time they take to develop.
Jungkook spent 63 days of summer with you in varying capacities. Enough time to learn a habit three times over.
The one that haunts him most is how it felt to have your hand beneath his on his gear stick. Finds the absence of you when he drives unbearable. Knows he's got no one to blame but himself; not just for creating distance, but also for minimising it in the first place.
He's the one who offered you a lift. He's the one who messaged you on your days off to see if you fancied going for a drive. He's the one who didn't turn the AC on just to get you shaking your jacket off your shoulders.
And he's the one that drove you out to the coast one evening for no other reason than wanting to hear the waves. He's the one who opened up to you about his family. He's the one that made things more than what they were.
Had walked along the shore with you, too scared to hold your hand beneath the lunar light. Opted for playful banter instead, nudging you into the lapping waves.
But the waves got bigger, and Jungkook's unbridled desire to have you close did just the same. Like always, he took things too far. Drenched in sea water, you'd laughed with him for the entire ride home.
Invited him in. Said, "The salt will ruin your clothes. We should wash them."
"Hand wash only," he'd said, pinging his damp t-shirt against his chest. It stuck to him in such a way you learned all of his edges before you ever saw him naked—not like there was much time between these two instances. Ended up in your shower with him, clothes beneath your feet, the excuse of hand washing disregarded the second he had you naked.
You learned three things about Jungkook in that shower.
The first is that he giggles. Lips on yours, hands clutching your jaw, whenever the water was a little too intrusive, he'd separate with a laugh. Would kiss you again, a smile still on his face. Would pretend as if he wasn't giggling.
But he was, and it was lovely.
The second was that he's the type to lean his head forward, not tip it back. With his hands pressed to the shower tiles behind you as your fingers wrapped around his thick shaft, he let his head dip to his chest. Gave him ample opportunity to press kisses to the top of your head—or at least it did until you got to your knees and started taking his hard cock in your mouth.
"Shit," he had husked. Whined. Praised. "Fuck. You're so fuckin' good at that."
It was around then that you became aware he was a head pusher, too.
Almost as if he was saving the best until last, the third thing you learned was how he likes to cum; in your sheets, cock buried in your pussy, your hands clasped above your head. Missionary, 'cause he likes to kiss you through it. In your bed, 'cause he likes losing himself in everything you are. Prefers finishing inside you, but you refuse to fuck him without a condom so he never gets exactly what he wants. It's close enough, though.
Spent weeks—months—laying unfair claim to your body, and now he can't bring himself to look in your direction. It infuriates you.
But more than anything else, it embarrasses you.
Even your reflection laughs at you. Cackles 'told you so' every time you look in the mirror.
You always wondered why you never heard much about Jungkook's hook ups around campus. Everyone knows about Jimin and how his cock has been perpetually wet since the first day of freshers week, but there's always been a secrecy when it comes to Jungkook.
It's something you've teased him about; in your sheets, bodies clammy, his heart beating so fast in his chest you'd been forgiven for thinking he'd just run a marathon.
"When do I have to sign it?" You had giggled.
"Sign what?" He'd husked, voice all wispy and fucked out.
"The NDA," you'd replied as if it was obvious. "It's been, like, what? A month? Surely it's about time you made sure I kept my mouth shut like all your other girls do?"
On your front, your arms were folded over his chest, and he was gently rearranging the pretty little updo he'd made a mess of. Though he was looking at his hands as he replied, you kept your eyes on his. Studied his sincerity.
"Reason you don't hear about other girls is 'cause there aren't any."
A smile twitched at the corner of your lips, but you didn't let it shine for him.
"Sure."
There was a small jerk to his torso as a breathy smirk formed on his face.
"You think I can't be trusted?"
"I think it's foolish to trust any man."
His deep, dark eyes sank down to focus on yours. Offered you all the sincerity you'd be searching for, and more.
"That's all I am, huh?" He'd challenged you. "Just another one of your men?"
"One of the many," you'd teased just to rile him up a little.
"Ah," he'd played along. "So that's why I always have to wear a condom?"
With a saccharine smirk on your lips, you'd gotten back in position, legs straddled over his hips. Had kissed him. Whispered, "No. That's just because I know it annoys you."
"You annoy me all the time," he'd mumbled into your lips, hands gripping your waist to get you grinding against his still sensitive cock. Barely fifteen minutes since he'd last finished, there was no way he was ready to go again.
"Hm?" You'd hummed against his kisses, then began to work your way down his neck in a way that always got him a little moany. "If I'm so annoying, why are you getting hard again, baby?"
"You can be annoying and hot," he told you as he desperately tried to not let his insatiable need for you show.
"Is that how you like your girls?" You'd ribbed once more, just to piss him off a little. It was never serious. Never something you would actually fret over.
Perhaps you should have done, but then he told you with a little too much candour, "No. It's how I like my girl. Singular."
Loose lips sink ships, and Jungkook was one iceberg away from greeting the ocean floor. Closing his lips back down on yours, he was making sure you were just as insatiable for him as he was for you. He didn't cum again that evening, even if you did more times than you cared to count.
A greedy lover, is Jeon Jungkook. Edacious.
And so you understand, now, why the girls he gets entangled with stay silent; how the hoaxes he plays leave them utterly hysterical. They're subject to silence, because who would possibly believe all those sweet little lies he tells? How mad would they be considered if they tried to convince anyone he has a heart?
His brazen lack of humanity is proven when he comes to pay for the table. Any of them could have done it. Yet he elects to stand in front of your till and wait for you to serve him.
Have you not served him enough?
You refuse to utter a single word in his direction. Don't look at him, don't give him any satisfaction. He can read it for himself, he can pay, and he can fuck off.
"Keep the change," he mumbles tossing down the bills—but like fuck are you gonna keep anything he gives you.
He begins to walk away, a little shrunken in his stature.
"Excuse me, sir."
Stopping dead in his tracks, Jungkook is perplexed to hear you address him so coldly.
"Your change," you say, holding a closed hand out for him to hold his own hand beneath. He doesn't want to cause a scene. Obliges. Is surprised when notes, not coins, fall into his palm.
More specifically, notes folded into the shape of flowers. His handiwork, he's certain. Was something he used to do in the early hours of your late night diner shifts. If he said something a little mean, or bickered with you a little too hard, he'd fold his notes up like posies and give them to you as a remedy.
Never used those notes to buy you real flowers, mind you.
Back when things were still easy, you pulled him up on it. Told him that you'd be far easier to seduce with a little wooing. He'd told you that you were easy to seduce regardless.
You didn't speak to him for the rest of your shift.
Ended it with fourteen folded bills in the shape of a bouquet, and when the backseat windows of his car had a thick veil of condensation coating them that same evening, he'd drawn you flowers on them.
"No point in flowers," he'd told you. "They just wither up and die."
Which is funny, 'cause it kinda looks like Jungkook is doing that very same thing right in this moment. He goes to speak, but nothing comes out.
Disappointing, you think, then realise of course he is. Has done nothing but disappoint you.
You smile. Jungkook looks like he wants to cry. Good.
"Don't let the door hit you on the way out."
21 repetitions. That's how many times it takes to form a habit. You know this.
You also know that 90 days of this repetition will form a habit to last a lifetime.
As you hook up your apron, and free your hair of the ribbon that had been tightly wrapped around your ponytail, you know these are 'lifetime' habits. Apron, then ponytail. Always.
But when you say goodbye to Maria, and ask if she'll be at home this evening, you find yourself leaning into a recently formed habit. It's not anything particularly noteworthy. Not something anyone would notice.
Well, not anyone who matters. You don't think Jungkook counts as someone who matters, anymore.
But he'd noticed; how you'd started glancing across to his parking spot whenever you clocked out. Had teased you for it. Asked you if it was the highlight of your day, seeing him there, as if it wasn't the highlight of his.
You should have known the playful banter when he told you not to get used to it wasn't really banter at all.
Yet here you are, glancing across to his parking spot only to see it empty.
It's not even like it's his spot. Whenever he's with his friends, they walk. Live right on campus, so don't need to drive, and if they do, they'll park right by the doors.
In the height of summer, when the lot was empty and Jungkook wasn't driving for his sake but for yours, he liked to park in the far corner. Said dumb shit about not wanting any weirdos scratching it. Whined and moaned whenever someone performed the very human act of parking next to the only other car in an empty parking lot.
"So many spaces!" He'd blather on. Would speak with his hands. Get deliberately more animated, 'cause it always made you laugh. "And they choose here?!"
The memories make you smile, until the yellow headlights of another car flood into the parking lot. They reveal what's right in front of you; a crowd of cars and not a single one of them you care for.
It's not like you cared for Jungkook, either. Was just something to pass the time when the streets were quiet and his head was loud.
In turn, you gave him quiet, and he made your summer feel loud.
But the leaves are turning brown and the water in the roadside puddles is becoming stale. The seasons have changed and so has the nature of your interactions. It's fine. You don't care. Really. Couldn't think of anyone you'd want to hang around less. Would rather die than associate with The Untouchables.
You never needed a lift, not really. Especially not when it always took you an hour to get home 'cause Jungkook just wanted to keep on driving.
Grumbling to yourself just to try and divert your mind from thoughts of him, your heart almost skips a beat when your phone vibrates in your pocket. For a second, you wonder if it could be him.
Where you at? It could read. I'm here.
Or maybe, I miss you.
I can't sleep without you.
This is so stupid. Can I come over?
It won't say of those things and you damn well know it.
Your text thread is dormant. The last message is from you, two weeks prior.
You: you not coming in tonight?
You: you'll be pleased to know my fairy godmother turned a pumpkin into a carriage to make sure i got home safe x
You: ... at least let me know if ur alive?
Rolling your eyes at how mortifying your desperation feels, the scowl that settles into your expression is comical. It's like you're fighting with the wind that's threading itself through your hair.
Pulling your phone out, the scowl only intensifies.
Jackass Wang: party tonight
You: so????
One thing about Jackson is that he's not gonna leave anyone on read, especially when he's trying to drum up attendees for his parties.
Jackass Wang: so i haven't seen you around for a while, montgomery
"Fuckin' Montgomery," you mutter at the nickname.
It's the one that all of Jungkook's friends seem to refer to you as, as if you don't have a personality outside of your job.
Still, at least Jackson is a little bit inventive with it. Calls you Monts. Monty, Monstera Plant, Monte Carlo, and god knows what else. If it starts with 'Mon,' he's found a way to end it with a cheeky smirk and smug anticipatory look in your direction, as he awaits your reaction.
You: i like it better when i don't see you x
Jackass Wang: you know that isn't true. loverboy will be there. come with him. or don't. i don't care. you can bring your little friends with you.
You: they'd rather die :) x
Jackass Wang: y'know, you're replying an awful lot for a girl who's not interested ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
You: you just can't take no for an answer
Jackass Wang: yes i can - but you haven't said no yet. c'mon. loverboy has been moping around all week. i can't be arsed with his mardy ass energy all evening.
You: so don't invite him???? i don't see why it's my problem?????
The fact that you don't need clarification of who Jackson means is proof enough that perhaps Jackson's onto something.
Jackass Wang: conservatory any time after 9. be there or be square montgomery. or don't be. i'm sure loverboy can get his dick wet without you, but it's easier for everyone if he doesn't.
You: charming x
Jackass Wang: it's why the ladies love me.
You: all of them except this one, apparently. have a nice party. stay away from the drugs.
Jackass Wang: can't be tamed, monte carlo. nor can loverboy. come keep him company.
The block button towards the top of your message thread looks incredibly tempting. Just a single click and you'll never have to deal with Jackson Wang and his dumb parties ever again.
Part of you can't believe you've ever been associated with them, as it is.
Summer defied the conventions of the life you've built for yourself. You weren't the person you thought you were.
Kicking off your shoes when you arrive home, the door slams shut behind you. A gentle voice calls through to check if it's you.
"Maria's still working," you say as you walk into the kitchen, tossing your bag down on the floor and your phone on the counter.
Taehyung, your best friend since your first week at college, is cooking himself dinner, but offers you a spoon of the tomato sauce he's making. Humming as you taste it, you're amazed by how he manages to make even the simplest thing delicious.
"S'good. What is that? Cumin?"
Nodding, he smiles. "A little paprika, too. You want some?"
His hair is dishevelled, blonde and sunkissed from the sweltering summer skies. He always looks great with a tan; radiant and full of youth.
Shaking your head, you really don't have an appetite. "Think I'm gonna have an early night."
He's about to reply when your phone buzzes. Both of you glance down. Your skin feels red hot, and when Taehyung almost chokes on the spoonful of sauce he's just tried, he's all sorts of confused.
"Why the fuck is Jackson Wang messaging you?"
"Hmm?" You hum as if you have no idea what he's talking about. Realise from the look on his face that he doesn't buy it for a second. "Oh! That Jackson Wang. Think he sent a text to his entire contact list. Something about a party."
"No," Taehyung asserts. "Absolutely not. You cannot bullshit out of this one."
"It's not bullshit," you whine as you pretend to look in the fridge for something to drink. Settle on a beer left by one of Taehyung's friends at a party held last semester. It wasn't quite a Jackson Wang level party, but nothing ever is. "He's just trying to drum up numbers for his stupid party tonight."
Taehyung is many things, but stupid he is not. Though he's blonde (thanks to a bottle of bleach and a few too many jack and cokes), he bends all the stereotypes. His tuition is covered by a scholarship for academic excellence.
"Don't give me that bull."
"It's not bull!"
"So you're telling me, out of everyone at our college, the Jackson Wang is texting you to make up numbers for his party?"
"Yes!" you exclaim, partially a little offended at it being such an unfathomable idea. "And he said you can come too, so maybe you're the one he's really after!"
His expression is flat. You are paper thin.
He's known you long enough to know when you're giving him half-truths.
He also knows you spent the summer alone in this house, and that there's a new toothbrush in the bathroom next to yours.
"You're hooking up with him, aren't you?"
"No!"
Out of everyone to be accused of sleeping with, Jackson Wang is, like, the worst of the worst. He's handsome, sure, but he's also slept with pretty much every girl on campus. Is a teenage boy in a grown adult's body. You'd rather not fornicate with a guy who still finds 'your mum' jokes funny.
Taehyung gasps at your immediate denial. "You are!"
"I'm not!"
"All that talk about saving it for someone special, and you mean to tell me you went and lost it to Jackson fuckin' Wang?!"
Everything about this conversation is making you want to punch yourself in the face. The topic of sex, and just why you've never gotten around to it, has dominated many conversations around this dining table. If you have to discuss it again, you might move out.
"Oh my God," you whine, throwing your head back. "We are not having this conversation."
"Yes, we are."
"No, we're not, because I didn't lose my virginity to Jackson Wang!" You stress. The more you think about it, the more offended you are.
"To Jackson Wang," Taehyung echoes, as he begins to join invisible dots. "But you did lose it to someone."
"No," you insist, but Taehyung refuses to buy it. Knows you too damn well.
He always thought he'd know when you lost it. That it'd be a boy you'd been dating. Committed to. Someone good. Someone worthy. Not someone you keep in the shadows.
"There's something you're not telling me," he frowns. "What the fuck happened this summer?"
With a sigh so deep it's a miracle you're still breathing, you relent. Never signed one of those NDA's you're convinced Jungkook must hand out like candy, as if he's some sort of celebrity and not just some college reprobate.
"Jungkook," you feebly admit. Take a sip on your beer. Don't look at Taheyung, 'cause you're afraid to see his reaction. "Wasn't Jackson. Was Jungkook."
You tell Taehyung everything. How Jungkook never knew you were a virgin. How he still doesn't. How you blame yourself for your hurt, but him for not getting you any band aids to help deal with it; for not kissing you better when he was the one to cause you such hurt in the first place.
As you recite you memories, you play a game against yourself: take a sip every time you want to cry.
By the time you've told Taehyung the nitty-gritty truth, the bottle of wine that had been in the fridge is finished, as well as your beer.
"I can't believe this," Taehyung says for what feels like the billionth time.
There's a certain shame that comes with Taehyung's confusion.
Embarrassment, like the way Jungkook would cringe at himself whenever he stumbled on his words, or the way you'd covered your reddening cheeks with your hands when he teased you for looking at him in the way you did.
Remorse of time wasted before him, and time wasted with him.
Regret of the things you did and the things he didn't.
It's all very confusing. Exhausting. If you were to really think about it, you'd spend a week in bed with a box of tissues. Would ask Taehyung why he didn't warn you that a heart could feel this horrid.
But he did, and you damn well know it.
Shrugging, you reach for the bottle and split the final few glugs between your glasses.
"We were just bored," you play it off. "Had nothing better to do. No one better to do."
But Taehyung shakes his head. "You don't have to do that, yanno. Pretend like it didn't matter. It's okay that it did. Even if he is a prick, and even if he's no better than the rest of them. It's okay that it hurts."
You're silent when he says this.
Despite your teasing, you never really thought Jungkook was much of a player.
But his friends are back now, and you've been relegated to the sidelines. Doesn't matter if he spent weeks—months—playing in no field but yours. Greener pastures have presumably sprouted. Your turf is wrecked from his carelessness, and he's left you to heal yourself while he goes and wrecks another.
Whoever he was pretending to be in the summer isn't who he is now that his friends are back—but when they're laughing and joking in the basement of the Conservatory that evening, Jungkook knows which version of himself he prefers.
"You need to get laid," Jimin tells Jungkook with a laugh. "Never seen a man look so bloody miserable at a party."
Of all the things Jungkook needs, getting laid is not one of them. In fact, he thinks it would be a very sensible idea if he never got laid again. Sex is messy. People get all emotional over it.
Or more so, he gets all emotional over it.
Had never been the type to, before. Always thought it was something that just happened to other people. Not to him.
He pushes the thoughts aside. Feels a little sick. Shrugs off Jimin's remark.
"If I wanted to get laid, I would get laid."
"So why don't you? Will do us all a favour. Claudia's been—"
"I couldn't give a fuck," Jungkook interrupts Jimin. "I'm not interested."
He never has been. Wants nothing to do with this university, and the men that run it, and so would never date one of their daughters.
They're all corrupt. Every last one of them. All cheat on their wives. All throw their families under the bus for their own selfish exploits. His own father's affair has proven this to him.
Jungkook pities his friends. Just because their parents haven't fucked up yet, doesn't mean they won't.
"Oi, Loverboy," Jackson calls from across the room, breaking the tension only to replace it with a headache for Jungkook. "Where's your little girlfriend? I told her to come."
"Who?" Jimin chirps.
Jungkook grates his jaw. Is deadly serious when he says, "Leave it, Jackson."
"Trouble in paradise for our lovebirds, huh?"
"I said leave it."
"Who the fuck is he talking about?" Jimin continues to ask, incredibly curious about this turn of events. Leave town for a couple of months, he thinks, and everything changes.
"No one."
"That one from the diner," Jackson just continues fuckin' talking. Jungkook wants to scream. "The one with a stick up her ass—"
"Jackson, cut it out," Jungkook snaps. "She's no one. Just fuckin' leave it."
"You ashamed, huh, Loverboy?" Jackson berates him a little bit. He isn't trying to be a dick, but he thinks Jungkook is acting like a tool. Jackson is no saint, but at least he doesn't ever pretend to be something he's not. "Poor girl. Wear her like your favourite pair of shoes all summer and then throw her to the trash when your friends come back? I thought better of you. So did she, probably. Shame."
Of all the people Jungkook ever expected to receive lessons in morality from, Jackson Wang was not the one. He parades himself around the Conservatory like Hugh Hefner reincarnated, his class attributed to money and not behaviours.
"The fuck have you been doing this summer, Kook?" Jimin laughs, utterly dumbfounded by his reactions.
They've all had their fair share of less than conventional lovers. If Jungkook has been fucking around with a girl from the Diner, then so what? Who cares?
"Nothing," Jungkook snaps.
It's not that he's ashamed.
It's that you're separate.
