#not too big of a deal right now cause work is slow so we're only doing 8hr shifts
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very good day, today!
my new apartment place only deals in fucking money orders/cashiers checks for some reason when moving in, and ive never dealt with that so i had to go out and buy one today. my bank flagged it and literally couldnt buy more than the one so i might need to go back tomorrow to go twofers on the deal and do this shit in segments
#not sure if they want x amount for just the move-in fees and deposits and such#or if they want x+ amount for ''move in fees AND next months rent'' included in the money order#if its x+... i have to go back to the store and get another money order tmrrow#not too big of a deal right now cause work is slow so we're only doing 8hr shifts#which gives me time to myself to like make store trips on the way home and such#those 2+ hours REALLY matter and add up daily#also while i was at the store i bought fresh bread and soda and stuff for my T coming in later today (:#forgot to get all that last time so it was good that i went to the store today to pick up those odds n ends too
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Because my most popular post is about weight loss and how it's a crock, I get a lot of questions about various things, including bariatric surgery--just posted the link to the post I did about that--but also Ozempic/Wegovy, the once-weekly injectable semaglutide medication that was developed for diabetes but was found to have independent benefits on weight loss.
I always said that weight loss was like Viagra: when a medication came along that actually worked, it would explode. We'd all hear about it. Fen-phen in the 90s worked, but it was bad for your heart. Stimulants, like meth, may cause weight loss, but they do it at the cost of heart health, and raise your likelihood of dying young. Over the counter weight loss supplements often contain illegal and unlisted thyroid hormone, which is also dangerous for the heart if taken in the absence of a real deficiency. Orlistat, or "Alli," works the same way as the Olestra chips Lays made in the 1990s--it shuts off your ability to digest fats, and the problem with that is that fats irritate the gut, so then you end up with fatty diarrhea and probably sharts. Plus Alli only leads to 8-10lbs of weight loss in the best case scenario, and most people are not willing to endure sharts for the sake of 8lbs.
And then came the GLP-1 agonists. GLP stands for glucagon-like peptide. Your body uses insulin to make cells uptake sugar. You can't just have free-floating sugar and use it, it has to go into the cells to be used. So if your body sucks at moving sugar into the cells, you end up with a bunch of glucose hanging out in places where it shouldn't be, depositing on small vessels, damaging nerves and your retinas and kidneys and everywhere else that has a whole lot of sensitive small blood vessels, like your brain.
Glucagon makes your liver break down stored sugars and release them. You can think of it as part of insulin's supporting cast. If your body needs sugar and you aren't eating it, you aren't going to die of hypoglycemia, unless you've got some rare genetic conditions--your liver is going to go, whoops, here you go! and cough it up.
But glucagon-like peptide doesn't act quite the same way. What glucagon-like peptide does is actually stimulating your body to release insulin. It inhibits glucagon secretion. It says, we're okay, we're full, we just ate, we don't need more glucagon right now.
This has been enough for many people to both improve blood sugar and cause weight loss. Some patients find they think about food less, which can be a blessing if you have an abnormally active hunger drive, or if you have or had an eating disorder.
However, every patient I've started on semaglutide in any form (Ozempic, Wegovy, or Rybelsus) has had nausea to start with, probably because it slows the rate of stomach emptying. And that nausea sometimes improves, and sometimes it doesn't. There's some reports out now of possible gastroparesis associated with it, which is where the stomach just stops contracting in a way that lets it empty normally into the small intestine. That may not sound like a big deal, but it's a lifelong ticket to abdominal pain and nausea and vomiting, and we are not good at treating it. We're talking Reglan, a sedating anti-nausea but pro-motility agent, which makes many of my patients too sleepy to function, or a gastric pacemaker, which is a relatively new surgery. You can also try a macrolide antibiotic, like erythromycin, but I have had almost no success in getting insurance to cover those and also they have their own significant side effects.
Rapid weight loss from any cause, whether illness, medication, or surgery, comes with problems. Your skin is not able to contract quickly. It probably will, over long periods of time, but "Ozempic face" and "Ozempic butt" are not what people who want to lose weight are looking for. Your vision of your ideal body does not include loose, excess skin.
The data are also pretty clear that you can't "kick start" weight loss with Ozempic and then maintain it with behavioral mechanisms. If you want to maintain the weight loss, you need to stay on the medication. A dose that is high enough to cause weight loss is significantly higher than the minimum dose where we see improvements in blood sugar, and with a higher dose comes higher risk of side effects.
I would wait on semaglutide. I would wait because it's been out for a couple of years now but with the current explosion in popularity we're going to see more nuanced data on side effects emerging. When you go from Phase III human trials to actual use in the world, you get thousands or millions more data points, and rare side effects that weren't seen in the small human trials become apparent. It's why I always say my favorite things for a drug to be are old, safe, and cheap.
I also suspect the oral form, Rybelsus, is going to get more popular and be refined in some way. It's currently prohibitively expensive--all of these are; we're talking 1200 or so bucks a month before insurance, and insurance coverage varies widely. I have patients who pay anything from zero to thirty to three hundred bucks a month for injectable semaglutide. I don't think I currently have anyone whose insurance covers Rybelsus who could also tolerate the nausea. My panel right now is about a thousand patients.
There are also other GLP-1 agonists. Victoza, a twice-daily injection, and Trulicity, and anything else that ends in "-aglutide". But those aren't as popular, despite being cheaper, and they aren't specifically approved for weight loss.
Mounjaro is a newer one, tirzepatide, that acts on two receptors rather than one. In addition to stimulating GLP-1 receptors, it also stimulates glucose-dependent insulinotropic polypeptide (GIP) receptors. It may work better; I'm not sure whether that's going to come with a concomitantly increased risk of side effects. It's still only approved for diabetes treatment, but I suspect that will change soon and I suspect we'll see a lot of cross-over in terms of using it to treat obesity.
I don't think these medications are going away. I also don't think they're right for everyone. They can reactivate medullary thyroid carcinoma; they can fuck up digestion; they may lead to decreased quality of life. So while there may be people who do well with them, it is okay if those people are not you. You do not owe being thin to anyone. You most certainly do not owe being thin to the extent that you should risk your health for it. Being thin makes navigating a deeply fat-hating world easier, in many ways, so I never blame anyone for wanting to be thin; I just want to emphasize that it is okay if you stay fat forever.
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im sorry but being a blue lock darling sounds terrifying. you mean a poor soul is gonna have to deal with a lunatic whos high off adrenaline right after winning a game?? hes excited cause he won AND cause now he get to noncon darling as much as he likes, and you know darling is gonna be absolutely destroyed when theyre done. manhandling all the way. esp. if we are talking about big dudes like shoei baro, gagamaru or baichi or the more excited ones like bachira and the monk guy.
Jdkfkeksopc yeeeeee
Like one yandere player is already an ordeal. But imagine being an entire TEAM'S prize/motivation instead. You've got 12 athletes training for peak stamina, all running off an adrenaline rush of winning and seeing you like a gourmet dish presented on a platter.
They're honestly stunned into silence for a moment, and then they all rush at once. They had already worked out a "who goes first/who goes where" plan for when they won you, where the top scorers of that game get you first while the others go based off of lots.
The more sympathetic ones like the monk mutter a hasty "sorry" amid all the others panting and moaning, just because they DO feel a bit sorry that you have to do this. Still...you feel REALLY good...
The stronger ones like Gagamaru and the orange-haired one manhandle you so easily, and they're able to push your legs up and/or hold you by the waist as your main support while he and the others have their fun. Gagamaru's eyes are as wide as ever, which makes his turns more unnerving as he stares down at you. "I wanna use my hands first so she isn't hurting too bad. Hey, you're already really wet...you must like what we're doing, hm? Don't worry, we'll make sure you feel good too."
Ones like Kuon and Bachira who are expert manipulators and creeps, even if they don't have much experience. Kuon especially loves pretending to be the nice guy and make you turn towards him for comfort, only to switch from gentle to rough and fast now that your attention is mostly on him. He'll smirk at the others whenever you cling to him and nod tearfully/beg/whine at all of his "sweet" talking. "Guys, c'mon, we need to slow down a little so she doesn't get too overwhelmed! There y'go. See? We don't want to hurt you. Aw, don't cry. Here, let me hold you. That's it, let it all out...I know, they're all being too rough. Just focus on me, okay?"
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OKAY episode 2!! holiday shenanigans and work kept me from watching it till now but here we go!
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- We got the "you drool when you sleep" (in the wrong spot but still), I can rest easy
- Annabeth just standing around spookily instead of sitting down or feeding Percy nectar / ambrosia is really funny to me
- about 80% sure they had Percy notice the Minotaur horn right away for time issues, but I really liked the slow build up to Percy accepting it all happened, Grover being patient with him and then sighing and giving him the shoe box with the horn.
- Definitely different from the book, Grover apologizing and all. But it's consistent with what the show did so far.
- Lowkey sad we're not getting a shot of Percy looking out at how beautiful the day/camp is, then down at the horn, then being miserable. Not a huge deal, it was just always a scene that stuck with me as a kid, I was hoping it would be included here. Walker would CRUSH it I know!
- I knew from the trailers that CHB is basically all inside a forest afaik, but it's still weird not to have the Big House overlooking the valley, being able to see everything. Especially since they kept Thalia's pine on a hill.
- Percy's annoyance with mr D is on point but it would hit a lot harder if we had seen Smelly Gabe be a drunkard and Percy somehow realizing Mr D likes to drink too -- his initial defensiveness and dislike for him was rooted in his trauma from his stepdad. It still works cause we know he doesnt like bullies thanks to Nancy, but I miss that
- lmao mr Dr just letting Percy and Grover talk it out
- The fakeout with calling Percy son made me ugly snort but I kinda miss how utterly bored he is in the books
- THAT SAID. the sarcastic tone, dismissive behavior, etc, DO remind me of this version of Gabe, so I do like Percy getting mad at him here!! I retract my earlier statement, it's subtle but if you pay attention you might tie mr D's behavior to Percy's stepdad. Still wish Percy looked more /angry/ about it tho.
- again with the happy/funny music tho, am I supposed to be laughing that Percy's miserable?
- hang on I did not follow the marketing all that much but WHY can NO adaptation get that Chiron's horse half is white lmao, is it an animation thing? I DONT KNOW.
- I do like how they used the wine bottle thing at the end to explain the demigods being able do whatever they want, so between that and getting show!Gabe vibes from mr D I quite like this
- Except for one tiny thing: where's Annabeth?
- Mr D literally said Grover succeeded they are SO CUTTING THE COUNCIL THING I AM SO MAD
- ohHHHHh okay NEVERMIND we DO have open spaces, this place looks awesome!! Surprisingly similar to how I imagined CHB except I always saw the cabins not being in the forest, just close to it. I do love how they look tho, I can definitely get used to this. Very cozy somehow.
- I will say this version of Chiron is growing on me after being a little iffy on him in ep 1!
- Luke has a slightly less cool kid, sunny disposition when we meet him but the entire scene at Hermes' cabin was Very Nice! I just miss Annabeth's blushing and stammering around Luke here
- No seriously where is my daughter have you seen her
- Mr D and Chiron playing, presumably, pinochle made me smile. Also the tiger print shirt lol
- hang on HANG ON we have a WHOLE SCENE with the Council of Cloven Elders that has NOTHING to do with Grover's searcher's license?
- I loved the scene with the dryad hinting at Grover being an anxious bean tho, finally some signs of that
- I am? So confused about this. I guess they changed Grover so beyond recognition that they have to give him some unnecessary drama/arc about lying to Percy? Why reveal that Hades has Sally right now - why not let it be a surprise when Percy gets to the Underworld? Why not let Percy agree to the quest, supposedly bc of his father, and later down the line let him confess he's only doing it to try and get Sally back like he does in the book? Why make Grover AND Chiron hide this from him? Unlike everything else, I don't understand the reason for these changes.
- Is... Is it Luke who tells Percy about the nightmares? I could have sworn it was Annabeth - she's definitely the one who talks about the AHDH and dyslexia. WHY are they giving Annabeth's lines to everyone else? I can see this being to show Luke and Percy bonding but at what cost?? WHERE IS SHE.
- ... We aren't getting the training scene with best-swordsman-in-centuries Luke and the disarming maneuver that's gonna come back in the final fight are we.
- Clarisse sadly does not have the same vibes as the book. Also she looks so much older than Percy? Isnt she just 14?
- Interesting that they're setting up Percy catching the gods' attention - at least his dad's rn. If this doesnt lead into the "I'm impertinent" thing with Medusa's head I'll be sad.
- ps I LOVE that Luke is all about glory to be admired and looked up to, and Percy Does Not Care about it at all lol. Delightful way of showing that!
- Okay the first real laugh this got out of me was Percy being disgusting at archery. What an adorable bean I LOVE him
- I assume that's not Beckendorf but I really wish it was him lmao. Also love Luke looking out for Percy here
- Who IS this kid who keeps hanging around Luke? ... Is it Chris Rodriguez? Oh man pls let it be Chris
- UPDATE I CHECKED THE SUBTITLES (bc I couldnt understand which god's name was that) AND IT IS CHRIS I LOVE THIS SO MUCH FAM
- is he- oh my god the burning of the jellybeans to "pray" to his mom OKAY THIS IS AMAZING 10/10 I WEPT I'm officially adding this to the events of the books when I re-read it -- I hope we get more scenes like this!!
- goddddd its such a CLEVER way of telling the audience that Percy falls in love with this place fast, even tho it hurts that the "friends" he's talking about arent gonna stay around
- Interesting change to not have Percy seek out his Dad's approval so much-- I dont mind it, bc I like how they're leaning into how much he loves Sally -- but I wish they hadn't done *away* with it completely, the way they seem to have. Keep both!
- Idk, this dyslexic, ADHD kid who's always been told he's the problem struggling with believing he was too broken to keep his father around, only to later be told he IS his father's son and that Poseidon is proud of him regardless of what the world would tell him... That felt special to me. I hope the workaround this is to have Annabeth call him out on it as she does later down the book, when he sends Medusa's head to Olympus.
- SUCH a good scene tho
- I dont mind that they did this scene at night but I also liked the visual of Clarisse just being Clarisse and dragging Percy to the bathroom in broad daylight lmao. This flows better with the show's pacing tho
- Okay but like why not let Clarisse try to shove Percy's head in the toilet you know she'd be having a BLAST
- Percy looks more scared than angry, he's lacking the whole "they will NOT put my head in there. they WONT" thing. People keep saying Percy is appropriately angry in the show and I'm like THIS is angry?? You sweet summer children
- awwww no "you're dead, punk, totally dead?"- she just runs? How very un-Clarisse of her. Also, no Annabeth around to say she wants him on her capture the flag team?
- Will I have to start putting up missing person poste- NEVERMIND SHE'S HERE FINALLY LOOK AT HER
- the admission of stalking is HILARIOUS but I wish they kept her intro to earlier in the episode, you miss out on a lot of Annabeth's less "cool" moments like stammering around Luke (and I always loved that Percy was immediately aware of it and she glared at him, it was so indicative of their eventual dynamic), biting her nails/barely looking when Clarisse is bullying Percy and getting all wet with toilet-water but taking it like a champ with the capture the flag comment.
- I wonder if the "litter sister" comment is gonna hold up. Even if Luke never develops feelings for Annabeth eventually (which I would prefer, it always felt forced on his side), Percy's jealousy of him and Annabeth's crush on him are important.
- On one hand: I like they're setting up Luke, Thalia and Annabeth this early on. On the other, much like the Minotaur fight, you miss out on a lot of Percy figuring the puzzle pieces out on his own. He keeps getting exposition dumped on, especially with THIS memory in particular! Considering Rick is writing for this, and I feel his HOO series had a lot of the same issues, it's a bit sad to see that bleed into the original series. There was a lot less nuance in the sequels, and we keep consistently seeing the same here.
- But you DO show-dont-tell the conch horn? HAH :'D
- I REALLY wanted Percy to be wearing armor that was a size too big for him I really did
- nOOOOOOo they're cutting Annabeth's blushing and stammering PLEASE don't get rid of her crush on Luke it's IMPORTANT. Let it be one-sided!!! it's okay!!!
- Like I said earlier - they sanitized Annabeth's less "cool" moments, she feels too in control here. I want to see her be a 12yo!
- I just realized- no hounding him about the Solstice either. Did Mrs Dodds even say anything about "it" being stolen? The buildup to the master bolt's theft was SO good. Now she's just generally interested in him, not actively hunting for her quest. We're TOLD Annabeth is obsessed with her quest but we don't SEE how frazzled she is about it, how much she's seeking it.
- Okay, fine. Distracting me with the little fixing of his armor. It's lowkey working and they BETTER link back to this in BOTL or I WILL scream.
- The cut away to Percy flossing got a snicker out of me, tho my Percy will always and forever be a millenial. Also I can imagine Annabeth's face while she looks away from him peeing in the woods lmao
- Bonus: it shows Percy whistling! It better come back with Blackjack in the future!
- No growling from the hellhound?
- Why is daughter-of-the-god-of-war Clarisse taking her helmet off?
- I miss Percy at least trying to defend himself, taking a beating including from the electric spear, and only then telling them where the flag is. He would NOT volunteer the information right away just bc he's surrounded!
- Did they EXPLAIN why Clarisse thinks Percy is a fraud? I don't get it. Why not just leave it to the good ol' "she's mad he pulled a crazy feat like killing the Minotaur, one-upping her without even knowing", instead of having her doubt that he did it? In the book she was more like "yea right like THIS wimp is a Big Tree kid material, like he actually did it" - which felt more just mean of her than genuinely not believing him
- Also, why have Percy run from them- why not set this at the creek that marks the border between territories? Why have Percy run all the way to the canoe lake? Why do ALL OF THAT and not even show him stepping on the water and getting reinvigorated by it? This also takes away from Annabeth having to spy on him-- she's meant to connect the dots here, it takes away from her too
- I genuinely LOVE that they kept Percy catching Clarisse's spear on the edge of his shield, but the way he breaks it is almost on accident. I'm almost offended, this was a HUGE win for Percy and set up how he used the water to defeat her father later own. The choreography grows to be neat, but at the cost of all that made this fight special. Same with the Minotaur and Mrs Dodds. Is this going to be a pattern??
- For how old Clarisse looked, I love how YOUNG she suddenly looks when she screams-- that was a FANTASTIC bit of acting by whoever has been cast as her.
- The flag did not turn blue I am SO SAD
- More importantly: same with Clarisse not realizing it was all a set up-- they stripped Annabeth of THAT bit of smarts too. In the book she's counting on Clarisse being blinded by her need for revenge, she puts Percy right at the border where she can see him alone, and Annabeth knows he'll distract her enough to let her team win just as it helps her figure it out if Percy's the one. But in the show Percy is tucked away in the middle of nowhere and Clarisse straight up says she doesn't care about winning, which means Annabeth's "killer strategy" that Luke is so confident on actually had nothing to do with him- she was just looking out for her own desire to get a quest. I Do Not Like this change at all.
- I wanted to see Annabeth for so long and yet she feels so distant and aloof here, it's so strange. Annabeth is rational but deeply emotional... This reminds me of what the later series did with her, stripping her of a lot of that so she can be the cool leader of the 7 or whatever (the only exception being HoH really) and I REALLY hope they arent doing the same here.
- OhhhhhHHHhhh no I don't. I DON'T like that she pushes Percy into the lake. Not for the books and not for how the show has been handling Percy's character. I think I'll elaborate it in a different post here but. Yea no. This really bothers me.
- Cant believe I'm gonna say this but the movie did the claiming scene better.
- Also they removed the hellhound like WHERE ARE THE STAKES HERE
- I liked Percy's stammering of "I dont know"- how his instinct is to apologize, but... The changed vibes of the claiming scene... the triumphant music, no bowing, Chiron's speech being changed... This was a "the very foundations of your world have been shaken, AGAIN". Annabeth is not meant to be smiling or in control, she's almost speechless. Even Clarisse is meant to be bowing.
- The music and Annabeth's reaction is treating this as a victory when it's not. It's just profound shock, awe and terror at once. Just by people's reactions, you know what a big deal being a Big Three kid is. This is not it, fam.
- "claimed by poseidon" and 5 words later "son of poseidon" is writing my teacher would dock points out of
- ... the episode doesn't end here? The episode should have ended here.
- They ARE EXPOSITION DUMPING HIM WITH NO BUILD UP I KNEW THEY WOULD DO THIS AND I HATE IT. IM SO MAD WHY WOULD YOU DO THIS RICHARD.
- Percy's speech about Sally is great but is undercut by mr D *actually* yelling at him like? Mr D would never, EVER do that. He doesnt really feel like a god here, he'd just show a tad of his divine power and Percy would shut the heck up. Also, Percy accepts the quest because he brought the wrath of Zeus to camp - to innocent campers, and to innocent mortals. Why is he refusing it here? What are you doing to my son? What kind of BS writing is this???
- Grover is actively disobeying a DIRECT order from his primary god (alongside Pan, who hasnt been mentioned at all). What is going on. Again why are we revealing this now. Why are we exposition dumping AGAIN. Why are we taking PERCY'S motivation and spelling it out IN THE FACE of the camp directors, and rubbing our faces on it like its mud?
- This is blood of olympus level writing I went from the SUCH a high to being fuming. delightful.
- OH MY GOD THEY CUT ANNABETH FROM A SCENE AGAIN. WHAT THE F-CK.
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So, I went from genuinely enjoying this episode better even with the changes to being absolutely livid at some of said changes.
Looks like this is gonna be a high highs and low lows kind of story. Well, I'll be back for episode 3 when it releases.
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The Bones are Good
We're in the home stretch of the high times
We took a hard left, but we're alright
Corso sighs as he drags himself back to the apartment that he was staying at on Nar Shaddaa. It’d been nearly two days since he’d been here and almost three since he last saw Leikael. He was praying that she’d come back and was still angry. That would be better then her not being anywhere. They’d had their first big fight. It wasn’t the first time they’d argued, but it was the first one like that. First one over something so serious, the risks they took, the jobs they took, the way men hit on her and she flirted for work, his protective nature clashing with her trauma and free spirit. The way he’d fussed over some girls they’d met from back on Ord.
Yeah, life sure can try to put love through it, but
We built this right, so nothing's ever gonna move it
They’d both been tired, they’d hit each other’s weak points, there’d been yelling and Leikael had stormed out, without even taking her blasters. He’d chased after her, but lost her in the crowd and after a bit of looking, returned to wait impatiently and then worriedly as she didn’t return. After a day passed and no word if she was safe, he’d gone looking again. She didn’t have her blasters, she could have gotten into real trouble on the smuggler’s moon. Now he was back, just to resupply and rearm and maybe check if she was here.
When the bones are good, the rest don't matter
Yeah, the paint could peel, the glass could shatter
Let it break, 'cause you and I remain the same
It was quiet at first but as he moved past the main area to Leikael’s side of this apartment, he could hear the music. He rushes towards it, the lyrics registering but not slowing him, only fueling him to move faster until he burst into the room the music was playing from. There she was, in front of a window, staring out at the city below, safe and unharmed.
When there ain't a crack in the foundation
Baby, I know any storm we're facing will
Blow right over while we stay put
The house don't fall when the bones are good
He should be angry, furious that she’d made him worry, that he’d had to spend hours scared for her and searching the worst parts of Nar Shaddaa to find her. But he’s just glad she’s safe. He crosses the room in a few long strides. His steps making her turn, facing him and smiling that small smile that only he ever got to see. She catches him as he approaches, pulling him into her arms and burying her face in his chest.