When he's with you, all of this—the bullshit of college life and calamity of his family falling apart—dissolves into nothingness. He doesn't have to think. Finds himself at ease.
If you were to ever become a part of his life—his real one, not the one he got so used to living in with you over the summer—then it'd all change.
He doesn't want that.
He wants you to be a safe haven.
A refuge point can't be in the midst of a fire, though. He has to keep you away. At arms length.
But god damn, he wishes you would come and put out his fire. He's struggling. Finds existing without you so fucking hard. Doesn't know at which point he became so dependent, but knows his oxygen is running low.
He's suffocating. Isn't sure how much longer he can keep this up.
"Yeah, sure seems like nothing," Jimin smirks with a shake of his head as Jungkook storms off to get some much needed air. "Oi, Jackson, what was that all about?"
With a shrug, and yet another girl on his arm, Jackson grins. Puts on a pathetic little voice to mimic Jungkook's tantrum. "Fink baby boy has a wittle cwush."
"Girl from the diner?" Jimin implores, still smirking at Jackson's dumb humour. "Which one?"
"You really have to ask?"
For all of his mystery, Jungkook has never been a man of subtleties. His eyes give him away.
They always have done.
When he was looking at the menu board earlier that day? It was obvious.
Before college broke up for summer, and how Jungkook would always cast his eyes down to his hands whenever you, specifically, came to take their order? It was obvious.
How Jungkook would always make sure he was on the side of the booth that gave him ample opportunity to steal glances of you? It was so fucking obvious.
Sometimes he'd laugh at the slightly sarcastic remarks you gave Claudia whenever she would ask irritating questions about the menu.
When they were deciding where to eat, Jungkook would suggest the Montgomery's Diner, always.
So, no, Jimin doesn't really have to ask.
"Stupid prick," he sighs, sipping on his beer. Loves Jungkook to absolute death, but will never understand him. Figures that maybe you do. Worries that Jungkook is about to wreck it all. He calls after Jackson, "She here tonight?"
"Invited her," he calls back. "But she's got an attitude problem to rival his. Fuck knows if she's around. You'll feel her ice before you see her."
Which is funny, because the lingering summer heat sticks to your skin as you nervously meander up a driveway you know all too well.
The Conservatory is decidedly not a conservatory.
It's a complex. A maze of buildings, and greenhouses, and fuck knows what else. You've no interest in gardening, but if excelling at it meant living somewhere like this, maybe you'd consider taking it up as a hobby.
The buildings are mostly redbrick, with large windows, and even larger doors. It's the kind of place you'd imagine a Duke of some far away land prancing about in. Playing croquet, or secretly courting a lowly village girl that his parents will never approve of.
The irony isn't lost on you.
"Wait, how do I look?" Taehyung asks for what feels like the hundredth time. "Not too dressy?"
"You're wearing a waistcoat," you reply, face twisted in affectionate condemnation. He looks great, but he also does look far too dressy. It's his 'look', though, and one that'll get him attention, both good and bad.
If Kim Taehyung walked around with the arrogance his handsome face warranted him with, he'd be the heartthrob of the campus. You think even Claudia would want a slice of him—and given his distaste for the elite yet pining desire to be on their level, it'd be quite the complex pairing.
All of the other men here are in t-shirts, but Taehyung has never been like other men. It's part of the reason you like him so much.
One thing, however, you don't like about Taehyung is his domineering need to 'fix' things. It comes from a place of love, and he only ever does it because he cares, but it's not always in your best interest.
When he told you to go and get changed out of your work uniform, you thought he was planning on taking you to a bar. That you'd be drowning your sorrows over wine you can't afford.
You would never agree to go to the Conservatory. Not now.
Which is why he didn't tell you of his plan.
Instead, he ordered a cab and didn't give you the chance to protest. You were already halfway there by the time you realised.
"Why don't we just go home?" You whine, tugging on his arm as you stand by the gate that leads through the gardens—the same ones you used to traipse around in with Jungkook. "We don't need to be here."
"Uh-uh," he shakes his head, firmly standing his ground. "I've avoided this place for two years, and the second my back is turned it becomes your new home. The least you could do is invite me round for dinner."
"It's not my new home—"
"MONTGOMERY!"
The voice of Jackson Wang yelling across the front lawn makes you want to shrivel up and die. Sink down into the ground. You'd make great compost for the botanists.
"Y'know, you and Loverboy really need to stop lying so much," he says with an incredibly intoxicated grin as he lumbers towards you. You'll never admit it, but part of you is pleased to see him. "First you saying you weren't coming, then him telling everyone nothing happened between you. Both as bad as one another."
Nothing happened between you.
It doesn't surprise you, but it does sting. And it also confuses you. Why on earth would you be a topic of conversation? The people here know you as Montgomery. The girl from the diner. You're nothing but a background character to them.
"What did he say?" You ask, disregarding everything else, not even bothering to introduce Taehyung. He's finding all of this incredibly bewildering.
"Oh, Jimin was grilling him," Jackson waves his hands around, disregarding it. "Kept saying you were no one. Refused to admit that he'd practically tied his laces with yours for the whole summer. Don't you worry, though, Monte Carlo. I had your back. Set the record straight."
Jackson Wang having your back isn't something you ever expected to happen.
Jeon Jungkook's absolute denial of your clandestine affaire de cœur is, disappointingly, something you expected.
It doesn't mean that it comes without hurt. If anything, it's far more visceral, for you only have yourself to blame. These wounds are self-inflicted, even if they're carved with a knife Jungkook crafted out of silly affirmations he never should have made.
"Where is he?" You ask, cold in your tone.
Jackson shrugs. "Try the basement. S'where I last saw him."
As Jackson saunters off to find another poor partygoer to mildly offend, you're left with a bad taste in your mouth. You've been irritated since you saw Jungkook earlier that day.
How he can just show up at the diner and act like he doesn't even know you, let alone knows what it's like to wake up next to you, is beyond insulting.
"C'mon," Taehyung urges you along. "I need a drink, and you could use three."
Conversely, you think you need an entire bottle.
A bottle of what, you don't care. Just something strong. Anything other than the shitty, overpriced whisky Jungkook always insisted on drinking.
"Fine. But we're not going to the basement."
It's perplexing to walk the halls of the Conservatory without Jungkook; to pass by strangers who have no idea who you are, but who know and admire him as if he's some sort of Hollywood celebrity.
They don't know him like you do. Don't know what it feels like to have his hand around their throat, or his fingers gently intertwined with theirs. They've never heard him laugh like you have.
And yet when you're a few drinks deep, and on the verge of calling a cab to go home, you hear that laugh again and wonder how he can bear to be happy right now.
Glancing up, his face is unreadable. The lights are dim, and the shadows obscure the painful furrowing of his brows. He looks just the same as he did back in the diner earlier that day. Perplexed. In pain. Somehow perfectly fine, too.
The group he's in is small. Some of them you know, some of them you don't.
Claudia sits across from him on the lap of some other guy, yet she doesn't take her eyes off Jungkook. She laughs a little harder at his jokes. Directs questions to him. Flirts with other people in front of him to no avail.
Not even now, after summer when her skin is sunkissed and her radiance is rejuvenated, can she keep his attention.
In fact, none of them can once he spots you from across the room. The big lights are off, fairy lights strung up, and a sunset lamp pours a clementine hue over you.
Summer becomes you, he thinks—adores—from afar.
The year is a body, and you're eternally condemned to its heart. That's where he'll keep you. Where you belong.
Had it been spring—the brain of the year—when he'd been hauled up in that diner, he never would have let things get as far as they did.
Had it been winter—the cunt of the year, for lack of a better term—he would have let it get that far, and he wouldn't have felt bad about it, either.
But Autumn is drawing close. The gut. The time to trust his intuition, and he damn well knows it.
A hand wraps itself around your wrist, dragging you away from his car crash eyes. Jungkook slips into the dull shadows of the room, right where he belongs. Was foolish of you to ever think otherwise.
"Do you mind?" you snap, but let yourself be dragged away regardless. Part of you hopes it'll make Jungkook do something. You're not sure what. Just something.
The man who is leading you astray is familiar. Recognisable. Park Jimin.
Though he's not aggressive, he definitely isn't gentle as he leads you out to the gardens. Lets go of your wrist by an overgrown shrub just beyond the benches that are made for drunken DMC's. He isn't after one of them. Wants the facts.
"Cut the bullshit," he says.
"No hello?" You chirp. "Nice to see you? Or better yet, an introduction?"
"You know who I am," Jimin tells you, expression flat. You hate that the arrogant fucker is right. "But I know fuck all about you, and apparently you're the reason Jungkook is walking around like death warmed up. So cut the bull. What happened?"
Frankly it's none of Jimin's business. Even if he's done you wrong, Jungkook trusted you. You're not gonna throw that back in his face and air his dirty laundry—especially not considering that Jimin is Jungkook's friend. If Jungkook wanted him to know, he'd have told him.
"Nothing," you tell him. "Barely even know him."
Jimin sighs. Jackson was right. There's a reason why you and Jungkook got along so well. Are both insufferable.
Glancing behind you, Jimin raises his brows.
You turn to face his line of vision, and fail to hide your surprise when you see Jungkook by the back door. Like a deer in headlights, he's frozen in place, his darling bambi eyes so startled he almost looks scared.
"So if you barely know him," Jimin continues as you and Jungkook stare one another out. "Why the fuck is he looking at you like he's seen a ghost?"
It takes a second or so, but you manage to pull your gaze away. Turn back to face Jimin. Shrug. Play dumb.
"Mistaken identity."
"Oh, I get it," Jimin smirks, knowing you aren't gonna give him an easy way out. Needs to bamboozle answers out of you. "You both went to the same bullshitting classes over summer? Is that it?"
You're surprised to find yourself smiling. Surprised that you find humour in Jimin's words. Surprised that you aren't rolling your eyes.
He's always been the Untouchable that has annoyed you the most. Is too loud. Laughs at the most obnoxious things.
"Top of the class," you reply because it somehow feels okay to joke with him. Perhaps spending so much time with Jungkook has lowered you Park Jimin-related intolerance. Not cured it, by any means, but definitely made it easier to manage.
"Academic rivals," Jimin supposes, realising that maybe there's a little more to you than he's ever given you credit for. "That's pretty hot."
"He seemed to think so," you lament, knowing that you're revealing a far more truthful rendition of your time spent with Jungkook. Or at least, admitting that time was spent together.
With a sigh, you walk a little further into the garden. Cross your arms. Look back over your shoulder to the door, only to find Jungkook is gone. It shouldn't upset you like it does, but you find your lips pressing together in a small pout.
"Look," Jimin says, exhaling a breath so deep you're sure his lungs must be empty. He comes to stand beside you, looking across the vast expanse of the gardens. "I'm not asking for your life story. If you don't give a shit about Kook, then that's fine, I'll leave you alone. But he's my best friend, and I've never seen him like this."
Glancing at Jimin, there's a taut discomfort on your face. Guilt, almost—but you've not done anything wrong. It's on him. He's the one who chose for things to be this way.
"I give a shit," you quietly admit as you look back out towards the garden, then sigh out a pitiful laugh. "You know him. You know what he's like. Of course I give a shit."
Quite honestly you think it's impossible to not fall for Jungkook. He's everything you're hardwired to appreciate: hardworking, charming, incredibly funny. You lost count of how many nights dissolved into laughter with him. Had never known your cheeks to hurt so much.
He was gentle, too. Stroked his thumbs against your cheeks just as often as he made them ache.
It's your heart that's aching now, and he's not around to soothe your woes.
Back inside, Jungkook feels so viscerally unwell that he thinks he might be sick. Or maybe he's actually dying. One of the two.
This is everything he didn't want. You were supposed to be separate. Supposed to be a sanctuary away from this all.
You're in the thick of it, now. Jimin is grilling you, and Jungkook doesn't know what to do. It's too much. All of it. The party, the people, the fact that you look at him with ice in your eyes when he knows damn well they used to harbour the warmest of fires.
Beelining for the basement, he kind of hopes the ground will swallow him up. Stop him from making the bad decisions he seems to find so god damn irresistible.
As he yanks open the small fridge at the back of the basement, Jungkook doesn't care what he drinks. Just needs something to help soothe his fragile mine; to make him feel better, 'cause lord knows you won't.
Reaching for a beer, he doesn't ask around to see if it belongs to anyone. Finders keepers. He's an Untouchable. This place is basically his by birthright. No one is gonna argue against him.
But Kim Taehyung isn't just anyone.
"So, when you apologise for being a gargantuan pillock, are you planning on also trying to win her over? Or will you just clean your conscience and wipe yourself clean of her, too?"
Jungkook's jaw tenses as his teeth grit together. "Don't know what you're on about."
"Had a girl in tears at my dinner table earlier tonight," Taehyung exaggerates. Just wants Jungkook to feel as awful as he knows you do. "Your friends might not give a shit about your well-being, but I give a shit about mine."
And for some reason, this irks Jungkook. He gives a shit about you. Cares so much he's been torturing himself by staying away. Thinks it's better for you both.
If it truly was, neither of you would be feeling so gut-wrenchingly awful.
He knows you're angry. You've made that perfectly clear.
But he also knows you do cry when you're frustrated. Was a lesson learned when you were stressed over the diner roof leaking one night during the monsoons when no one else was in to help you fix it.
It was the first night he offered you a lift home. Had taken pity on you. Had also liaised with the college maintenance guy to check it out the next day, even if the diner wasn't technically part of campus.
Because Jungkook does give a shit about your well-being, and he refutes the claim that he doesn't.
"So what? You here to tell me to stay away?" Jungkook scoffs as he prizes off the cap of the bottle. Swigs down a sip. Then another, 'cause he's not wankered enough for this.
"I'm here to tell you that you're an asshole," Taehyung asserts. "She didn't deserve to be used by you for the summer and then tossed to the trash just because semesters starting up again."
The roll of Jungkook's eyes is so weighted that it almost feels as if they'll get lodged in the back of his skull. The last time they'd rolled that deep was in bed with you. Back then it was because his body was so divinely out of sync that his muscles couldn't keep up with his actions. This time, pleasure is the furthest thing away from how he's feeling.
"You want me nowhere near her, but the fact I'm staying away makes me an asshole?" Jungkook petulantly laughs. "Can't ever fuckin' win, can I?"
"This isn't about winning or losing," Taehyung argues back. "She trusted you."
Jungkook doesn't understand what that has to do with anything. He's not betrayed your trust. Has kept all your secrets. Tried his best to keep you secret, too.
"What was she to you, huh? Some project? A virginity to get under your belt? Something to pass the time—"
"I don't know who you think I am," Jungkook snaps, fed up being accused of something he's not. "But not once did I ever treat her badly, okay? I—" He cuts himself off. Doesn't know how to articulate himself. "We— Look, you just don't get it. You don't know me. I was nothing but fuckin' nice. Okay? And she was nice. And it was nice. And we..." He trails off. Realises what Taehyung said. "The fuck do you mean, 'virginity to get under your belt'?"
It's about now that Taehyung realises he's said too much.
But every cloud has a silver lining.
"Talk to her," Taehyung shrugs as he begins to walk away. "Not me."
He leaves a scowling Jungkook by the fridge. Heads to the stairs, and once he reaches the top, is yanked away by a small but mighty force.
"You," Jimin asserts. "With me. Now."
The sound of three knocks on the bathroom door serve as a signal: let me in.
A panicked text from Taehyung had practically begged you to go to the basement bathroom and wait for him there. Said there was drama that he needed to talk with you about.
And you believed him, 'cause you're a few too many drinks deep and honestly could do with the respite.
Perched up on the countertop by the sink, you reach over and unhook the latch, giving Taehyung the all clear to come on in. Your legs languidly swing and your shoulders are slumped, this party well and truly over for you.
The only reason you're still here is because you know Taehyung's secretly been revelling in his first Conservatory party. You fear he'll want to come every weekend, now.
"You better not have your cock out," a playful voice you know all too well jokes, as the door pushes open. Eyes closed as he enters, he shuts the door behind him. Asks, "Am I safe to open my eyes?"
You're gonna kill Taehyung.
In the most loving but brutal way, you will absolutelymurder him for setting you up like this.
"Safe," you grimace.
Jungkook doesn't open his eyes. In fact, he presses them even tighter together. Frowns. "Jimin isn't in here, is he?"
"We've been bamboozled," you sigh, and as much as he doesn't want to, Jungkook smiles at your choice of words. Tips his head down, and open his eyes. Is a little too scared to look your way, for fear of being greeted with wrath.
"Their days are numbered," Jungkook assures you, quickly glancing across to try and work out how you're feeling.
"My sentiments exactly."
Jungkook goes to speak, but you both notice a grating metallic noise by the door. Immediately, Jungkook presses his hand down on the door handle, but there's absolutely no give. It won't budge
"Jimin," he calls, voice strong and domineering through the wooden panels. Hastily painted white, they're chipped and tarnished; covered in numbers and Instagram handles, rumours and declarations of love. It's not your first time locked in this bathroom with Jungkook, but the last was of your own choice. Had been you turning the lock with a smile and glint in your eyes that had promised him trouble. "Open it up."
"No can do," Jimins smugly sings from beyond the door. "Sort your shit out."
Hopping off the counter, you nudge in front of Jungkook to pound against the door with an open fist. Though he steps back, it's still the closest you've been with him since he left your bedroom a couple weeks ago. Part of you laments the fact he moved away from you. Part of him does, too.
"Tae," you try calling instead, hand banging on the door, but you're met with the exact same response.
"Figure it out," he calls back, but also adds, "And if he's still an insufferable asshole in five minutes time, I'll come let you out."
Despite everything, you laugh at this. Not so much because of Taehyung's words, but because Jungkook's face screws up like an old newspaper.
"What is it with him and calling me an asshole?" Jungkook mutters under his breath with a shake of his head.
The bathroom is small—just a toilet and sink built into a cabinet. There's a mirror covering the back wall over it, and another cabinet above it that you assume is filled with empty bottles and misplaced lipglosses. There's barely even enough room to breathe, although there is enough room to make Jeon Jungkook come undone in the least dignified of ways. You should know.
You wish you didn't.
"He calls you one because you are one," you assure him.
"Excuse me?"
"What?" You scoff, hopping back up on the counter, your eyes on his 'cause you want to watch the way he gets nasty. Wanna remind yourself of how horrible he can be. Replace the memories of him in this bathroom, 'cause in all reality, they're actually really lovely. Nice, even. Warm. Everything you're trying to convince yourself he's not. "Gone deaf as well as turned into a massive prick?"
"Jesus Christ," he says, rolling his eyes, turning back to face the door. Shakes at the handle. "Give it a rest."
"Why?" You ask as if butter wouldn't melt on your tongue. "Would it make life easier for you if I just wasn't around?"
Jungkook knows what you're doing. Has bickered with you enough times to understand your tricks. This is how you start; put words in his mouth that he can't defend against.
And so he doesn't try.
"Yep," he declares, turning to face you. "Way easier. Can you tell your friend I'm an asshole, still? Get us out of this place?"
You recline in defiance. Perched up on the counter next to the basin, your back is against a mirror. Legs crossed, you're in the same white summer dress you wore to your first party at the Conservatory.
Nearly everyone had been away for the summer.
You had spent the evening tucked up together on an armchair meant for one, him in the seat, you perched on the armrest, feet in his lap.
"People will talk, y'know," you'd assured him, elbows on your knees, chin in your palms.
"So let them talk," he'd smirked. "What's there to say? We're just sitting?"
It was strange for him to be seen with you. Even Jackson has been confused, but let it slide 'cause another partygoer is another partygoer. He cared for numbers, not names.
"Dunno," you had teased. "Might start talking about the way you look at me."
"Yeah?" He'd husked as his long fingers wrapped around your wrist. Gently pulled you closer.
"Yeah," you'd whispered, the sound of the music keeping your conversation obscure. "How long has it been that you've been looking at me for? A minute, already? Only one more until you fall in love, according to science."
"You tryna make me fall in love with you, Montgomery?"