Call it dumb luck, but, baby, you and I
Can't even mess it up although we both try
No, it don't always go the way we planned it, but the
Wolves came and went and we're still standing
They rock together silently for a time, wrapped in each others arms and letting the pain and fear and anger dissipate into the air and get carried away in the simple peace of being together. “You’re safe darling. I was so worried.” Corso whispers almost afraid to breathe, to break the moment and send her out into the streets of the smugglers moon again.
When the bones are good, the rest don't matter
Yeah, the paint could peel, the glass could shatter
Let it break, 'cause you and I remain the same
“I’m sorry.” Leikael whispers.
Corso immediately starts to quiet her. “No, no. It’s ok, I shouldn’t have tried to control what we do.” He leans back just enough to take her face in his hands. “I just get so scared when I think of the people we’re… you… are making enemies of. I worry that I won’t be able to have your back, that I will lose you too.”
When there ain't a crack in the foundation
Baby, I know any storm we're facing will
Blow right over while we stay put
The house don't fall when the bones are good
Leikael wraps her smaller, green, such a beautiful green, hands over his. “We’re galactic criminals dealing with the galactic underworld and trying to carve out our own space in it. I can’t promise we’ll be safe, that I’ll be safe. But I’ll always do everything I can to come back to you and the siren. I’m sorry I got so upset over those girls. I… They’re Ord girls, they grew up there. They’re more what you’re used to. They’re more… settled.”
When the bones are good, the rest don't matter
Yeah, the paint could peel, the glass could shatter
Let it break, 'cause you and I remain the same
Corso has to chuckle at her. Of course he was placed with the same value as the ship. He’d long ago come to terms sharing his girlfriend with her starship. It was weird, but he wouldn’t have her any other way. “If I wanted settled, if I wanted a woman like the ones back home, I’d go back home. I want you, exactly the way you are, blasters, temper, hardheaded stubbornness, nose for trouble, all of it. Please don’t run out like that again. Please. Let’s just talk things out. I was so scared, you ran out without your blasters, without backup.” He shakes his head and leans down to place a kiss on her forehead. “I was so worried about you in the streets with no way to protect yourself.”
When there ain't a crack in the foundation
Baby, I know any storm we're facing will
Blow right over while we stay put
The house don't fall when the bones are good
Leikael leans back from him, her usual grin back in place. “Haven’t you learned by now farm boy.” He always knew she was teasing when she pulled out that nickname. She reaches behind her and pulls out of somewhere he couldn’t figure out, a small holdout blaster. “I always have a blaster.” He laughs and picks her up as he spins them. Her arms come up around his neck as they kiss and the cold durasteel against his neck feels like a promise that they’ll be ok.
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We have a few other things happening but the roof is now a big deal just say it all over town and all over Florida and they're evacuation is continuing they were at 23% this morning and then going down and they we have 2% moving and 2% up actually and it'll start moving more people shortly Ford isn't coming in foreigners are coming in and minority morlok. And they're moving it fast and you haven't already started taking their place minorities are taking their place and they're turning it up and it's the wrong thing to do it will bring more and they are the ones who used to stop them and they're stupid maybe not who knows that's pretty stupid it's going on now I have several other things happening, in town they are looking to fire all of the warlock including bja and they're at them and telling them to get out and they are going to fire them from several jobs powerful position and it's a town controller that's one position and they've been trying to get them out of there for a while and it is Brian and no he doesn't know what he's doing and he figured if I don't know what I'm doing it probably makes a problem even we want them out it's so lazy and it's it's moving now meaning there are people who are getting laid off and they're laying each other off just as expected and it is going fast and there's a lot of people thought it wouldn't happen and they thought they would keep it together by saying that we're all together in this and it's not working that way by noon we think that half the people who are in positions of power are going to be fired in Charlotte county and the rest of jobs will follow because they sent the new boss will fire them this group here is very small and have 15 houses in the neighborhood that's it they're trying to build more and they just slow as hell and they won't use fast methods and the roof seems to have slowed down a little and it is because two guys when elsewhere to get stuff no and they might be working I'm pulling out some plywood she doesn't see them the guy and his one guy we have a few other things to do one of them is to make sure things go well and we think that he is up there alone and it's just idiot neighbor who wants to go through the roof so I think the they're going to show up pretty soon.
-there's a few other things going on and we do understand what they are but these are things that are happening now there's a couple of things that we want taken care of and I will tell you one of them is this they're both assholes get some of the things going on around here and we're going to mention them they're firing people
-the firing people from City positions and city offices and you're finding a bunch of them it's a lot of people that they're getting rid of it's a decent size number and people are getting beat up 20% so far today and they're going at it with each other firing each other in the suck because of them firing each other and they know they suck and it's going on probably all day but they will be firing each other and it's a huge deal and they ain't coming back in town there there were Charlotte county positions in town positions alike in town there were about 40 positions that they released the top people from and a few underlings each and really in town it's only like 80 positions and they're going at it mostly trumpsters got fired and they're going to try and return that and everybody will see how they're doing it with a smaller group which is not that great but that's what they're doing it's proceeding now and it's starting to get ugly and it is getting bigger and bigger as the creep is threatening our son on the roof and he's a moron and the other guy's stupid he's going to get beat up and the others are going to beat him up foreigners in minority morelock are coming in and it is also other morlock but they don't have that much law and order in the lives and it's causing them a huge problem here right now we are going to start relieving people of their jobs ourselves too people like John remillard they don't need to be around it's too hard to do things right and he's trying to do things wrong and you never does he gets mad and stress bothering people like this guy is a major major disruption
Thor Freya
Olympus
We'll say Sundays it's got a little bit better we're experiencing some changes and they're not huge but it's going on
Hera
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哇啊啊啊干你娘干我娘干姐妹兄弟的娘，我终于干完这个星期的稿了, 他妈的复活了! 手要残了，屁股要变方形了
I finally finished this week's quota! On a fucking weekend! God fucking damn it I hate working on weekends!
I was so worried that I wouldn't have time tonight to watch my Jujutsu Kaisen! And then maybe I can finish the last two episodes of Pluto? Nah. You're right. We can only handle one episode in a day. And we're near the end, too, so I bet there's gonna be a lot of heart-wringing for you, and way too much information and tangential thoughts for me.
Oh! I can finally reply to some of the messages on Discord (or Discordo..? I don't know. That start-up sound in my sister's laptop for Discord sings it like that). I know I'll talk whole fucking paragraphs again because I can't help it whenever I'm chatting with people, and I have only a few minutes left before I have to do The Chores. And also my eyes hurt. And also my hands hurt. I should find some other time.
Bummer that I lost my diary time to this weekend grind, though. I also lost my study hours, too. It's my fault. I'm just always so slow. Slow in understanding; slow in writing; slow in thinking. Lyi was right; the real reason why I have way fewer books than everyone expected is because I take such a long time to finish one book. Because I don't just read them, I also always make notes. I just have to remember shits, or I can't even say I learned anything at all. Oh, it reminds me of that Junji Ito story! The one about a guy who memorizes every book in his library because he thinks it's the only way to keep them from disappearing to a strange lady. He went pretty mad from it, and his girlfriend kept trying to stop him. But he couldn't! He was compelled to! That story was so hard to swallow! I wonder if Junji Ito realized he had written the perfect allegory to...
Yes! Because I lost my diary time, I'll write here!
I'm glad our Sunday plan for Dollmaking remains because I finished work today. It has been so long! My incomplete Fushi doll has basically started to look un-pristine now, being a felt doll. All that friction causes spotty lint-thingy on their face. I still adore them, but I felt bad that the only time they looked really nice was when their skin had just been done and they were naked. If I were to show pictures of them, I would have to show some of those naked pictures.
Until now, Fushi hasn't gotten his inner shirt right right yet. I've made two by this point, and he's wearing the second trial, but it looks so bad. I have to do it again.
This is so like us, isn't it? Because we like things we aren't actually talented or good at, we keep wasting resources on prototypes. And then because we suck at understanding YouTube videos, or a teacher, or a book, yaddi-yadda, we have to experiment shits and waste even more resources.
I don't even know how to use a sewing machine! Remember that time one of our past selves accidentally made the one at Levi's come up with this burning smell? That was just a practice round! And then Veronica immediately ordered that I shall never perform alterations on any jeans. Hahaha, less work for me! Less responsibility!
Anyway, the original plan the Lyndis of last year had was to finish the doll before That December Convention—ya know the one—so we can bring Fushi along. But I don't know... It's mid-November now and I'm gonna have to remake his inner shirt for the third time. How the hell am I supposed to do the shoes, the parka, the gloves on time... when all of those will definitely need trial-and-error again?
Gah. It's frustrating being slow and talentless.
I know, I know. We came from a long line of talentless Lyndises. Still manage to be useful enough for people despite that; being slow and talentless is not that big of a deal. Could have saved a lot of time and resources though.
But again, in the end, the Fushi doll is for us. And we're definitely talented at excusing our work as "a representation of wabi-sabi" whenever it falls under everyone's expectations!
I still have minutes or so to rest before I do The Chores. But here lies the quandary—what good can minutes do? What is the perfect thing to do in minutes? Getting straight into The Chores is taxing, ya know? It recharges the mind, sure, but it tires the body. The Chores lasts for hours. 3 hours 30 minutes at least. That's longer than... uh... the time it takes for 3pm to become 6pm. That's late afternoon transitioning into the evening. That's long!
I can't take a nap. I'm not sleepy. And a nap risks making you feel too lazy to get up, and then I'll do The Chores too late, and then I'll finish late, and then I'll have dinner late, and then I'll bathe late, and then how am I supposed to watch both JJK and Pluto at night and sleep before 12am?
Oh no. Fionn, I know what you're suggesting, but really?! You know it will take at least 20 minutes! I mean, sure, it relaxes both the brain and the body, but for me, it's 20 minutes at least! Really, I don't know how some people can just do meditation for a measly 5 to 10 minutes. Just the first part of Anapannasatti alone takes 5 minutes for me, if I'm concentrating well that is. And it's just watching my breaths! It's the Tutorial level! It's also both tough and genuinely so booooooring. Until the dreams and the thoughts start to arise, and it becomes training. A boring training.
But if I go over 25 minutes it becomes disproportionately harder to concentrate. The dreams and thoughts become more and more vivid. Optic neurons begin to try bombard themselves with self-made stimuli to prevent other neurons from trying to poach them into their domain, like listening and feeling. I tried opening my eyes and lowering them instead of closing, but that ended up making my brian and I mistake that we're trying to go to sleep.
I high-key think the whole "Maya, King of Illusions, trying to distract the Buddha from Nibbanna" part of the legend is just someone being overdramatic with the way his brain was distracted by his own thoughts and daydreams and stuff when he was trying to focus on his quest for liberation. Heh!
I don't know how some people can meditate for 1 hour or 2 or 3 hours. Why the length? What's there to be occupied about that you can sit there long enough that it's comparable to me doing The Chores?
I should ask you, Fionn! It's much easier for you to go for long sessions because you're not the one who's in charge of the body and the brain. Not like me. And yet you get distracted, too. Differently than I do, but you do. And you feel pain.
Oh no! The minutes are up! I have to do The Chores now! Hahahhah what was the debate even for? In the end, time left me anyway. Time is so impermanent and here I was, fooling myself into thinking it is permanent as I wonder what to do next.
For the Lyndises so ahead in the future they have forgotten, The Chores is the chores done every Saturday late afternoon to evening! Remember? Vacuum the whole house? Mop the whole house? Dust some of the places? And if no one's helping, wash the bathrooms? That's why our room is always kept tidy. Because it saves a lot of time when I have to do The Chores!
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How To Set A Timer That Will Allow You To Be Productive?
A timer is an instrument that lets users set the time they want to be working. If they're working with a simple step strategy, they might choose to set the timer for only 1-10 minutes. Then the timer goes off, and they're free to continue or end.
It's a different option I've never seen before and works exactly in the same way as this.
The Small Extension
You are able to sit and work with no set deadline. Make sure to keep your 9 minute timer close to you. Continue working as normal until you feel the need to quit. The timer can be used to help you if that urge strikes. Tell yourself, "I feel like stopping and I'll set my timer for five minutes. When it goes off, I'll be able to stop."
This method is beneficial for two reasons.
When you begin your work session, you will not be distracted or slowed by a clock that is approaching end or alarms that are going off. When the alarm goes off, you will feel a sense of success and might be content enough to end the session (which might not be ideal if your aim is productivity). The absence of a starting timer gives you plenty of "runway" as you'd like to achieve your goals and enjoy the momentum.
The timer can also serve to reengage you if you feel like abandoning. The main function of timers is to break through resistance by breaking down a big target (I need to be working for 6 hours) into something immediate and straightforward (I will work for 10 minutes right now). If you're feeling uneasy after your initial session, you may use 25 minute timer to trigger a second wind.
McGonigal recommends waiting 10 minutes before giving in to the urge. The same way, working just a few minutes longer is a great method to get more done. By avoiding temptation, you can to focus in a different direction.
Because it is more sustainable and is able to be utilized in different situations, simply being a good person will often outperform drastic measures. It gradually makes you more effective over time.
The Timed Break
Burnout can be a problem if you attempt to push yourself to do more than usual. While it's likely to cause burnout, pushing yourself can cause this. In other words, when you're in need of a break, it's not a good idea to force yourself to continue.
If you are worried about burnout, another way to utilize this concept is to once start a new work session. When you begin to get tired or angry at the work (perhaps at a difficult crossroads) Set your timer for a quick break. Resume work when the break has ended.
This is an excellent way to deal with short-term burnout. Sometimes, I experience this when I'm trying solve a complicated issue... my brain overheats. A quick break can do two things for you.
It gives your brain the chance to unwind and unwind. The term "mathlete" is a sham in every way, but there is some truth to it. Even when we're not working, the brain uses 20 percent of our energy, so when we are actively working on a difficult problem, we may get ourselves exhausted. The idea of taking a break like this is not too different from running a runner who takes breaks between sprints.
It keeps you entertained and happy. Everyone hates bosses who are overbearing However, sometimes we have the opportunity to be the one! You'll likely rebel if you are constantly working too hard.
The main thread of these two strategies is to start your work exercise without a time limit in your mind. If you are tempted to stop you can set a quick timer. The timer could be set to work for another five minutes or to rest for five minutes prior to getting back to work. It all depends on the situation and you. Test both!
The Right Timer
These manual "kitchen timers" are far superior to digital timers because of their convenience and speed of operation. With just a quick change the timer can be adjustable between one and 60 minutes. Digital timers are more adaptable and be used as stopwatches, but for the sake of productivity, those additional features aren't required and the extra required buttons aren't in the ideal.
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pairing: jungkook x reader
summary: But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook.
Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.
wordcount: 15k
genre: summer!au, ex high school classmaters, kinda frenemies to lovers, tattoo artist!&piercing artist!jungkook, popular!reader
rated: m (fluff - smut - angst)
warnings: you broke jungkook's heart you bitch!! , oral sex (m&f), protected sex (shocking tbh), CL as your bestie it doesnt get better than that! idk i dont wanna spoil too much
author's note: fucking finally dude!! i've been writing this since february but school was kicking my ass. now that i finished my exams and mercury is in gemini i was able to finish it. if you read this, i hope you enjoy it!
Inkphoria
You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping the flyer too tightly, rumpling the paper in your hand until you're pretty much sure it's ruined. It's the first day of June, and it's already too hot. The sun and humid weather are causing beads of sweat to form in your hairline and your white tank top to stick to your skin. Your jean shorts didn't feel this uncomfortable a few hours ago and you're sure the heat is causing your mascara to transfer to your eyelids and lower lashline. You've never needed a slushie and a smoke this bad in forever, even if you knew the later would make your parents lose their shit.
Inkphoria
You read it again. Your brain is trying to guess what font its written in, an excuse to try to steady your heart beat until your nerves ease a little and you can finally gather the courage to step into the damn shop. You've noticed a few people passing by giving you strange looks because maybe it hasn't been fifteen minutes. Perhaps you've been unmoving like an idiot in the middle of the street for longer than you want to admit.
Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.
'Its not that much of a big deal. It's not even that painful, trust me.'
You wish you could trust your best friend, but your best friend is also the same woman who assured you Cats was the movie of the year. Yes, not 'Cats: The Musical'. 'Cats', the movie.
'And this could be a great start to get out of your comfort zone and start living your life exactly the way you want to, not the way people expect you to. Not the way your family wants you to, not the way Adam wanted you to.'
But although her credibility could sometimes be questionable - like that time she also told you she'd tried marmite and 'honestly, it's not as bad as people make it out to be'-, you also didn't trust anybody in this world as much as you trusted her. She had always been your entire support system, the only one around you who never sugarcoated, who always treated you as an equal, who was always there for you to help you discover yourself and, at the same time, remind you of who you were.
'And it's gonna look so hot, too.'
That's it. Sticking the wrinkled flyer on your back pocket, your feet finally start moving. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing open the door.
The first thing you notice is that, thankfully, the shop is empty. The second thing you notice is the bright sky blue walls, a green undertone peaking through. Your eyes scan nervously the interior. Frames with tattoo designs and people modeling other different designs decorate the walls, some skateboards also hanging from the ceiling. A few plants in the corner, and two leather couches on either side of the room. Your scanning stops on the counter, where a girl with short, platinium hair and -what you guess is- the eighty percent of her body inked. Face included. She's been looking at you, a smirk tugging at her lips. Her tone is amused when she speaks
"Hi." she says. "You can come closer, you know? We don't bite."
Great. As if you couldn't feel more out of place, apparently you also couldn't look more out of place.
"Sorry." you gulp as you walk forward. "It's my first time doing anything like this."
She laughs this time, but it's not mean. It's not mocking, thank God, and the smile she sends you is as warm as the weather, friendly, luckily helping you calm down a bit. "A virgin, huh? JK's gonna love this." your eyes jump in surprise, but she's fast to wave her hands in front of you. "Just a joke. So, first time getting a tattoo. You have something in mind, honey?"
"Um, no. Not a tattoo. Not yet, I think." you wet your lips, regretting not reaplying chapstick before stepping inside. "A piercing."
"Oh! Cool!" she claps her hands, too excited for your own taste, pulling from under the counter a catalogue. "So, where will it be? Cartilogue? Nose? A lot of people are getting their septums pierced right now, though, so you might-"
"Nipples. Like, one of them."
Her gaze finds yours in surprise, although her face swiftly transforms again into an amiable expression. "Now, that's badass. Alright!" she skims through the pages of the catalogue until she finds the nipple piercing collection. You scratch your head before wiping your forehead sweat-free. "You can pick either barbells or hoops, although barbells heal faster and they don't move around as much. There's different kinds of metal, too. Gold or platinium. If your skin is sensitive, I recommend titanium. It's hypoallergenic and not as problematic."
The blonde keeps talking as you nod your head, a smile making its way into your face while silently thanking her for her easygoing personality. It quickly makes you feel comfortable and stupid for being so terrified of doing this.
Once you decide, settle on the cost and sign the papers, she stands up from the stool she'd been sitting on. "Ok, I'll go tell my coworker. He's been sketching tattoos all morning, it's time he gets to work!" she laughs, but suddenly your smile banishes and your throat shuts down.
"He?" your alarmed tone halts her motions and she looks back at your frightened expression.
He? A he is going to pierce your nipple? You're about to let a random stranger, a HE, see and touch one of your boobs and then pierce a needle through one of your nipples?
"Oh, baby, don't worry. I'd do it myself if I knew how to, but I only do tattoos. Most of our staff are on summer vacation so it's mostly just him and I. If you don't feel comfortable, which is totally understandable, you can wait until september when Minzy comes back and she can do it for you." It's her turn to scratch the back of her head as she adds: "but trust me, we're professionals. He's not a creep or anything like that. He's been doing this for a long time. He won't cross any boundaries."
September? You won't even be here in september. Fuck.
Sure, you could do it when you move back into the city. But this summer was supossed to be the summer. You already decided after your breakup with Adam that there would be no trace of the old you. That it was time to push yourself, to do the things that you've always wanted to do, unapologetically. To find the new you, the real you. To stop being scared.
So after going through you options for a few seconds and taking a deep breath, you make up your mind.
"It's fine. I can do it."
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"JK, sweetheart!"
Jungkook is finishing drawing a Chinese dragon when Mijoo opens the door without knocking. Again. He puts the pen down, rubbing his eyes. It's monday, a slow monday, not much work, and he had hoped it would stay that way until closing time. It's summer and Jungkook hates summer. He hates the heat, he hates being drenched in sweat, and he hates the fact that he can do nothing about it. Because working in the summer is terrible. Summer makes him lazy, makes him want to bathe in a tub full of iced water and not get out until he turns into a raisin and october comes. It makes him irritable. Summer makes him annoyed by people -like Mijoo, even if he loves her to death- and himself.
"I got a girl here who wants a nipple piercing, her first piercing by the way, so get your shit ready and bla bla bla. Straight titanium barbell. Also, don't flirt and don't be creepy. She almost ran away when I told her a male was going to be touching and piercing her tit, be mindful of that. She's too cute, if you want to get her number you should wait until it's done. I think that's it. I'll bring her in in a minute."
Mijoo leaves as fast as she talks, but Jungkook is already used to it. He's already used to the headaches her mouth causes too. He sighs before standing up, tying his too-long raven hair into the best bun he can manage. He washes his hands, sets the table up, sits on the chair and puts the gloves on. He's too busy sterilizing the jewerly when Mijoo comes back with you.
"Alright, my babies. I'll leave you to it." she turns to you. "He'll explain everything, from how the process will be to how to take care of it after it's done." she leaves before saying bye, closing the door behind her, and then he finally turns to you.
Your eyes meet and suddenly everything stops. He almost drops the sterilizing machine, his whole body tensing, going into panic mode as he recognizes you immediatly. His hands shake.
Of course he does. Of course he recognizes his high school crush. The too goody two shoes, too pretentious and too rich, too good for everybody and, most importantly, 'too good for Jeon Jungkook' girl of his high school dreams. Of course he recognizes the girl he had confessed his stupid crush to when he was sixteen. Of course he recognizes the girl who rejected and broke his young and foolish heart when he was a dumb teenager.
It doesn't matter that six years have passed ever since. He still knows every lock of your hair like the palm of his hand. He still remembers the shape of your lips and the exact shade of your eyes. He can still identify the body he fantasized about -and jacked off to- when he was a hormonal teen, now filled in all the right places. Now a grown woman.
Just one look at you after years and years of pining is enough to almost make him faint. And grow a boner under his jeans.
And by the look on your face, your eyes wide and your mouth agape, you recognize him as well.
Dammit.
He schools his features and clears his throat. Forces his body to relax and compose himself, because he's not a teenager anymore. He's also a grown man, who has matured, who now has much more experience with women than he did back then. He had already embarrased himself enough when he was sixteen to be doing it all over again. You're just another attractive girl in a sea of attractive women.
He turns to you. You still haven't said anything. Neither has he.
"Um, you can sit on the table." he manages, motioning to the set up in front of him. He watches you taking doubtful steps until you're sitting down, your eyes avoiding his gaze. He almost forgot you were here to get pierced. Holy shit, you were here to get pierced. To get your nipple pierced.
You're a professional, Jungkook. You can do this, Jungkook. You've seen boobs before, Jungkook. You've pierced nipples before, Jungkook.
Clearing his throat again and forcing his hands to stay by his side, he speaks. "The... The top." your gaze finds his, like a puppy about to get scolded. You look at your top, realization dawning on you. "You don't have to take it off. You can just pull it down."