"No," you'd innocently chirped, then pulled back. "Why? Were you?"
He'd shrugged. Sipped on his beer. "Guess we'll never know."
Looking at him now, you find it hard to believe he's the same person as he was back then.
"Why would I do that?" You feign naivety. "You're not an asshole?"
He doesn't reply. Knows you're going somewhere with this. Leans his back against the wall opposite you and folds his arms as if to say, go on.
"Assholes fuck people over," you state. "You'd never do that. And you'd definitely never spend your summer in some poor girls sheets and then pretend like she doesn't exist in front of your friends—"
"There is it," he confirms. Knew it was coming. Didn't expect you to actually try and speak about things like adults. So fuckin' childish.
"Oh?" You chirp. "So you're well aware of the fact you're an asshole? Good. Glad we have that one sorted out."
"Yep," he confirms, mouth drawing to a thin line.
The fact he isn't engaging in the fight infuriates you. Just proves he doesn't care. That he fucked you over for sport.
"I'm an asshole," he says, voice full of snark. "You know it, I know it. There's no reason why you should want to be around me. No reason why you should waste your time."
"It's so funny," you gasp in fake surprise. "I was thinking the exact same thing! Isn't it so great that you came to this conclusion after you already wasted months of my life?"
He's silent, now. Cowardly.
"Y'know I always knew you were an obnoxious prick," you say, voice now soberly quiet. "But I didn't think you were this cruel, Kook."
"You know that's not—"
"What?" You interrupt, voice growing louder with each question. "Not true? You woke up in my bed one morning, and then never spoke to me again. Who does that? What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"I don't know!" He shouts, and it surprises you both.
Raking his hand through his hair as he turns away from you, Jungkook wishes he had an answer. Wishes he could explain himself in a way that made sense to you both. Instead, he harshly swallows down his anger. Turns to face you again. Looks like he might cry.
Feels like it, too.
"Why didn't you tell me, huh?" He quietly asks.
"Tell you wha—"
"That you were a virgin."
Your previous thoughts about murdering Taehyung return. Of all the things he could have divulged to Jungkook, and that's what he chose?!
Men, you internally scoff. All fuckin' idiots.
"Hardly relevant, is it?"
"Of course it is," he snaps, turning back to face you. "If I'd have known—"
"You'd have what? Ghosted me sooner? Made it into a fun little competition?"
"I didn't ghost you."
"Gaslighting, too, now are we?" You scoff. "Hold on, let me go and get my bingo card. Things Jungkook does that are absolutely fucking infuriating. Wanna cross it off the list. It's right next to how fast you drive your car, and how much I hate your stupid fucking alarm tone."
"Well good job you never have to hear it again, isn't it?"
"Why not? 'Cause you are ghosting me?"
"No, because this is fuckin' stupid," he says, yanking on the door handle, on the off chance it will finally budge. It doesn't. "You think I'm the devil reincarnated. You don't want me, so why bother with this? This is done. Us. Whatever the fuck it was. You never trusted me in the first place. Would have told me if you did. So just call your friend, tell him I'm an asshole. We're done."
"Oh, well you're two weeks too late for this conversation, don't you think?" you argue back with a cold laugh. "But has it ever occurred to you that my life doesn't revolve around you? That you aren't the reason I'm here? Jackson invited me."
"Ah, so that's what it is?" Jungkook sarcastically exclaims, your insatiable need to fight finally sinking into his skin. "You were just using me, huh? Getting those V-plates off, so you could be ready for him? Is that why you didn't tell me? Huh?"
The mere thought of hooking up with the college's very own Hugh Hefner makes you wanna gag—but if it'll piss off Jungkook, maybe you'll consider it.
"Why would you care if I let him fuck me?" You ask with such pointed anger Jungkook can't help but feel like you're driving knives into his chest. "Do that thing you like with my tongue? You think he'd like my pussy, huh? Maybe I'd let him fuck me raw."
You never let Jungkook go unprotected. Insisted on it each and every time, and he complied even if he was a little pouty about it after you'd been fucking for a while. The trust was there. You were on the pill. He knew he was clean and had told you as such, but it made no difference.
To even suggest you'd let Jackson fuck you raw is laughable.
With a smirk on his lips, Jungkook edges towards you.
Put his hands on your crossed knees. Waits for you to jerk him away—but you don't. Instead, you watch on with salacious confusion. Say nothing. Not even when he uncrosses them, nor when he spreads them apart.
With a hand either side of your head against the mirror, Jungkook stands between your legs.
Looks down at you.
Is so close you can smell his aftershave.
A month ago, in a position like this, you'd have kissed him.
"Hm?" You cock your head. Repeat your question. "You think he'd like my pussy? How long do you think he'd take to cum? Longer than you, I hope."
Jaw tense, Jungkook swallows down the way he wants to curse you out. Closes his eyes. Lets his head dip further, his forehead now resting against the top of your head.
The contact is minimal, but God, you've missed it. Trapped in position by him, you'd forgotten how lovely it was to lose yourself to Jungkook.
"You're not being fair," he whispers. Whines, even.
"Fair?" You laugh, but it's gentle. Matches his tone. "You can hardly take the high ground on fairness, Jungkook."
He nods. Takes a second, and then pathetically begs: "Don't fuck him. Please."
"Why shouldn't I?"
"You know why," he says. Stands straighter, now. Rakes a hand through his hair. Looks down on you with such pained desperation you almost feel bad. He tries to speak, but struggles with his words again. Takes him a few attempts to get anything out. "I didn't like you because I was fucking you. I fucked you because I liked you. You know that. You know it wasn't...Fuck. You know what it was."
The past tense he speaks in cuts you up inside.
Jungkook shrugs in defeat when he's met with silence. Purses his lips. Eyes on yours, they're glassy. Watery, almost.
Yours are just as bad, because what the fuck are you supposed to say to that? He's the one that cut you out. He did this.
"What did I do?" You ask, voice meagre and pathetic. Your vulnerability is mortifying, and yet you just can't help yourself as a tear streaks down your cheek. "What the fuck did I do that was so wrong, Kook?"
The heat of his hand scalds your skin as his thumb wipes away your tears. After his cold shoulder for the past two weeks, your body doesn't know how to respond. Should you be angry? Hurt? Comforted?
All you know is that you're more confused now than you ever were when you first started hooking up with him.
"Nothing," he quietly promises. Holds your cheeks in his hands. Rests his nose beside yours. Is far too close for a man who's been trying to stay away from you. Is beginning to realise that maybe his self-preservation was thinly veiled self-sabotage instead. "I thought I was doing the right thing, but it's been so fuckin' miserable, and then I didn't know how to fix things, and then it was all such a mess and—"
The words Jungkook is yet to speak are lost in the soft press of your lips against his.
Brows furrowed, Jungkook's grip on your face tightens. Keeps you close, 'cause he feels the pressure of your lips waning but doesn't want you to pull away.
And so you don't. Instead you apply more pressure. Harder. Deeper.
It's not like kissing Jungkook is a new experience. You've done it upwards of a thousand times, now. You know his lips and his tongue, and how it likes to flick against yours; his piercings, and the frequency of his moans that vibrate into your mouth.
Kissing Jungkook is just as easy as it is hard. Easy, in the way he takes not a single considered thought. Hard, in how it becomes your only tangible thought for minutes, hours, days afterwards.
An eternity and a millisecond is lost in the kiss, just like the summer that lasted an age and yet was gone with the wind.
When your lips finally part, there's silence. Forehead resting on yours, Jungkook shakes his head ever so gently. Doesn't know how to articulate his thoughts. How to say sorry, or how to fix his mess.
While his logic was flawed, and his execution careless, his intentions had been good. As much as he had a life to go back to, and friends that wouldn't get it, so did you.
He knows they hate him—isn't ignorant to the roll of Maria's eyes every time they walk into Montgomery's, and has experienced Taehyung's disdain first-hand this evening.
He'd spent his summer getting out of the house to avoid the fall-out of his father's infidelity. Knows how much his family is suffering all because of a man who just couldn't control himself. Was trying to be better. Trying not to wreck both of your lives.
As he stands in the dingy bathroom of a party house, the lingering burn of your lips on his still smouldering, he knows that he wrecked you both regardless.
And so it's up to him to put you back together again.
"I'm sorry," you say as you break the kiss, mortified at how stupid of an impulse it had been. You don't that. Not anymore. A month ago, sure, kissing Jungkook in a dingy bathroom at a party house would have been exciting. Now, it just feels embarrassing. "I shouldn't have—"
His lips are on yours again, stealing your words from you. He doesn't want to hear you apologise. Knows that you don't need to. Also knows that he does need to.
"Don't," he quickly says between kisses. "Please, don't say sorry."
"But I—"
"Shut up," he smiles against your lips, shaking his head ever so slightly. He kisses you again, and this time it's soft. Pretty. Poetic, almost in how it makes you feel. And then he speaks, and you're reminded of just how easy it is to adore him, even when you know you shouldn't. "You know how much I've missed this? God, I've missed you so much. Please don't say sorry. I'm sorry. It's on me. I made a mistake, alright? I fucked up."
He pulls back. Has your cheeks in his hands as he makes sure your eyes are on his. They're dark, now, in the dim light of the bathroom you're in, but they've never been warmer.
"I mean it. I'm so fucking sorry," he whispers. Brows furrowed, lips pouty, he's got the kind of face you're hardwired to trust. To adore. Or maybe, it's just him, in general, that you're inclined to feel this way about. "Okay?"
His large hard hands are still holding your cheeks, as yours wrap around his wrists. With a shake of your head, you shrug. Pout, too.
An apology is appreciated, but it's just words. It's his actions that have been upsetting you. Not his words (or lack thereof).
"We're gonna leave this bathroom and you're gonna pretend like I don't exist again," you tell him.
The frown on his face deepens. "That's not true. And that's not what I was trying to do in the first place, either. I just thought—"
"What? That it was a good idea to kiss me on my doorstep and promise you'd pick me up from work, only to never show? To ignore my texts? To—"
"No," he quietly admits, dropping his head between his shoulders. "I made the wrong calls—but I can make it up to you. I want to make it up to you." He rests his forehead against yours. Quietly begs, "Please."
Slowly, Jungkook nudges his nose up against yours. Waits for permission.
Beyond the door, loud music thuds through the room. It obscures the conversation you've been having, keeping you just as secret as you always have been.
It's not like you told any of your friends, either, and when it came to telling Taehyung, you weren't exactly forthcoming. Perhaps you would have been the one to pretend like he didn't exist, had he not done it first.
"I want you," he husks against your lips.
"You wanna fuck me," you correct him, lips tantalisingly brushing his with every word.
"True," he admits. "But I also wanna send you dumb memes again, and go for drives after work, and wake up in your bed. I wanna go for breakfast, and I still need to cook you my world-famous makguksu. I want to have not been a dick for the past two weeks, but I can't change that. I just wanna be what I once was to you again."
"And what was that?" You encourage.
There was never any label. Realistically, there's no right answer.
Or at least there isn't, until Jungkook just simply says, "Yours."
And what else can you do when confronted by such a pathetic, yearnful admittance from him, except to give into how you're feeling, too?
Frantic in the way your hands are on his body—his arms, his waist, around his throat—there's a neediness to you. One he's missed. One he reciprocates, as his large palms stroke up your spread thighs, then get your legs wrapped around his hips.
The movements of your bodies are so well nurtured by now that you know what comes next; how the bulge in his trousers will press against your covered pussy, and how you'll whine at the contact no matter how minimal.
"Fuck," you whine as his hands slip under the skirt of your dress. It's an old routine at this point. He knows exactly where to go, what to do. His fingers press against the wet fabric of your underwear, just gently enough to make you moan a little harder into his mouth.
"Oh?" He smirks when he realises just how needy you are, his fingers stroking against your slick panties. "Missed me, too?"
"You're an asshole," you tell him with a smile. As his fingers get firmer, you can't help but whine. "You know I have."
He pulls back to look down at your body. Pushes the fabric of your dress out of the way. Curses when he realises the underwear you're wearing. Is his favourite pair. Red and lacy, there's a suspender belt to match it. While you're not wearing it right now, he's got pictures of you in it that belong in a fuckin' museum.
"Did you wanna fuck me tonight, huh?" He mumbles into your lips.
"Not everything is about you," you say with a smile, wrapping your arms around his neck.
Except it is. They're your favourite pair too, simply for how insanely he reacted to seeing you in them. Sure you're not in the full set up, but it was enough to have you feeling ever so confident as you left the house with Taehyung.
As his lips press against yours, his finger hooks beneath your underwear. Tugs them to the side. Gets you exposed for him.
"No?" He husks, as his fingers begin to sink between your soaked folds. "So this isn't about me, huh?"
You shake your head. Lie. "Never been less turned on."
He plays into your little theatrics. Has always enjoyed them.
"So you don't want me to do this?" He asks as his middle finger sinks into your entrance.
"Can't even feel it," you pretend, as if his thick knuckles aren't stroking against you in just the right way.
"No?" He grits. Sinks a second finger inside you. Gets you whining again, nails gripping onto his arms. His fingers slowly pump into you, easing you into the way it feels for him to be inside you.
There's something electric about Jungkook. Sends shivers through your spine. Always knew exactly how to manipulate your pussy into doing whatever he wanted, and now is no different. As you clench around him, he's overcome with satisfaction.
"This is just my fingers," he reminds you. "I don't think you can handle my cock."
Scoffing, you're desperately trying to pretend you aren't melting for him. "Please, I can handle it just fine."
"Sure you can, baby," he teases with so much arrogance you kinda wanna fight him again—but it's also why you like him. He challenges you. Gets your brain in overdrive.
And when he crouches in front of the counter, eyes aligned with your exposed cunt, you think you might actually lose it entirely.
His hands are on your thighs, spreading you further, getting a good look at the mess between your legs. When he sighs, the shallow breath that escapes his lips feels like absolute sin against your wetness.
"Oh, you really haven't been fucked since me, have you?" He teases again. "Look at how fucking keen you are. Been missing my cock, huh?"
"My vibrator's been doing the job just fine," you assure him, but it has him pulling back to cock a brow in your direction. He knows many things about you that other people don't, but he was not aware you owned any sex toys. Finds that his cock only throbs even harder in his pants at this revelation.
"Maybe so," he husks, leaning closer just so he drags his flat tongue up your folds. Has to stop himself from moaning, 'cause the taste of you is somehow even better than his memories. "But it's not better than me."
With a point to prove, and a desperation to reclaim you as his own, Jungkook doesn't entertain chitchat any longer. He dives back in, tongue lapping against your lips as his fingers push back inside you. The way he curls them just right as his tongue flicks against your clit is enough to make anyone lose their head.
Hands tangling in his hair, you find your body responding to him in the way it always does; pathetically, needily, hungrily. There's no dignity to be found.
His tongue works against you like a well trained craft, until his lips latch around your swollen bud and begin to lightly suck on it. When he hums in satisfaction—which he does often—the suction only grows stronger.
Gets you whimpering, "Like that. Fuck. Like that."
The build is just as undignified as you are. Your grip on his hair gets tighter, and the shake of your legs grows stronger. Dragging his tongue up and down your folds, he settles back on your clit. Flicks his pointed tongue against you until he knows you can't take it any longer and begins to suck again. Curves his fingers just right. Strokes you so gently that orgasm pours out of you like liquid gold. Guilds him into the most gorgeous aureate glow.
He doesn't ease. Keeps his lips wrapped around your clit. Makes sure you're spent.
When he finally releases you, he's breathing just as heavily as you are. Gets to his feet, fingers still plugged in your tight pussy. Is pleased to find you're just as insatiable as he is, pulling him in for the messiest of kisses as soon as you can. There's no care given for the fact he's covered in your arousal. You just want that tongue of his in your mouth—and when it is, you find yourself moaning from the withdrawal of his fingers.
Your hands reach to the waistband of his jeans to unhook his button. Get his zipper down. Your hands down the front of his trousers, when his thick cock is restricted by his tight boxer briefs. By the tip of his cock, a small wet patch resides; his desperation for you obvious. Gently rubbing your thumb across the pre-cum, all you can think about is his slit, and how you wanna kitten lick across it.
But it's been two weeks of near-constant pining, and all Jungkook wants is to bury himself inside you.
"Let me fuck you," he begs. "Please, baby."
If the girl who had first seen Jungkook in a shared lecture hall two years ago would have known she'd end up in a shitty bathroom with him begging for her, she'd have laughed. Wouldn't have believed it for a second.
Fresh-faced and so out of your comfort zone, the first few days at university were full of potential. It was before you had wised up to your place in the pecking order; when Jungkook was just a boy in your orientation class.
Skin kissed by European sun, there had been a radiance to him that seemed to captivate just about everyone. You weren't the only girl who had been sneaking glances his way.
You'd thought about him a lot in those first few weeks. Came to learn of his family ties around the same time you befriended Taehyung. Stopped seeing him around campus so much, and rarely ever thought of him.
But on those rare occasions you crossed paths, your gaze would always linger.
As he frees himself of his boxers, trousers suspended midway down his thighs, he gently rubs the tip of his cock between your folds and husks, "Always thought you were so pretty, y'know?"
Looking up at you for just a second, he smirks. Looks back down. Continues to rub himself against you, prepping himself with your slickness.
"Freshers week," he continues. "You never came to any of the parties."
The tip of his cock kisses your entrance, but doesn't penetrate. You stay in limbo just shy of what you both want.
"Had a stupid fuckin' crush on you," he admits. Has never acknowledged it before, but has always known. Kept it hidden. Safe. Secret.
"No, you didn't," you smile. He didn't even give you a second glance. Was always you seeking him out in lecture halls.
"I did," he says with absolute certainty. "You wore that little black sundress on our first day. Had ruffles on the shoulders."
It hangs in your wardrobe, a little out of style but still sweet in the right setting. You know the exact one he's talking about, because he's right. You did wear it on that very first day.
His cock nudges a little deeper. Enough to make you gasp, but not moan. Not yet. Gripping his arms, brows furrowed, you nod. He sinks himself just a little bit further. The feeling is overwhelming; fire on ice.
"Would have fucked you in that lecture hall, if you'd have let me," he smirks.
"You didn't even know my name," you counter, but he cuts your questioning off as he edges a little deeper, still. His hand dips to gently rub languid circles on your clit. He's not pushing himself any further, not yet. Wants to ease into how this feels.
"I did," he admits. "Listened extra hard during the roll call."
"So this has all been some big elaborate scheme to get into my pants, huh?"
"Is it working?" he jokes, leaning over to yank the cabinet above the sink open. A few random bottles and packets clatter into the sink, but he doesn't care.
He's looking on the top shelf, rifling through old boxes, sending more miscellaneous objects to their untimely demise. Spotting what he's after, he's assertive as he knocks the cabinet shut. Passes you the box.
"S'all there is. They alright?"
"Sure," you say, pulling one of the foil packets from the box. You check the date stamped on the front—only to see it's a year out of date. Some protection would be better than none, regardless of the date, but fuck it. You're on the pill. "You haven't fucked anyone else? In the last couple weeks?"
"What?" His brows contort in confusion. "No."
His expression softens, but is still laced with confusion when you toss the box of condoms down into the sink.
"I don't care. I don't want them—"
You're cut off by the way Jungkook clasps your jaw, keeping your eyes locked on his. There's a seriousness to him now; the same demeanour he holds himself with when he was taking photographs. He's intentional. Assertive.
"Promise me," he says with stern certainty. "You want this?"
When he's got you like this—legs spread, body his to claim, your soul to take—it's impossible to do anything but comply. See, things with Jungkook are reciprocal. Your feelings, your tortured misunderstanding of how a relationship could ever work, and his seriousness, now, too.
"I promise," you swear.
As a chaste kiss is pressed to your lips, his hands stroke down your spread thighs, pushing you a little further open for him.