So you do, pulling the straps of the white tank top down and dragging the fabric down with trembling fingers. No bra. Jungkook gulps as your breasts comes into vision. As perfect as he had imagined years ago. His cock twitches. Round, full, perky and so damn inviting he has to hold himself back from latching onto one nipple with his mouth around it and swirling his tongue over the nub until you're a pretty, moaning, little mess on his piercing tabl-
He closes his eyes for just a second before reminding himself to act like the 23 year old Jungkook he's tried so hard to become. The confident, assured Jungkook he is.
"Okay, this is how it'll go. First I'll clean it and scrub it to get rid of any bacteria." he's so glad he hasn't stuttered yet. 23 year old Jungkook doesn't stutter like 17 year old Jungkook. He's also glad he can pick the alcohol bottle and the surgical scrub without trembling. When he faces you again, you're watching his motions with your lip caught between your teeth. That has him swallowing the lump in his throat.
Making eye contact with him again, you take a deep breath and offer a small nod, so he gets to work. He can show you and himself he's a grown man. A grown man who can pierce a nipple without appearing like it's the first time he's seen a boob in his life. The sooner he does it, the sooner it's over.
Jungkook wets the paper towel with alcohol before carefully wiping over your nub with it. Your back arches, probably from the cold feeling, he guesses. He rubs it a few times before throwing it in the trash can nearby. He avoids looking at how enticing the soft peak is salluting him when he reaches for the marker. He doesn't say anything when he dots it with it, jaw clenched and his dick painfully stiff.
"Lay back." his voice low as he commands, turning away to get the clamp. When he slides closer, he tries to ignore the view: you, with your hair sprawled and your sweaty, shiny skin and your eyes focused on the cieling, nipple fully erect, like the star of one of his most erotic dreams. He extends his free gloved hand before he can stop himself, fingers carefully working the nub until he's sure it's painfully hard. Almost as hard as he is.
You gasp, your back arching again. He stills and looks at you, your cheeks flushed pink. Probably from the heat, he guesses again. Or at least that's what he tells himself. He can't stop himself from wondering how responsive would you be in a different setting, most likely his bed while his teeth play with your breast and his cock dives into-
"You okay?" he studies your face, your eyes not meeting his and instead still focusing on the white ceiling.
"Mhm." you reply with a small voice.
"Relax, alright? It'll be over soon." his voice is as gentle as he can, his fingers mindlessly caressing your breast to try to soothe your nerves. Or maybe it's just because he's a selfish bastard. Whatever it is, he forces himself to bring the clamp to your nipple, securing it around it.
"Take a few deep breaths. This will only take a second of pain and then it will go away." He misses the way your mouth falls open, but he doesn't miss the way your eyes squeeze tight as the needle goes in.
"Ah!" he definitely doesn't miss that either. He goes rigid for a second, because that didn't fucking sound like a cry of painfulness. It's breathy, and whiny, not too loud and, for fucks sake, if that's how you sound when you're getting fucked, he swears to God-
He feels your heartbeat under his hands when he puts the barbell in and then the bandage over it. He takes a look at you, chest moving up and down. And then you take a look at him and what he sees is almost enough to take you right there.
Reddened cheeks, drops of sweat framing your face and those eyes glazed with something he's seen too much in the women he's fucked throughout his life. They're half lidded, mascara adorning your long lashes and almost smudged, looking right through him.
"Jungkook..." and your voice, as you say his name -acknowledging him for the first time since you stepped into his shop, for the first time since you were sixteen-, it's hoarse, almost inaudible, like you just came all over his-
He's on his feet in an instant like he's been burned. "It may bleed for the first week, and it can be really sore. The swelling will eventually come down." he's quickly tidying up the table, a bottle in his hand that he hands to you without looking directly. "Wash it gently with this soap and warm water once per day. Don't touch it. Wear a comfortable...bra. If it gets crusty, clean it with saline. Not alcohol or any other thing you might clean a wound with. The soap I just gave you or saline. Nothing else."
He's pacing around the room as he takes his gloves off and throws them in the trash bin, too agressively maybe, then he keeps rambling, like he's hurriedly trying to make you leave as soon as possible. "Avoid pools and the sea. It takes about six months to a year to heal, so don't... don't touch it, don't play with it or..." he clears his throat, "don't let anyone else play with it. And if it gets infected, come back immediately and I'll take a look at it." which he honestly hopes it won't happen. When he faces you, your top is back on and you're getting off the table.
"Alright, um...I'll do that." clearing your throat, your hand gripping the doorknob. "Thank you."
But right before you can exit the room, Jungkook says your name.
"_____." when you turn around to face him, it takes a few seconds for him to make eye contact from across the room. "It was good to see you."
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"Let me see!"
It's the first thing Chaelin says when she opens the door to her appartment. It's on the second floor, small enough to compare it to most expensive appartments you'd stayed in throughout your life, but big enough for Chaelin, her cat and her -impressive- collection of acrylic nail kits and pairs of high heels. It's also big enough for her to offer you the only guest room until summer is over so you didn't have to, one, stay at your parents' place, and two, find an appartment in a short period of time for a short period of time.
When you left years ago, you did so with the thought of 'never looking back'. You never really expected to return here, of all places. Maybe visit your best friend for a weekend at most, have dinner with your parents on a saturday and then go back to the new life you'd made for yourself on a sunday.
But that was before you'd caught Adam cheating.
Tale as old as time: childhood sweethearts get engaged, move in together, son of a bitch sleeps with the assistand he told his girlfriend not to worry about, and then the brokenhearted girl packs her bags and leaves the cheating bastard begging for her to come back.
You'd be lying if you said you were surprised.
Throughout your life, you'd learned to expect many things, regardless of being sheltered and babied by your family since you were born. Watched too much Maury and Dr.Phil. Too much Gossip Girl to know what the deal with life really is.
So, thankfully, you'd only shed a few tears, mostly because your ego and self steem were slightly triggered. You'd realize long before that your feelings for Adam started to disappear once he popped the question and you said yes. Your love story began as teenagers but soon after graduating, the two of you went on different paths: you'd matured, grown into your twenties while he got stuck at 17 and never stopped acting as such.
So yeah, whatever, break ups are hard. But they're not as hard when the love is gone and the sole reason to stay with your partner is to please your parents. You were also right when you expected your mom to tell you to 'forgive and forget' because 'those things just happen, it's not a big deal, honey'.
But above all things, the last thing you expected to happen when you came back was to show your tits and get pierced by none other than motherfucking Jeon Jungkook.
Jeon Jungkook. Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.
The lanky nerd with braces, glasses and an anime obsession much bigger than his hentai obsession, which is saying a lot. The shy, awkward classmate who'd stuttered his undying crush for you when you were just kids. That one who you had rudely rejected like the bitch you used to be in high school.
But my God, Jeon Jungkook was anything but a kid now.
You were shocked. You were gagged. Couldn't seem to fathom what was happening and what your eyes were seeing. It took you a while to close your mouth when you realized JK was Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie.
With messy black hair, a smoldering gaze free of glasses, piercings adorning both ears, and his right eyebrow,, the braces long gone showing perfectly straight - but still bunny like- teeth. The clothes he wore were loose, all black, but it was impossible not to notice the muscles of his back and arms, covered with tattoos from his hands to his forearms. You'd bet there were more of them underneath the fabric.
It was awkward at first. You didn't know what to do, or what to say. Didn't know if he rememberd you. So you chose to stay quiet while your body chose to react like it had never been in the presence of an attractive young man in it's entire life.
And oh, did it react.
He was reluctant, his old timid demeanor peeking through his newly adopted persona. But as soon as those hands came in contact with your skin, your whole body was lit on fire. Like you were 16 and losing your virginity over again and it was the first time a dude touched your boobs.
There shouldn't have been anything erotic about it -besides the fact that your entire breasts were exposed-, it should've been just a professional procedure. But those gloved fingers touched and pinched and suddenly you were too aware of Jeon Jungkook and the way you were starting to sweat profously, not due to the heat of the season.
You tried to distract yourself by looking at the cieling and not at his gorgeous face. Tried to avoid thinking about Jeon Jungkook and how his mouth would feel wrapped around you. Tried not to think about the way your panties were a second skin to your folds, and how tempted you were to grind your hips until you recieved some sort of friction with the jean fabric of your shorts. You wonder if he noticed you squeezing your thighs together. You hope not.
And then the needle happened. You never thought of yourself as a particularly kinky person. Sex with Adam was boring for the most part and you'd lost your libido for a long time. Stopped thinking about sex altogether. But the pain. The pain mixed with his hand rubbing soothing circles on your breast and his voice, as sweet as honey, guiding you through it. It made you reconsider a lot of things you'd once dismissed as 'weird' or 'deviant'
You swear you almost came right on his table.
And then your eyes connected, you made the mistake of calling his name like a satisfied woman who still needed more, and it was all gone. He stood up like a scared cat, gave you a bunch of explanations about the aftercare that you barely grasped without even looking at you and pretty much rushed you to leave.
So you walked, all the way from the tattoo parlor to Chaelin's appartment, mortified, and completely humilliated.
"Are you gonna let me see or not?" your friend says expectantly as you finally sit down after chugging a glass of iced water. You sigh, placing the glass on the table before carefully pulling down your top. "Oh my God, it looks so cool!" she gasps and you can't help a smile while she studies it in amazement. "Did it hurt?"
"Um, I guess." you keep out the part where you almost orgasmed, obviously, stopping her hand from touching when she reaches towards you. "Wait, no. He said something about not touching it for like six months or a year, I don't remember."
At that, Chaelin's eyebrows quirk up. "He? It was a he? Was he cute, at least?"
"You won't believe this..." looking away for a few seconds, you take a deep breath. "It was Jeon Jungkook."
There's a pause, a silence that fills the room when Chaelin's jaw drops. "Jeon Jungkook...pierced your nipple?"
You close your eyes, bracing yourself for what you're a hundred percent sure is coming.
"Ha..." there it is. "Ha ha..." you still know there's more. "Ha ha ha..."
Chaelin laughs hysterically for about God knows how long, while you keep drinking your glass of water unfaced, your mind drifting back to Guk. Gukkie. Jeongukkie, his tattoos and his stupid gloved hands.
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You know he's here.
Everything was cool, you were doing alright, having a great time with your vodka sprite in hand and your cute white bikini on. Chaelin was by your side, the guys were excited to have you back and thankfully, you'd avoided most questions about Adam and they'd avoided digging too deep into the topic. You'd sunbathed the whole afternoon, kept away from the water like he'd told you and ate the Hawaiian pizza Yoongi insisted on ordering despite Namjoon's and Jimin's complaints.
It's at night, when you're a little tipsy and your cheeks are flushed, that you feel it. You'd barely noticed Taehyung disappearing to let in a new guest.
You don't see him, but you feel him.
You're sitting on the pool tile steps, legs dangling and the water baely reaching your belly to make sure it doesn't touch your very sensitive and newly pierced nipple. Your back is facing the sliding glass doors of Hoseok's house, but the moment you hear his voice, smooth but animated as he converses with Taehyung, your body wakes up immediately, back straightening, goosebumps forming on your arms and nipples tightening against the fabric of your two piece.
You don't turn around, instead opting for downing the remaining of your drink and coming to the realization that, of course, Taehyung, social butterfly who'd always got along with everybody and remained friends with most people from high school, still keeps in touch with Jungkook.
You ignore him when he enters the pool, still peering from the corner of your eyes while pretending to be engaged in Chaelin's and Jihyo's conversation. Your mind sabotages you by taking you to that day a week ago at the tattoo parlor.
To the warmth of his hand, to the few strands of hair that his small ponytail couldn't keep together, to the way his eyes focused on such an intimate part of your body, to the endless ink decorating his skin, to-
Great. Now your bottoms are wet and not due to the water.
You don't miss Chaelin supressing a laugh and her not so subtle elbowing. You glance at her in warning and try to keep calm for the next fifteen minutes until Jin proposes moving to the living room to watch a movie.
"I'm gonna stay here for a little longer, guys." you say, after clearing your throat. You needed some time to gather yourself before being in a confined space with Jungkook.
"Are you sure?" Jin stops by your side to place a hand on your shoulder as everybody starts exiting the pool. "It's Mean Girls! You love Mean Girls! You never miss a minute of Mean Girls!"
Rolling your eyes, you wave him dismissively. "I know every dialogue on Mean Girls like the back of my hand, I think I'll be alright, Jin."
When everybody finally leaves, you take a deep breath, covering your face with your hands in an attempt to get him out of your head. Damn Jeon Jungkook and his irresisitble glow up.
"You okay?"
The unexpected voice startles you, a gasp finding its way out of your mouth and causing you to jump on your seat, heartbeat erratic as you instantly recognize who it belongs to. Your hand grasps your chest as if that would do anything to protect yourself against him.
"Shit, don't do that!" you say, the words almost getting stuck in your throat as you see him approaching you, still submerged in the pool. The more he nears you, the less water depth there is and the more visible his torso comes into view. Wich was exactly what you'd been avoiding.
Because Jeon Jungkook was ripped, as you'd imagined when you first encountered him.
Broad shoulders and strong biceps and chiseled abs and veiny forearms. Drenched hair, a full sleeve of tattoos and water dripping from delicious tan skin and all just so very hard. That paired up with a loopsided smile that does nothing but make you shudder.
"Sorry." he doesn't sound apologetic at all when he says that, the smirk adorning his features telling. "You just seemed a little off." you advert your gaze when he pushes his hair back.
"I'm fine, just...just wanted to be by myself."
"Oh" Jungkook's smile disappears. "I can leave, if you want me t-"
"No!" you're not sure where that comes from and neither does he, judging by the look on his face when your eyes find his. Eyebrows raised and mouth slightly parted, he's as surprised as you and there's an awkward silence for a few seconds. "Um, you don't have to. I mean, it's not my house, you can do whatever you want." you sniff and tame your voice, trying to seem cool and collected like you didn't just practically beg him not to go.
Ironic, considering this was exactly what you had been fearing for the past thirty minutes.
And then he smiles. A knowing smile. A smile that says 'you just totally checked me out and now you don't want me to leave'. A smile that you would have never associated with Jeon Jungkook of all people years ago. A smile that makes you want to look away but still keeps you in place.
"Sure." he says, closing the space between the two of you slowly but still leaving enough distance. "So, how's it going?"
You clear your throat, head high and determined not to let this man, or any man for that matter, turn you into a trembling mess. You're still you and you're not easily shaken by the opposite sex. Or at least that's what you helplessly chant in your head.
"Everything's cool. I'm on summer vacation now," a little white lie, "so I decided to-"
"The piercing." he says, the smile never leaving his face. "I meant how's the piercing."
"The pier- right." you almost miss the step he takes forward, all too aware of his height over yours but thankful for the centimeters that being propped on the stairs added to yours. "It's-" you almost, almost miss his knee touching your knee and him slightly separating your legs with his own inch by inch. Or how your thighs open unvoluntarely to welcome him in and how you can barely find coherent words to speak. "It's doing-" or the way his smile disappears and is instead focusing his dark stare fully onto yours.
"It's doing well." you finally say in a whisper, not being able to bring yourself to be louder.
He hums. "May I see it?" Jungkook wets his lips with the tip of his tongue and the action and his voice is enough to make you nod your head, bewitched.
His movements are unhurried, his hand coming up to tentatively come in contact with the flesh of your clavicle. His fingers skim through your skin upwards, his touch is feather-like when it wraps around your throat. You pant, and he stops but he doesn't move away, his eyes still focused on yours, studying you, daring you to pull back, to tell him to back off. But just a simple touch of his and you're fully under his control. It reminds you too much of the day you got that damn piercing.
Your lips are parted and for a moment he stays just like that. His body so close to yours but not close enough, and his hand slightly gripping your neck. Your pussy clenches around nothing and you can't wrap your head around the fact that something so simple sets your entire being alive and leaves you aching.
Then, as slow as he started, his hand travels from the front of your neck to the back, pushing your hair aside to carefully untie the straps of your bikini. He breathes through his nostrils, doesn't make a sound. He seems so collected it's starting to annoy you.
Instead, your breathing is ragged when the top falls down, exposing both your breasts to him. That's when he removes his eyes from yours and his jaw clenches. Your nipples perk up under his gaze, like they remember him and the effect he had on them just a week ago. You're at least glad you're not the only one affected but he seems to be a master at keeping it under wraps.
Then, his hand moves again, leaving goosebumps on your skin as it goes south. Jungkook takes his time, so deliberate you want to scream, until he's cupping your pierced breast, keeping away from the nipple just like he'd advised you a few days prior. You can't look away from his face, from his eyes observing you like you're a full course meal and he's been starving for days. You feel drops of water falling from his hair to your thighs, his thumb caressing your skin so delicately as it faintly nears your still tender nipple. Just nearing it, never touching it.
"Beautiful." his murmur is almost imperceptible and for a moment you think you've imagined it. Your back arches on its own, breast pushed against the palm of his hand, almost like your body is begging him to come closer, to touch you more, to feel you all over. He meets your eyes briefly, gauging your reaction, before going back to your chest. Suddenly, the grip on your breast tightens, fingers ever so softly squeezing your flesh. From your throat comes a mewl, your eyes shut and your legs close around his waist.
"Jungkook, please..." you whisper when you open your eyes. He looks at you, unvertainty written all over his face, lips bruised as if he had been biting on them too hard, gaze as glassy as yours. And just like that, the spell is broken. He blinks and his expression changes completely. Lips forming a straight line and jaw tight. His hand retracts, fixing your bikini top over your breasts before tying it around your neck like it originally was. Meanwhile your eyebrows crunch in confusion. But when you're about to start asking questions, he clears his throat.
"It's healing okay." he steps back, avoiding your eyes. "I'll see you inside."
Jungkook leaves the pool like nothing happened.
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Jungkook is fiddling, fixing the position of his glasses and combing through his straight hair with shaky hands, habits he's tried so hard to get rid of in his sixteen years of existence but still finds impossible to.
He can't help it. He's always been like this: the quiet and awkward kid in class who sits in the back, a misunderstood puppy in a sea of stronger dog breeds that could eat him alive. An outcast. Too geeky for his own good. Notebokes full of Dragon Ball doodles on the margins of the pages, the shelves in his room stacked with Marvel figurines, and a closet filled with outdated clothes that he has been inheriting from his older brother.
He has never been the type to stand out, always being overlooked by people like he's invisible. He doesn't mind though. He'd much rather be ignored than getting picked on by bullies like he used to in elementary school.
He never gets invited to parties. Ever. He's a nobody who barely speaks, and when he does he either stutters or manages to embarrass himself in one way or another. He's seen the look on people's faces when they look at him. Their eyes seem to scream 'weirdo' everytime he gets acknowledged.
So obviously the only reason he was invited to this particular party had a first and last name: Kim Taehyung. The only kid in Jungkook's entire life who didn't look at him in a funny way, the only kid who took the time to entangle in a random conversation with him after class and who seemed geniune enough to make Jungkook feel comfortable.
He's not sure how it happened, since Taehyung mostly hangs out with the cool kids. But somehow it did, and now Jungkook is uncomfortably standing in a living room full of drunk teens, looking directly at you.
You, the one girl Jungkook had been pining on for God knows how long. You, who are obviously too pretty, too popular, and way out of his league. You, with your plaid skirt and your polo shirt and those legs that never seem to end. You, who are sitting with your friends in a couch, drink in hand and visibly tipsy. And yet, he doesn't think he's ever seen anyone pull of the 'drunk-rosy-cheek' look better than you.
He can hear your laugh through the music and he already thinks it sounds better than whoever is playing in the background.
"Come on, Gukkie! Her friends are leaving and she's all by herself now! It's your chance" Taehyung's obviously drunk too because it took Jungkook a while to decypher his exact words. He'd disappeared for a while and now that he's back, he's pushing Jungkook in your direction.
"This was a mistake, Taehyung." Jungkook shakes his hair and steps back, quickly glancing at the front door to prepare his escape. But his new friend's grip on his hoodie keeps him in place.
"Guk, listen. The only thing you have to do, is walk up to her, and say 'hey I think you're, like, really pretty. Just letting you know. Bye!' That's it. Jung- Dude, Guk, seriously, look at me." Taehyung grabs Jungkook's cheeks, squishing them between his hands and forceing him to face him. "You've been crushing hard on her for years, my man. We're graduating and you won't see each other again. What's the worst thing that can happen? Getting rejected?"
Jungkook's eyebrows draw together. "Um, yeah?"
"Exactly! Getting rejected is not the end of the world, bro! It just means keep trying on other girls!" Taehyung releases his hold on Jungkook's cheeks. "I just think you're going to regret not telling your crush she's your crush. Who knows? Maybe in the future you two will get married."
Jungkook snickers, muttering a 'yeah right' under his breath. Still, he can't help the smile that Taehyung's words always seem to pull out of him.
"Now," Taehyung playfully slaps Jungkook before turning him in your direction again. "Go get 'em, tiger!"
"Okay," Mijoo's voice slices through Jungkook's memories. She's sitting on Jungkook's desk, munching on her brownies and looking at her coworker expectantly. "And then what?"
He sighs, running a hand through his hair, sits back on his chair, already feeling the effects of Mijoo's baked goods. "And then I walked up to her, like a damn fool, stutter and all. And I say:" he clears his throat, making an effort to do his best teenage Gukkie impression."'Hey, _____, um, so, I think you're beautiful and I've had a crush on you since seventh grade, haha, just wanted to let you know.'"
Mijoo rolls her eyes, still chewing. "And then what?"
"And then she looked me up and down, giggled, fucking giggled, Mijoo, and said 'Who are you, again?'" Mijoo gasps and Jungkook closes his eyes, trying to force that recollecion out of his head.
"What a bitch." she can't help but laugh before apologizing. Jungkook merely shrugs his shoulders and takes another bite of his brownie. "She didn't say anything else?"
"She said something along the lines of:" he clears his throat again, this time, doing an impression of you. "'That's sweet and all but, you and I... we're not the same. And I have a boyfriend, so...' She said that like I didn't know, like I wasn't aware of the school's it couple! Like I was dumb!"
Mijoo nods. "And now you want to fuck her even more than you did in high school."
"I- No! Well, yes. Fuck, of course I want to sleep with her! But I just... can't."
"Why not?"
"Did you hear anything about what I just told you or were you too concentrated trying to get high?"
It's Mijoo's turn to roll her eyes. "I heard everything you just told me. I just don't understand what the problem is. You two were sixteen. Sure, she was a bitch about it, but Lord knows I've been a bitch my entire life and now I'm not anymore." Jungkook raises an eyebrow at that. "Okay, sometimes I can be nice. But the point is..." Mijoo finishes her piece of brownie before getting off of Jungkook's desk. "It's been, what? Nine? Ten years? People change, JK. You're the best example of that. You want to fuck her and she obviously wants to fuck you too. You're both adults." she wipes her hands on her shorts. "I think it's time you fulfill that high school fantasy of yours."
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You've made up your mind.
And by you, it means Chaelin has made up your mind.
It didn't take long to convince you though. That last interaction with Jungkook cause too many emotions stirring within you. It left you hot, it left you bothered, it left you confused. Sure, it also left you a little bit embarrassed like the first time, but above everything else, that interaction with Jungkook left you absolutely livid.
Because who the fuck did Jeon Jungkook, formerly known as Guk, Gukkie, Jungukkie, and currently known as JK, think he was to come near you, speed your heart rate's up, and then runaway like that?
You've spent days thinking about it. About that face, about that body, about those hands and- shit. You're doing it again.
You've spent days trying to push those intrusive thoughts. Spent days trying to bury what happened. You've spent days trying to keep quiet, not telling anyone about it and just wishing that stupid spark of desire simply went away.