"Can't unfuck me," he softly reminds you. Is taking his time not for the anticipation, but because he's scared. "If you fuck me raw—"
"Then I fuck you raw," you simply repeat, knowing that it's up to you to ease his woes. If anyone should be scared, it's you—yet there's a safety that comes with being with Jungkook. Smirk, then say, "Trust me. I know I can't unfuck you. I've been trying to forget—"
"Ouch," he laughs, nudging his nose up against yours.
"—but you're just..." you tailed off, not wanting to compliment him too highly. He's still in the dog house. "Memorable."
With a sardonic smile that he knows only means trouble, you reach down to grip his incredibly pert ass cheeks. Squeezing, just because you can, you encourage him to push even deeper into you—and he's the one who whines, now.
"God, you're so fuckin' tight," he praises with such pained desperation it almost sounds like he'll cry. He won't. It's just that he can't quite believe that he's raw inside you right now, and that you feel just as good as he always imagined. Better, even.
"Yeah?" You question, as you pull his hips closer, gasping as he finally sinks his full length into you once more. His fingers were thick, but they've got nothing on his cock. Like he's taken all the air from your lungs, your voice is all light and airy. Makes Jungkook even more insane.
"Yeah," he mumbles as he nods into a kiss that is just as feverant as his need to pulse his hips. He doesn't dare do it yet. Is waiting for you. "Feels so fuckin' good."
"So just fuck me," you hungrily moan into his lips.
You're challenging him deliberately, and it works a fucking treat when he pulls back with a grin. He doesn't withdraw himself, but he does pulse his hips ever so slightly. Keeps you plugged. Is just nudging even deeper into you as he keeps a hold on your thighs, keeping them spread nice and wide.
"Say please," he grunts as his pulsing becomes a singular deep thrust.
Your argumentative streak wants to fight.
You'll berate yourself later for the way you whimper, "Please."
His thick cock withdraws just a little to push back into you. He groans. Curses. Builds momentum. Speed.
The sound of his skin slapping against yours as he pounds himself into you is impossible to ignore. Your moans build. Double. Treble. He's grunting too, and then his lips are on your neck. It's a mess, quite frankly.
In the sordid shadows of this bathroom, your bodies become acquainted with an intimacy not yet bridged before. You can pretend to ignore each other in the hallways of your shared lecture buildings, but you'll never be able to ignore the desperation you have for one another. Jungkook was right. You can't unfuck him. And now he's fucking you raw, it only make it even more potent.
Harshly pulling himself out of you, Jungkook almost fuckin' cums on the spot when he realises how soaked he is from your arousal. It's not like it's a new thing, but skin on skin, it's so much more intense. Gasping from the sudden loss of pressure, you're a little unsteady. Lurch forward as if your body could stop him from withdrawing.
Holding the base of his thick shaft, Jungkook spanks against your pussy with his cock. Rubs your slick wetness around with his tip. Hooks his elbows under your thighs. Pulls you closer. Instructs, "Arms around my neck."
Wrapping an arm around your back, the other one tucks under your ass as he lifts you.
He turns. Presses your back to the wall, and lines himself up.
"Legs around me," he tells you, and as soon as you do, his cock pushes up into you again. He keeps you pinned against the wall as he begins to fuck himself into you, his lips pressing wet kisses to the curve of your neck.
The sight in the mirror behind him is lethal; his broad back covered by his shirt, but it doesn't matter. You know what he looks like. Know his muscles, and the valley of his spine, like the back of your own damn hand.
You wanna see it though. Give it a tug. Send him the right message. Get him tearing his shirt off and dropping it to the floor for you. Victory is so damn sweet.
"Kook," you whine as he really begins to get deep. "You're gonna make me cum."
"All over my cock, huh?" He grunts. "Gonna cum on cock, are you?"
His taunting only makes you whimper even more. "I'm so close."
And because he just likes to get you all whiney and needy, Jungkook stops. Puts you down. Gets you facing the mirror as you protest his unfair stealing of an orgasm.
But then he's lining himself up again, getting ready to take you from behind. Spanks your ass ever so quickly.
Sinking into you again, Jungkook curses. "Tighter like this."
"Good?" You pathetically check, and Jungkook can't help but think it's sweet.
"Yeah, babe," he promises, and pretends as if it's completely usual for him to speak to you so tenderly. "Feels so fuckin' good. Missed you so much, gorgeous. You and this tight cunt."
"Romance," you joke through your needy whines. He smirks at this, and delivers a curt little spank to your ass.
"I can be romantic," he assures you, as if you aren't being soundtracked by the sound of your skin slapping together, his thick cock fucking itself into your soaked hole.
His eyes rise from the steady gaze he'd had on your ass to your eyes.
Slowing himself, Jungkook holds his cock inside you without thrusting. Says, "I made that photo you took of us in your room my fuckin' phone wallpaper. I listen to that asmr guy you like before bed, every single fuckin' night. I keep one of your ribbons tied around my gearstick. That romantic enough for you?"
There's an incredibly bashful smile on your pretty face, which contradicts the way in which your pussy is tightening around him in the most lewd of ways. You're giggling when you say, "Shut up and fuck me."
But then he's giggling too, just how you like him to be. Says, "I missed your body, but I missed you more. Stupid."
"You're stupid."
"You're stupider."
"Kook," you laugh, as he's completely forgotten the task at hand. The way that he looks at you, you'd be forgiven for thinking he has. Truthfully, the connection he has with you is so much more than what sex has ever been for him before.
His hips lightly pulse, as he says, "Sorry. Where were we?"
"Think you were gonna make me cum."
"Ah, yeah. That. My bad."
His gentle thrusts begin to build pace once more. The grin on his face drops a little as he begins to concentrate on you. Watching him in the mirror, you're perplexed to be reminded of just how ethereal Jungkook looks when he fucks.
The deep ridge between his brows intensifies, as his mouth hands slack. His cheeks hollow a little, and his eyes remain entirely focused. Dark. Deep. Brooding.
As his hand dips around to gently stroke against your clit, Jungkook is just as taken away by the way you look. He isn't sure what it is that gets his heart so heavy in his chest, but he knows that he wants you to cum. Doesn't give a fuck about himself.
The walls of your cunt begin to tighten around his length as your moans deepen. You whine his name and he encourages a response, but neither of you can really talk. A numbness is washing over you, your balance unsteady.
"I'm gonna..." you begin, but find it impossible to finish.
"I know, baby," he nods all out of breath and desperately fucked out. "Give me what I want. Cum for me."
You trust and keep your eyes on him, but the nudging on his cock against your g-spot and the slow rubbing of your clit is just enough to tip you over.
"Kook," you whimper as your walls begin to tighten around him, but it's fruitless. There's a shake to your legs, and he's the only thing keeping you supported.
"Oh, fuck," he curses from the strength of your pussy around him. He's shaking just as much as you are. "Cream on this cock, baby. Oh, fuck. Yeah.Just like that. You're gonna make me cum, too. Gonna make me cum so fuckin' hard. All in your pussy. You want that, huh?"
It's as you're desperately whining, cumming all around his thick shaft that Jungkook feels his body lose control. There's a tightness to his balls, and a shudder to his sternum, that he hasn't felt since the last time he was in your bedroom. Last time he was in you, more specifically.
"Kook," you whimper his name, and that's when Jungkook really can't hold back.
"Yeah, babe," he rasps, as his hard thrusts become pathetic stutters. "I'm cumming."
The announcement isn't needed, for you swear you can almost feel it as his thick cum begins to fill you. The lack of a condom makes it all the more primal, the way his body shudders indicative of just how much cum he's filling you up with.
His body collapses on yours a little, his clammy torso pressed to your back. The dress you're wearing is barely on properly, and the feeling of his skin against yours is catastrophic. As intimate as sex is, it's this right now, the beat of his heart thrumming against your spine that is the real disaster. How you can ever look him in the eye again is beyond you.
But then his lips are pressing chaste kisses to the curve of your neck, and his hands are squeezing at your hips. He doesn't pull out. Keeps himself warm inside you. Says, "How the fuck am I ever supposed to give you up, huh?"
That's the thing.
He isn't supposed to, and you damn well know it.
Reaching back for some tissue to help you out, Jungkook slowly withdraws. Holds his hand beneath your pussy, then replaces it with tissue. Turns you around and lets you take over.
"Here's a radical idea," you offer, not looking at him as you quickly make sure you're decent. Stay standing with your legs crossed, just in case. "Don't."
Pulling his shirt back over his head, Jungkook presses his back to the wall. There's a distance between you, yes, but you don't really feel it, 'cause it's purely physical.
And it's not like it lasts for very long either, 'cause Jungkook decides he needs to kiss you all over again.
"Alright," he whispers against your lips. "Say we don't. Say I wanna be yours. What the fuck do we do now?"
You shrug. The answers aren't yours to decide. It's up to you both.
"Well, firstly I'm gonna text Tae," you hum. "Tell him you're still an asshole and that I need to be let out immediately."
It's been half an hour.
He came to check on things about ten minutes ago.
The music might be loud, but not loud enough to drown out the way you guys fuck.
Summer had been quiet. In his car, in your empty house, you've never had to keep it down before. Didn't even realise quite how loud you were being.
Which is why Jimin is the one who unlocks the outside bolt with a smirk a few minutes later, Taehyung watching on with a little disgusted grimace a metre or so back.
"Gross," he whisper shouts at you, but then he's smiling, too. Notices how Jungkook touches you—the hand he has on the small of your back, and the way he clasps your hand as you begin to walk ahead of him—and finds it impossible to be mad.
"C'mon," Jimin calls behind himself, leading you up and out of the basement. "We're going to the diner."
"We?" You question, incredibly confused.
"We." He simply says. Doesn't leave it up for debate. Gathers up the rest of the Untouchables (though Claudia is noticeably absent), and tells them the same thing he told you. Drags Taehyung along as well.
Jungkook was scared of integrating you into his life, but there's no other way to do it. Has to rip the band aid off.
As you walk into Montgomery's, hand in hand with the boy who had spent his summer wasting away with you in here, both of you realise that maybe it isn't such a huge deal.
Or at least, you do until Maria clocks you. Eyes darting from you, to Jungkook, and then to your gently clasped hands, she's in a state of absolute shock. Almost drops her tray.
"Sorry, what the fuck?!"
#byholly#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fanfiction#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#jungkook ff#jk ff#jungkook x reader#jungkook imagine#bangtan fic#jungkook fluff#college!jungkook#non idol au#bts fanfic#bangtan ff#jungkook fic#jeon jungkook x reader#college au
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I'm going to start this post off by saying that I write fic, and I know the pain of putting something out there and not getting a response. It sucks and it hurts and it puts a dent in my self-confidence. If I have the choice between posting a work on AO3 and getting only comments or posting a work on AO3 and getting only kudos, I'll probably choose comments let's say 8 times out of 10.
But with that in mind, posts that attempt to shame or guilt readers into commenting don't actually work.
Negative reinforcement (in the form of shame, guilt, or other worse emotions) doesn't make anyone want to do the thing. It just makes them want to avoid the guilt, etc. Rather than encouraging someone to talk to you about your writing, you're making that person want to avoid you so that they don't have to feel bad. That's just human nature.
I've said before that I think a lot of writers are looking for community rather than comments, and I still think that's true. The reason I love both writing and receiving comments is because it makes me feel like I've made a connection with someone. I may never know their real name or what they look like or where they live or anything else but what fandom we have in common, but we've reached out to each other in this text-based medium and we've shared words that made each other feel something.
I know that these posts are written out of frustration or loneliness or needing support or a hundred other reasons I could list off the top of my head. But when I read "you should be grateful for the things I give you and show me proper appreciation" it just reminds me of my parents telling me to clean my room or to follow the rules while I live under their roof.
It's so much more vulnerable to admit, "I don't know if this story is any good and I really wish someone would reassure me right now."
It's much harder to say, "I feel so alone in this fandom, and I want to make friends with someone."
It's difficult to admit, "I worked so hard on this for so long and I'm so tired, but if someone out there likes it then all of that effort will be worthwhile - and if no one says anything, then I'll feel like my effort was wasted."
I'm not trying to shame the people who made those posts, and if that's how this comes across then I'm sorry. I'm just trying to explain why I think those posts will harm more than they help.
I also hope that any readers who see this post will understand that those writers are just people who are feeling a lot of different ways, and they're venting their frustrations. I've been there. I've reblogged those posts before when I was feeling frustrated like that too.
If you're able to comment, those comments are appreciated. If you're not able to comment (for whatever reason), that's okay too. ❤️
#writing fic isn't a job and comments aren't a salary#and if it starts to feel that way then you might be experiencing burnout#and it could be time for a rest - or to think about one anyway#I obviously don't know your situation#but that's what it was for me
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everything about the void state | vanilla explain's
A few things to note. First of all, Vanilla was a very knowledgeable and supportive master shifter on DRA (a shifting amino community). You can read some of their other posts and you'll understand they really know their stuff and have dedicated a lot of time to understand this. Second, after reading this post, you'll understand why the void state isn't "just a method."
Here is the link to the og post: link
hello and welcome to this post! i am currently fighting against all the misinformation about the void state in this community and of course i had to post a full guide about it! here you'll read what the void is, what it's not, why it's extremely cool and multiple guides how to enter it!
table of content
i. intro
ii. the void
- what is it
- what is it not
- why the void state
- what it "looks like"
iii. how to enter it
- the "before state"
- awake
- sleep
- other ways
- affirmations
iv. q & a
v. outro
i. intro
in this post i talk about everything in context of the void state. i explain in deep detail what it actually is, clear up more misinformation, how to enter it in a lot of different ways, why the void is really nice and useful and in the end even have a q&a for everyone that got questions! you will notice how insane many misinformation are here. not just a few but full "guides" and "explanations" with it. please do not blame the creators for spreading them more! if you thought the same, you also could've been one of the people making posts about it.
ii. the void
let's start with the actual topic. to explain what the void is we have to know what exactly we are at first. so, what are we, what are you? you are an awareness. that means you are a tiny swabble-bubble thingy that experience the multiverse. right now you are on the physical plane so you see, hear, feel, smell, and taste. you can do a lot more things but the only important one is that you exist. you have no original appearance or identity (that's another topic) at this moment you are just you. you experience the 3d as y/n y/l/n. there are a few more things of course like your subcons and all that but it is not important for us now.
what is it?
we know that we are an awareness currently on the physical plane. we don't have an original identity we belong to as much as a reality. so what happens if we leave the 3d? is that even possible? yes, yes it is. that is the void state. the void means that you leave the physical plane. that is all. it is nothing special or unusual. the void state is the state of awareness. you, the tiny swabble-bubble thingy, exist there in your purest, most natural form. you could say the void is your home. when you aren't in a reality, you are in the void state. it's where you always return to and there is nothing more natural for you. you are just power, happiness, and peace there. nothing from the 3d can effect you anymore, your mind get's a whole reset. what does that mean? you have to know that you, the awareness, are not meant to doubt, have limited beliefs, worries, fears, trauma. it isn't natural or normal for you. you have them here on the 3d because they are physical circumstances. once you leave the physical plane, it of course means that they don't exist anymore. you enter it and BOOM they get completely erased. you won't even understand how you could believe such stuff after that. as you can see, the void is the state where you exist in your most "original" form, even if you don't have any identity or something like that.
what is it not
this is gonna be a long, long list. i'll actually make bullet points with everything i've ever heard here so you don't have to ask in the comments "someone said it is xy, is that true?". you can be very very sure that everything here in this list got 100% nothing at all to do with the void state. in the end i'll talk about the most drastic thing's but i also explained a lot already in my post about misconceptions.
- "body asleep, mind awake"
- meditation
- dreaming
- sats
- a sleep state
- the god state (mindset definition)
- theta state
- the "before state"
- relaxation
- the thing after you woke up
- being " in your brain"
- any other physical state at all⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀ as you can see, you guys came up with a lot of things! you may already understood, the void means leaving the physical plane, so its being a physical state is absolutely impossible. you do not notice it on the 3d. at all. it is just not possible. many, many ask me "why didn't i shift from the void" but tell me a few sentence later "and i only felt my body a little bit" and i sit there like "okay, i'll start from the very beginning".
so please guys, in the void you leave the physical plane. you have no body. you can't feel anything physical at all. when you "felt your body only a little bit" you weren't even near the void. once you entered it, the physical plane doesn't exist for you anymore. with these very important information we can just ignore 10 things from the list now because we know that they aren't true at all. last but not least "it is the god state". but what is the god state? there are two main definitions here 1. just another term for the void so it's totally okay to say it, but what many here mean is 2. the "god state" mindset. that's a bit tricky, the second meaning is just a mindset. it represents your natural state of mind where you are limitless and powerful. you have it immediately in the void BUT if you have it here on the 3d you are not automatically in the void. you are still on the physical plane. tiny but important difference.
why the void state
you may already thought "damn, that sounds cool" but do you know how cool it actually is? besides that you finally align with your natural state of mind, that the void is pure happiness, peace, and joy, that you can chill there as much as you want, you can also do everything you want!! whatever it is, there are no limits. so here a few things you may don't know you can do:
- change the past
- skip time
- change your whole appearance to your liking
- shift everywhere
- manifest to wake up every night in the void
- manifest the future
- erase things (f.e. racism etc)
- manifest to always shift instantly
- change everything about your life
- manifest to lucid dream every night⠀
as you can see, a lot more than many people think of. and the coolest?? it is instantly, in the very moment you want it, 100% reality. in the void the 3d/4d time gap can not exist because you are ABOVE the 3d. in the void you and your subcons work completely together that means that you literally give the commands. what do you have to do for it? want it. you don't even need affirmations or anything. you just want it and it is reality, no other possible outcome. in the void you can not fail, never and with nothing. if you ever thought you were in the void but "didn't shift" this is your clear sign that you were definitely not in the void. you are pure power there, it is impossible for you to fail at anything.
what it "looks like"
a question many, many have! what do you see in the void? actually you see nothing. you have nothing to see, you have no eyes. that's something most people are afraid of, deep, endless black and nothingness. but that's not the whole answer. you can customize your void! you have something called a "mental image". it is a picture you have in your mind and that is what you see. you can change it to your liking, very common here are galaxies. you could compare it to very, very vivid visualization but you don't have to focus on it and it's completely natural. you see whatever you want to see in the void. if you don't want black nothingness, you won't have it. very simple. so please don't be scared!
iii. how to enter it
there are a lot of ways to enter the void! you can basically leave the 3d through everything you want but of course a few things are easier for the mainstream than others. just try what you like and don't think you have to enter it immediately. i always compare it to speaking a language after a long ass break. it's weird and maybe seems hard, but every day you get more confident and notice how easy it is. that's the exact same with the void. everything is progress because every single thing is one step closer to being comfortable.
the "before state"
a term you guys hear extremely often from me. i came up with it because this was also a misinformation. but wait, what is it?? the so called "before state." it describes the time where you, the awareness, get ready to leave the physical plane. it always happens and especially beginner can feel A LOT there. it is the state where you feel like spinning, floating, falling all at once with tingles, dizziness, and confrusion. some time ago people said that this is the void. it is not. that's, as you already know by now, something that happens before you enter the void. many feel it, some do not and that is completely okay. for most people that actually feel it this intense it get's less and less every time they try. like you get more and more used to the idea of the void state, you know? you mostly witness it when you try to enter it awake or through a physical state. if you think you can not stand it, that's okay, you got enough other ways!
awake
made for biginner and everyone else
-before doing anything, ask yourself what you wanna do there? do you wanna chill a bit, manifest something, shift? with the intention or affirmations? if you can answer that you're good to go
-maybe put your phone away really quick to just calm down a bit so you're not full of energy while trying. you could draw something instead?
-lay down in a position where you know that it won't distract you. nothing that hurts or is uncomfortable
-now it helps many (especially when it's your fist attemps) to have a vague "plan". do you wanna visualize? affirm? counting?