But it has just been simply unavoidable. You haven't been able to ignore the sleepless nights with your brain drifting back to that night and forbidding your hand from slipping under your panties. Or the excessive amount of time during the day where images of him suddenly popped in your head and wouldn't go away, even with you squeezing your thighs to try to make the ache go away.
So you ended up ranting and ranting and ranting to the only person you could confide on, who is obviously your best friend. Your best friend, who's too smart for her own good and knows you too well for your liking. Because apparently your moodiness and snappy remarks couldn't go unnoticed.
And after explaining the fiasco over a bottle of wine -and minutes of endless laughing on Chaelin's part because, again, it's Gukkie you two were talking about and, according to her, this was "the most karmic thing I've ever seen"-, she gave you the best advice an older sister could ever give.
"Fuck him."
"I know right? Fuck him!"
"No. I mean, fuck him."
And now here you are. Right inside that room you stepped in weeks ago, confronting the man in question with the same confidence that has always distinguished you from others and trying to act like the fluttering inside your belly wasn't nauseauting.
"A date."
"Yes."
"You want to go on a date with me." this wouldn't be so hard if Jungkook didn't look so delectable in a plain white t-shirt and ripped jeans. You cross your arms over your chest, doing your best to not look down at the exposed skin of a man who obviously worked out a lot and apparently, never skipped leg day. "What's the catch?"
He's sitting on his chair, back resting comfortably and legs spread, narrowing his eyes at you and probably wondering why the girl at the front desk let you in without an appointment. Also, probably wondering if there was a catch to all of this.
"There's no catch. I just want to go to the fair this weekend. I'll ask Taehyung for your number and text you the date and the exact place we'll be meeting. Unless..." your quirk one of your eyebrows. "Unless you're already planning on how you'll chicken out this time."
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Of course, Jungkook says yes to going on a date with his high school crush but spends the following days overthinking every single thing.
He can't help but feel like it's kinda sketchy. What if you're planning your vendetta on him? What if you don't even show up and he ends up there looking like a damn idiot? What if you hate him and are just messing up with him? What if that incident in high school is going to repeat itself?
"If she doesn't show up, you simply move on and never speak to her again. It's that simple. She can't have that much power over you to cry about something like that." Mijoo had said that same day she let you in the tattoo parlor after you'd asked to see Jungkook. Jungkook's coworker hadn't even question you and just motioned you to Jungkook's room with a knowing smile on her face. Later that day, Jungkook had scolded her about it and she'd simply shrugged.
He considers cancelling, eyes reading the 'won't be able to make it, sorry (sad face emoji)' over and over again and fingers hovering over the send button so many times he's lost count. But then he remembers that comment of yours about him chickening out and Jungkook starts seeing red.
How couldn't you understand he's just terrified of you rejecting him one more time? Sure, Jungkook is now an adult who doesn't get butthurt over stuff like that. He's experienced too much after graduating from high school and he's a much stronger individual than his fragile self back was back then.
But something about you just makes him feel so... weak.
He still finds it impossible to concieve where he got the courage to approach you like that at Taehyung's pool, or how he brought himself to touch you for longer than a minute without coming in his pants. He'd enjoyed it too much. Allowing him to see you so exposed, just for him. He'd be so tempted to kiss you right there and then, to run his hands up and down your thighs and fully wrap your legs around him to let you known how much you'd affected him. Once you called his name, it was like he'd finally snapped out of it and backed away like he'd been burned by you. He spent the next twenty minutes trying to keep himself from pulling down his pants and jerking off in his friend's bathroom.
It's terrible. Because he feels like the teenager he used to be when you're around. Shy, insecure and overall a mess. You showing up in his life after so many years and now apparenly being interested in him seems like a dream that he's not sure he wants to keep being in or wake up from before it's too late and he falls back into that tumoltuous longing that will inevitably end up in heartbreak. His heartbreak.
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It's saturday night, he's standing by himself in the crowded fair at the spot. You're fifteen minutes late and he's already about to turn back and dip out. He feels too awkward and the nerves are eating him alive.
You're not going to show up. You're not going to show up and now he feels and looks even dumber than the time he told you he was crushing on you. You're not even going to show up and now he's going to come back home, get drunk by himself and curse your name for-
"Hey!" he turns around to the sound of your voice and sees you running towards him. "Sorry I'm late! I couldn't find my phone and spent like thirty minutes looking for it. Turns out, Sharon Stone, was taking a nap on top of it and I didn't even notice."
"Sharon Stone?"
"Chaelin's cat."
To be honest, he's too surprised to process your explanation right away. He might also be a little speechless because that sky blue sundress looks too good on your skin and your eyelashes are so long, framing your beautiful eyes, and your lips are all glossy and kisseable that it takes him a while to find his own voice.
He clears his throat. "It's alright." scratching the back of his head, he momentarely adverts his gaze from you in an attempt to not get distracted by how soft your hair looks and how much he wants to wrap it around his hands in a ponytail. "Um, where do you want to go first?"
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Almost an hour and a half later, when the sun has already disappeared and you're both surrounded by colorful lights, Jungkook decides to buy the both of you hot dogs and a drink and you both settle down on a bench.
You've been walking all over the fair, going from booth to booth, playing any game in sight Jungkook dared you to -he obviously had a competitive streak-: from the ballon and dart games, to the shooting games, to the bumping cars, to the ball-in-basket one. To say you were having fun was an understatement.
You'd almost regretted setting the date up. You were sure he wouldn't even show up and if he did, you were scared of how awkward things could get between the two of you. And if things were awkward, you were sure it would only take less than thirty minutes for the both of you to part ways and never talk again about such failure of a date.
To your surprise, none of that happened.
The conversation was flowing, both of you acting like you were strangers on their first date getting to know each other, which, to be fair, that's exactly what it felt like. There was a slight banter, teasing each other when one of you lost in whatever game you were playing while the other was obviously winning. There were laughs and a funny feeling in your tummy whenever you'd walk side by side and his arm brushed yours.
There was no stiffness on his shoulders, no mention of the past or your previous encounters, no acknowledgement of the blatant sexual tension you'd experienced before, not an ounce of avoidance whenever your eyes met his and he was even sure of himself enough to place a hand on your lower back or briefly interwine your fingers with his to guide you through the mass of people.
It felt like you'd both unspokenly agreed on making each other feel comfortable enough to have a good time.
"I didn't think you were going to show up, to be honest." you suddenly say, taking a sip of your strawberry juice and thankful to finally let your feet rest for a while.
Jungkook looks at you, hot dog mid air and eyebrows almost disappearing into his hairline. "You didn't think I was going to show up? I didn't think you were going to show up." you simply shrug, lowering your gaze seepishly, the beginning of a smile on both your faces. He surprises you by tilting your head in his direction with his forefinger. You watch him watching you, a little dazed, a little lost in how his dark hair messily falls over his forehead and his equally dark eyes study your face, his thumb swiping over your lower lip. "You um... There was ketchup right there." he lies.
"Oh" you say, feeling your face heating up. "Thanks. Red doesn't really match this dress." you manage a smile and tuck a lock of your hair behind your ear.
At that, he eyes your dress for a moment, mouth slightly ajar. He's debating on whether or not to say something but you beat him to it.
"I'm sorry, by the way."
"For being late? I already told you it's fin-"
"No." you shake your head. "For... that time when we were young and I was such a concieted brat." you say, looking away , trying to find anything else that's not his pretty face. "I thought I was a queen bee back then. I was annoying and rude, specially to you. I..." you lick your lips. The cherry glittery gloss was already gone. "I thought it was cute, what you said. There was no reason for me to act like that. I know this doesn't make anything right but..." when you turn to face him again, there's still the same expression on his face. "I'm sorry."
A few seconds go by before it's him who's shaking his head. "It's okay. It was a long time ago, anyway." he smiles at you, although it doesn't reach his eyes and seems sorta forced. You sigh, and he takes your hand. "Let's go to the ferris wheel."
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tell you're tense. You're sitting right beside him in the ferris cabin, your back is all straight, you're facing forward and he believes you haven't blinked for what feels like an eternity. He thinks it has everything to do with your conversation a few minutes ago. You were probably not content with his response but what could Jungkook do? There was really no point in apologizing for something that happened years ago, but at the same time, he didn't want to hold anything against you like a resentful asshole because it was really not who he was. But there was still a little bit of stingyness inside of him and he didn't know how to make it go away.
At the end of the day, here you were, on a date with him that you'd asked for, getting along and asking questions about him and laughing at his jokes and trying to start all over again.
But then the ferris wheel starts moving, and he finally understands why you look so uncomfortable.
It's the way you immediately grip his forearm, nails digging in his skin and he swears he hears the smallest gasp forcing itself out your throat.
"Are you... scared?" he tentatively asks.
You say nothing for a while, not moving an inch. He would laugh if you didn't look so pained about it.
"I don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters." you finally say through gritted teeth.
"It's not really that small and ferris wheels are not rollercoasters. " your nails dig deeper and he winces. "Okay, okay. You don't like small confined spaces nor rollercoasters, and that includes ferris wheels. So why didn't you tell me?"
"I don't know. I've never liked ferris wheels but you seemed excited about it, so..."
There's a silence after that in the environment, neither of you exactly sure of what to say or how to act. Until Jungkook moves one of his hands hands until it's resting on the one who's holding onto him for dear life, fingers caressing yours. The warmth of his hand spreads through yours and although it's almost July and you can already feel your sweaty back staining your dress, it's oddly comforting. What's more comforting even, is him twisting his body towards you and talking with the calmest and most soothing tone you've ever heard.
"Look at me." you do instantly, unwillingly, and kinda wish you hadn't. It's almost as if your body will do anything he says without question. Like he has some sort of power over it to just react however he wants. His eyes bore into yours and suddenly the cab doesn't seem so suffocating. "It's just you and me right now. We're not even on a ferris wheel." the corners of his mouth turn slowly upwards. You zone out the environment, suddenly too aware of him and how close he is and how loud the beating of your heart is to your own ears.
"Jungkook."
You swallow the knot in the back of your throat when he removes his hand from yours. It almost makes you protest, - now realizing you've losened the tight grip on his arm- , before it craddles your face, keeping you in place while bringing his body closer.
"You have to stop saying my name like that."
With his thigh touching your thigh, your whole demeanor melts. When he leans closer, and you feel his breath fanning over your lips, your eyes shut closed.
"Tell me I can-" he starts to say.
"Yes." you finish for him. He doesn't doubt on closing the distance between you two. His lips touch yours and your body shakes in excitement. It's just him lightly skimming your lips with his but it's already too much and at the same time, not enough. It has you deepening it, yourself moving closer when he kisses you again. It has you relaxing against him, the tenseness prior disappearing and making you arch your back when his tongue asks for permission.
But it's exactly then, the moment you open your lips to him, that has you losing your mind.
The sparks fly, traveling from your head to your toes and then settling on the pit of your stomach as soon as the kiss starts to turn desperate and rough. When he nibbles your lips with his teeth, it makes you mewl and whine and your nipples tight against the cotton of your dress. It makes the metal barbell to feel uncomfortable, slightly painful. And when he goes back to being messy and filthy with his tongue tangled with yours, your thighs close on their own.
He forces himself to pull his hand back and bring it down, finding the parting of yd opening them for him. "Wait," you say, your fingers wrapping around his forearm as you try to catch your breath."The ferris-" he shuts you up with another kiss.
"We're not on a ferris wheel." he reminds you, a soft whisper against your mouth. And for whatever reason, you believe him.
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"He fingered you on the ferris wheel."
"Yes."
"And you came before the ride was over."
You take a small sip of wine, your eyes focusing on the TV where a rerun of the Golden Girls is playing, although, to be fair, lately you haven't been able to pay much attention to anything else but a certain brunet with doe eyes and kisseable lips. "Yes."
She hums, stealing a handful of popcorn from the bowl between your thighs.
"How long did it took? Like five minutes?"
There's a pause in which you clench your jaw, your fingers twitching around the glass in your hand, and then you answer. "Probably less."
There's another pause, and then-
"Ha...Ha ha...Ha ha ha-"
You let her laugh. It's okay. You knew you had it coming.
Chaelin knows the pillow you throw right at her face is also something she had coming.
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It's not that you're mad.
Jungkook and you had a great time on that fair date, he made you laugh, bought hot dogs and drinks for the two of you and got you off inside the cab of a ferris wheel on record time with those magical, long fingers of his. Technically, there shouldn't be anything to be angry about.
Except it's been a week and you can't stop thinking about him, about wanting more, and about those words that he left you with after the ferris wheel ride ended, when you had tried to return the favor.
'Next time, maybe.'
And there hasn't been a next time.
The thought of texting him or giving him a call to ask for another date is persistent in your mind. It remains while you do the laundry or wash the dishes, while you shower, while you eat or while you spend your days at the beach with Chaelin. There's always the incessant desire to reach out towards your phone, unlock it and dial his number to beg for more.
But you'd never been one to beg, so you resist the urge everytime that feeling starts to creep up on you and it washes over you like a wave. You silence your phone and try to concentrate on making the most out of your summer.
It's one random night, when you're tiredly dragging your feet across Chaelin's apartment's carpet, yawning and ready to succumb to a well needed slumber, that you see your phone screen's lighting up with a message.
Your heart pathetically leaps inside your chest when you read his name.
'you free on saturday?'
You wish you could say you ghosted him, ignored his text and moved on with your life until it was him who begged you for another date. But the truth is you opened it in a matter of seconds and typed 'i'm free, why?' back in a rush with trembling fingers.
So now you're on the passanger seat of his car while he sits on the driver seat, the first saturday night of July, like he's Danny Zuko and you're Sandy Olsson, watching a vintage movie in a drive-in theater which plot you don't give a shit about, even if Jungkook's date plan idea made something inside of you churn with adoration.
And the only reason why you don't give a single damn about the movie playing in front of your eyes, is because you're hot. Way too hot. And the reason and cause is none other than the boy-now-turned-man sitting on your left.
You barely exchanged words when he picked you up, just rode in silence until you got to your destination and you bet he can feel as well as you do the tension in the air.
You've surveyed him a few times from the corner of his eye, noticing him fiddling with the rings around his fingers and shifting in his seat from time to time. And if the sight of his fingers bring memories that you've tried to bury to keep yourself from lunching towards him, a brief glance at his forearms, adorned with ink drawn through his golden flesh -doing a poor job at concieling the veins running underneath- and his skin-tight jeans wrapping those muscled thighs of his is enough to have you be the one squirming in your seat.
A woman can only endure so much, and you come to that realization thirty minutes into the movie.
"I want to suck your cock." you say, a stern expression on your face as you turn your body in his direction.
Jungkook frozes as your voice slides over him. It takes him a couple seconds to look at you, shock widening his eyes and parting his lips.
"Huh?" he manages, his grip on the steering wheel turning his knuckles white.
Without separating your gaze from his, you gather your hair and tie it in a ponytail with the hair tie previously around your wrist. You don't miss the quick glance he sneaks into the curvature of your neck and the valley between your breasts.
Inching forward, closing in on him, you place one of your hands on top of his thigh, the action making his whole body tense. "____..." he whispers your name in a warning that doesn't sound convincing even in his own ears.
You smile, your eyes never wavering from his as your hand inches upwards, slowly caressing over the fabric of his jeans until you finally come across what you were looking for.
His hand flies to your wrist, stilling your movements. "____, this is not-". He starts, but his voice gets stuck inside his throat when you palm his undoubtly growing erection.
"Shh." your shaky breath fans over his cheek and you force yourself on your knees on the passanger seat in a more comortable possition to stop the trembling to reach them.
You fumble with the belt holding his pants in place, then with the button and finally with the zipper. He helps you by lifting his hips to pull his jeans and boxers to his thighs and you have to bite back a mixture between a gasp and a moan at the sight below you. You haven't even seen Jeon Jungkook naked all the way, but the mere sight of his hard cock with pre-cum glistening on his crown is probably the sexiest thing you've ever had the pleasure of appreciating.
It gets sexier when you wrap your hand around the base and his body melts in the driver seat, throwing his head back with his eyes shut. It gets even sexier when you finally lower your head, swirling your tongue over the head before finally engulfing him fully in the wet warmth of your mouth.
"Shit." his voice is tight, uneven as his hand loosely grips your ponytail, as if careful not to accidentally hurt you and break the glorious moment.
Although you wouldn't mind at all. Because the moment your hands are on him, and your tongue is on his shaft, that's the only thing you care about. Your belly is twisting, an undeniable wet spot on your panties as the fabric sticks to your folds, and the more you suck Jungkook, the more you want from him. His earthy taste is addicting and the soft little whimpers he occasionally can't prevent himself from are making you want to milk him until he can't take it no more. There's this desire within you to whorship him and his cock like you had been dreaming for the past weeks.
"This is s-so fucking h-hot." he rasps between ragged breaths, the bobbing of your head, sliding up and down his dick as your hand works the centimeters your mouth can't take is about to make him faint.
"Getting a blowjob?" you joke, your throat starting to feel sore as you kiss his leaking tip.
"N-no." he draws in a rough breath when you take him all of him again. "You giving me a blowjob... T-the f-fact that anyone c-could see us..." he darts a quick glance at your body, your ass up in the air and your dress sliding down, almost exposing you completely. "The fact that-ah! Shit..." he squeezes his eyes when he feels a glob of your spit lubricating him.
There's a sudden need to make you feel the same, to touch your skin and have you shaking the same way you have him. So one of his hands travels from your spine, to your perked ass, finally dragging the cotton of your dress to allow himself to see your thin white panties. "The fact that anyone could see you l-like this," he murmurs, regaining a little bit of control when he squeezes one of your cheeks. "letting t-them see you s-sucking my cock and..." he smirks when he feels you gasping around him, his fingers trapped between your thighs and pushing them inside your heat easily "and letting them see me fingering this pretty little pussy."
Soon after that he's cumming in your mouth while you're cumming around his fingers.
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At first, it's mostly on weekends when you see each other. Weekends of stolen kisses and soft sighs and whispering against each other's lips. Then weekends turn to week days, sitting on grass while sipping on refreshing beverages, drawing each other laughs, elbows touching as you walk around the park side by side because the both of you are too scared to interwine your fingers together.
Jungkook feels content like this: sitting on the sand with you between his thighs, admiring the sunset while nuzzing your neck and inhaling your scent every now. He likes waching you enoying your strawberry ice cream, almost forgetting the chocolate chip one already melting in his hand.
"If you were an ice cream flavor,which one would you be?" you ask him, relaxing against his chest.
"Rocky road."
"Why?"
He shrugs behind you. "Everyone likes rocky road."
You hum, playfully rolling your eyes. "What about me? Which ice cream flavor would I be?"
"Lemon sherbet, in the summer."
"Lemon sherbet? Out of all of the flavours out there, you're rocky road and I'm lemon sherbet?"
"Lemon sherbet, in the summer." he corrects.
"Okay, fine. Why?"
"You're boring and basic."
You gasp, trying to feign outrage but not being able to repress the laugh that escapes your throat. You elbow him, his laugh mixing with yours while taking the time to wrap his arms around your form, the breeze blowing your hair allowing him a spot between your neck and your shoulder. "You're boring and basic, but once you have a taste..." he presses a small kiss on your skin, causing the tiny hairs on the nape of your neck to rise. "Once you have a taste, specially on the hottest day in the middle of summer, you can't stop tasting and licking until there's no more lemon sherbet left."
You suck in on a breath when he craddles your jaw to face him. "It's been my favourite flavor since I was a kid." he kisses you immediately after, his lips swallowing the small whimper now stuck in your throat.
You close your eyes as his tongue opens your mouth, arousal blasting your insides and something much, much deeper that you fear to even name shredding your chest.
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The beginning of august comes faster then you two realize, but what you both do realize is how hard it's becoming to stay away from each other.
It's been thirty days of dates happening almost everyday, sharing high school memories and anecdotes of the time you spent away from each other. Hours of getting to know each other and opening up to each other. From failed relationships to new friendships. Of park dates walking side by side and fingers now interwined because you both realized one day that, fuck it.
It's difficult to sleep when you realize you're starting to catch serious feelings for somebody who was just supposed to be a fling. It's hard to sleep when his face, his voice and his touch and thoughts of missing him when you don't see each other start haunting you at night.
It's hard for Jungkook to focus on work when you're everything that's occupying his mind. Because he has a hundred sketches to make but he's too busy thinking about the hundred different sketches he would make of you.
It's hard not to send him a goodnight text, just like it's hard for him not to reply in a matter of seconds, almost as if he was already waiting to recieve it.
Jungkook thinks of you at night. Of how pretty and absolutely perfect you are for him. Of the taste of your lips, the way your hair feels between his fingers, or the flush on your cheeks when he makes you cum as droplets of sweat accumulate between your breasts. He thinks about your voice. He also thinks about the amount of hours left to be able to listen to it again.
But mostly he thinks about how ridiculous this situation is. Because he was stupidly crushing on you when you were only teenagers, daydreaming about a chance with you. And now his crush is long gone and he's starting to realize that he's falling, and falling fast.
You, too, think of Jungkook at night. Of his ability to bring a smile out of you, to soothe you with just a few words and filling your belly excitement, happiness and feelings you're sure you've never felt before.
Jungkook's managed to imprint himself in your dreams, and you, in his.
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Getting drunk with Jungkook is fun and messy.
It's fun because he lets loose, he stutters a lot like he used to do when he was a teenager and he makes you laugh louder than ever before. It's messy because he has no control over his hands as they explore your body, clumsily taking your clothes off as his mouth laps at the breast he's allowed to touch.
He's more forceful and dominating too, pinning your hands above your head, and commanding you to keep them right there, on the pillows of his bed. When you rebel against it, your fingers finding the hard planes of his chest, he pulls away from you and places them back where he left them. "Don't make me tie you up." he threatens, and your body shudders beneath him.
He sucks, and bites and leaves marks all over your skin, grunting in response to your moans. Creating a path of kisses from your lips to your stomach, his shoulders separating your knees, opening you up only for him. And thankfully, when you reach down to tug at the strands of hair framing his face, he lets you, because he knows you need something to hold on to the moment his tongue eats you up. He leaves his fingertrips on your thighs as he keeps you in place, not allowing you to runaway. Just forcing you to take it as he takes from you.
And when you cum, he doesn't back away. He keeps sucking, and licking and punishing you with his mouth until you're cumming over and ove again, screaming and begging for his cock.
Having Jungkook over you, both completely naked, skin to skin and only sweat in between is more than you could've ever fantazised about. He slurls your name when he puts the condom on. He would do anything to feel you raw, but he also knows he wouldn't be able to last a minute. The sight of you spread open, with your cheeks darkened by a crimson blush and your hair tangled all over his pillow is a picture he wants to keep forever.
He enters you when you call his name, your voice dripping with need. He stretches your warm and wet felsh, slowly easing himself into you at first, until he's fully inside and your bodies are completely in union. A shiver runs down Jungkook's spine when he looks at your contorted face in pleasure, your lips forming an 'O' and your pussy clenching around him.
"Oh, my God." you moan into the dark of Jungkook's room, and even then, he can clearly appreciate every curve of your body lifting off the mattress to connect with his. He lowers himself on his elbows on either side of your head, caging you in and capturing your mouth with his.
"I know, baby." he murmurs. It's hot, in the middle of August but suddenly Jungkook doesn't hate summer as much as he used to. Not with you sharing the heat with him. "It's way beyond what I could ever imagine." You nod hurriedly against his lips, your arms finding their way around his neck as he starts rocking in and out of you.
"It's too good." you cry, when he hits a particular spot that has you rolling your eyes in bliss and gripping his waist tighter with your legs against you. Your fingers thread through his hair, not bothered by the beads of sweat gathered on the nape of his neck.