-if you wanna relax more you can take a few breaths at the beginning
-after that try to just don't care about your body. don't care about your breath (and DON'T focus on it!!), you can count or start visualizing/affirming till you reach a deep deep relaxed state
-now you'll probably start feeling A LOT. physically and mentally (i don't talk about the itchy-pain feeling, that's just you body). your body will feel like floating, spinning and falling at the same time, you'll be dizzy and "confused". that's okay and totally normal. just stand it, do not fight it*
-if you have trouble affirming while that happen just think about it, it doesn't have to be very specific
-after that you'll feel nothing, absolutely nothing
-then you'll leave the physical plane, you'll just know it because you feel inner peace and happiness and calm
*this is the before state and will most probably get less intense every time you try sleep
you can also enter it with a sleep method! a thing not many people know but that's why we are here, right? just go to bed, now you can do several things
- listen to subliminals
- affirm
- visualize
- have mental conversations about the void
- just set your intention
you can do all, you can do none, just one, whatever you want. it is like the intention for shifting just with the difference that you wanna leavsle the 3d and not change your physical environment. it is the method many people use when they have problems with the before state, don't wanna lay still or have no time for it. you can do it anytime, everywhere. if you focus right now on lucid dreaming? awesome, you can still intend. in fact, the intention is exactly equally progress as when you try it awake. so it's definitely not just a "lazy version"!
other ways
as said, you can leave the physical plane through everything but here are some of your favorites:
- lucid dreaming
you can do it already or practice it right now? awesome! maybe try to enter the void state throught it. once the dream is lucid start to say affirmations, visualize or intend. or whatever you feel called to do
- physical states
you can reach sats easily? the theta state? you meditate or are able to disconnect from your body?use it for the void state if you want. if you can enter one of these and it helps you to disconnect from the physical world, that is really great. do whatever you want to do or ate able to. the same recommended as always, visualization, affirmations, no matter what you like the most
- " is this even real?"
you know the moment when life feels kinda unreal?when you look at the physical world and genuinely question how this can be reality? these are great moments to affirm you are in the void! if it feels unreal, who could proof that you aren't in the void?
- subliminals
got no time or just don't wanna try? there are many good subliminals out there to enter the void state. personally i recommend solars one. just listening to subliminals can also bring you in the void. they send clear commands of what you want to your subconscious mind and it will just say "oh, wanna leave? okay got you sweetie!"
affirmations
- i am pure awareness
- i am pure consciousness
- i am in the void
- i am in the void state
- i leave the physical plane
- i leave the 3d
- i completely disconnect from the 3d
- i can not get influenced by anything physical
- i am just pure awareness
- i have my natural state of mind
- i have my natural power
- i am home
- the void is my home
- i am where i'm supposed to be
- i leave the physical plane behind me
- i leave my body behind me
- i am pure nothing
- i want to leave the physical plane
- i am comfortable with leaving the physical plane
- leaving the physical plane is natural for me
- i am used to leave the physical plane
- i am used to being the void
- the void is my natural place
iv. q & a
just ask anything in the comments and i'll answer it here! or if you want you can take a look at my ask me anything - void state related, there are also a lot different questions!
q: do you feel unconditional love in the void?
a: you could describe it like that. you feel truly happy, at peace, calm, loved, secure, all the positive things you naturally should feel :smile:
q: Hey! Even if I don’t practice it awake and just intent to get into void state and sleep will my body get used to leave the 3D?
a: absolutely!! it's the same amount of progress :smile:
v. outro
this was my post about the void state and the first part of "vanilla explain's" my series where i explain things to you that aren't very common here! if you have wishes and ideas, let me know. please also comment every question you may have about the void state
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𝐬𝐨 𝐚𝐦𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐧 ─ 𝐦𝐯𝟏
summary: where max verstappen is the subject of a love song from a singer who never writes love songs
pairing: max verstappen x american singer!reader
faceclaim: no one specifically but based off olivia rodrigo
note: me? writing max verstappen? smau fluff? on main? everyone look away.
dailyynupdates
liked by user33, user4, user16 and others
dailyynupdates yn was seen around monte carlo the past few days, taking pictures with fans and allegedly cozying up with three time world champion max verstappen
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user12 what is going on in the house of commons because this was the last thing i expected
user39 this is quite literally the most random pairing i've ever stumbled across
user91 how do they even know each other 😭
user63 right like...where did this even come from? how did it start? literally how did they meet? they could not be farthest apart in the sphere of famous people
user19 now who the hell is max verstappen and why is he with my wife?
user49 oh girl you have a lot to catch up on the max lore
user71 max is a formula one driver
user56 saying max is a formula 1 driver like he currently isn't dominating the sport to the point where people hates him saying he's making it boring since he keeps winning because he's just that fucking good that literally no other driver can keep up is kinda wild
user10 oh so our girl's new man is good at his job
user52 "good at his job might just be the biggest understatement of the century when it comes to max. man's a fucking beast at his job
user48 i dont have to see her with her ratty ex anymore omfg war is over
user93 dare i say...they're adorable
user82 yn being in an age appropriate, healthy relationship? i never thought the day would come
user74 we won for real 🥹🫶
dailyynupdates
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dailyynupdates max and yn in a video posted by yn's friend 😭
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user93 oh my god look at them 😭
user81 they look so in love i want to cry
user65 "maximillian, do i look pretty like this?" "you always look pretty" i couldn't quite catch what he said at the end but 😭😭😭
user85 dutch here and i believe he said "laiverd" which means darling
user75 this means so much to me
user65 you just made my entire week
user45 seeing her in love after all the shit men is healing a part of me i didnt know was broken
user53 max fixing her hood then kissing her cheek what if you just stabbed me
user31 every time i see these, i get the urge to take a shot of bleach 😀
sincerelyyn ✓
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sincerelyyn can't have a conversation if it's not all about you
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yourfriend as the other person of those conversations, he's fine i guess 😒
sincerelyyn you know i love youuuuu
taylorswift love seeing you happy ❤️
sincerelyyn ❤️❤️
user73 mother is all of us
user63 you know it's real when it's taylor swift approved
conangrey i hate happy couples i hope you both trip 🫶
sincerelyyn die 🫶
user92 their friendship is everything to me
user15 not girlie trying to soft launch like we all don't know who it is 😭
user43 THEYRE SO ‼️🥵🥰⚠️
user65 you're so right
user24 i'm so happy finally seeing our girl happy 😭
user84 "someday i'll be everything to somebody else" YES YOU ARE BABYGIRL 😭
maxverstappen1
liked by sincerelyyn, charles_leclerc, landonorris and others
maxverstappen1 my american girl 🩷
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charles_leclerc i still can't believe this is happening
maxverstappen1 for someone who don't even follow me, you sure are early to my posts 😒
user91 max gagged him with that im afraid
landonorris please please max talk to her about getting me tickets 😭
user85 lando is just like us fr struggling to get guts tour tickets
maxverstappen1 no ❤️
landonorris 😔
sincerelyyn @landonorris let me get you in contact with my team 🤍
maxverstappen1 baby noooo
sincerelyyn be nice, max
landonorris HELL YEAH THANKS YN
user42 this is the crossover i never thought i needed
user66 max posting non racing content and being all soft in the comments for yn in what world am i in
user52 fr i feel like im in an alternate universe 😭
sincerelyyn love youuuu
maxverstappen1 love you more
sincelyyn i never knew love could be so golden till i met you <3
maxverstappen1 mijn hele hart is van jou, schat (you own my entire heart, darling)
user42 they mean so very much to me 😭
danielricciardo god the two of you make me nauseous
maxverstappen1 hating because you ain't us
danielricciardo im not liking that attitude, kid 😒
user71 daniel is so us
sincerelyyn
liked by maxverstappen1, taylorswift, yourfriend and others
sincerelyyn so american will be out on all platforms at midnight. a letter to the man i love, the only way i know how ❤️
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maxverstappen1 i adore you with everything in my being ❤️
sincerelyyn ik hou van je (i love you)
i hope you guys liked this as much as i loved writing it 🫶
#f1 imagine#f1 x reader#f1 instagram au#f1 x you#f1#f1 social media au#max verstappen imagine#max verstappen instagram au#max verstappen x you#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen fanfic#max verstappen#max verstappen fluff
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Me & Mr. Miller
au!Joel Miller x f!Reader [5.2k]
summary: You and Joel had a deal to stay away from each other.
The only obstacle is—neither one of you wants to do that. He might be the father of one of your closest friends and someone a few (many) years older than you, but... who cared. Not you. Not him. The deal wasn't going as planned.
📝 in this scenario the outbreak never happened! joel miller is doing just fine! If you enjoy it, reblogs and comments make all the difference.
warnings⚠️ mature content—explicit depictions of sex, so minors dni. | 🏷️ age gap, misunderstanding, secret relationship, pining, strangers to lovers. Oral (f receiving), penetration (p in v), unprotected sex, dirty talking, love-making.
masterlist |
ㅤㅤㅤㅤTexas, Winter of 2023.
"Aw, shit, Joel. Fuck," Tess turned to him with her face twisted into a weird, panicked smile, and that's exactly when Joel realized he'd gone and fucked up again somehow. "You set me up. You set me up!"
"What?!"
"We could've at least told me you were inviting me to Sarah's birthday to be eaten fuckin' alive—is she still looking at me? Goddamn," the panic left for a second, replaced with a knowing smirk that he was unfortunately too familiar with. "She's got really nice eyes, I'll tell you that much. Were you gonna tell me I came here to make your girlfriend jealous? And really—is she still looking? 'Cause those are very intimidating eyes, and I'm gonna need to prepare myself."
There was no preparing to look into your eyes.
Joel would know.
He was done for the minute he laid eyes on you. The way you looked at him.
His hands started to sweat, and his mouth ran dry. He had to look. Gravity couldn't keep him from it.
"You know... a lot makes sense now," Tess starts.
"Don't."
Tess chuckles, hiding it in her drink. "Jeez—did you win her by blabbering her ears out? 'Cause I only got a single look into Miss Daggers for Eyes, but she looks—"
"Jesus Christ, I'm gonna regret having brought you, won't I?" Joel interrupts because he can't turn around as sharply as he'd like, and he can feel it already. Your eyes on him.
Tess stops hiding her laughter, "Oh, for sure. And only because I'm gonna make it very hard for you because you didn't tell me. Because you think that not talking about it makes things just... go away," she wiggles her fingers like dandelions in the sky, and Joel loves his best friend, but she can be a bit of a dick.
"I was gonna tell you," he sighs, fidgeting inside the stupid blazer; sipping his bourbon to ease the jitteriness inside his skin already proved to be a terrible fucking idea when in your presence. "I was—" and where are you? There are a lot of people behind Tess' shoulders and Joel could spot you in a football crowd.
"Jesus." Tess enunciates every letter. "Joel, find her so you can have your focus back."
"Just for the record, she isn't my girlfriend," he states.
Tess scoffs, and it says more than words could.
"She isn't," he presses.
"I believe you," says Tess. "But now I also know I wasn't crazy when I said you were happier last year after going to New York. You were. And Miss Daggers for Eyes—"
"She has a name."
"—is the reason. Does she? Does she have a name, Joel? Her parents are so kind for giving her one," Tess sasses. "I would know her name if you hadn't hidden her from me."
"I didn't hide anybody, there was nobody to hide. Also, can you shut up? You're louder than my thoughts."
The next laugh comes accompanied by a slap on the shoulder, and Tess walking away, but not before whispering in his ear. "Joel, buddy, I wholeheartedly believe you had the best intentions with bringing me here, but here's a tip you didn't ask for: Not one of you is as over whatever the hell happened as you may think. Talk to her."
Talk to her.
As if it was that simple.
As if there wasn't a deal.
Joel needs to find you, but first, he needs another drink.
He gulps down his glass and tries to smile as the guests pass him by. None of them seem to notice his imminent heart attack. None of them see through his carefully curated nonchalance, and he's happy about that.
There's already a person present who can see through him like glass, and he can barely deal with that one.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤNYC, Spring of 2022.
You stood no chance against him.
The first time you saw him, Joel looked like a Wes Anderson visual.
Pink suit, grey strands unabashedly mixed in his soft, shiny black hair, and a shy smile to put any of the other men present to shame.
You were drawn like a moth to a flame.
He looked quite serious without that beautiful smile on—he looked like someone who would, in fact, never wear a pink suit, so you walked over to him and slid right next to his spot at the bar. "That's a bold outfit choice," were your first words. You smiled when his eyes landed on you, so wide and filled with surprise; warm, and stunning like a hot summer day. "But it suits you."
Joel looked stunned for a moment.
He blinked, sipped his bourbon glass and his eyes did a not-subtle-at-all up and down. Then, he put down his glass and the corner of his mouth twitched with the idea of a smile. "I lost a bet," he answered. You recognized the southern accent immediately. "Believe it or not."
"Oh, I believe you," you chuckled.
"It suits me, though?" he asked, opening his arms to the sides.
You nodded. "It does," your peripheral vision caught Bruna approaching behind the bar, and you smiled at her. "Hi, babe. Can I get a caipirinha, please?"
"Hey, girl," she smiled at you and used all of her subtlety to glance at Joel observing the exchange. "Sure thing. Vodka, sake, or cachaça?"
"Bruna, you know there's only one way to do a proper caipirinha," you rolled your eyes.
Bruna smiled. "Cachaça it is, then. Lemon, or something else?"
"Hm, how about an unexpected fruit? Surprise me."
"You got it. Anything else?" she asked.
"Nope, just remember to drink some water. You always work too hard," you winked at her.
Bruna left to make your drink with a blinding smile on her face, and you turned around to find Joel staring. He leaned on the counter with his arm supported on it, and as soon as you looked at him he asked, "Where d'you two know each other from?"
You pointed at the huge banners of NYU standing behind you. "She goes there — I go there."
"You go to NYU?"
"I do," you answered. "Getting my phD, actually," your smile always came out at that.
Joel's face never hides his surprise, but the smile was unexpected and very welcome. "Wow. Congratulations."
"Thank you. I imagine you're here because of the Spring exhibition?" you looked around at the gallery where everyone around looked as posh as you and he did, save for the curious New Yorker just enjoying their walk.
"I am. My daughter has a paper on display on the third floor," he replied.
"Politics and Law area?"
"That's her," he confirmed.
"I have a few close friends in the department," you smiled. "It was my first stop."
"Are you here showin' something too?"
"I'm actually here as one of 'somethings' to show?" No matter how long in the business, talking about being the art itself was always surreal. Especially in front of otherwordly handsome and charming men. Where was Bruna with your drink when you needed her? "My roommate's exhibition won the main exhibit, and we — dancers — are her tool. Her paint."
"You're part of the main exhibit?" He looked every bit impressed, and you nodded, feeling giddy at the prospect. "Double wow. Wait—shouldn't you be backstage, then?"
"Oh, no, gods, no. This whole thing stays here all afternoon, the final piece is only at sunrise—6pm, kinda?"
"Okay. And do I get to know your name before you run off to become art or d'you plan on dropping a crystal shoe so I can roam around later tryin' to find out?"
That had been the first time he made you laugh.
Truly laugh; not a few breaths out of your nose or an easy chuckle—Joel was silly, and he looked like modern-day Adonis in the stupid pink suit that he only wore because of a goddamn bet, and you had no chance.
"I'm Joel," he extended his hand.
That had been the doom of it all—no last names. Only smiles.
You shook his hand and offered your name back, only for him to repeat it out loud.
Test it on his tongue.
You were always doomed.
ㅤㅤㅤㅤTexas, Winter of 2023.
Jealousy looked godly on you.
Joel hated himself for even thinking it, but he hated himself a lot this evening.
He had hurt you, for starters.
The only thing he set himself not to do, and he'd done it.
More than a year has passed since the fateful day you stepped, yet better—waltzed into his field of vision, and had he known a day of peace ever since?
The day he met you still played on his head like a broken record stuck inside a player:
Saying goodbye to Sarah in front of the gallery, turning around the corner, and seeing you with smoke blowing in front of your face, smiling at the sight of him. You in your green dress. The happiness written all over you, the obvious and earnest glee of seeing that Joel was still around.
Walking with you all around New York, feeling three times less intimidated by the imposing streets with you by his side. The smell of your apartment, the street food you two got on the way, the conversation that flowed as easy as a river stream.
Joel had the imprint of your shining personality burning behind his eyelids. The taste of strawberry from your caipirinha permanently inked on his tongue.
He stood no chance against your eyes—as much as she teased, Tess was right.
Miss Daggers for Eyes.
The way you looked at him at said, "You gotta stop looking at me like that, Joel. I'm starting to think you're not paying attention to what I'm saying," even though you already knew that to be true. Since the moment the strap of your blouse fell from your shoulders and you kept on talking, Joel was fish in a net.
He had the taste of your cunt and the smell of being buried between your thighs waking him up late at night for the next months to come.
The way you rode his face just as he asked you to—no mercy, no shame, only that, only your desires and the alcohol and the weed and the conversation and everything—everything, everything, everything.
Joel took it all out like a starved, greedy man, and you took it back, and neither of you slept until the sun was shining again in the sky.
The next couple of months were filled with texts since Texas demanded him back home and you were already home.
It could've been just friendship.
It was supposed to be simple.
So what if you two called each other and got off while on the phone like a couple of young adults who can't bear to be away from each other? So what if Joel texted you and had to endure Tess and other co-workers smiling at him and wondering, "what the hell's got Joel Damn Miller in a good mood, huh?"
So what if Joel learned more about you than he could admit to himself that he even wanted to know? Even if he was the one asking?
It didn't matter, because it wasn't simple.
Because when you called and said, "Your name is Joel Miller?" he realized why Sarah said he was such a 'distant concept'. No social media meant nobody to pry, but it also meant misunderstandings.
It also meant having to answer you with apprehension, because your tone had never been that off. "It is. Why are you sayin' it like I'm on a list or somethin'?"
"Joel." His stomach fell at his name alone. "You're Sarah's dad. Fuck. Of course you are—"
"Wait, you know Sarah?"
"Yes, I know Sarah. I'm friends with Sarah, or I was before—oh god, she's gonna kill me. She is, isn't she?"
He had assisted you through your panic even though he felt the same.
He walked outside his office, talked you through your next breaths, and guaranteed you there was no reason to panic. "That's it, it's ok, hun'—," he stopped, cursed mentally, and rectified his mistake with his name. You were not his hun, and Joel had been lost on cloud nine without realizing you could've never been. "Just breathe. She doesn't know. She won't know. You two are fine."
That had been it, or so he thought.
Joel stared a lot at the last message he received from you. Thought about sending something else. Continuing the conversation.
Instead, he let the silence make the dust settle.
It had been a haze.
A dream, or a glitch in the matrix—it wouldn't be happening again, and no matter how much he looked at the text you sent weeks prior — i really like talking to you, Joel — nothing would change.
Except it did.
Except — the silence amounted to nothing.
One look at you across the street and Joel was dragged back in.
That Summer when Sarah invited him back, Joel had almost said no, but he remained as able to deny her anything as when she was a kid. The weekend went perfectly, and Joel did his best to not think of you as he was there, but all it took was a few words on a screen:
ㅤㅤㅤㅤSaw Sarah's IG stories. You loaok so good when you smile , JoelㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤLove how the sweater looks on yoyu
Drunk baby. Honey.
The second time there was no deal on the table yet, but there was you.
Joel appeared at your apartment door at twenty past two in the morning and only left a couple of hours before his plane left.
You two pretended your apartment was a bubble.
It worked.
Joel had missed you. It sounded silly when he thought it early in the morning before leaving for work—when everyday routine served as bitter medicine it was enough to convince himself it was all just wishful thinking.
With you in the same room as him, lying was harder.
There was no 'wishful' part on how well you two worked.
There was a divine inspiration in the way you made him feel like something new.
Joel felt warm, wanted, devilishly handsome under your gaze. Your careful touch.
"You're so fucking handsome," you repeated to him.
He never thought about his looks, but he couldn't stop himself from enjoying the truth in your words. How much you believed them. "Glad you think so."
"Don't snicker at me like that, Mr. Joel—"
"Snicker? I ain't snickerin', I'm laughin'. You keep tracing my wrinkles like that and I'm gonna get a complex, hun."
"The drama. You're so lame! Oh my god."
"And yet, you're laughing. You know, that's the same shit my daughter says. I'm startin' to think it's true."
"It is. You're silly. But it's okay —" the tip of your fingers tracing his features felt like the first drops of rain hitting the skin. Joel shivered under your touch more times than he cared to count, and he'd only been present for it a couple of times. He'd hate to think of how much you could ruin him with enough time given. How much no other touch would suffice anymore. " — 'cause it's all part of your charm..."
Who would've thought Joel still had it?
Charm.
No amount of charm made up for the situation, though, and before you left, you asked the inevitable question. "No one can know, right?"
"No." He knew what was at stake—your friendship with his most important person. Maybe more. "It was just our last time."
"Right. We're not doing this again."
"We can stay away from each other. I like it like this," he said, pressing his face in your beard-burnt neck, inhaling your sigh and perfume. "But I know..." she can't know.
No—no one can know.
He nuzzled into you, and you nuzzled back. Dug your fingers in the fabric of his shirt. "We can still... talk, can't we?" you asked.
Joel's chest clutched and he held you a little tighter. None of you were at fault for the circumstances, so you both deserved some more stolen time. "We'll talk." He kissed under your ear. "We'll stay away from each other. Talk. Friends can talk. We just—we don't do this anymore. And, no one can know it happened."
"Okay." You sounded muffled against his chest, and Joel thought about how he'd miss touching your hair like this. "I'll just — take a while. To be able to look at you and not —" you stopped abruptly, and pulled away to look up at him and show him not what.
Not look at him with eyes that demanded a kiss.
Without pulling him in by the fire in your eyes.
That had been then — July gave him you again. You for the last time.
The next time Joel saw you after that had been a few weeks ago. Sarah invited you to a party during the holidays, and third time was the charm.
You two talked like good, old friends.
The longing in his chest was ridiculous, the whole entire time.
Now—
jealousy looks good on you.
Sarah's birthday was big enough for Joel to have his eyes on you without you even realizing it. From his bedroom porch, Joel saw you walking by the pool between the guests with that set to your jaw. Another friend of Sarah's stopped you and started a conversation, but the look refused to leave your face.
The problem was—there was nothing Joel could do.
If he pulled you aside to clarify that Tess was only a friend, a work friend who Sarah has called 'Aunty Tess' since she was fourteen, he would be wrong.
Rubbing salt on the wound.
What did it matter what Tess was?
You two had a deal.
Gods, Joel was getting too old for this—too old to watch things from a distance, to see the sadness on the pout of your lips and crave to run and kiss it away, to realize when the lights of the party hit your face in the right angles that your eyes are shining and fuck—
He gets back downstairs and leaves the glass somewhere along the way.
No more bourbon for him.
Joel hears his name called a few times. Allows himself to be distracted by conversation here and there. He's good at lying to himself—he's done it often enough by now. Joel keeps himself trimmed from the deep wants and needs that grow like weeds through his bones, even if he isn't sure why.
Something so rich like you — of course it wasn't for him.
What would he do?
You're Sarah's dad. Fuck.
Sarah's father — he clapped the louder, smiled the brighter, and when the candles were blown and she handed him the first piece of cake, Joel wondered if he should feel guilty for going after someone who's close with daughter of all people.
All he could feel was sadness as he saw you disappearing in the crowd after talking to Sarah in hushed tones inside a hug.
Joel needed to find Tess.
He should leave — his house would be the roof for a lot of people tonight and he needed to talk, maybe—Joel started laughing as soon as the thought came to him.
That's how much you affected him.
He leaves in direction of the kitchen, guarded by the commotion around the cake.
Joel had trouble finding people he liked talking to. You spoke with him for three hours as if time meant nothing, and now it got him wanting to talk about you to his friends, spilling all the bits of stolen moments here and there.
The texts he's read so many times he has memorized.
He needs to get those things off his chest if he wants to stop clinging to them— they've been inside his close fists since Joel got his hands on them — on you — and he hasn't let go ever since.
"Dad?"
He places the bottle down on the fridge shelf, happy he was caught before and not during the act. He pops his head out, and Sarah's standing on the door of the kitchen with a look.
"What?"
"I promised myself I was gonna stay out of this tonight, but — is there a reason? Any solid reason why you two decided to stay away from each other since you're both so... clearly happy about that?" she finishes, eyeing the fridge as if her view is made of x-ray, and the bottle weighs twice more in his hands.
Then—"Wait." Joel's brain freezes. "You knew?"
Sarah's eyes widen, and her mouth falls open. "Oh. My god." She blinks once, then covers a burst of laughter with both hands. "Dad. You and she are so not subtle—I thought you knew that I knew — oh my god. It's not because of me, is it? I mean—don't get me wrong, if you two as much as flirt in front of me at first I'm gonna hose both of you like, on the spot, but—I'm ok with it. Obviously. You two are two grown adults, and dad, don't take this the wrong way, but last year was the most I've seen you smile in a long, long time."
Joel needed a few minutes to take all of it in.
Was it just because of Sarah?
No one can know, you'd said. What if you were ashamed of him, too? Of the age difference, and —
"The same goes for her, obviously." Sarah's words pulled him out from underwater. "I've known her for a couple of years, but... last year was definitely happier than the other one."
He smiled. "You're the best, did you know that?"
Sarah rolled her eyes. "Duh."
"Tell Tess I left?"
"Sure." Sarah's smile spread. "She just left. D'you want me to text you where she's staying?"
Joel had already gifted her, but that didn't stop him from walking over to kiss her cheek and smile proudly. "I'll buy another gift."
"You better."
Joel drove all the way hoping to be right.
Hoping it hadn't all been just a fluke — the moment, a chase, a thrill.
He breathed a deep inhale before knocking on your hotel door.
It took a second before he heard your footsteps, and he wiped his palms on his jeans. "Uhm — I didn't ask for room service?" you sounded confused.
And like you'd been crying.
Fuck him. "I know you didn't."
It was him.
You wished you hadn't opened. He looks good — like always, but better. Hair slicked back, thick jacket to shield from the cold and the soft eyes; it's what bought you, and what traps you again.
You're speechless, but Joel helps.
"I just have somethin' to say and somethin' to ask, then I can be on my way. If you want," he adds.
"I thought we had a deal." It's almost like a plaster. A veil to cover the pink hue on your cheeks, maybe. "And how did you get up here without them calling me?"
He lifted his hands — your scarf was in them, and he tried very little to hide his amusement when he explained. "I've lived in this town my whole life. I just told Nina downstairs you forgot your scarf at the birthday party and you left pretty early tomorrow mornin'." Joel looks past your shoulders. "You're not the only one with friends. Can I come in?"
You wonder if it's possible to say no to him.
You simply take a step back, and Joel walks past you.
He feels like an omen standing there in your hotel room. The one you'd gotten because staying at his house seemed impossible.
The one you dreamt about him appearing out of nowhere, just like now.
If you had drunk more tonight, you would think maybe you're out of it.
"I'll keep it short, mostly 'cause I feel like a nerve wreck." Joel clears his throat and turns around to look at you as you close the door behind you. "She knows. Sarah — she uhm, she asked me basically why we're makin' each other miserable."
She knows.
You feel splinted from your body for a moment as the weight of the secret leaves your shoulders.
"She knows?" your whisper is more to yourself than anything else, but Joel still answers.
"Yeah. And also — that was Tess, tonight. With me at the birthday party."
He closed it at that because the rest was implied — you heard of Tess, many, many times.
When you and Joel spoke before Summer and the few times you two spent hours on the phone after long periods of silence in between, Joel told you about his friends. He told you about his work colleagues, about old college memories, about anything you asked.
He waited for you.
Patiently, as you took in the fact that your only worry didn't exist, Joel stood there a few feet across from you with his hands in his pockets, waiting.
And then, "I get if that wasn't the only reason why you said we should keep it between us. But—"
"It was." You were just... flying. Free. You breathed out, weighing a thousand pounds less. So you could have him? "Joel?"
He takes a step forward. "Yeah?"
There's little to be said when both of you move like orbits.
Your arms already know the way around his shoulders. Joel's familiar with the inches of your waist, and more than anything, you missed this, missed him.
His clever hands wrap carefully around your waist, and you abandoned every ounce of worry that this might be a dream.
"What are you smilin' at?" he asks.
Joel asks you that as he molds your bodies into one—the man is nothing but broad shoulders and back, thick arms that act like tentacles on your body that melts into his touch from the get-go.
"I had a lot of dreams like this," you confess. It feels incredible to just say what pops into your mind.
"Well, then let me remind you that real life's better," he mutters, hands already cupping your neck and cheeks.
Joel is the type fo kiss with his whole body.
You have no idea how both of you deluded yourselves into thinking any sort of deal could prevail when you two are made of this:
His hands roaming your throat, squeezing as you cling your legs around his waist and Joel takes the full weight of you on him. The back of his knees hitting the bed, his body and yours falling into a mess and tangle of limbs.
No deal was bigger than the desire you had of jumping his bones whenever he was at close proximity.
You wanted to devour him — you sucked on the fingers he offered with the same gusto your hips rolled against his lap; Joel moaned for you, and he trembled for you, and he smiled for you.
"'m gonna take my time with you — you know I like to take my time, stop grindin' that pretty pussy all up on me," he growls, and you mewl.
Joel is relentless with his touches.
Every time he took you, it felt like a possession.
Like he was carving your body out of marble to keep the curves set in stone — his palms ran through every inch of you until all your clothes were gone somewhere in the room, and he laughed at himself every time you cried out his name in a loud plea for more.
"Please — please just gimme something," you begged.
Joel smiles at you, dropping his pants to the floor. The entire lower half of his face is shining with the slick and sweat from you — keeping his head buried between your legs, your thighs stradling his shoulders and squeezing around his ears — he always started the nights like that.
"I was givin' you somethin'," he replies. Voice low and thick as honey. Just as sweet, too.
He crawls over the bed, naked, and you have to stop yourself from jumping on him until he's on his back. It'd be worse for you afterwards — you learned it the hard way. Joel would milk every orgasm out of you until you blacked out if you kept him from touching your body to his liking before you could do anything, and who were you to complain?
"Need more, Joel," you cried.
"More what?" He palms your calves, and starts smoothing his hands upwards. "Ask for it, baby."
"Whatever you want to give me, just — please."
"Ah. She learned," he chuckles, and kisses the inside of your thighs. They tremble at the feeling of his beard, and he nuzzles his face there for good measure. "I usually wanna see you ridin' my face 'till you're screaming for the heavens, but —" Joel climbs all the way up, cages your face between his forearms and lets his body lay on top of yours slowly. He doesn't give you his whole weight, but part of you wished he did. "I really just wanna be inside you right now."
"Please!"
"We'll have all night, I just—"
He stopped there, but you got where he came from.
It was different.
Knowing you would wake up and he'd still be there — it was different.
Taking him in when you knew he had more to offer and that's what he wanted to give — it made every inch Joel pushed inside feel more real.
He held both of your hands over your head, intertwining his fingers in yours. He went slow, and kept his eyes on you, and you felt less silly about the hours you cried before because you thought he wasn't yours. Because you wanted him to be.
He must sense you getting lost in the what ifs because Joel's talk changes somewhere in the middle.
His praises, always the tether grounding you to Earth while he fucks your mind straight out of it, changes in words and tone. He whispers, "I'm here, baby," in your ear, and it makes your legs hug his waist tighter. Push him inside even deeper. "Fuck — like that. Does it feel good? Is this what you wanted?"
You wanted him. "Yes — want you so bad," you wanted all of him. "All of you, Joel."
That granted you a hand of his letting go of yours only to make a fist on your hair.
It was rare for Joel to lose control, but you loved it when it happened. When he let go of everything and you could see him without anything on — no pretenses, no clothes, no reservations.
Joel started to mumble in your ear about anything, his hips losing rhythm inside of you as he made you ride out your orgasm. He talked about how good you are, how much he'd spoil you, make you his, his his —
You were. You were.
💖 @sakuralikestars — @mostardentily — @thegreat-annamaria — @leiticia — @polyglot-noodle — @casssiopeia — @earthtocharlene — @levylovegood — @dilfsaremyfavorite — @rosymythologies — @lavenderhhze — @gracie7209 — @waywardwolfbonklight — @shadytalething — @sanzusmile —@yesimwriting — @celestialstar111
#usernexusnyx#joel miller fanfic#joel miller fic#joel miller#joel miller imagine#joel miller x you#joel miller one shot#joel miller x reader#joel miller x y/n#joel miller x f!reader#joel miller tlou#tlou fic#tlou fanfiction#joel miller drabble#joel miller self insert#joel miller smut#tlou x you
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Text Me The Details
Modern!Rockstar!Eddie Munson x Influencer!fem!reader
18+ MINORSDNI
cw: gossip magazines, reader being horny on a live stream, cocky!Eddie, drinking, drugs mention
a/n: I kinda want this to be a series? So expect a part two at some point. But yeah this isn't an original idea so, credit to literally everyone who's done this before me. I gave reader a last name because if I have to write y/l/n one more time I'll sob. ANYWAY I hope you all enjoy and let me know if you like this!
WC: 1.2k
...
You are never drinking again. Ever.
Your management would agree after what happened last night. You didn’t mean to spill the secret you’d been keeping. It wasn’t even that big of a deal, however, you had an image to keep up. The party girl, the kind one, the one with lots of friends, the girl who had good grades in college, the one who always donated most of her fortune to various organizations.
Now, every tabloid was writing articles about your celebrity crush.
Party girl and influencer drunkenly admits she’d love to sleep with lead singer of Corroded Coffin Eddie Munson. Sources have said they’ve been together for a while but decided to keep it under wraps.
The dating portion of that article wasn’t true and you silently vow to figure out who the fuck these ‘sources’ were. However, you admitting to wanting to fuck Eddie… did happen. You have no one to blame but yourself.
Now, there are three reasons why you’re so stressed about this. First, even though you party all the time, you were good. You know, like only went out on the weekends, did every single assignment, tutored people on the side, was probably the most unproblematic influencer out there. Second, the last thing you wanted was Eddie Munsons attention. You had this thing where you didn’t want the people you were fans of to perceive you.
Theoretically you knew they did, most of them followed you on social media. But there was a difference between being a fan of someone, and them semi-knowing you vs your actual crush who you own a poster or two of? That makes you want to throw up and pass out at the same time.
But, finally, the third reason this stressed you out was because Eddie and his crew were not good. You know like, partied every single day, smoked a lot of weed and snorted coke off of his groupies and fans. It was all over the tabloids and the band has even posted about it a time or two. You didn’t do that. And if the tabloids caught you doing that, you’d lose everything you worked towards.
“So this is how we’re going to fix it,” Case, your manager, says from where she’s standing next to the fireplace in your apartment. “You’re gonna go back on live and say it was an accident.”
You look up from the article you were reading, eyes finding his. “That is the worst idea ever. I was tipsy not black out drunk. No one will ever believe that was an accident.” You huff, locking your phone, “and I have tickets to their show next week.”
You loved your team, but sometimes they made the most insane comments on how to fix the unfixable.
You stand, pacing the room, “he isn’t one to read gossip magazines. And-and I’m not on the same level as his band. They’re A listers and I’m C list at best.”
Your manager and publicist look like fish after what you said. Anna, your publicist speaks first, “I swear to god if you ever say that again I am uppin your therapy appointments. You hear me?”
You huff, sitting back down on the couch, “I’m not kidding though. I’m not giving up this ticket. It’s one of the few things I’m looking forward to.”
Case answers after rubbing her temples, “you better pray this blows over without him seeing it. You may party but his partying is a whole other level.”
…
The call came two days later, an unknown number popping up on your phone.
You knew, you knew before you even accepted the call who’d be on the other end of the line.
It felt like it started in slow motion, first came the gossip mags with the original story. Then came Eddie following you on instagram. He’d like a few photos and stories you put up. Then came his interview. The interview where he said, “of course I know who she is. I’m flattered really. I hear she’s a sweet girl.”
Now, your phone is buzzing in your hand and you can’t bring yourself to answer the phone.
“Yes just a fucking person. Just like you’re a person. Answer the phone.” You look down at the phone and are thankful it’s just you in your house. You tap the answer button, a fake smile on your face, as you put the phone to your ear.
“Hello?” you use your best interview voice, the one Anna has drilled into you.
You can hear him breathe in before letting it out, long and slow, it’s clear he took a drag of his cigarette. Is he nervous too? There’s no way. Eddie always seemed to be this cool and calm guy, never afraid of anything or anyone. He gets into more fights in a week than you have in your entire 25 years of existence.
“Good afternoon, Miss Asher.” You can hear the grin in his voice and it sends a shiver down your spine, your heart pounding in your chest. “It’s Eddie.”
He didn’t have to introduce himself to you, you’d be able to pick out his voice in a crowded room. But only because you’ve listened to his music so often… only reason.
“Oh! Hi! I’m s-surprised to hear from you.” You cringe at the stutter that came out of you. You had more than enough practice dealing with any situation thrown at you. From the funny to the uncomfortable to the scary. You were trained for this and you were fucking it up. “How can I help you?”
“The band and I will be in town next friday, we’re playing a show.” You know where this is going and it makes your heart beat faster, so fast you’re scared it’ll burst. “I was wonderin’ if you were goin’?”
Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuck.
“I am, actually. Me and a few of my friends actually.” You rub your hands down your sweatpants, nerves making them sweat.
“Oh! Well that is fantastic,” his tone is chipper as hell and you know he’s high. On what, you have no idea. “I was thinkin’ that maybe ya friends and you’d wanna join us backstage. VIP area for the show? What cha think?”
All of sudden you forget how the english language works, your tongue sticking to the roof of your mouth. This is what you’ve been wanting for so long. Well, in your dreams of course. But looking at it from a business perspective, it could bring his fans to your page and your fans to his page. It was kind of a win win. Well, win win lose because then Corroded coffin knows who the actual fuck you are and you arent just some fan. And that, terrified you,
“Heeeeeeello? Are you there?”
His voice breaks through your clogged mind, forcing you to respond.
“Hi, sorry. I’m here! I um I got distracted. But, yeah that sounds great, actually. We-we’d love that.”
“Good! I will have my people call your people, yeah?”
“O-or you can just send me the information,” you say it before thinking and now you really want to punch yourself.
He chuckles to himself, “okay, sweetheart, I’ll text you the information. See you next friday.”
He hangs up before you can say another fucking stupid thing. You press the phone into your hands, foot bouncing on the floor with nerves. You can think of seven different ways that conversation could’ve (and should’ve) happened. One of which was with your entire team, another being with your friends, another being with your parents. Not alone to make a fool out of yourself. Your management team was really going to kill you.
#stranger things#stranger things fic#eddie munson x fem!reader#Eddie Munson x reader#Eddie Munson fic#rockstar!eddie munson#rockstar!eddie x reader#rockstar!Eddie x fem!reader#Rockstar!Eddie x influencer!reader
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your friend's getting married and you were invited. the there of you, actually. you, satoru, and your daughter.
when you met her and her soon-to-be husband, all they could do was to coo and entertain your daughter. because of their excitement, they decided that your daughter will be one of the flower girls.
"babe, don't feed her too much, she might end up sleeping later." you tap his arm as he feds her milk from the bottle.
while waiting for the event to start, you are outside of the church, sitting on one of the benches. satoru's busy catering every whims and wants of your daughter while you constantly check the belongings on the side.
milk, check. extra clothes for the baby, check, wipes, check, etc.
just a moment ago, they dressed up your daughter in a cute baby blue dress that matched her eyes. all eyes were on her, definitely standing out from rest of the guests. and embarrassing to say, she also outshines the bride and groom.
but you can't blame your child having satoru gojo as her father. satoru's full name is actually satoru 'outshines everyone' gojo.
he's famous. start it from the sorcerer world and even in the normal world, where people can't see or detect any curses. he has an amazing record of countless requests, marriage included as a leader of the clan, as a special grade, and a jujutsu technical college teacher.
so, it's not that your daughter who takes upon the known man will be able to make her way out from the crowded heart eyes of normal people.
she got it from her daddy.