"Too good..." he agrees, not missing the shiver that's shaking your own frame when he picks up his speed. "You have no idea what I would do t-to fucking feel you with n-no barriers between us," his movements become frantic as his hips slap against yours, his jaw clenched as he keeps talking, "to s-stuff you full of my c-cum over and over again until it won't stop d-dripping."
Jungkook's voice against your ear has you trembling and your orgasm nearing closer, your nails scratching down his back as his thrusts overpower your form. "Would you like that?" he asks with his voice strangled.
"Y-yes. Anything y-you want."
"You'd take all of my cum like a good cum-slut?"
You hate the fact that that's what makes you come undone. The twisting and knotting in the pit of your stomach finally snapping until you're holding on to him like you never want to let him go and he's following soon after.
Because if Guk, Gukkie, Jengukkie was not only able to make you come in less than a few minutes with his fingers or his tongue, but he was also able to make you cum instantly just by calling you a good cum-slut, that means you're fucked. Like, really, really fucked.
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There's a knot in Jungkook's stomach and a suffocating grip around his vocal chords as he caresses your skin. The sun is rising in the distance with the first rays of light entering his room through the window. Your shamphoo is intoxicating him, numbing him and enticing him to bury his nose in the tangled curls pressing against his chest. Your arm is thrown across his stomach, your breathing leavig goosebumps all over his body.
"It's too early. Go back to sleep." you mumble against his heart. He wonders if you can feel it dangerously speeding up.
"I can't." he says, voice struggling to stay balanced. "I have to tell you something."
You hum in response, sleep still interwined with your body, your arm tightening around him. You sigh in content, expecting him to elaborate.
He wets his suddenly dry lips. "I don't want this to end. In fact, ____.... I want more. Need more."
"Jungkook..." your whole body goes rigid right away, untanglling your bodies from each other and sitting up on the mattress.
"No, listen to me." he mimicks your movements, rapidly grabbing your hands to make you look at him. His eyes are expressive, a mixture of fear and hope swirling in his dark irises. "I wake up everyday, and you're the first thing I think of. I go on about my day, and I keep thinking about you, wondering what you're doing and counting down the hours until I get to see you again. I spend every night dreaming about you, and when we'e together, the only thing I can think about is how I wish I could stop time so I don't have to say bye to you the next morning. ____, I-"
"Jungkook, stop please." you shake your head, pushing away from him and in desperate need of air. You press a hand against your chest, beating back the throb of pain while the other curls in a tight fist, the feeling of your fingernails digging into your palm less painful than the ache inside your heart. "This... This wasn't supossed to happen, Jungkook." you start pacing around the room, as if trying to find an exit while avoiding his gaze. "This was just a summer fling. That's all it was, I'm supposed to come back to the city in two weeks and-"
"A summer fling?" a sardonic sneer comes out of him. "Oh my God, I can't believe this is happening again..." he mumbles to himself before rising from the bed. You stop immediately, a shiver quaking through you as his impressive frame intimidates His eyebrows are drawn together and his dark eyes are void of any prior emotion. "You're going back to the city in two weeks? And you didn't care to tell me until now, after I just spilled my guts to you?"
You eyes fill up with uncomfortable tears, reaching one arm towards him. "Jung-"
He flinches, taking one step back. "A summer fling is all I mean to you?"
"Ju- "
"Look me in the eyes, right now, and tell me that's all I mean to you. A summer fling." panic crawls up your throat. There's the need within you to confirm, to stare into his beautiful and stern eyes and tell him that, yes, that's all he is to you. But you've never been a good liar. So nothing comes out. You opt for wrapping your ams around yourself wishing they were his and lowering your eyes to the ground. "I think... I think you should leave."
Those are the last words he says to you, and the last thing you see when you turn around one more time after gathering your clothes, is his back as he looks out the window.
You allow yourself to cry the exact moment you step into Chaelin's apartment. Your friend is sitting on the couch, bowl of cereal in hand and a fresh cup of coffee sitting on the livingroom's table.
"Hey, you're early tod- Baby, what's wrong?"
"Please, don't laugh."
That morning, you lay down for hours on the couch with your head on Chaelin's lap while she softly brushes your hair as you cry, hiccup, fight through the pain in your heart and relate to her as best as you can the latest events.
She doesn't laugh at all.
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"She'll come back." Mijoo's slurred words do nothing to put Jungkook's state at ease that night. He simply shrugs, fingers clenching at his sides, frowing into his drink before gulping down the bitter taste of vodka in one shot. "Seriously, I think she's just afraid. My ex was the same."
"Comparing her to your ex is not the analogy you think it is."
"Ugh, shut up. Things didn't work with my ex because she was a bitch." Jungkook gives Mijoo a pointed look which she responds to by rolling her eyes and sipping on her rum coke. "Your girl is not a bitch. She used to be a bitch. What she did this morning was bitchy, but, like I said, she's just being a pussy. If she only wanted sex with you, she wouldn't have been doing couple stuff with you the entire summer."
"Whatever. I don't care." he lies and Mijoo knows he's lying but decides to drop the subject fo now.
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"We can't keep spending our days smoking weed." Chaelin speaks over Blanche's voice on the TV.
"I know. I'm just sad."
"You have to come back and tell him how you feel."
"I know."
There's a beat of silence before your friend kicks your thigh with her feet.
"I know and I will." you mumble through red eyes and smoke clouds.
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It's September first and it doesn't feel like Jungkook's birthday at all. He's been trying to focus on his work, alternating between isolating in full hermit mode and hanging out with friends to drink away his sorrow. The days have gone by and before he could realize it, he woke up today with over twenty text messages wishing him a happy day and a throbbing hangover.
He dresses up on autopilot. First a cotton shirt, then a pair of jeans and lastly, his Nike's. He doesn't bother tying his sneakers just like he doesn't bother taking a shower. He smokes a cigarette for breakfast, the death stick making him feel nauseaus on an empty stomach. And then he goes to work.
He's been repeating the same routing for the past weeks and he's not thinking of changing it, not even on his bithday.
He spends hours drawing, tattooing and drawing some more between yawns. He ignores texts an phone calls and simply waits until the day is over to go home, go to bed and forget about the fact that you're probably on your way to the city and that he hasn't crossed your mind not even once.
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Inkphoria.
You've been standing outside the shop re-reading the word for fifteen minutes, although it definitely feels like it has been longer. You're gripping cup of ice cream as it melts down your fingers the more you wait. The shop is already empty and it's starting to darken out side, and still you're so hot. Your shorts are heavy and your tank top is sticking to your skin. You didn't even bother to put on any make, although your eyebags definitely needed some concieling and your lashes some dimension to hide the fact that you'd been crying for the last few days.
'You're crazy about him.'
Chaelin's voice echoes inside your head.
You've lost count of how many times your best friend has given your advice, or simply encouraged you to do something you've been too scared to try.
'And he's cazy about you too.'
Chaelin might be wrong about marmite and the movie Cats, but she's definitely now wrong about anything regarding your and Jungkook.
That's it. You briefly close your eyes, inhale a deep breath then release it slowly. You start walking. It doesn't take longer than three strides and you're pushing the door open.
The tattoed blonde looks up from the counter the second you come into view. She smiles at the distance between you two. "You can come closer. I won't bite."
You clear your throat, stalking closer to her. "Is he-"
"He's in the back." she replies before you can finish you question. You close your mouth, clear your throat and nod your head.
"Thanks, Mijoo." she gives you a small wink, her smile easing your nerves like she had three months ago.
She watches you disappear. She shakes he head, her smile meeting her eyes. "I told him so."
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Jungkook ignores the knock on his door at first. It's almost ten and the parlor is about to close. He just has to finish this last fucking sketch so he can grab his shit and go the fuck ho-
Knock knock.
He growls, exhasperation cursing through him. He runs a hand through his messy pile of hair, his rings tangling between the strands, making him wince in pain. "Come in." he grunts under his breath. The door opens. "Mijoo, I really have to finish-"
He stops dead in his tracks as soon as he sees you.
"Hey." you say after a moment of hesitation.
"Hey." he replies and although there's something inside, deep in his chest, shouting at him to stand up, run up to you and kiss your face while he tells you how beautiful you look right now and how happy he is to see that you're still here, he decides against it. "Listen, ____, I'm pretty busy-"
"No, you listen to me." you cut him off abruptly. He looks taken aback and is already opening his mouth to say something, but you're not having it. "Please, just... Let me talk."
Silence looms between the two of you for a while, a staring contest defying each other to back down. When you take one step inside and close the door behind you, he sighs and leans back against his chair.
You move towards him slowly, your lip caught between your lip going through your mind for the speech you'd been preparing the last few days. Your hands are sticky due to the the sugary treat liquifying in your hand. "I know there's no reason you should give me another chance after rejecting you in high school, and there's definitely no reason why you should forgive me for the way I shut you out a few weeks ago. You've been confessing your feelings to me since we were teenagers, and now it's my turn to tell you exactly how I feel about you."
"Jungkook, the truth is... I like you so much. I like you more than I've ever liked anyone. Ever. I said this was just a summer fling, and I was lying. I was lying because there's no way a simple summer fling could make me feel the way you do. There's no way a simple summer fling could make me want not just summer with you, but also fall and winter, and spring and every summer that comes next."
You hadn't realize when your eyes filling up with tears until the sight of him starts blurrying in front of you. His fingers reach yours, his thumb comforting on your skin. "____, it's okay-"
"I'm not done yet." you sniffle, gathering enough courage to continue. "I brought you a lemon sherbet because you said it was your favourite. But you also implied I was your favourite, and I want to keep being you favourite, but now it's already melted and-"
The corners of Jungkook's lips start pulling upward as he tugs you towards him, his heart loudly jumping inside his chest. "Shhh, come here."
He takes the ice cream from your hand and places it on his desk. Then he's helping you onto his lap, your head tucked under his chin and your arms wapping on their own around his neck.
He doesn't care about your sticky fingers or the wet stains of your tears in his shirt. The only thing he cares about is the fact that you're right there, letting him engulf your frame and drown in the scent and warmth he'd misses so much.
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The first day of June has Jungkook sweating and wishing for a haircut. Jungkook usually hates summer. He hates the fact that he has to shower at least twice a day, and the fact that the heat is almost unbearable to sleep in and also the fact that he's easily sunburnt.
This year, however, Jungkook likes summer a little bit more.
"Excuse me, miss. Do you have an appointment?" it's the fact that you're starting to wear those summer dresses he loves so much, and the fact that your skin glows under the sun like glitter, and also the fact that he can lick ice cream off of it whenever he desires.
"I am the appointment." your giggle is almost childlike, playing with Jungkook's heart strings. You shut the door behind you, nearing him. You also seem to always have that flush on your cheeks. Although he likes to think part of it is due to him. He doesn't say anything else as he puts his pencil down and instead turns around in the chair to have you immediately on top of his thighs.
Yeah, he also likes the path your lips trace from his cheek, to his jaw, ending at the juncture between his neck and his shoulder. It still makes his body quaver to this day.
"Let me see." he murmurs against you forhear, his hand already working on unbottoning the front of your dress.
"Mijoo hasn't left yet." you whisper back, your smile impossible to supress and the faint whimper impossible to hide when his fingers expose your breast and tug at the titanium barbell adorning the already hardened nub.
Jungkook loves knowing he was the one to do that, and also the only one to play with it. He doesn't hesitate when he dips his head. "As if we'd ever cared about that." he adds, wrapping your sole point in his mouth.
He fucks you on his studio table with your legs around his waist and his tongue playing with both your breasts, the tattoo sketches long forgotten, scattered on the floor as he whispers against your flesh something that sounds a lot like 'I love you'.
#jungkook#jeon jungkook#jungkook smut#bts fanfic#jungkook angst#jungkook x reader#bts#bts fic#bts smut#jungkook fic
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Jason swore loudly and had to resist the urge to throw his controller down, pissed that he kept dying cause of the game's stupid glitches (Also known as own mistakes). Still, he regained his composure, and smiled before saying
"Alright chat, we're gonna finish up this one and then we're gonna move on to another game. There should be a poll on top for what we do next"
Jason was a moderately successfully game streamer, averaging about 200 to 300 viewers a night, entirely based on his wit and skill. He knew for sure that they weren't coming for his looks, given his weedy, thin frame, overly pimpled face and large, nerdy glasses. Still, it was enough for him, and he was happy with the progress that he'd made.
As Jason got himself set up for the next game, he heard a shocking sound from above him. The victory theme from one of his favorite JRPGs was blaring through the speakers, and he came up, staring at the screen in shock. He knew what that sound meant. That meant someone had tipped him one thousand dollars, completely out of nowhere.
He looked in shock at the notification on the stream, seeing that it was from someone named JockBro69, with the simple message "Can't wait to get to know you better, cutie~"
Jason was completely stunned. Not only had someone actually redeemed the donation goal that he set as a joke (That being that whoever was stupid enough to tip 1000 dollars got to have a 15 minute private chat with him), it was also someone that he'd never seen in his chat before.
Thoroughly weirded out, but knowing that he had to honor his commitment, he sent the guy a quick private message.
"Dude, I don't know how to thank you enough! Guess I'll see ya pretty soon!"
With that, he sent the man his private zoom link, and said goodbye to the chat, who were still going wild over this turn of events, before pausing,the stream and hopping over to discord for the call.
Not two seconds after his stream stopped, he got a requested video call on discord from the guy, and he opened it up, giving a second for the video to load, but when it did, he was completely dumbfounded again. He was expecting the mysterious donator to be some fat, sweaty silicon valley nerd with too much and money on his hands, but instead what met him was possibly the hottest man he's ever seen, standing up and looking down at his webcam with a friendly expression.
"Fuck, bro! Its so good to finally fucking meet you, I've been such a big fan for a long time, and this is a really big deal for me~
The man had a deep, rumbling, pleasant voice, that shot straight down Jacob's spine and left him feeling strangely... inadequate. Like the fact that his voice wasn't as smooth or melodic as this guy's was his fault, and he should be ashamed of that fact. Still, this guy was pretty pleasant to look at, Jason had to admit. He wasn't gay, definitely not, but he could acknowledge when another guy simply looked good.
Jason scratched the back of his neck awkwardly, not entirely sure of what he should do or say. Still, this guy spent 1000 dollars on this meeting, so he had to try anyway.
"So, umm.... I see your username is jockbro69... What's your actual name thought? I don't think I've ever seen you in chat before..."
The other man actually laughed at this, before looking confused and saying
"What are you talking about bro? Its me, Ethan! I'm in your chat all the time! Man, I guess what they say about playing games so much is true, huh?"
At this statement, Jason actually went pale with shock. THIS was Ethan? This was the guy who's username used to be runningLink? Who was an active fan of the zelda series, constantly begged Jason to play them, and bemoaned the fact that no would date him? It just didn't seem right...
Still, Jason, ever the semi professional, continued on, pretending that he wasn't shocked at the news.
"Well, thanks for supporting me so much! Seriously, this means a lot to me... Ummm... so I guess tell me some of your favorite things about the channel then!"
The man laughed again, the sound coming out in a slow, dumb chuckle, before saying
"What's my favorite thing? Do I even have to say, bro? Its the amazing piece of eye candy I'm looking at right now. You're super hot, bro~"
At this, Jason was shocked, but he chuckled awkwardly while blushing, and said
"Really? I don't think I've ever heard a single person say that before. I guess I consider myself slightly below average..."
The guy looked confused at that, before pressing on
"Really, bro? You look super hot to me, you got those bright, blinding blue eyes that you can just get lost in~"
At this point, Jason knew the man was just messing with him. His eyes have always, and will always be a dark, muddy brown, hidden behind his massive frames. Jason was about to respond, when Ethan continued
"Yeah, and you got that super stylish haircut too, really makes you look super masculine~"
Now Jason was REALLY confused. The guy was right, he did always get complements on his eyes, the bright, shocking blue visible and striking even through his huge glasses. But his hair was always a long, unkempt greasy mess.
"Ethan, are you sure you're okay, you're not just seeing things? Cause I don't know what you're talking about"
Ethan ignored the comment, just continuing to press on
"And you've got that hot, manly face, with your strong jaw and amazing profile"
Jason was confused again. Sure, his stylish haircut did help him look much better, but his face had always been pretty androgynous, with hints of baby fat still present in his cheeks. Again, before he could interrupt, Ethan continued,
"And you've got that smooth smooth skin, that hot stubble, that sexy smirk of yours. You're the full package bro~"
Jason laughed at this. Ethan was clearly being way too complementary. Sure his face had a great shape to it, with strong cheekbones and a square jaw, but his skin was still acne marked as hell, his smile was crooked and awkward, and he'd never been able to grow any facial hair, no matter how much he tried.
"I really have no idea what you're talking about Ethan. Sure I've got some good features, but the overall package isn't much to write home about~"
Ethan smirked again, his eyes lighting up with humor, as if he knew something I didn't.
"Nah, bro, you're underselling yourself. Plus, you've got that body~"
"What about my body? I think its pretty average, though I guess I'm a bit on the skinny side..."
Jason looked down at himself, trying to contemplate what Ethan meant. Sure, he'd been blessed with an attractive, manly face, but it didn't change the fact that his body was still below average at best.
"Again, bro! Putting yourself down. You really think those massive logs you have for arms are below average?"
Jason looked down at his skinny arms, and said
"More like logs than twigs man, seriously."
"And what about your legs? You've spent so long working on em, you've got thighs and glutes to kill for~"
Jason laughed again
"I dunno man! Most people say the exact opposite. They say I spend too much time on arms and not enough on my torso and legs. What can I say though? I love having big, beefy arms."
"Of course you do, bro? Who wouldn't? Especially when right in between em, you got your big, pillowy chest, your sexy abs, and your super toned back~"
Jason was seriously starting to wonder if Ethan was on something. Anyone could clearly see from first glance that Jason's body was badly proportioned, his arms and legs being massive from months to years of work, while he neglected his back, pecs and ab muscles. Still, he thought he looked pretty alright honestly.
"And I especially love how you're not only super sexy, you know it and flaunt it~ I don't think I've ever seen you once wear a shirt. The most you'll wear is a necklace, and even then, not like that covers anything, bro~ Only makes you look sexier"
Now here Jason had to disagree. He knew that he had cultivated and developed an amazing body over his years of going to the gym, but that was all for his own personal satisfaction. He never flaunted it unnecessarily, especially not during a stream.
"And I love the fact that you're such a fucking bro, bro. Every other word out of your mouth is bro and dude, you can't go even five minutes without flexing and thinking of fucking, or going to the gym, or hanging out with your other hot bros. We all know that your brain is basically only good for working out and looking hot. No smart's up there. And you've got your deep, sexy voice, too. Makes it even hotter that you're a gay bro, just like me"
Jason HAD to laugh at that. What the guy was saying was just so ridiculous.
"What the hell are you talking about? Look, I know that I like to show off my sexy body a lot, but that doesn't mean I'm some kind of dumb jock. And I'm definitely straight, dude. Don't know why you'd think I'm gay"
Ethan pressed on, completely unabashed by Jason's last comments.
"But you know the best fucking part, bro? Its that power of yours. The fact that any weak ass nerd who looks at you and your huge fucking muscles grows into a hot, dumb bro like us within seconds~"
Jason was busy flexing, staring at his own bicep in awe, as if he was shocked by him impressive he was. He looked up at Ethan blearily, saying
"Sorry, bro, what'd you say? I guess I got a bit fucking distracted. Huhuhu. But who could blame me~"
"Nah, it was nothing bro. You don't need to worry about it. Now should head back to the stream?"
Jason gasped in excitement, having forgotten entirely about the fact that there was a whole stream audience full of lame ass nerds, just ready for him to make as sexy as he and Ethan were.
"You got it bro~ This is gonna be so fucking hot~"
Jason left the call, going back to the stream and restarting, glad to see that a full 300 people were still watching, even through the extended break. The second he turned his camera on, he could see that people were confused for some reason, saying a stranger broke into his house. How stupid could these people be? How did they not recognize him? Still, not like it would matter for long...
"Hey bros! How're we all fucking doing? Welcomes to today's stream..."
He trailed off, looking blankly at the camera, before saying
"You know what? Fuck video games! Who needs them when you can do this~"
And as his pecs bounced and bounced hypnotically, the chat slowly transitioned from messages like "What the fuck is happening?" or "Who is this dumb jock?" to "Fuck, bro! Your pecs look so fucking hot today!" and "Huhuhu, I love making my pecs bounce like Jace's~"
And so the stream continued, Jace showing everyone all the amazing things his body could do, while anyone that was watching, whether they wanted to or not, began to copy him exactly. And as the stream went on, the viewer count rose, and rose, and rose...
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I Need You
A/N: This was found on Pinterest, so if you're the owner, let me know so I can give you the credits.
Pairing: Daryl Dixon X Reader
Word count: 2 K
Requested by anons: 1- I'm like super in love with a certain Daryl Dixon and I was wondering if you could write about them getting into a big argument and they like avoid eachother for a while (super angsty if you care lol) and then Carol and Rick just kinda make yall talk and it ends fluffy? 2 - Can i request a daryl x reader where the reader’s been with the group since atlanta, maybe set during when they’re at the prison?? daryl realizes he has a crush on the reader and just p a n i c s ? and just really sweet fluff????
Summary: After you almost get bit, Daryl loses his mind and lashes out on you. Tired of the constant arguments, the group finds a way to out you two together to try and fix things up.
{The Walking Dead Masterlist}
×
“Yer almost got bit!” Daryl shouts, voice echoing through the prison. “Yer too damn stubborn, yer not goin’ on runs anymore.” He has his back at you as you follow him, struggling to keep his pace.
“I had everything under control.” You complain, ignoring Carol's questioning stare.
You, Daryl, and Maggie went on a run earlier today. Not too far, just to get some more formula for Judith. A walker fell from the roof, and it happened to be on a specific place Daryl told you not to go. The thing's teeth got a little too close to your arm, and Daryl shot an arrow through its head.
“Ya sure did!” He stops, turning around and pointing a finger at you. “If I weren't near ya, I'd be carryin’ ya back here with a freakin’ bite.” His voice gets louder, and you never saw Daryl so... Angry. So pissed. He's scaring you. “Or would ya have me cut her damn arm off? How does that sound?”
“Stop yelling at me!” You burst out, giving his chest a push.
“I'll stop yellin’ when ya understand how stupid and dangerous that was!” He steps forward, towering over you and you never felt so small.
“We needed those antibiotics!”
“Well, I freakin’ need ya. I need ya alive! Alive and well and breathin’.” Daryl shouts, right at your face. But the moment the words come out, he stops, stepping back. He seems confused, taken aback by something. “Screw that, I need a break from savin’ yer ass.” And then, he leaves, walking fast.
Huffing, you turn around, going to your cell.
You take the longest shower you can, washing the sweat and all the disgusting things the dead left on your skin. But most of the time, you were already done, dressed, and dried. You just wanted to be away from everyone. But eventually, you have to walk out. And of course, Carol finds you on your way back to your cell.
“(Y/N), I–”
“Daryl is such an asshole.” You say cutting her off and dropping on bed. “Did you see that? Did you see how he yelled at me? As if he has the right to do so.” Getting back up you pace around.
“I just think–”
“You know what? He can go to hell.” Throwing both hands in the air, you complain. “He and his crossbow, and-and his super hot stare and the stupid angel wings vest. And the bike too. All it. Straight to hell!”
“Aren't you just–”
“Uhg! Damn it.” Crossing your arms, you sigh. “Did you hear him forbidding me to go on runs?” With your hands now on your hips, you stare at Carol. “As if! Who the hell does he think he is? My boyfriend? To hell with him.”
“Will you let me talk?”
“Sure, go ahead.” Shrugging your shoulders, you nod.
But she doesn't say anything, she just takes a deep breath and shakes her head lightly. “Look, why don't you calm down first, and then we talk.” Carol gestured at the bed and you sit down, sighing. “Good... Try to relax and deal with it after a good night's sleep.”
“I could sleep a thousand years and I'd still be mad at Daryl.” You mutter as she leaves, lying on your back with your eyes closed.
You don't know where all this anger comes from, but it's always there, waiting to flow out. You do care about him, maybe too much, but it doesn't mean he gets to yell and boss you around like that. “Asshole!” You shout one last time, arms crossing as you drown in anger.
“I saw it,” Daryl exclaims, pacing around the guard tower, breathing and talking fast. “I saw her dyin’. I saw that thing bitin’ her, tearin’ her flesh.”
“She's fine, Daryl. You don't have to keep thinking about it.” Rick tries to calm him down, both hands raised at the archer.
“No, ya don't understand.” It's useless though. Daryl is a mess. He got into the shower as soon as (Y/N) got out, rubbing the walker's blood out of his skin. But after that, he went straight to Rick because he needs to vent. He needs to yell and understand why he feels so damn scared.
Why he feels like a switch was turned on, lighting up something that was there all along, but only now was brought to light.
Losing anyone from his group, from his family would hurt bad.
But he just found out that losing her would be far worse.
“I her dyin’, man.” He slows down, both hands on his head. “I saw her dyin’ and–”
“You love her.”
“What the hell, Rick?” He snaps, a hand violently gesturing at his friend.
“You might not want to admit it, but it's true. You know it.” Rick nods, a hand casually resenting on his holster. “We all know it since Atlanta. She loves you too.”
Daryl grunts, turning his back at Rick. “Yer crazy. And so is she.”
“You should sit and talk like civilized people.”
“I ain't gonna talk to her. Crazy chick.” He mutters, grabbing his crossbow a bit tighter. “She ain't goin’ on runs anymore. At least not without me.”
“Daryl–”
“Gotta go.” The archer cuts him off, leaving the guard tower at a fast pace.
He didn't like the ideas Rick put in his head.
“Rick wants to make a room for Carl and Judith on the second floor,” Carol says as you climb the stairs next to her. “So we're cleaning up the cells.”
“Alright.” You don't really want to help. Not today at least. The nap you took didn't help much with the last issue, and you're considering going out tomorrow, just to clear your head a bit. “What do you need me to do?”
“We're just setting things up.”
“Mmm.” You mutter, running a hand through your hair as you follow her pace. Carol takes you to the very back of the corridor, to a pretty isolated cell. “You gonna put the kids here? This cell sucks. It's too–” You stop talking when you see Daryl inside, eyes-rolling. “Look, I won't help if he helps.” It sounds childish, but you don't care. You're far too pissed at the man to be near him.
“Look, I don't care if you guys argued.” Rick walks over you, friendly touching your arm. “You two just have to get your shkt together.” And you're suddenly pushed, almost stumbling inside the cell.
“What the hell?” You shout, but the moment you move, Rick pulls the bars close locking you inside. “Rick, drop it. I'm not joking.” Holding the bars, you shoot him and Carol an angry stare. “Open up.”
“There are blankets and dinner will be brought to you,” Carol says, arms crossed. “We did that because it's the only way to force you guys to talk.”
“Yeah. You'll have the whole night to figure out whatever has you both always at each other's throat.” Rick adds, sliding the key into his pocket. “Have a nice time.”
And like that, both jerks leave, talking something you can't hear. Sighing, you lay your forehead on the cold metal bars, not wanting to look at your company for the night.
“Yer can take the bed.” He says after a while.
“Obviously.” You're quick to snap. “It's your fault we're here in the first place.”
“How's that?”
“If you didn't come back from the run making a hell of a show about something that didn't even happen, we wouldn't be locked up in here.” Turning around, with both hands on your hips, you stare at him.
“If ya had listened to me, ya wouldn't have–”
“And why in the hell do I have to listen to you, Dixon? I know my way out there as well as you do.”
“ ‘Cause I jus’ wanna keep ya safe.” He's yelling again, stepping forward.
“Stop acting like I mean anything to you!” With a finger on his face, you move closer to him. You wish you could look intimidating, but being so small, that's very difficult.
“Maybe ya do mean somethin’ ta’ me! How could ya know that if ya never ask!”
“Well, I–” The answer is cut short when your furious brain processes what he just said. Furrowing your eyebrows together, you shrug your shoulders. “What do you mean?”
“Nothin’.”
“Daryl, what do you mean?” Raising your voice again, you follow him as he moves further into the cell. “What would you answer if I ask?”
“I ain't gonna answer.”
“Daryl–”
“I ain't gonna answer!” He shouts again, turning around to look at you.
Taking a deep breath, you sit on the edge of the bed, folding a leg under you. “Do you hate me?”
“What?”
“Do you hate me, Daryl?” Your voice is lower now because you do want to know.
He remains silent for a while, those blue eyes locked on yours. “No.”
“Then why–”
“I can't lose ya.” He bursts out, eyes now looking at the floor. “At that moment back there, I... I saw it happenin’. I saw ya dyin’, and I... I can't lose ya. I can't see ya gettin’ hurt.”
His voice is so low you can barely hear it. You've never seen Daryl so... Scared. Vulnerable. “You can't protect me all the time, Daryl. Accidents happen.”
“I can. I can keep ya safe if ya listen to me.” You're about to protest when Daryl comes to sit next to you, eyes on the wall across the cell. “I know ya can survive out there. But my mind works in a thousand different ways ta’ get stuff done without anyone gettin’ hurt. I need ya ta’ trust me. Ta’ believe I can keep ya safe.”
“But I need you to believe me too. To believe I can do this.” Turning your body towards him, you friendly touches his arm. “Daryl, I... I like you... A lot. And I admire you, I trust you. You taught me so much and I need you to trust me. I promise I'll be more careful, but I need you to–”
“Don't go out there without me.” He suddenly says, voice heavy. “I trust ya. Yer brave and strong. But if ya go out there and I can't keep my eyes on ya... I'll lose my damn mind.”
“Alright.” Nodding, you sigh, smiling a little. “Just don't yell at me again, Daryl Dixon.”
“Yer almost died and I... Damn it, (Y/N), –”
“I like you too, Dixon.” Standing up to your feet, you smile, looking down at him. “You don't have to say if you don't want to, just... Let's get this over with. The world is a freaking mess and if you like me and I like you we should be together.” You can't believe you're saying this, after so long. But it feels good. You feel good, secure. “Just let me know what you want.”
“Ya.”
“Me?”
“Yeah.” He nods, blue eyes locked on yours.
“Alright.” Mirroring his head movement, you clear your throat, cheeks burning. After a few seconds of silence, you walk to the bars. “RICK! CAROL! Daryl and I are dating now, can we go?” You yell, and the low chattering downstairs goes silent.
“Would it be so bad ta' stay locked in here with me for a night?” Daryl asks, and you turn around, biting your lip to hold back a smile.
“Absolutely not.” Shrugging your shoulders, you slowly move to the bed, climbing on and lying down. “I'm actually sleepy and it's cold so it'll be nice to have someone to warm me up at night.”
“Don't push it.”
“I'm not.” Giggling, you feel as he lies down, close enough so his shoulder is touching your back. “Night, D. It was good to sort things out with you.”
“Good night, pretty girl.” He mutters and you smile, eyes closing and sleep easily overcoming you, thanks to the amazing feeling of having Daryl lying next to you.
#daryl fanfiction#imagine daryl#daryl dixon fanfiction#daryl dixon#daryl dixon imagine#daryl x reader#daryl dixon x reader#daryl dixon one shot#daryl dixion imagine#imagine the walking dead#the walking dead imagine#the walking dead fanfiction
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pride, prejudice and rain. - nikolai lantsov.
pairing: nikolai lantsov x reader
genre/warning: fluff, nikolai quoting pride and prejudice.
words: 1.6k
summary: a rainy night that consists of reading on the garden with nikolai, and slow dancing under a gazebo soaked from the rain.
a/n: ik p&p doesn't technically exist in the grishaverse, but we're gonna ignore that.
The sky was glistening with stars that were getting less and less visible every passing second due to the clouds that had started to cover them up, and the wind was blowing through the trees in the garden as you laid with your back pressed against its grass. If your parents could see you, they’d probably tell you your clothes would get tainted green, your hair would get tangled, and your hands would get dirty, but you didn’t care, and they weren’t there anyway. The only person other than you in the garden was Nikolai, and he was reading to you from where he sat behind you, with your head resting on his legs and his unoccupied hand resting on your hair and tracing circles every now and again.
“And then h- Oh, Saints!” you heard Nikolai’s narration be cut short from above you and you chuckled at his dramatic gasp, opening your eyes and looking up at him.
“What did he do to annoy you now?” you asked, soft smile on your lips as you took in his baffled expression, the moonlight giving his hair a darker glow but shining brightly on his hazel eyes.
“He’s criticizing her whole family while proposing to her!” he explained, and you snorted.
“Don’t worry, she won’t let him get away with it.” you told him, and he furrowed his brows but returned his attention back to the pages in front of him, his hand not leaving your hair.
The night sky was almost completely covered by clouds now, and the wind that had previously been just a refreshing summer breeze, quickly turned colder, making you shiver once it passed through your body. Wordlessly, Nikolai took off his coat with one hand, and draped it on top of your body softly, not taking his eyes off the book in front of him.
“Oh, that’s rough.” he winced as he read her reply. “Good for her, though.” he nodded, way too serious to be talking about a work of fiction, which caused you to laugh loudly.
“Good for her.” you agreed.
“We should convince someone in the palace to make a play about this.” he proposed, his voice excited at his idea. “Or we could just do it ourselves!” His hair was a mess of blonde curls as the wind continued to blow against it, and from below him, his face was even less visible. Nonetheless, you could tell the expression he wore on his face was one of excitement as he told you his idea, his hands making exaggerated motions with the book still in them.
“We could play every single character in the book.” you nodded, smiling at his happy demeanor.
“It’d be a two person show.” he finished with a smirk. “Guaranteed success.” he said sarcastically, causing you to laugh once again.
He stared down at your laughing form with a soft look on his face for a moment longer than necessary, and stored the memory away in his brain for when he needed something sweet to think about. He went back to the book after your laughter had died down, but the fond look on his face remained as he read.
After a few moments of more narration from him, you felt something wet land on your cheek, and at first you thought maybe the book had been a bit more emotional for Nikolai than you originally imagined it would be, but as you looked up at him and watched how a raindrop landed on your book, you stood up quickly and took the book from his hand.
“Hey! I wasn’t done.” he pouted, and you rolled your eyes.
“I’m not letting you ruin my copy of this book just because you haven’t finished a chapter.” you explained as he snatched the book back from your hands, and the confused expression on his face quickly dissolved once a drop of water landed right on top of his nose, making him look even more adorable than before. You smiled at the sight, and raised your eyebrows as he scrunched up his nose to get rid of the water. “Could’ve just used your hand.”
“But then i wouldn't be able to do this.” he used his free hand to yank yours in his direction and took off running through the garden. His laugh could be heard loud and clear even after the rain became stronger and drowned out almost every single sound in the palace, except for him - and your screams.
“Nikolai, if you don’t stop right now, I swear on the Saints.” you threatened, which caused him to laugh even louder.
He finally stopped his running once he reached the gazebo standing in the middle of a deserted spot away from the garden and hidden from the view of anyone in the palace grounds. He collapsed on the dry floor and you used the opportunity to hit him on the side with your book before collapsing right next to him. “What was that about?” you complained, out of breath.
“I didn’t want you to go back to your rain because of the rain.” he shrugged.
“So you made us both run in the rain, getting completely soaked, and ruining my book?” you asked, sitting up and looking down at him and his mess of a hair now that it was wet. He still looked as beautiful as ever even with his curls sticking to his face, which caused you to hit him again out of frustration.
“What was that one for?” he complained, sitting up as well and taking the book from your hands and placing it on the floor next to him to prevent you from using it against him again.
You ignored his question and instead went back to the previous topic. “You could’ve just asked me to come back to my room with me.”
“Yeah, but how boring is that?” he smirked and stood up, holding his hand out to you.
“I don’t trust your hand anymore.” you said, but took it anyway. You almost thought he was about to start running again when he yanked you to him, but instead, he placed his other hand on top of your waist and kept his previous one wrapped around your own. “What are you doing?” you said, your voice sounding weak and kicking yourself for it mentally.
He just shrugged. “Dancing.”
“There’s no music.” you said, but followed his steps nonetheless, your heart beating way so fast that you were sure if a heartrender were near, they would think someone was dying.
“You don’t say.” he faked surprise, and you rolled your eyes.
“You owe me a book, you know?” you glanced down at your disregarded book, wet and laying on the floor.
“I’m this close to you and you’re thinking about your book? Unbelievable.” he said sarcastically once again, and you looked down feeling guilty for the way your mind was trying to avoid thinking about exactly that. “Hey, i was kidding.” he leaned down to meet your gaze, any sarcastic tone vanished from his voice.
“I know.” that’s the problem, you thought.
You continued to look down instead of looking up at his face, and he caught onto your change of attitude pretty quickly. He hated to think that he was the reason you were suddenly feeling down and so he did the only thing he could think of: he spun you around and used your surprise to meet your eyes and yank you close to him once again.
“In vain I have struggled. It will not do.” he started, dramatically as you looked up at him with an amused expression on your face. “My feelings will not be repressed.” he continued to quote the book, causing you to let out a small laugh.
“Stop that.” you slapped his chest softly.
“You must allow me to tell you,” he chose to ignore your words and decided to finish the quote, an over dramatic tone to his words and look on his face. “how ardently I admire and love you.” he finished, his fake performer accent never once slipping, and you let out a loud laugh.
“That was terrible.” you continued to laugh, burrowing your head in the crook of his neck.
“I thought I kind of did okay.” he shrugged once your giggles had died down, a fond look on his face as he looked down at you.
“You need to practice your acting if we want to go through with the plans about the two person play, your highness.” you said, a grimace on your face. “And you should probably work on your self-perception as well.”
“How rude!” he gasped, his smile never leaving his face as he observed the smile that was still on yours. “I’ll practice on my acting as long as you help me.”
“Deal.” you smiled.
“Deal.” he repeated, spinning you around once more to put an end to the conversation and keep dancing with you.
As the rain outside the gazebo started to die down, instead of going back to your respective rooms, you just kept dancing and giggling with each other like two little kids avoiding their responsibilities. And even as you stumbled back into the palace at an ungodly hour in the morning, neither of you could bring yourselves to care about the bags under your eyes or the shivers cursing through your bodies as a result to your wet clothes, your smiles way too big to be thinking about anything else other than the other.
taglist: @subjecta13-thefangirl @wtfrae @goldengoddess @thegirlwiththeimpala (lmk if you want to be added!)
#nikolai lantsov#nikolai lantsov fanfiction#nikolai lantsov x you#nikolai lantsov fanfic#nikolai lantsov fic#nikolai lantsov fluff#nikolai lantsov imagine#nikolai lantsov x reader#nikolai fanfic#nikolai imagine#nikolai x reader#nikolai x you#shadow and bone#shadow and bone x reader#shadow and bone imagine#shadow and bone fanfiction#shadow and bone fic#shadow and bone fanfic#six of crows#crooked kingdom#siege and storm#ruin and rising#king of scars#rule of wolves#nikolai duology
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Scars That Heal || Eddie Kaspbrak x Reader Series
• Ch. 12: Changes •
A/N: The missing gaps in time are on purpose since they will be in book 2 as flashbacks, which will include references to events you have not read yet. All fluff and shenanigans this chapter to make up for last, I hope you enjoy!
Warnings: brief mention of nausea and gore towards the very end, but otherwise, tooth-rotting fluff!
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𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡 𝐦𝐲 𝐞𝐲𝐞𝐬
𝐁𝐮𝐭 𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐥𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐝𝐚𝐲𝐬 𝐬𝐞𝐞𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐚𝐦𝐞
𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐬𝐩𝐢𝐭 𝐨𝐧
𝐀𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲 𝐭𝐫𝐲 𝐭𝐨 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐠𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐢𝐫 𝐰𝐨𝐫𝐥𝐝𝐬
𝐀𝐫𝐞 𝐢𝐦𝐦𝐮𝐧𝐞 𝐭𝐨 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐬𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐬
𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐫𝐞 𝐪𝐮𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐲'𝐫𝐞 𝐠𝐨𝐢𝐧' 𝐭𝐡𝐫𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡
- David Bowie, Changes
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- 𝗠𝗜𝗗 𝗔𝗨𝗚𝗨𝗦𝗧 -
"I still can't believe you went after Bowers," Richie scoffs.
As he steps off his porch and onto his lawn he looks over at his best friend and takes another gander at the bruises and welts littering her skin. Her lip was still busted and despite his and his mother's efforts to clean her bottom lip of blood, it must have started bleeding again sometime during the night as more had crusted over.
"Yeah, well," she shrugs. "It felt good,"
"Yeah," he snorts. "It looks like it,"
"You know what I mean," She elbowed him and he nodded with a little laugh.
"What d'ya want to do? I mean, we could keep standing around here like a bunch of idiots, but-" he shrugs, hands falling into his pockets, and Y/n smiles.
"I dunno," she shrugs. A wince falls over her face, a painful-looking one at that. "But I don't think I'm gonna be welcome back at the Capitol Theatre any time soon."
Richie nodded, a ghostly look falling over his face at all that had transpired in the past twenty-four hours alone. He still couldn't believe she had done that. He still couldn't believe a lot of things but her being in his corner after what she had found out seemed a little harder to believe right now. Especially after the junkyard... But - Jesus, that was already a week and a half ago, it felt like only hours.
He could hear her words from the park the other day in his ears and he suddenly felt the urge to pay her back. He smiled his charming crooked smile and hoped for the best.
"You still craving fries?"
"Always," she answered, a look of suspicion written in her features. "Why?"
Y/n didn't know why she kept asking these questions when she knew the answer. She didn't at all like the look growing in his eyes or the stupid feeling of guilt growing in her stomach.
"Cause I'm prepared to make a deal with ya toots,"
"Oh, yeah?"
"Sure am," he says, patting his hand over his left pocket. "I'd been saving up for a long weekend at the arcade but that's a bust. And I just got a raise on my allowance ━ that's again, toots. Allowance. It's the money you get when you do stuff for people, you might never have heard of it--"
"Is there a point here, Rich? Cause if so, you better get to it faster,"
"Point is, I'm packing and I'm also craving milkshakes. So how's about I treat you to the biggest pile of fries your staved ass has ever seen--"
Y/n shoots him a knowing look, ready to detest when he holds out a finger.
"If," he continues. "you take me there."
"Take you there?"
"Take me there," he nodded. "By piggyback."
Y/n gave thought to this, all while hiding behind an unimpressed look. As much as she hated to admit it, she was starving.
Richie shrugged. "Hey, you're the one always saying you don't want to feel like charity. Well, this ain't charity, this is work with a reward. Take it or leave it,"
Her unimpressed look grows stronger in an attempt to buy her time. But it's useless, her stomach answers for her with a long growl and a smile sneaks up on her.
She steps forward, crouching down a bit for him to jump on her back. "Alright, let's get this over with."
· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·
"You know, I was really worried about carrying you, but dude, you weigh like nothing. You're a fucking bean pole," Y/n says.
She comes to a slow before straightened her back letting him slide off her back and onto the ground. The two of them had arrived at the nearest diner in the town square where they now stood.
"Well, not to brag or anything, but," he fluffs his collar. "I took a massive shit before we left,"
"Ugh!" a shocked and uncomfortable laugh breaks loose from Y/n and she sticks out her tongue in disgust. "Regretting this already."
She threw open the doors and the two found themselves inside one of Derry's lesser diners.
It smelled like sausage and coffee beans, and it had a vibrant red and black theme. There were maybe nine or ten people there, little kids included and they could hear the jukebox blasting a David Bowie song. Y/n had a hard time enjoying it with the combination of a full bladder and an empty stomach so she turns to Richie and nudges him with her elbow.
"I'm gonna run to the restroom. Get us a booth?"
"Do your thing," Y/n nods and disappears around the corner. As his eyes follow her, they land on the corner in question she had disappeared around where there sat the jukebox.
He wanders over, eyeing the machine as Changes reaches a crescendo. A mischievous smile blooms as the lights from the window illuminated his face.
"Three plays for a dollar, huh?"
· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·
When Y/n returned from the restroom, she had expected to find Richie lounging in a booth somewhere, feet up and bugging the employees. She did not expect to turn the corner and nearly collide with the boy as he stood at the Jukebox and feeding all his money into it.
"Dude! I carried you here, you owe me fries!"
"And you shall get them my liege," answered Richie in a Shakespearean tone. "But first!" He dropped the act and looked away from the Jukebox for the first time, wearing an almost evil grin. "A social experiment,"
Y/n's brow furrowed as she watched Richie punch in the same Tom Jones song over and over and over. It was then she caught on to what he was doing. She held out a hand as her eyes watched the Jukebox.
"Hey, hey, hey, wait," she said, stopping Richie in his tracks.
He looked up at her with a pout. "Relax, toots. I saved just enough for their biggest basket of fries, you'll get them." Then Richie saw the look on her face. He could practically see the gears turning.
"No, not that. It's just..." she said, eyes never leaving the list of songs. "Before you put in more, you should throw in one It's Not Unusual,"
And that's when the afternoon went from good to great.
· · ─── ·𖥸· ─── · ·
By now, the duo had ordered and waited. They now sat tucked into a corner booth with a great view of the street corner and the passers-by of Derry. Changes had long since ended, and the remaining songs in the queue had trickled out. Richie memorized the song queue and was silently counting down until the big moment as he sat across from his battered-up best friend.
Her busted lip poked out in a bored pout, her chin propped up on her palm as she balanced her head on the table while looking out at the graying town landscape. It always escaped her how Derry could possibly look so gloomy on even the hottest, brightest days of summer. Until recently that is, the truth all too clear to her and her friends now.
The thought of the Losers scattered all over this hellhole only added to the gloom. They should all be here, together. Pointlessly debating which condiment goes best with fries, not fighting over... Over what they had fought over.
Y/n's eyes finally broke away from the manhole at the center of the little intersection outside and wandered over to Richie. He had stolen the salt and pepper shakers from a few empty (and not so empty) tables and was currently doing his best to construct a salt and pepper shaker tower. His tongue was sticking out from between his curled lips and his glasses were sliding to the end of his nose at the angle he looking. The tower was nearly three shakers high and Y/n could hear him muttering, 'where's Haystack when you need him?' under his breath.
The gloom Y/n had been thinking so intently on was suddenly ebbed away at the sight, and the corners of her lips hooked into a small smile.
At least she had her favorite Trashmouth.
"If you keep undressing me with your eyes, I'm gonna catch a cold," said Richie, never once looking up from his tower.
Y/n snorts. "You're unbearable,"
Richie shrugs defensively. "Hey, you're the one who said we're stuck with each other," he clicks his tongue and winks. "No going back on that kind of deal,"
"Oh, I meant what I said," Y/n releases her chin and folds both arms on the table. She hated getting all serious again, but she just needed to be sure. Her voice softens, trying to catch Richie's eye. "All of it, okay?"
Richie's hand around the salt shaker stops, and he pries his eyes off the tower and to his best friend. Despite her intentions and promises, everything that transpired the day before -- good and bad -- flooded over him and made him tense.
She suddenly offered him her pinky and a small smile.