"she's hungry, sweetheart."
"yes, i know. but just for you information, she'll be walking to the aisle as a flower girl later.."
satoru kisses you sweetly on your cheek. "yes, yes. i know, mommy. i'll take care of it if she ends up falling asleep, mhm?"
"take care of it, my ass."
satoru just laughs it off. "i promise."
and yes. he took care of it, safely to say, but... you didn't expect your husband to be the one walking in the aisle instead of your daughter as the flower girl.
your sweet daughter in blue is sleeping while she was being carried by her father using an arm. her face was buried on her father's neck and her arms also snaked around his neck.
his right arm supporting her bum while his right hand's holding the basket of flower. the other free hand was picking a pinch of flower petals from the basket and throwing it onto the sides.
this scene alone beat the supposed sweet moment of the groom and the bride and captured the warm hearts of everyone present in the hall.
"aww.. what a cute father and daughter."
"he's handsome.."
"she's so cute. she's drooling cutely!"
"what a handsome father."
"i know, right?!"
you mentally slapped the back of your head for having a crazy husband like him.
you carefully turn your head to look at the reactions of the people of the day. you sigh in relief when they where laughing and murmuring something that them only hears.
fortunately, your friend looks at you and gave you a thumbs up. she then mouths that they were cute.
chuckling at your friend's comment, you turn your attention back to your little family walking on the red carpet.
as he was about to pass your line, he then took his time carefully to slow down his pace and give you a flying kiss in which you slapped away.
the guests, including the bride and groom, laughs at the scene unfolding before them.
"did you just see that?"
"that's hilarious, bro."
"what a funny family!"
"hahaha!"
after all that walking, he finally sat down beside me with a sigh. "see? i took care of it, babe."
"but you gathered lots of attention." you take out your handkerchief and wiped the sweat on the corner of his temple.
"is that jealousy i hear?" he grins teasingly and you pushed the handkerchief on his face a little harder.
"o-ouch.. i was just kidding." he chuckles quitely.
your little back and fort moment was interrupted by your daughter waking up from her sleep.
"m-mhm.." she raises her head from his neck as she yawn cutely.
"mommy.." she starts to whine, making you immediately get her from satoru.
"yes, baby? mommy's here.." you pepper her just woke up state face with some soft kisses.
she then glances around and her attention goes to her empty basket that's supposed to have lots of flower petals. thanks to your husband, it's now empty and gone.
she eyes her father and then the basket and her face scrunches up, building up her emotions inside as she cry.
you and satoru winces at the sounds of wailing inside the hall so you immediately rushes outside to calm your baby down, slightly panicking inside as you excuse yourself from the guests and the bride.
you can only sigh that you're daughter's crying isn't loud at the moment because satoru's busily shushes her in which she obeys slowly.
you mouth 'sorry' and she nods patiently, still continuing the moment of her once in a lifetime.
and that's how your family grabbed, once again, attention from guests on the event that you did not even host.
saw this on tiktok and wrote about it. it was so cute. i was giggling while i was watching it.
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Charlie, Vaggie, Angel, Husk, Pentious, Alastor, and Lucifer x a concerningly unstable, younger reader
@pandaquick
A/N : reader is still written to be 18ish
I took creative liberties with this, so I'm sorry if I've taken that a bit in the wrong direction w this one!
The song 'Mama's Boy' came on while I was deciding where I'll take this one and kinda made me start feeling some type of way/lh
You didn't really specify what type of unstable they are, so I went with depression type presentations for that
Cw: SFW, very slight references to past self-destructive behaviour, gn!reader, platonic, hurt/comfort, found family-ish (in all these except for Alastor's)
Charlie
- When you show up at the hotel, she's absolutely elated to have a new resident! Especially one who's new to hell and thus hasn't built up sky-high walls to everyone due to the harsh climate.
- When you disclose why you ended up here, she's utterly horrified.
- The idea someone could be condemned to this place which reeks of burning flesh at all times for something so stupid is truly exasperating.
- She almost has doubt creep into her mind about her dream when she hears the truth about your being in hell, but quickly flips it into positivity as it means you're easy to redeem.
- As you become closer and start opening up after feeling more comfortable, Charlie quickly becomes very concerned for your well-being.
- Sweeps you into her arms while trying (and failing) to not cry as she hears about the kinds of horrible thoughts going on often for you.
- From then on, if she ever notices you becoming withdrawn or particularly sensitive/unstable she will try to convince you to talk it out with her.
- If that's not something you're into? She just tries to distract you and sweep you along with her as she discusses possible activities for the hotel and other random stuff.
- At some point she starts becoming a caretaker to you emotionally and doesn't really even notice herself start to step into essentially becoming motherly towards you.
- She's just really afraid for you at times and wants to take care of you!
- You're also a fair bit younger than the people around you (including her), so even with you being an adult technically yourself she still slips into that kind of attitude.
Vaggie
- When you show up she can tell something is up under everything pretty quickly.
- She's dealt with a fair lot of mental anguish over the years so she can see the cracks in your mental state even before you feel comfortable openly discussing it.
- Will not approach it with you, but will do indirect things for you to try help you practically like making extra food for you as she cooks or reminding you to drink water if those are things you seem to struggling.
- Vaggie isn't the emotionally supportive type, so when she tries to be it seems awkward. She is genuine about it, though.
- Openly face palms when she hears that you got sent here for something so little. 'Classic heaven.' She'd grumble under her breath before apologising for you being sent to hell for something so stupid. (Confusing you and making her start sweating a bit because she's meant to be a demon not an angel-)
- As you start opening up more and more, she becomes even more practical in helping you out upon actually knowing what exactly you need.
- Feels incredibly concerned upon hearing the true extent to your instability and probably has some angst over not being emotionally warm as she would like to be.
- You two bond over mutual terrible experiences, and she essentially becomes a mentor-like figure to you.
- This turns more personal, though, as Charlie starts mothering you.
- Eventually you're essentially adopted by Vaggie and Charlie - they both work together to try to help you manage stuff and stay stable.
Angel
- Initially he'd be neutral to you most likely, just making the same sarcastic comments (albeit not suggestive. Even he has limits from what he's comfortable doing with his persona)
- When he hears how you got here, he just squints at you with a humourless laugh.
- The idea of someone being mostly non-sinful outside of ONE tiny, idiotic reason ending up in this shithole around people who are horrid abusers, to murderers, to every horrible thing possible is fucked.
- After discovering this, he'd be slightly inclined to be protective of you. Only slightly though initially. He can hardly support himself with his own baggage.
- This changes, though, after he learns of your history of self destruction and overall fragility as a demon.
- It's hard for him. He sees so much of himself in you - especially after just getting to hell.
- Despite his more logical thoughts of not trying to care for you, he does genuinely become extremely protective.
- You're the exact type of person who would be taken advantage of here, and he just wouldn't be able to sleep at night if he didn't even try to divert that from happening.
- He's not really the emotional support type, but he'd try to take your mind off of things with other activities. (Watch this man stumble trying to figure out age-appropriate activities for someone he sees as a kid in comparison to himself even if you're technically a legal adult.)
- In the streets, you have him armed to the teeth next to you at most times. It's funny to think about Angel trying to be scary dog privilege, but he actually is when he wants to be.
- Doesn't mother you or act as a guidance figure to you - god knows he is no good example - but he is gonna take out everyone in this bitch if anything happens to you.
Husk
- The second he meets you, he can see what's going on under everything, but he doesn't approach it at all.
- He's been a bartender collecting sob stories for years. He knows how to spot someone who is cracking under the surface or itching to tell their story or problems.
- He almost feels a prickle of empathy for your situation. Someone so young falling into hell of all places, clearly troubled, is a terrible situation. It's squashed the second he realises that you surely are sinful enough to have ended up here.
- As you reveal that your 'sin' was actually tiny however he curses as he actually now feels bad for you. I mean, come on, you're barely an adult, and you’ve been condemned for your whole afterlife for something so utterly small? He's losing the no heart impression he puts out.
- It scares him a bit honestly, so he avoids you like the plague. He'd rather ignore the pain someone like you being here brings him.
- Unfortunately, that doesn't work out as you come to him after a long day and break down at the counter of his bar. As he offers you an ear, he truly is annoyed at himself.
- Because oh god, he cannot take care of you, but he wants to help you.
- He tries to keep you at arms length as he eventually gives in to his want to try and help you out. Key word: tries.
- He's very rough around the edges in his approach, but he essentially steps in like a kind of really done, grumpy uncle who's always fretting over your wellbeing.
- He hates that he actually gives a shit but he would be incredibly restless if he didn't try to help or make sure you're okay.
- Ironically, he'd be telling you not to drink your problems away. Would be awkwardly giving examples of other coping mechanisms he'd learnt from Charlie's speeches about addiction.
- He's a hypocrite, but he doesn't care. It makes his bitter heart heavy to think of you getting into the vices he uses to cope.
- Also another one who is incredibly protective. Treats you like you're made of glass honestly.
Pentious
- He finds you strange mostly and is probably the most obviously curious out of everyone here about you and how you came to be here.
- Is asking the most questions even if they are tone deaf as it gets. How did you end up here? How did you die? Why are you moderately normal as compared to the other residents? (A comment which gets him a giant 'fuck you' and 'have you looked at yourself?' From everyone else around)
- He prods you into divulging information and is immediately protective of you from the second he learns that not only are you not really a sinner at all, but you are also quite fragile mentally.
- Someone like you should not be allowed to be tainted by hell's climate. He hides it behind him 'looking out for princess Charlie's dream', but he is truly afraid for you, and it's embarrassing to him.
- Is constantly all up in your business and trying to make sure you are well and okay.
- He's so paranoid that you're not alright that checking in on you almost becomes a compulsion for him. You've gotta end up reassuring him that you're just fine and that he doesn't need to be so worried.
- Absolutely a practical caretaker but is also big on physical touch as comfort.
- If you're ever crying or not feeling good, he will get you stuff and then he just straight up wraps his tail around you and pats your hair while telling you it's going to be okay.
- If you're ever out and he's with you, his immediate instinct is to try throw hands with anyone who looks at you mildly wrong. Due to not having his weapons anymore, he gets his ass beat doing this.
- When he's unable to be around you, he's going to have his eggs with you to help you out if you need anything.
- Really does turn into a worried mother over being like a father more than anything.
Alastor
- Unlike the others, he would see you solely as an opportunity.
- There's no cute found-family part here. He will use you.
- It would be so easy to convince you to enter into a deal with him as someone vulnerable and inexperienced with hell. He can see how fragile you are under the surface the second you get to the hotel more then just about everyone there.
- Everyone else would be pulling you away from him because it's so obvious you are nothing but easy pickings for him that it's not even funny.
- Would be very genuinely interested in how someone like you ended up in hell though.
- He got here by murdering and exploiting people in every way possible for his own entertainment. How could someone so seemingly innocent get here?
- Openly laughs when he hears your story of sin. He truly pities you getting sent down into hell with people him.
- You avoid him because you can see his intentions on your own, just as much as the people around you are telling you to stay away.
- He, of course, doesn't let that happen. He just likes to show up and watch you fumble through hell like you're prime entertainment.
- He may sometimes help you, but it's only because he just thinks the sight of you struggling is that pathetic to him.
- It may slowly become more of a fondness for you and your company, but the underlying reason for his kind behaviours to you is nothing good.
- He just wants to own you like an item, see how long it takes for someone so pure as a demon to break, and become just as bad as the rest of them.
Lucifer
- Unlike everyone else who are concerned for you, he sees you and instantly slips into dadTM mode with you, and this only deepens the more he learns about you.
- You almost remind him of how he is with how different you are from all of the other demons, and he feels genuine guilt that someone like you has ended up here.
- If he had never done what he did, you would be up in heaven and not condemned to this hell-hole. He doesn't think you should be down here at all for such a tiny mistake you made in your life.
- When he realises you are also really unstable and vulnerable he's going to be terrified for you.
- Especially with someone like Alastor looming over you at all times.
- He was already getting his shit back together when he began to mend things with Charlie, but he straightens up even more when he meets you and starts growing attached quickly.
- He's initially a bit distant despite his want to try care for you because he's already mending things with Charlie, but Charlie actually encourages him to reach out to you.
- She's essentially your unofficial mum in the hotel, but she's far from perfect at that, so she would like it if he would help however he could.
- Very emotionally supportive with you after he gets to be openly caretaking to you.
- He's still a bit awkward as he's essentially there getting his shit together alongside trying to help you out, but he tries to help wherever he can.
- Will absolutely love it if Charlie, Vaggie, you and him could do activities together for fun.
- He's also scary dog privilege 100%. His worry for you would likely come off as him seeming like he's going to absolutely drop demons and scare the living shit out of them.
Masterlist
#hazbin hotel#hazbin hotel x reader#charlie hazbin hotel headcanons#hazbin hotel charlie#hazbin hotel charlie x reader#vaggie#vaggie x reader#vaggie headcanons#hazbin hotel vaggie#hazbin hotel angel dust headcanons#angel dust headcanons#angel dust x reader#hazbin hotel husk#hazbin hotel husk x reader#hazbin hotel husk headcanons#hazbin hotel sir pentious#sir pentious headcanons#sir pentious x reader#hazbin hotel alastor x reader#hazbin hotel alastor#hazbin hotel alastor headcanons#hazbin hotel lucifer#hazbin hotel lucifer x reader#hazbin hotel lucifer headcanons
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Sitting in their lap (part 1)
Exactly what it says on the tin, how various Genshin characters would react to a reader who just decides to sit on their lap randomly!
Content: Gender neutral reader (referred to as 'you'), described/implied to be physically smaller than most of the characters (simply because I am and that's how I project, but if you'd like an alternate version, send me an ask and I'll whip it up!), pre-established platonic relationships (though this may border into romantic if you consider physical affection to be that way, so be warned).
Characters: Albedo, Al Haitham, Ayato, Arlecchino, Capitano, Childe.
Albedo just sort of... lets it happen. He's got no qualms about you making yourself comfortable in his lap - unless you start to get in the way, in which case he might just politely try and redirect you elsewhere. He isn't particularly fidgety or squirmy, and he finds that the pressure of your weight in his lap actually helps him concentrate a little better, and sometimes he'll let you stay, even long after he's finished up whatever he might be working on. Be warned, though, he may rope you into holding art or writing supplies for him! He doesn't care if others see, he's never really been one to care all that much about what others think or say. If it's benefiting you both, there's no real reason to stop it.
Al Haitham gets pretty irritated the first time you plonk down in his lap like you have every right to sit there. He's almost downright rude about it, making snide little remarks and grumbling to himself about how you're in the way - you may find that he just outright boots you off if you're somewhere where others might see you (especially Kaveh). As long as you stand your ground, though, he'll eventually settle for it, and he may deny it but sometimes he sits a little further out from his desk, just so you have space to slip into his lap and snuggle up to him if you so desire. If you ask him about the sudden change of heart, he'll quote something about how pressure can help the parasympathetic nervous system kick in, and how humans are a social species and how he's read that physical closeness every once in a while is good for physical and mental health. Damn know-it-all.
Ayato openly adores it. He has a lot of paperwork to do on a day-to-day basis, and any excuse to have some silent company is good enough for him. He can be absently fidgety, twirling your hair around his fingers or rubbing a loose part of your clothing gently - he hardly even seems to notice that he's doing it at all. He's ambidextrous, so you have a lot of freedom in how you decide to sit, he's happy to work around you, so long as you aren't too loud or distracting. You may even find that every once in a while when he knows he'll be swamped with paperwork, he might call you into his office and subtly try to goad you into sitting with him (while making it seem as if it was your own idea all along, cheeky thing he is). The pressure and physical closeness of someone else helps him concentrate on the tedious, repetitive papers he works on.
Arlecchino can be... finicky. It largely depends on her mood and what sort of day she's had whether or not she'll allow you to sit on her lap. She's pretty touchy on the days she allows you to sit in her lap, constantly adjusting your position and tugging you closer to herself - if you didn't know any better, you'd say she was actually enjoying this, but she vehemently denies it, citing the fact that she figured you were in need of comfort and she was just trying to provide it, or that she just hadn't switched out of 'working with the children at the orphanage' mode. She may scold you if you wriggle around too much, or boot you off with very little rhyme or reason, so it's a bit of a gamble if you decide to try and settle in with her for the long run.
Capitano silently takes it. No protests, no comment, nothing, he just leans back in his chair and adjusts his position so it's as comfortable for you as it could possibly be (which is surprisingly nice, considering all the armour he wears). He won't complain, even if you won't stop wriggling around or chattering or playing with his hair or the chains that hang off of his plate mail. He quickly gets very good at reading your intent, and eventually he seems to realise what you want the moment you step in the room, and he'll just silently push his chair back and give his thigh a pat like an open invitation. He may occasionally use you as a chin-rest, or wrap his big arms gently around you if you seem to be getting restless, but otherwise he's silent and hands-off.
Childe is a little all over the place. He loves the idea of you sitting in his lap, he loves physical affection, but in practice, he can't stay still for more than a few minutes without his senses going haywire, and it won't be long until he's bothering you, asking you a million questions or fidgeting with your clothes or accessories in a manner that's downright disconcerting. He never gets any paperwork or anything done when anyone else is in the room, let alone so close to him, but he loves it anyways. He'll chatter away excitedly about anything and everything that comes to mind as he snuggles up to you and smiles, glad that you came to him, of all people, in your quest for affection.
Please don't repost, steal, copy or otherwise plagarise my writing! This includes posting translations to other sites.
#genshin x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin imagines#genshin self insert#my writing#genshin headcanons#genshin fluff#platonic genshin x reader#albedo#albedo x reader#genshin albedo#arlecchino#genshin arlecchino#arlecchino x reader#ayato#genshin ayato#ayato x reader#kamisato ayato#capitano#genshin capitano#capitano x reader#childe#childe x reader#ajax#ajax x reader#al haitham#al haitham x reader#alhaitham#alhaitham x reader#sitting in lap series
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I got randomly recommended this video by YT and wrote a ginormous comment in response because I have no self control, apparently, so I thought I might as well also share my thoughts here in regard to whatever is going with THIS FUCKING SMILE
(under a cut to not clog y'alls dashboards)
(the first part of the comment here is a direct response to some of the ideas put forth in the video, it is very short so give it a quick watch for more context if you want)
Imo it's not necessary to look into overcomplicated theories that rely too much on off screen shenanigans to explain the smile, for how amusing the idea of them having swapped during the kiss is (like, the kind of stuff I won't want to be actually canon, but I'll be very happy to see explored in fan fics lol)
I think to fully explain that smile we have to take in consideration multiple factors:
This show is very purposeful in what it does and doesn't, well... show. That last shot is very long and I think the fact that Aziraphale's and Crowley's expressions in the aftermath of their disastrous break up is shown in such a manner tells us a LOT about the state of mind they might be at the start of S3, and the obstacles they'll have to face. Aziraphale doesn't immediately smile, rather he seems to look almost shell-shocked for most of the shot; it's clear (to me at least lol) that the quiet ride up the elevator is finally giving him some desperately needed time to fully digest everything that happened, because too much has happened in an extremely short amount of time, and we all know Aziraphale doesn't do well with speed lol.
But, for how much he can sometimes be a complete moron, he is smart, and all he needs are just those seconds of quiet to properly ponder on everything, on the choices made and the ramifications of said choices, and that's how we get to smile-- I'll delve into what I think Aziraphale is going through in his mind in more details later, because I also think it's necessary to focus a bit on Crowley's own expression, since the both of them are so intrinsically linked that the narrative cannot make sense without taking the both of them into account.