"Stuck forever?"
Richie rolls his eyes. He didn't quite know who to blame, maybe just the losers in general, but he was going all soft and lame.
"Like my ass and a toilet seat, toots,"
He locked his pinky with hers and the deal was sealed forever.
Y/n leaned back on her side of the booth and took a large swig of the complimentary water as her eyes returned to the streets. The chatter of the diner had died down a little. There weren't as many people since they got there, but they were still filtering in and out. But when Y/n had a hard time shaking off the images she had of her best friend in the state he had been, she deems it safe enough to lean forward and lowered her voice.
"You know," she began picking at her napkin, making slow and tiny tears here and there. "I--" she sighs, not knowing how or where to begin. "I wouldn't blame you."
Richie, having abandoned his shaker tower, frowns.
"I wouldn't blame you if maybe, it was -- or is hard to be..." she shakes her head again and rubs her forehead trying to find the words. "I wouldn't blame you if it was hard to be around me and Eddie," She blurts.
"I'm gonna stop you right there," Richie says. "We're not gonna do that, okay? You have exceeded your sappy meter and you're gonna need to wait about 48 hours for it to charge up again. I think we've both had enough, right?"
Y/n swallowed her words. She swallowed any promise she was holding out to him that their feelings for Eddie wouldn't change anything. That she wouldn't ever want to stand in their way, however true it was. And instead, she made a new one.
"Let's just agree, whatever happens, happens. Let that be whatever it needs to be. Even if that means neither of us gets to see that adorable, asthmatic pipsqueak ever again. Deal?"
Y/n fought the bittersweet smile threatening to appear. She could see it now. Richie knew what he needed to know about himself now, and that was already a lot for him to handle. She could see in his eyes he wasn't ready for the possibility of whatever was his feelings for Eddie Kaspbrak.
Y/n's stomach turns to knots when the thought crosses her mind, but that only confirms to her it was time.
She looks around the diner, looking for prying eyes and she still finds none. She leans in, voice lowered as she fiddles with her napkin again. "I'm uh--," she clears her throat. "I've never told anyone this, but..."
She lets out a sharp breath. "Well, let's just say Eddie isn't the first Loser I've ever had feelings for,"
Richie shakes his head, making a "what am I supposed to do with that?" face at her sudden shyness. She only gives him a solid stare until it finally clicks.
Richie collapses against the seatback with a gaping, triumphant look.
"No. Fucking. Way," Richie slaps his hands on the table and leans forward, and an ugly excited laugh comes barreling out of his chest. "You big homo!"
"Would you fucking shut up?!" Y/n hisses, reaching over and shoving him back against his seat by his forehead. She looks around the diner and determines no one had heard that. Maybe except one guy in his forties, but that was most likely about him knowing they did something to the jukebox. He was sat with his young kids, looking tired and all too suspicious of their laughter at the jukebox. Finally, she laughs a little. "Beep, beep you moron."
"You telling me you and Little Orphan Annie...?"
"I'm saying," Y/n sighs, shrugging her shoulders. "I meant it when I said you're not alone, alright?"
The look in Richie's eyes hardly changes.
"No!" She answers. "No, nothing's happened but..." Y/n shook her head. "I had feelings for a really long time, up until about two years ago."
"Wowza," Richie sighs, leaning back into his seat and plopping one hand on the table. He sighs. "We sure know how to pick em,"
"Yeah, you could say that," Y/n laughs.
In fact, that's all she could say. A million things ran through her head, things she wanted to say to Richie but couldn't. Cause when she looked in Richie's eyes at that moment she -- they both -- knew everything unsaid could remain that way. With one look they knew. They knew that they could both count on each other, have each other's back. And that included Eddie too. They knew that no matter who held Eddie's heart, they could both agree that Eddie's happiness -- and each other's -- was most important.
The sound of brass instruments invaded the atmosphere, pulling the duo's eyes to the jukebox across the diner. Their faces lit up in matching grins, both of them nearly forgetting the psychological horror they had just unleashed upon the diner.
"What's new pussycat? Woah, wo~ah,"
And thus began the best meal they ever had.
- 𝗟𝗔𝗧𝗘 𝗔𝗨𝗚𝗨𝗦𝗧 -
Y/n relished at the demanding burst of cool air that bombarded her sweaty skin as she stepped inside Keene's pharmacy. The grip on the money she had scraped together tucked tightly in her right palm grew tighter when the shopkeeper's bell announced her arrival. Her eyes fell to her injured leg, and by now her feet have already begun their journey forward towards the first aid supplies. The last of the bandages secured around her leg, and she winced at the faded and stained cloth that was in dire need of a change.
Her eyes pick up from the ground when she hears a choked gasp only to find the boy that had been occupying her thoughts standing before her.
"Y/n," His voice is meek and heavy with sadness, and you can hear the absence of breath in his lungs that she always seemed to create.
Despite the staggering stampede of emotions she felt, she found herself releasing a chuckle. "Hey, shrimp."
The name itself would have been strong enough to send hooks into the corner of his lips, tugging them into a half-smile had it not been for the sight before him; she was a wreck. Looked as if she had been put through an actual wringer and his heart stops for a moment, in fear. At that moment he is grateful he has his inhaler, Y/n had a talent for taking his breath away but he never would have dreamed of it happening this way. Already his mind is going at twice its speed, a mad swarm of thoughts that dizzy his head, and as quickly as he can he tries to pluck one - just one - thing to say to her. When he finally speaks, he is thankful that his voice has returned to him.
"How's your leg?"
He doesn't have to ask, the first thing he saw - the very feature that tipped him off about her - was the blood-soaked bandages wrapped around her left calf. He couldn't imagine why it would still be bleeding, much less this profusely given how long ago it had been. Perhaps it had opened back up. And Eddie felt it best not to address the new set of scrapes and bandages that were scattered across her arms and legs, though each one filled him with worry. But her eye... it was completely swollen, and several shades darker than a usual bruise.
She grew rather sick looking at the question and instantly he was filled with dread. Had It gotten to her again? Was it something new entirely? Either way, he felt a great deal of guilt he hadn't been there, and more than anything he wanted her safe. Maybe, if it wasn't too crazy, be the one to look out for her. To protect her.
"I just," she swallows thickly, eyes darting around to avoid his eye line.
Eddie tilts his head, encouraging her to continue. She looks as if she's about to unload a great deal off of her chest, but after a moment she shakes her head.
"Nothing," she lies. "Just need new bandages."
Eddie's horrified expression does not waver, but only intensifies, zeroing in on her. He just simply can't ignore the state she's in. And while every instinct inside him screams to jump in and help, he knows that's not his call nor his place. But he had to ask, he had to know.
"Are you okay?" He blurts suddenly. He mentally slapped himself. Of course she wasn't. "What happened...? You're leg? You're eye? Are you in trouble at home? Was it...?"
She grows tense, and Eddie scolds himself once more when he sees her walls rebuilding themselves. He hated his stupid word vomit sometimes.
"No, Eddie!" she says tiredly, sighing at her slight outburst. "I'm..." she sighs again, staring at the floor, looking almost... calculated.
Finally, she picks her head back up, her expression flat, but her tone a bit softer. "Just Bowers. The usual."
Eddie couldn't help but feel like she was lying. And that hurt him. But he understood. If she had pressed him about things at home he probably would have done the same. Eddie sighed deeply as well.
He missed the way things were.
He missed Y/n.
He missed the feeling he got around her, the storm of butterflies and mind-numbing fits of laughter they'd bring out in one another. He missed the way his skin would tingle like every blood cell was on fire when their skin accidentally brushed together. Eddie missed the way he'd lose himself in thoughts about her like he was now.
Eddie didn't realize it until that last thought crossed his mind, but this was the first time in weeks he felt something other than anxiety and fear. And maybe he was crazy, but when he looked in Y/n's eyes now he thought he saw it too -
"I'm sorry, Eddie," she says, breaking him from his daydream, sending him falling back down to earth. "But I really need to take care of this."
He glances down at her leg, the bandage still soaked with blood and he feels fear squeeze his chest again. She was leaving. And that meant he had to, as well. He would have to say goodbye and go back home to his mother. He could hear her haunted cries, whining at him and wailing. What took you so long, Eddie? Don't you know what you're doing to my heart?
Eddie goes rigid at the thought when he realizes; the last time he saw Y/n... Those horrible things his mother had said to her and he... Jesus, what she must think.
"Y-Y/n," he sputters desperately as she begins to limp around him. She had gotten no answer for once again he had gotten lost in his thoughts. But he couldn't have it end like this. He just couldn't. "Y/n, I'm sorry."
She stops in her tracks and looks back at him, thoughtfully. A sad smile graces her face.
"I know, shrimp,"
Her eyes hold a thousand words, a million things she wants to say to him as he wants to say to her. But they die out, and she turns away.
"Y/n!"
He couldn't let her go, he just couldn't. Then why was this so difficult? He always had a mouthful to say, but around Y/n L/n, Eddie was always speechless.
"I wanna..." he gulps, a pleading, sincere look in his eyes. "I wanna see you again." He admits.
Y/n smiles sadly. Like she doesn't want to let him go either. But still, she gives him a pleading look after gesturing to her leg.
"Eddie, I gotta take care of this,"
His head sunk to the floor and he nodded, embarrassed. Of course, what the hell was he thinking? She didn't need him coming in and messing things -
Her sudden sigh broke his thoughts. "Meet me outside in five? I could use some help,"
A nervous smile broke out, stretching and hurting his cheeks and Eddie nodded when he met her eye. He was out the door without another word, back in the alley where he had first bandaged her up all those months ago.
His mind raced with possibility and more unanswered questions. What would he do, what would he say? What had happened to her, and could he have been there to stop it? His face still burned with embarrassment when he thought of the things he let his mother say to her, how livid he was with himself.
It was all he could do not to bounce off the walls from the jitters. The crates from the last alley visit, or at least some like it, remained and so Eddie eagerly took a seat. His knee bounced up and down at unnatural speeds as his mind raced, his eyes wandering the alley as the wind swept in a familiar summer breeze against his cheeks.
"I really need to focus right now," he orders, his hands making delicate work of the bandage over the new kid's stomach.
"You need to focus?" Richie snorts over his shoulder, causing Eddie's cheeks to burn.
"Yeah, can you go get me something?"
"Jesus! What do you need?"
"Go get my bifocals. I hid 'em in my second fanny pack."
Y/n leaned forward, balanced on her knees with a crooked smile that would with Eddie for days. "You have a second fanny pack?"
The burning in his cheeks grew, and Stan joined in. "Yeah, why do you have two?"
Eddie didn't dare meet anyone's eye, let alone Richie or Y/n's.
"I need to focus right now and it's a long story. I don't want to get into it."
Besides! He was telling the truth! He needed to focus. Who knows what kind of shit has gotten into this kid's system by now?
Eddie had nearly finished with the new kid's bandages when he heard the jingle of the store bell.
"Yep. Thanks." Came the hardened voice of Y/n backing out and towards the alley with a pressed and forced smile before turning for the alley and away from whoever she had been talking to. Eddie was the only one to have caught the small whispered words under her breath from the silence of the alley. "-for nothing, I guess..."
Eddie shot up from his seat, subconsciously straightening out his shirt.
"Everything okay? What was that all about?" He asked as Y/n finally joined him. Eddie sputtered, mentally kicking himself for prying. "I mean, you don't have to tell me or anything, it's just you seemed frustrated. You know what never mind, you probably want to get your leg fixed up, right?"
Eddie stopped again, shifting on his feet when he realized Y/n must be waiting to talk. "Sorry," he mumbled. And to his great surprise, she smiled.
"Don't be. I've missed your word vomit," she joked.
Eddie could feel the corners of his lips twitching up in a smile, and something happened to him he hadn't felt in a long time; flutters invaded his chest, making the air he breathed feel lighter and his stomach was doing flips. And he would have fallen harder had he known Y/n's stomach was doing flips right along with him, and a burning sensation lighting up her neck and ears.
"Well, here-" Eddie said, snapping out of his daze, no longer able to stand by and ignore the gash in her leg. He supposed it really was like old times. He stepped aside, gesturing for the crates and taking the bag of supplies Y/n had handed over.
"For real though," Eddie began, eyeing her nervously as he unzipped his fanny bag and begun fishing inside for hand wipes. "What happened, Y/n?"
Her smile fell, and her eyes dropped to her lap where her fingers fiddled together. To Eddie, it felt like a long time before she finally answered.
"A lot's happened since Niebolt, I'll leave it at that,"
Eddie nodded, and stepped forward, lowering himself to his knees before her injured leg, and began unwrapping the first of the supplies from her grocery bag. "It feels like years ago,"
"Yeah, it does," Y/n croaks.
There's another small silence and Eddie feels a tug in his chest when her eyes linger over him. He only spares a moment to meet her eyes back before taking a deep breath and holding it. With a wince, he unraveled the cloth and quickly discarded it. He tried not to linger on the injury; the edges of her claw-like scars remained, but it looked as if they had been messily pried back open.
Like deja vu, Eddie found himself battling to keep his lunch in his stomach, but the overall worry in his system for one of his best friends triumphed over it this time around. He dismissed the urge to gag and instead darted his eyes to Y/n in between his work.
"So..." he asked, realizing he didn't really know where to start. "how have you been? Other than, you know," he laughed nervously.
To his relief, Y/n smiled.
"It's hard not being around the losers. I only ever see Richie anymore. Even Bev and I haven't really spoken since the fight, which has been really hard. We've been in each other's lives for so long,"
As Eddie finishes cleaning the wound, his heart sinks a little at her words. True, he missed Beverly very much. But he also knew all too well what Y/n spoke of, and judging by the look in her eye as she softens at him, she knows it too. She gives him a gentle nudge with her foot.
"He misses you too," she says, growing another small smile. "Won't shut up about you, in fact. Which is saying something... Guess I'm one to talk, though," she adds, watching him nervously out of the corner of her eye, and Eddie's heart skipped another beat.
"What about you, shrimp? Dare I ask?" She says with a smile.
Eddie, Y/n noticed, had been unusually quiet. By now, on any other occasion, he would have talked laps around her by now but something was keeping him. Maybe he just feels a bit out of step, she thinks, as she did. It had been far too long since things had been normal for either of them. But something told her he was now particularly quiet perhaps because he wasn't all that eager to share how things had been for him since the losers split. She couldn't imagine things had been well at home with his mother given everything that had transpired.
So she didn't pry. She changes the subject, hoping to get his mind off of whatever might be bothering him. Her mind returns to his previous questions, and she bites the bullet.
"Quitting my job." She says finally, stunning Eddie enough to pull his attention away for a split second. "You wondered what I was doing there. And aside from restocking, I was um... I was quitting my job."
"You got a job at Keene's Pharmacy? When?" Eddie asked, reaching for a strip of gauze.
Y/n seemed to think about it for a minute, counting the days in her head before shrugging. Leaning forward, she holds the gauze in places Eddie begins applying the bandages. "I guess a little over two weeks after Niebolt. I did little things around the store, this and that really,"
"How come I never saw you?" Eddie asked, and Y/n shrugged.
"He had me running errands most of the time," and she smiled a little. "But sometimes I'd stick around a little longer. I'd offer to sweep or restock the shelves or something. It's stupid, I know, but... I don't know, I guess I was hoping to see some admittedly cute... shrimpy little dude come walking in to refill his inhaler. Is that stupid?"
Eddie paused, unable to hide the smile or the raging blush taking over his face. Y/n smiled to herself when she saw it, and she'd be lying if she said she wasn't feeling a little bit of it too. Finally, Eddie spoke. Or at least, he tried to. His voice came out hoarse and he cleared his throat, quickly shaking his head as he secured the bandages in place and began disinfecting his hands.
"No. No, that's not stupid at all. I mean, I don't know if I'd say shrimpy, necessarily, maybe a little skinny but-"
Y/n laughed, smiling hard at the boy she hadn't stopped thinking about for weeks. Like Eddie, she hadn't realized just how much she had missed him until now. But, she hoped, maybe she could change that.
Eddie trailed off, his ears burning at her laugh but a smile on his face all the same. At this moment, everything was perfect. Or seemingly so, at least. And then...
"Thanks, Doctor K,"
He smiled, a sinking feeling in his chest knowing what was coming next as she hoisted herself back on her feet. "Yeah, of course."
A silence falls over the two, a silence they know won't last.
"I guess I should get going," Y/n says finally, gesturing down the alleyway. "I'm meeting up with Richie later, he's swinging by my place." And for a moment, she looks hopeful and Eddie already knows what she's going to ask. "You're welcome to come. We both really miss you,"
Yet again, Eddie Kaspbrak finds himself with a million thoughts racing in his head, but no words on his tongue. What could he say that wouldn't hurt her? What could he say that wouldn't essentially admit he was still a coward who couldn't stand up to his own mother? What could he say?
But evidently, he doesn't have to. Y/n can see it in his eyes, and any trace of hope deflates with her. She nods sadly, eyes now on the ground and her freshly bandaged leg. "I get it, Eddie. It's fine. You don't have to say anything."
"Y/n..." He didn't know what felt worse; knowing he let her down, or the sound of her using his real name.
"Really, it's okay,"
But it wasn't okay. And Eddie knew that. Today he had been given a second chance with Y/n, and already he had fucked it up. Or so he thought...
A smile returned to her face just before she left; it wasn't nearly as bright as it had been moments ago, but it was as real as any other he had seen all summer. And then she spoke. She spoke the three words over her shoulder as she disappeared out of view that returned a familiar spark to his chest.
"I'll call you."
There was hope yet.
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❛ WHO'S THE ALPHA? ❜
❚❙ REQUEST BY ANON: hi there💞 can i request where reader and antiono dawson are dating in secret and she's pregnant and now they getting it on with some smut in his office and her father hank catches them with some angst please
❚❙ ANTONIO DAWSON MASTERLIST.
❚❙ WORDS: about 1.9k
❚❙ NOTES: There's no smut because I couldn't imagine the situation of being caught in the act, also keeping in mind that reader is Hank's daughter. There's no way Antonio would take that kind of risk.
❚❙ A/N: this writing hasn’t been edited, you may find some grammar mistakes, I’m sorry about that. If you find a description about body or a word out of place, or something that it makes you feel uncomfortable / unrepresented, let me know by a private message and I will change it delighted.
❚❙ GIF credits: to the author.
❚❙ Tag list: @melblacc @rebelwrites @skyofficialxx @sesamepancakes @scarletsoldierrr @mondefantastique @that-chick212 @enbyamaro @anotherfan07 @ocetevasgirl @sophie-writes @destynelseclipsa @jadakiss13. If you want to be added to my tag list, send me a message.
Since you knew this morning that you're pregnant, you haven't stopped thinking about how you are going to say it to Antonio. It's not a big deal, but it means that your father will know it too. And that's a real problem. But the happiness inside you doesn't let you worry now about that. It's been a long year hiding it from him and maybe it's a good way for him to discover it.
Honestly, you can't wait till coming to his house to tell him and, by the time it is, your father must be in your home already. So you decide to drive to the District. Antonio has to be there, since he hasn't text you yet. Leaving your car in the private parking, you walk in by the back door, going upstairs straight to the Intelligence Unit, passing away what they call the cage and the interview rooms. You can't contain the smile curving up your lips when you find your boyfriend very focused on something in his computer, writing down some kind of notes in a report. He doesn't even notice your presence, till you're in front of him.
“Voight left ten minutes ago”. He says, keeping up appearances just in case someone can hear you.
“We're alone”. You reply raising both eyebrows.
Leaning back on his chair to check both sides of his office, he drags his seat away from his desk enough for you to sit on his lap. Infected by your smile, Antonio can't help but draw the same gesture while placing an arm around your waist and his other hand on the back of your head. He's delighted to see you after a long day of paperwork and his ass stuck on his chair. Sometimes he doesn't know if it is worse to be there or to be in the street. But you're his reward, so he doesn't complain.
His lips find yours in a sigh, purring against them when he feels your warm wrapping him. The only thing he needs. His kisses are soft, slow, gentle. Just like his caresses. Just like him all the time. You found the most tender man you could ask for, and you thank God every day of your life. He takes care of you like no one else, with the most minimal details, without asking anything back. You two are made for each other, that's a fact.
“Antonio… baby, I have to tell you something”.
“Can't it wait?” He mumbles pecking your lips once and again, watching him bite his in the short meantime of meeting again.
“Yeah, actually for… like seven months, more or less”.
With his mouth on yours but not moving a single inch, he pulls himself away from you frowning confused. Your boyfriend doesn't last longer than two seconds to put his brain cells to work and connects the dots. His gesture changes from playful and joy to a big pout, as his eyes are filled up with tears.
“Dios mío”.
It's the first time you watch him crying since you know him, for more than eight years. You don't doubt cleaning the tears that fall down by his cheek, as his sobs become a little constant.
“Are you sure?” He asks with a broken tone of voice, tilting his head for a moment. You just nod in silence. “When did… you know?”
“This morning. I'm two months now… Are you… happy?”
“Of course I am, princesa”. Lively laughing, he urges you to stand up to do the same and push you into a tight hug between his arms.
Of course, it wasn't something you two planned. And of course, it wasn't something you two were expecting. But you have never felt this blissfulness in your life. You're in a rollercoaster of emotions right now, just like your boyfriend who doesn't know what to say, nor what to do more than to spread a bunch of kisses all around your face trying to transmit you every single thing he is feeling right now.
Since Laura left him, Antonio thought he would never be loved with so much intensity, and then, you clapped eyes on each other. You know him ever since practically, but that time was different. You had a rare day in the hospital and he had closed a two-months investigation satisfactory. But you were tired like never before, feeling vulnerable and with a mix of emotions roaming your bodies. You came to the District looking for your father, but he was gone to celebrate already, so he offered himself to drive you home. And it just simply happened.
One year after, you're expecting your first baby. And probably not the last.
“Making friends?”
The well known tone of voice of your father interrupts your moment. Your bodies are frozen against the other, putting distance between both slowly. Gulping and turning toward the sergeant, you watch him waving a hand waiting for an answer. The tip of his tongue licks his teeth, arching an eyebrow as his face hardens. You aren't able to say anything, looking at your boyfriend who seems more terrified than you, rubbing his forehead.
“Hm…”
Your father grabs his gun from the holster on his belt, taking the safety off. You know he's just pressuring you to talk, but you block his possible target by putting ahead of Antonio. Just in case.
“Dad… Dad, list—listen”.
“I'm listening, baby girl”. He scoffs, placing his hands crossed under his abdomen.
“We… Uh…” Your heart is racing so fast that you're afraid to collapse, until you feel one of Antonio's hands hold yours, placing himself by your side. “We're together… like… a couple”.
“You're not anymore. Go home and wait for me there”.
“Da—”.
“Don't make me say it twice, (Y/N)”.
“Go. We will talk later, I promise you”. Your boyfriend's whisper doesn't make you feel convinced, but you obey in silence not being another option.
With your arms around your abdomen and your hands trembling tangled on your own uniform, you leave the District looking back every two seconds. It's not like Hank controls your life, but this is a question of honor, and you trust in Antonio. You know they need to be alone to talk some sense into him. But you also know what is going to happen.
Two long hours sitting on your sofa, desperate with your phone between both fingers waiting for a call, a text, anything. You knew it wasn't a good idea to hide it from your father, but to be honest, you didn't know that Antonio and you could go that far. The baby wasn't something planned, it just happened. You haven't even had time to react, but you still have some hope. Hank would never forbid you to continue this relationship now that you're pregnant. Though you know it's not going to be easy for him to assimilate it.