Crowley's expression is much more static and doesn't change the way Aziraphale's does; he looks profoundly tired in ways we've never seen him before. I don't think he's giving up on Aziraphale, and I fully believe the fact that he stood there and waited for Aziraphale to disappear in the elevator, the both of them sharing that last look, was a quiet message: He'll never give up on Aziraphale, he'll be there, waiting. But wait is all he can do for Aziraphale, now, because he can't follow where Aziraphale is going.
For how messy and full of heightened emotions the confession + kiss are, I think actually denying Aziraphale's request was a HUGE step forward for Crowley's character. He's never been able to deny Aziraphale, he always went back to him after every fight, and we all know how stupidly whipped for Aziraphale he is and how he'd empty the ocean with a spoon if Aziraphale asked him nicely-- But to actually put his foot down and say "no, I cannot do this for you" when asked to all but renounce the person he is now? Especially with how Aziraphale is all but begging him openly? That's a huge step, and something I think Crowley desperately needs to mature as a person (or, well, person-shaped being). We all love how Aziraphale has him wrapped around his little finger I'm sure, but we also all know that if they truly want to build a strong, healthy relationship they also both need to be able to keep their individuality and to put forth adequate boundaries about what they are willing to do for each other within reason.
Asking Crowley to come back to being an angel when he's made blatantly clear for six thousand bloody years how much he despises Heaven is not a 'within reason' request, innit?
So, yeah, for how heartbreaking the break-up was, in a sense Crowley needs it. They both do. They both need time apart to figure their own shit out, dismantle all those unhealthy habits they had to adopt in order to be with one another as safely as they possibly could while still 'employed', and then come back together with a clearer mind and a whole deal stronger than before, both as individuals and as a couple.
And I think how tired and downtrodden Crowley looks in that last shot is a precursor to this process, just as much as Aziraphale's smile is... So, let me get back to our favorite angel and what I personally think is going on with him.
I think to properly contextualize that smile we need to look at not just the happening of those infamous last fifteen minutes, but of S2 as a whole, and what Aziraphale does in it.
So, what is Aziraphale doing during S2?
At the start he seems to be more or less comfortably settled in his current life; he's as happy as ever doing what he's always done, enjoying humanity's creativity with his books and his music and his food and drinks, seemingly content to be puttering about in his bookshop (which is a stark contrast with Crowley's homelessness and his kinda adrift and depressed attitude). Of course then Jim!Gabriel throws a wrench right into that, but imo I think there was a lot more going on behind the facade of Aziraphale's well ingrained habits.
Sure, he still has all of his familiar comforts and his routine, but from the moment we see him interact with Crowley I saw a deep restlessness emerge in him: The panicked look he launches Crowley when Nina asks him about his 'naked man friend', the way he speaks with Crowley with all those 'our' he uses, the blatant way he keeps reaching over and touching Crowley-- To me that suggests that Aziraphale is clearly not as happy as he seems to be on a superficial glance. He clearly wants more with Crowley, wants to bring their relationship to the next step, but because the both of them are so deeply entrenched in their unhealthy coping mechanisms and habits and their inability to openly communicate it doesn't even occur to Aziraphale to just... You know. Take the first step, actually say something about it. So he just keeps throwing bait after bait in the water, hoping Crowley will bite and be the one taking the initiative as he's always done, finally allowing Aziraphale to accept said initiative, this time around.
Of course, we all see that Crowley doesn't take any first step, which is probably something deeply frustrating for Aziraphale at a subconscious level. That's how we get the ball; sure, on the face of it it was Aziraphale's way to make Nina and Maggie fall in love, but... Was it, really? Let's be real, for how entirely believable it is that Aziraphale makes up the lie about Nina and Maggie's love to cover for their miracle is, since we've seen him being anxious around other angels, I don't think for a second that had Aziraphale just stopped and spent three minutes thinking about it he wouldn't have found a way to convince Muriel that Nina and Maggie were, in fact, in love, especially with how 'green' Muriel is about humans.
I fully believe that Aziraphale is not properly thinking during S2, period. He's frustrated by his inability to bring his and Crowley's relationship to what he wants it to be, and that frustration and single-minded objective is utterly obfuscating his thought process. There are plenty of moments he seemed almost manic, imo, which I read as another sign about his 'impaired' (allow me the term) state of mind as of S2.
So, yes, the ball: On the face of it something to actually turn his lie to the Archangels into truth, but deeper down, perhaps almost unconsciously, I think Aziraphale sees the ball as a way to finally make him and Crowley happen. That fact that he's taking pointers about romance from human literature is blatant, and obviously he truly does believe the ball will be THE way to make love bloom.
If you stop and think about it, the ball scene is terrifying. These people are being manipulated to play the perfect background parts to make, what is in Aziraphale's mind, the height of romance atmosphere happen. The fact we get a juxtaposition with Nina's "what the F is going on, am I losing my mind???" rightful attitude underlines this. And I truly believe Aziraphale isn't exerting said manipulation with intent, but rather doing so subconsciously, because he's just so fixated on the idea of having finally the perfect set-up to have Crowley as he desires that he is influencing everything around him. After all, we all know they both have the tendency of making things happen the way they want simply by thinking that's how things are supposed to happen.
And again, he's so manic and giddy when he asks Crowley to dance, his ass is not LISTENING. He literally needed a brick thrown through a window to snap out of it.
So, in the present we have an Aziraphale who , in his own way, is trying to take the initiative, come out with plans. There is a moment that I think might have slipped under the radar of a lot of people but that's frightfully important about who Aziraphale is at this point in the story, and who he will need to become: "I have a plan," Aziraphale said to Crowley during the stare down with the demons outside of the bookshop after the ruined ball; Crowley didn't even seem to have registered that sentence at all, because his mind is already projected forward and going a mile a minute about what to do to keep both the humans and Aziraphale safe in this situation.
Crowley, who loves to swoop in and save Aziraphale, doing what he's always done to keep his angel safe, even to the detriment of their relationship with one another... And Aziraphale, who adores playing the part of the damsel in distress in turn, is actually telling Crowley that *he has a plan*.
That's not something to take lightly, methinks. That's very much just another sign that Aziraphale's individuality is struggling, trying to emerge through Aziraphale's anxiety and doubts and fears and deeply ingrained habits. Aziraphale's cognitive dissonance in regards to heaven, and his shaken faith in God are huge motivators of his actions, and in the grand scheme of things the scant few years he had away from under the oppressive thumb of heaven is nothing. It was barely any time at all in the face of the eternity of an immortal life spent under that oppression, and yet we are already seeing little glimpses of Aziraphale's rebellious side struggling to get fully free.
I think these little glimpses inform us at great lengths about the evolution Aziraphale's character will go through in S3, and greatly explains that strange smile right at the end; in my opinion that smile isn't the smile of someone who's trying to convince himself that he's ok, or realizing that Crowley loves him (he knew already, they both knew and have known for a long time, their inability to properly express those feelings was their downfall, but I don't think either of them has doubted even for a second when it comes to how much they love one another). In my opinion that smile is the smile of someone who is steeling himself for what he envisions in his future; equal parts old-sedated anxiety and yet determination to actually enact plans he's surely concocting in his brilliant little mind. That's the smile of someone who has just realized that not only they can, but that they need to do something, and you can damn well be sure they won't be sitting and twiddling their thumbs waiting to be saved, but they'll be the one saving themselves and everybody else along with 'em, this time.
Just as Crowley needs to actually spend some time define himself as himself, and not just in relation to Aziraphale, Aziraphale needs to spend some time shedding all those fears and doubts that are weighing him down, and emerge the other side someone much more self-assured and ready to do what he thinks is right without all the hesitations that have indirectly been strengthened by Crowley; in a way, by allowing Aziraphale an out with his 'temptations', Crowley had been feeding into those hesitations, and had been holding Aziraphale back from fully maturing, even if not done on purpose, obviously. Imo is very important for Aziraphale's character that he comes to realize that he doesn't need those excuses Crowley gifted him to keep doing what he thinks is right, that he actualizes his own morality properly, and enacts on it.
I don't have the faintest clue about what is going to happen in S3, but I do fully believe the above paragraph is what Aziraphale and Crowley's respective character arcs will focus on. And once they'll come back together they'll be the most power couple that has ever power coupl-ed, and the Metatron will have no clue about what is about to hit him >:)
#good omens#good omens 2#meta#I want Aziraphale to Fuck Shit Up in S3#you think I was joking with that comic I drew some time ago?#I am NOT!#LET AZIRAPHALE FUCK SHIT UP HE DESERVES IT
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Hello, can you do a Lionesses x Teen Reader? where the reader's having a crush on a girl but the Lionesses are not having it. Not in a homophobic way, but just them not liking that you have a crush in general. They tried everything to make your crush go away 'cause for them, reader is too little and too cute for something like that.
The Text Message
A/N: I don’t know why, but I struggle so much with coming up with a title for the fics😭
Lioness x Teen Reader (Reader also plays for Barca)
Word Count: 1,094
You could feel their stares, but continued to ignore them. You were sitting far away from the rest of the girls. Texting your crush, well, trying to get the balls to send the 'I like you' text.
Usually you would sit next to Mary and throw food at everyone, but now you were quiet, in your own little corner, attached to your phone.
You had been doing that for the past two days.
You met your crush after a game with Barcelona; you saw her regularly since she went to lots of them. She was always sitting first row behind the goal on the left side of the field, so it was easy to find her, and you found yourself staring at her a lot during pregame warmups.
You would always have a little chat with her while you signed stuff for the fans around her. It wasn't until a huge win where you scored a hat trick that you gained the confidence to ask her for her number, and she gladly gave it to you.
Then came the texting none stop; you even went to the movies a couple of times together. You didn't know if she felt the same though; you didn't even know if she liked girls.
This is why you were sitting here staring at your phone, deciding whether to send it or not. It wasn't until Tooney and Alessia decided to sneak up on you to see what was dragging you away from the rest of the team.
They made themselves known when Tooney snatched your phone away and read what was on the screen. "hey!" You yelled as you tried getting it back, but Alessia held you back.
"You have a crush?!" Tooney yelled in shock. She swore just yesterday you were ranting about how dating was disgusting.
"Lucy! Your kid has a crush." Lucy looked confused, but walked over and looked at the phone. "Who is this?" She questioned you, "someone." Millie took the phone now.
"Girls, just leave her be," Beth tried to defend you. "It's normal for a girl her age to have a crush on someone," LJ added. At least they understood.
"Who is this?" Lucy asked again, "A girl, Lucy, possibly my future girlfriend. Probably not; I don't even know if she fucking likes girls!" You ranted, "Language, jeez, you see what you're teaching her, Mary." Mary looked offended at Lucy's comment.
"Stop it! Leave her alone." Keira took back your phone and handed it to you. "How much money do you want?" You looked at Millie, who had a serious look on her face.
"What?" "I'll give you whatever you want if you forget about this crush of yours." Keira laughed in disbelief. "Millie, you cannot be serious. It's just a crush!" Millie shook her head.
"She's too young for that!" Rachel joined in. You were starting to get overwhelmed, considering everyone was gathered around.
"You didn't care when I told you about my crush on that character," you told Lucy as you crossed your arms.
"Because there's no chance in hell you would be able to date her, you actually have a chance with this random girl." While Lucy was ranting, you continued to stare at the text.
"I'm sending it." Before you could, you got tackled by two different people, Millie and Rachel. "No! You're too innocent to start dating. She can hurt you," you groaned as Mary took your phone.
You glared at Tooney and Lessi and said, "You two started this; you need to learn how to mind your own business." They both looked offended and shocked by what you said. Chloe and Georgia bursted out laughing as they took your phone to scroll through the other messages.
"So, you've been to the movies with her," Georgia whistled. "What! When?" Lucy looked betrayed that you didn't tell her.
"Like two weeks ago," you shrugged, "and you didn't tell me?" "Look at how you're reacting right now; this is the reason why," you told her as you huffed and stormed out of the room.
Lucy groaned as she watched and turned to Keira, who was giving her a look of disappointment. "What? She's too young to date Keira."
"Oh please, everyone in this room had their first girlfriend or boyfriend when they were like 14, Lucy. She's 16 and just trying to experience new things outside of football.”
Everyone went silent. "We don't want her getting hurt," Rachel told her. "She'll be fine; trust me, Lucy will interrogate that girl to make sure her intentions are good." Lucy smirked and proudly nodded.
"Now go apologize to the kid," they all groaned and left to find you.
—————
You rolled your eyes as you heard a knock on your door. "What?" You said harshly. "Kiddo, can we talk to you?" Mary asked, "No." You stubbornly said, "Come on, open the door; we have your favorite candy." You perked up at that. "Fine," you said, opening the door, and Millie was quick to barge in.
"Hey! Where's the candy?" "We'll get it for you later." Rachel held out her pinky, and you gladly took it.
"We're sorry," Millie started as she elbowed Lucy. "Yeah, sorry," Rachel and Mary nodded. "And we'll support the relationship," Mary added on.
"But if she does something, we can hire teenagers to take care of her for you. We would, but we're assuming she's underage," Rachel said, but she saw the little smirk on your face.
"She's your age though, right? I know your into older women." You blushed at that and nodded. "She's 17." "17?!" Mary shouted, "Mary, I turn 17 in like a month, and she just turned 17 a week ago." Mary let out a sigh of relief at that.
"But you have to tell Alexia, and I don't want you going to her house alone," she warned you, and you rolled your eyes but nodded. "And I need to meet her." "You know we're not dating, right? I don't even know if she swings that way."
Millie pinched your cheeks. "Who wouldn't want to be with your adorable face?" she cooed, and you smacked her hands away.
“You’ll be fine; I’m sure she likes you.” For the first time, Lucy was right. She did end up liking you, and now you were taking her out on a date.
Of course Lucy was there to see how she was, and she ended up liking her a bit, but not fully since, according to her, ‘it’s too early to tell how she truly is’.
#woso x reader#woso community#woso#lionesses x reader#lucy bronze#millie bright#rachel daly#keira walsh#lionesses#woso fanfics
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not good enough for you
where you feel insecure because you genuinely feel like you aren't good enough for him, but he thinks otherwise.
{CW!!: suggestive, mentions of reader wearing a skirt/dress but gn, different types of insecurities, js know you are stunning with all of that baes <3}
characters: ayato, childe, cyno, diluc, tighnari, and wanderer
- set in modern au for a few, ~1.2k words in total -
ayato: pillar of fortitude
you being insecure just influences his spending habits on you. it increases tremendously.
of course he'll comfort you, give you attention, all that jazz, but him?
he buys even more things he thinks you'll look absolutely lovely in.
dress shirts, dresses, skirts, shorts, literally anything that he might think you'll like he'll get it.
you walk out of your shared bedroom with your hands behind your back and your gaze cast to the floor timidly. ayato nearly choked on the boba he was drinking when his eyes laid on you. the way you looked up at him with your eyes all the way to how you stood, he thought you looked ethereal. "my love, how could you be insecure when you look so lovely?" he pulls you into his arms, hands going down your waist. "are you sure? " you mumbled, your eyes focused on the ground. rubbing over your hip dips before cupping your ass, ayato used his other hand to make you look up at him. "you have nothing to worry about.. let me spoil you."
childe: tartaglia (did my man WRONG)
he honestly thinks you're joking when you first tell him, that's how good looking you are.
he hypes you up a LOT more than usual, making sure you feel extra special before anything.
being so fr, he's the type to comment first and most under your instagram posts
most definitely brags about you on his socials as well, has a highlight for you and everything
cyno: judicator of secrets
"childe, why am i getting hundreds of notifications? from YOUR account?" your boyfriend shrugs as if he doesn't know what he did, replying with a simple, "just making you feel good, that's all." after going to the notifications, your heart gets more and more full as you read the compliments he paints your phone screen with. they all came with such love and adoration which varies from "THATS MY S/O RIGHT THERE YOU GUYS!!!" to dumb pick up lines that have you rolling your eyes. you smile softly as you like every single one of his comments, pinning one at the top of your post. despite his cheesiness, you know from all of these that childe truly does think you're the prettiest.
his jokes slowly turn into cheesy pick up lines about how pretty you are, like those REALLY bad ones
its sort of misleading at first and makes you think he's doesn't care, and trust me he does! he's just bad at words of affirmation
not to mention, i believe he tells you you're so pretty and amazing and beautiful and just EVERYTHING in bed
he's totally up for fucking you in front of a mirror to get it through your head about how pretty you are
when he walks into your small shared apartment after a grocery run, he sees you staring into the mirror. you're poking your stomach fat around your belly button, sighing softly. he comes up behind you, kissing your neck softly as he wraps his arms around your hips. cyno digs in his pocket to pull out a small card, before saying, "good thing i have my library card, because i'm checking you out." you look up at him with an attempt at a deadpan, which morphs into a moan as he starts touching your hips, slowly going lower. "if you can't understand how gorgeous you are, i'll make sure you know by tonight."
diluc: the dark side of dawn
he would for sure be such a good person to talk to about your insecurities to and receive comfort
i think that when he was younger, he was also a little insecure about his appearance because of his hair and eyes, since it wasn't normal (i js know that when kaeya came around he got less and less insecure as he grew up but THIS ISNT ABT THEM.)
he would kiss every insecurity and go on rants about how much he loves them, because he loves every part of you
for the sex life? things like stretch marks make him go FERAL. literally all of your beautiful insecurities make him FERAL
as you let out a small moan, diluc spreads your legs open and start kissing up and down your thighs. your stretch marks were more prominent in the moonlight coming from the window, and that alone made him hard. "you're so beautiful my dear.." he took his finger and traced over them. when you looked down, your eyes widen to see him, looking at them like how people look at constellations in the sky. looking at them with such admiration, diluc kissed them over and over. "so pretty.. let me make your pretty body feel good."
tighnari: verdant strider
he would 100% accidently turn it into a lecture about self-confidence and would go on and ON
after knowing about your insecurities, he would bring flowers from his research and give them to you, they reminded him of you
although he would comfort you plenty, he is one sassy ass fox so he would be very sarcastic when you do bring yourself down
he would list all of your achievements while calling you the dumbest person he's ever met
"yeah you are pretty dumb now that i think about it." your heart dropped as those words came out of his mouth. before you can say something, tighnari continues. "it's not like you won the nationwide botany fair for sumeru or anything." your lips formed a pout as you spoke, "but you were my partner! of course we got won." he rolled his eyes before looking at you with a deadpan expression; "did you forget i was sick the whole time? you had to do it by yourself." a shy "oh" left your lips while his arm wrapped around your waist. "have more confidence in yourself you big lummox."
wanderer: eons adrift (named kunikuzushi for convenience)
he's like tighnari in a way, but much more heavy on the sarcastic and snide comments
he can't really comfort you because he can't even believe that he's good enough for you
tries his best though, always makes an effort to compliment you, even if the compliment is very choppy
isn't the best person to go to for insecurities plaguing your mind but it's nice to be around him anyways
you yelp in pain as kunikuzushi flicks your forehead out of annoyance. "shut it, you're giving me a headache." you sigh, "i'm being serious kuni, i really don't think that i look good enough for you." as your teary eyes dart to the ground, you feel his arms wrap around you. "you are so annoying.. of course your good enough. more than good enough you dumb fuck." you smile a little at his harsh words, knowing that's his way of comfort. while trying to stop your tears from falling, you couldn't hear his soft words in your hair. "you're so fucking pretty, i hate when you say otherwise dumbass."
written 3/20/23 || credits go to me || asks open <3
#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin x reader#genshin comfort#genshin scenarios#genshin ayato#ayato kamisato#kamisato ayato#ayato x reader#cyno x reader#cyno imagines#genshin cyno#genshin childe#childe x reader#tartaglia#diluc ragnivindr x reader#diluc x reader#genshin diluc#tighnari x reader#tighnari#genshin tighnari#wanderer#scaramouche x reader#scaramouche#kunikuzushi#kunikuzushi x reader#wanderer x reader#genshin scara#scara#genshin scaramouche
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