When the lights of a big SUV illuminates the street and the facade of your house, you don't lose time getting up from your seat to run to the entrance, opening the door and waiting for your father to say something as he steps out of his car. He doesn't look happy, not at all. You've lied to him all this time and you're aware of how hurt his ego is right now. It's going to cost you more than a sorry to bring back his trust in you. Licking your bottom lip in silence, you can't help but go downstairs to meet him on his path.
Hank has his hands kept in the pocket of his jeans with a rough and disappointed gesture in his face. You aren't sure what to say, being just a couple steps away from him.
“Maybe Antonio tripped and broke his nose”. He just says with feigned innocence, causing you to arch an eyebrow and cross your arms on your chest. “He's in the Chicago Med. You should go”.
Your father is about to pass you away to the inside when you stop him by a hand on his chest, pushing him back to face you.
“You're still my favorite man on earth”. You mumble bowing your head down for a second, till he holds your hand to place a kiss on the back of it.
“That's why he isn't dead, princess”.
“Isn't it because I am pregnant, and he is the father?” Not trying to contain a soft grin, you grab his other hand to lace your fingers with his and place them on your belly, knowing it's going to work.
“His grandfather is more than enough”. Hank replies squinting at you, before tilting his head to press a kiss on your forehead.
Leaving the front of your house straight to your car, he waits for you outside till you abandon your neighborhood to take the highway and reach the hospital faster. You're ashamed, you can't lie, but if your father didn't have a single scratch means that Antonio didn't hit him back, which is good. He still knows who the alpha is. You can go against the world, but not against Hank Voight. That's a fact. Everybody in Chicago knows it.
Not caring too much about how you park your car, your legs move quicker to the Emergencies being received by Will, who is trying to not laugh pressing both lips against the other. Making you a sign with a silent congratulations, your eyes travel around the open doors till finding Antonio sitting on a stretcher with his head bowed down, swinging his feet.
Knocking on the white metallic frame, you stick your head out of it with a sweet smile on the corner of your lips. “Need a ride back home, inspector?”
“May I need a nurse too”.
His brown eyes have a shine that only appears in them when he sees you after a long, long day; when he's about to be hugged by you, kissed, touched, loved. Putting down from the stretcher, you help your boyfriend to wear his jacket and zip it up over his torso.
“You okay?” Feeling your cheeks burning because of the shame, you put both hands on his neck to take a look of his nose covered with a gauze.
“He just threatened me and punched me. Honestly, I thought he would bring me to a remote place to make me dig my own grave. I think it did quite well, don't you?”
Antonio's positivism makes you laugh, nodding with your chin. Holding your arms and taking them to his mouth, he kisses both with so much care and tenderness, before tilting his head to catch your lips between his. At first, it's weird and awkward for you to be kissen for him in public, after a year hiding it. But it only lasts a short second. You can't wait to stop containing your impulses for hugging him and holding his hand and calling him amor in front of all; not in front of your dad, obviously. You're too young to die.
#lemme know what you think in a comment! ⚡#chicago pd#chicago pd imagine#chicago pd x reader#antonio dawson#antonio dawson x reader#antonio dawson imagine
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Fate and Phantasms #196
Today on Fate and Phantasms we're building the last of the Three Goddesses Alliance, Ereshkigal! (It took her long enough to show up.)
Eresh is a Grave Cleric for relatively obvious reasons, as it lets her do pretty much everything she does- raise the dead, care for the dead, raise the dead properly, cause earthquakes, and start pandemics. Maybe don't do that last one right now, we're kinda busy with one already. It's a shame Soul Cage is a wizard spell, but pobody's nerfect.
Check out her build breakdown below the cut, or her character sheet over here!
Next up: Now all of China knows you're on the naughty list.
Race and Background
Ereshkigal is part chthonic god, part human thanks to being a pseudoservant, that means Fallen Aasimar is a pretty good choice for her. You get Darkvision, Celestial Resistance to radiant and necrotic damage, Healing Hands to heal with your hands, and the Light cantrip to help the mortals with their dumb mortal eyes, using Charisma to cast it.
She's also the Three Goddess' Representative on behalf of humanity, trying to squirrel some away to prevent them from being entirely wiped out. This gives her proficiency with Intimidation and Religion, as well as an extended spell list we'll go over as it comes up. If you're wondering about the Intimidation: Yes the fandom thinks she's cute now, but you have to remember she's still a god of death. Most people aren't going to be as chill with her.
Ability Scores
Wisdom is first, Ereshkigal spent millennia honing her art alone in the underworld, so either she has a super high wisdom or an incredibly low one. But high wisdom works better for the build, so we'll go with that. Second is Charisma- some people love you, some people are terrified of you, those are both charisma. Your Dexterity is also solid, because your armor is not. Your Constitution is above average because while we don't need it for the build have you SEEN her HP stat? Your Intelligence is okay. You're not dumb, we just need other stuff more. Finally, dump Strength. You're a bit awkward with that spear, but we'll get some stuff to make it work later.
Class Levels
You're 100% Grave Cleric, so we'll just get into it. Starting off in this subclass gets you proficiency with Wisdom and Charisma saves, as well as Persuasion to show off your awkward charms and History because you're literally older than the written word.
At first level you also enter the Circle of Mortality, so your healing spells automatically heal for max HP on creatures with 0 HP, and you get a suped-up version of the Spare the Dying cantrip that uses a bonus action and has a thirty foot range. You also get Eyes of the Grave, meaning you can sense undead creatures within 60' of you if they're not behind cover. It won't tell you about their identity though, so make sure you don't pick a fight with Strahd, you're still only level one. You can do this Wisdom modifier times per long rest.
Starting in a spellcasting class also gets you Spells, surprise surprise, and having a Ravnica background gets you even more. Being a grave cleric gets you Bane and False Life for free, giving you easy access to curses and HP boosts early in the game.
Something I want to bring up about the ravnica background before we move forward: I misread how these backgrounds work before. They add spells to your class' spell list, not your spells known. That means builds where you pick spells every level only get the opportunity to learn those spells, they don't just get all of them for free. Clerics can prepare spells from their spell list every long rest anyway so it's not a big difference here, but it is something I'll have to go back and fix for the other members of the alliance and Ishtar. Anyways, you get Illusory Script added to your spell list, not exactly something you'll probably use.
For spells you can actually choose, grab Resistance for a goddess core that adds 1d4 to your next save, Thaumaturgy for when you need to get dramatic with extra magical effects, and Toll the Dead to do just that for some necrotic damage. You can also choose to prepare spells like Command to flex your authority and Protection from Evil and Good to flex on your sister.
Second level clerics can Channel Divinity once per short rest in two flavors. Turn Undead takes care of undead that fail their wisdom save, and Path to the Grave will clear out anything else. Spend your action to curse a creature, giving vulnerability to the next attack that hits it. Rules as written you can't target a mountain with this, and you definitely can't get the bonus for an Earthquake spell, but I'd allow it for the cool factor.
Alternatively, you can Harness Divine Power to spend one use of Channel Divinity for an extra spell slot which is a level equal to or less than half your proficiency bonus. You can do this once per long rest, but that will grow as your Channel Divinity uses do.
Usually your third level doesn't get you much of anything as a cleric, but since you're a fallen aasimar you get a Necrotic Shroud, spending an action to get really spooky for a minute. Mechanically, this is your big ghostly form, and it'll frighten nearby creatures that fail a charisma save, and for the minute you're transformed you'll deal an extra bit of necrotic damage once per turn. You can go ghost once per long rest.
You also get second level spells now, including your freebies Gentle Repose to prevent people from rising back as zombies and Ray of Enfeeblement, which weakens a creature's weapon attacks for up to a minute. They can make a constitution save to shrug it off, but not until the after the spell's already hit, so at least you'll get your money's worth.
Thanks to your background you can also learn the spell Enthrall, making it harder for people to notice anyone but you. As someone who's existed in this fandom for any period of time, I can confirm Ereshkigal definitely has this ability. You can also prepare spells like Spiritual Weapon to have a spear that actually hits good and Protection from Poison for more goddess core shenanigans. Finally, make sure you pick up Silence. I'm still not entirely sure how we'll build Tiamat, but that should help shut off her immortality.
At fourth level you get your first Ability Score Improvement, which won't actually be improving your ability scores. grab the Eldritch Adept feat for the Armor of Shadows invocation so you can cast mage armor on yourself for free. You also learn how to cast Friends to make it easier to make friends and terrify your enemies.
Fifth level clerics get third level spells, including your freebies Revivify and Vampiric Touch. You're the god of the dead, so people should only really die when you want them to. Alternatively, you can Animate Dead to summon some skeletons for your own uses. You can also use Spirit Guardians to get more ghostly defenses. They'll slow down creatures of your choice in your area, and if they fail wisdom save they'll take radiant and/or necrotic damage, with it getting halved if they succeed.
At sixth level you get a second use of Channel Divinity per short rest, and a second use of Harness Divine Power per long rest. You also become a Sentinel at Death's Door, shutting down a critical hit near you as a reaction, turning it into a regular attack Wisdom Modifier times per long rest. Sure, you can bring people back later, but this is way less expensive.
Seventh level clerics get fourth level spells, like Blight and Death Ward. It is really hard for flowers to grow in the underworld. You can also use Leomund's Secret Chest thanks to your background, or you can prepare Banishment to throw Tiamat back where she came from, use Guardian of Faith for more ghosts, and leave an Aura of Purity around you to give your allies the blessings of Kur.
Eighth level clerics get another ASI, and this one will improve your ability scores. Kinda. We're grabbing another feat, but being Shadow Touched will improve your Wisdom by one point. It lets you cast Invisibility or Disguise Self once per long rest for free, or you can cast either spell as if it were a normal spell on your spell list. Now you can really make yourself look ghostly, if a bit undersized for your boss fight.
Your destroy undead also bumps up to hit CR 1 creatures, but that'll blow up your skeletons as well, so be careful with it.
Finally, Potent Spellcasting adds your wisdom modifier to your cleric cantrip damage. Nobody can toll the dead harder than the god of the dead.
Ninth level cleric, fifth level spells. Antilife Shell prevents anyone from getting too close to you, though it also means you can't get close to them without breaking the spell. It's almost poetic. Anyway, you also get Raise Dead, which is like revivify but with a more lenient time frame. You can also instigate your very own christmas event now with Contagion! This spell poisons a target, and at the end of each of its turns it has to make a Constitution save. After succeeding three throws, the spell ends. If it fails three throws, it gets a disease for the rest of the week. The closest thing to Sumerian Flu is probably Filth Fever, which gives disadvantage on saves, checks, and attacks that use strength, but there's all sorts of diseases you can give people. Technically this isn't a contagious disease, but talk to your DM, I'm sure you can work something out. You can also use Hallow to turn your room into a little slice of the underworld, shutting down your sister even further.
Tenth level clerics can invoke Divine Intervention with a 1 in 10 chance of getting a free favor from your god. Your god is you, technically, but it'll make more sense later. You can use this once per day, but it takes a week to recharge after it actually works. You can also cast the Light cantrip now. You could do it before, but now it's stronger.
Destroy Undead grows to hit CR 2 undead, and you can cast sixth level spells. Create Undead makes stronger undead for your army. Sadly dinosaur skeletons aren't available, so you'll just have to settle for ghouls. At higher levels you still won't get dinosaurs, but you can get ghasts, wights, and even mummies! Just be careful you don't stop recasting the spell, mummy rot can be rough. You can also summon a Heroes' Feast for more blessings from Kur, and you can take on an Otherworldly Form for another ghost transformation. This spell makes you immune to fire and poison damage as well as the poisoned condition. You can fly 40' per round, get +2 to AC, and you can attack with weapons using your wisdom twice per attack action. You're stuck with the UA version of this spell, so it takes an action, but on the plus side this just gives you an excuse to use Spiritual Weapon more.
Use this ASI to bump up your Constitution for more health. Health gets added retroactively, so you get +12 HP now instead of just +1. It's pretty nice.
Seventh level spells! Resurrection further cements your control over death with a time limit of a century, and you can also Plane Shift yourself (or an enemy) into the underworld.
Destroy Undead hits CR 3 creatures now. Not even mummies can stand up to your power!
Fifteenth level clerics get eight level spells. If silence won't keep Tiamat down, Antimagic Field should do the trick. The one problem there is it's only a 10' sphere around you, and you rely on magic way more than Tiamat does. You can also cause Earthquakes, turning a very large area into difficult terrain, disrupting concentration, knocking creatures prone, and destroying structures in the area. The one problem here is that you can't fly, so be careful where you're pointing that thing.
Yet another ASI. Use this one to finally max out your Wisdom for super strong spells and better protection from crits.
If you make it to level 17, you get the super powerful ninth level spells. Also, Destroy Undead hits CR 4 creatures, and you become a Keeper of Souls, stealing away some of a dying enemy's soul to heal an ally based on the creature's hit dice once per turn.
Right though, ninth level spells. True Resurrection brings someone back even if they've been disintegrated 199 years ago. It's expensive, but you can always grab some gems from your sister if you're pressed for cash. The benefits of sharing a body.
At eighteenth level you get a third Channel Divinity and another use of Harness Divine Power. Really get those paths to the grave filled, it's kind of your thing.
Use your last ASI to grab the Tough feat for 38 HP now and another 2 next level. You have one of the highest HP stats in the game, this only makes sense.
Your capstone level is an improvement to your Divine Intervention. You know how I keep bringing up multiclassing as a con when we include cleric levels? This is why. Your divine intervention now always succeeds. Period. I mean, it makes sense. You are the god giving you power. But yeah, you get guaranteed god-level power freely given as an action. You truly have the power of god and anime on your side.
Pros and Cons
Pros:
Clerics have a good variety of spells, and you take it even further with your background. You can heal but you're not completely hosed on your own like Medea Lily, you can deal damage and still do stuff outside of combat unlike your sister, and you have utility without your build being dominated by it like Hundred Personas.
You might not be good in a one on one fight, but you don't get into those that often thanks to your skeleton army. If you just dedicate harnessing divine power to keeping them in line, you can have nine extra bodies on the field to turn the action economy in your favor.
Even when we're not talking about spells, you're still really supportive of your team. Shutting down critical hits and stabilizing your allies quickly will seriously improve the longevity of your party.
Cons:
Dabbling in so many areas of magic means you're unfocused, so you won't excel in any one. You won't heal as much as Medea, deal as much damage as Ishtar, or be a skill monkey like Hundred Personas.
You also rely on magic completely for combat, which means stepping into an anti-magic zone can be deadly. This is especially bad for you, since an anti-magic zone will probably be the best way to deal with Tiamat.
You might have an undead army, but your best spells are area of effect and you're a cleric. Destroy Undead is kind of a big deal for you.
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JACKSON ‘JAX’ TELLER x READER ⨟ PROMPT
Anon #1 asked: Helloo! Could I request a jax teller x reader! A Jealousy one💕 Thank you
Anon #2 asked: 87+104 w/ jax teller please?
Prompts:
87. “Put on my kutte”.
104. “Don’t ask me to stop, I’m just gonna go harder”.
WARNINGS: NSFW, SMUT
Word Count: 2.5k
Author comments: This work wasn't re-edited, so I'm sorry if you find grammar mistakes! I hope you all enjoy. Gif isn't mine, credits to the author.
Tag list: @starrynite7114 @chibsytelford @dazzledamazon @mara-mpou @sammskellington @gemini0410 @1-800-imagines @briana-mishell24 @sassymox @whyisgmora @aquamento @sadeyesgf @viviansafizada @samcrobae @jade770 @witchy-wish @rebel-without-cause-x @xx--day-dreamer--xx @spiced-reads @tita127 @ifoundmyhappythought @enamouravecleslivresetlechocolat @angelxshiba @destynelseclipsa @sheeshgivemeabreak @abbiesthings @knowles-morgan @lady-pswrld @minnicelli @marquelapage @bigcreatorwombatdreamer @jadesamhart @mycupoffanfiction @agirllovespasta @ottosuricato ✨ (if you wanna be tagged, send me a message!)
“Having fun with Rafi?”
His voice doesn't surprise you, giving him your back while you look for the tequila Marcus has asked for. You know exactly what's happening and you're trying to not laugh in his face, or this shit is going to be serious. But it's the same situation when Sons of Anarchy and Mayans have a party together. Rafi, president's right hand, is pretty kind with you and an interesting man, so yes. You have a lot of fun talking about something else than motorbikes, drugs, guns and bitches. Before you can turn around to leave the warehouse, a hand surrounds your throat, feeling Jax's chest accommodating against your back.
“I. Asked. You. A. Question”. He says into your ear, sounding a little angry and upset.
You know exactly how it works, how he works. But you're not in this shit anymore. It's been six months since you fucked for the first time. Sex is good. So fucking good. But you're catching feelings and you don't know if he cares about you in the same way. His jealousy confuses you, because no man can touch you but you gotta put up with whores flirting with him.
“Yes”. You just say, keeping some seconds of silence. “I'm having fun with my friend. Are you having fun with those bitches, uh? All th—”.
“We are not talking about me, darling”. His free arm wraps your abdomen, pushing you a little more closer, while his fingers squeeze your neck.
“We should”.
You know that these words have confused him when he puts away his hands to let you turn around. You're frowning your eyebrows, crossing your arms over your chest.
“I'm not… gonna blame you for anything. But if I don't have the right to tell you who can or who can't touch you, you're not gonna do it, Jackson”. You say with a firm tone of voice.
The man turns his legs to stretch a hand and close the door, locking it to not be bothered by anybody. You can see how his face turns from confusion to incredulity, from zero to one hundred, in just one second.
“I don't want anyone else, (Y/N)”.
“Then, prove it. But don't demand me a respect that you don't show me. You wanna be fuck friends? Cool. I don't have any… compromise or a relationship with you, I get it. But then, I can do whatever the fuck I wanna do”.
“That's it? It's a question of status?”
“It's a question of that I love you, Jax. I truly do. For who you are to me, not for who you are to them. I don't give a shit about your club and your matching outfits of badass bikers. I'm more into what you make me feel when we're alone, without having a knife hanging on your belt”.
“So, you're basically asking me to be my Old Lady”.
“No, Jax! Why the fuck you end up bringing everything to the club business? You're not the fucking president of the United States, and I'm not that… bitch. I wa—”.
“The club is my life. And if you don't understand it, it's because you don't know me, (Y/N)”.
You nod. You don't want to think about these words, because it's enough pain what you are feeling without thinking about it.
“Then, I don't know you. And I don't want to”. You sentence, before leaving the warehouse. And the party.
You would be lying if you say that you slept last night. Even if you didn't want it, his last words were chasing you the whole time, walking through your house and touring every room trying to get tired to sleep. But there you are, sitting at the table in the kitchen, holding a mug of coffee and having a sip. Your gaze is in the middle of nowhere, not knowing if you are disappointed or dealing with a broken heart.
The door ring pushes you back to the real world, dragging backwards the chair to get up from it. Covering your mouth with a hand, because of a loud yawn, you open the main door to find Jax there. He looks like shit too, with the same black bags under his eyes, the same clothes and messy tufts of blonde hair falling on his forehead. Supporting a shoulder against the frame, you cross your hands on your abdomen.
“Can I come in?”
“No”.
He nods biting the inside of his lower lip.
“I'm sorry about last night”.
“Yeah, me too”.
“Are you…?”
“Yeah. I'm sorry for telling you about my feelings. The last thing I was expecting was you shitting on them”.
“Listen…” He says rubbing his face with both hands, pulling back his hair. “I'm sorry for talking to you as I did. I really want you to be my girlfriend, or whatever you want”.
“Why now do you want it? What you didn't want it like… seven hours ago? What changed? That I sent you to hell? Is that? I didn't know you were the kind of child who wants his toy back, when someone else is playing with it”.
“Could you please stop being this rude?”
“This rude? Oh, do you mean the same ‘rude’ you were last night, Jackson?” Rolling your eyes, you chuckle.
“I'm telling you that I love you, (Y/N)”.
“Good, thank you. Anything else?”.
“Shit… If you were one of my brothers…”
“What? You would punch me?” Standing up from the door, you raise both eyebrows. “Try me, blonde bitch”.
Adopting the look on your face, he can't believe what he's hearing. But he likes it. He likes the fact that you're talking to him without giving a shit about his club, his job, or whatever other thing. Touring his lower lip with the tip of his tongue, he gives a quick step to grab your throat with ringed fingers, pushing you into your house to close the door. You're not scared, you're not even thinking about defending yourself because you already know what it's going to happen.
The blonde man crashes your lips with his, tangling your fingers on the Reaper Crew shirt under the kutte, while you walk backwards to the sofa. He urges you to sit on his lap with his legs among yours, pawing your body desperately while your hips swing over the growing lump under his jeans. The rage because of your behaviors and the feeling of alleviate get mixed inside your mouth, and your tongues giving a pulse to each other. Taking you off the shirt over your hair, his teeth attack one of your nipples to suck and bite it, while the other receives the attention it needs pinching it with his fingers. Yours getting tangled on his hair, gasping with closed eyes, looking for some friction for your core.
“Fuck, Jax…”
“Don't ask me to stop, darling, I'm just gonna go harder”. He growls onto your skin undoing his belt and the zip of his jeans.
Without asking for it, nor expecting, Jax thrusts two ringed fingers inside you using all his strength, until his hand finds your limits. A pleasure scream comes out from your mouth, with his pace speeding up.
“You're the only bitch I'm gonna fuck”.
“Call me bitch again and…”
You can't stop the threat, when he pounds you harder.
“You what, honey? I didn't hear you”.
You try to speak two times more, having the same result. Jackson is teasing you and chuckling because of your reactions, until you slap his chest.
“Fuck me, baby”. You get to say, looking for his blue eyes.
“Get up, take off those panties and put on my kutte”.
Following the instructions in silence, the Son takes the advantage to roll down his jeans and his boxers to his ankles, throwing away his own shirt. His right hand goes to his hard dick, the one you love to ride and suck, watching you so focused on the way you have to wear the leather kutte of his club. And he can swear that he hasn't seen anything more perfect than it. Jerking himself off, Jax looks at you kneeling over the sofa to sit on him.
“I would let you be my president”. He jokes rubbing the head of his cock against your clit, provoking you a soft moan. “I love how your pussy feels, darling… Warm as fuck, suffocating me, suffocating my cock. I wanna fuck it every night. I wanna fuck you every night”.
“And every morning”.
“All the time”.
Moving your waist from back to forward, you focus your attention on his parted lips begging for something else.
“Ride me, darling”. He asks, getting a little more comfortable on the sofa.
You bounce onto his cock without waiting for any single word, separating your legs over the cushion to go deeper. Jax is big, so big, and when you're more than one day without being fucked by him, you need to take some seconds to adapt your tightness to how hard he is.
“This pussy drives me insane… You're so fucking wet I could drown myself in it”. He mumbles putting a hand on your pelvis to bring his thumb to your clit, stroking it to make you feel better. “I could eat you out the whole time. You're fucking delicious”.
“I'm gonna fuck you like no one else can, my prince”. You mutter resting your forehead on his, before starting to move.
And you don't work him slow like sometimes, you go rough, fast and anxious hitting your g-spot every time you let your body fall down. Every pound brings you to heaven, drinking his pleasured grunts when your wetness wraps his sensible skin so fast that he doesn't have time to finish a moan and start another one. Your hips dance furious above him, trying to show to the Son one of the things you can offer him, although he already knows it well.
His free hand slaps your ass hardly, making your back get arched because of the stinging, screaming out his name every time he does it; as if he was punishing you. But you like it. You like that he doesn't control himself, wanting to please you every single second, while you ride wildly his cock. Your cock. He has you bewitched, rapturous, out of the world with his thumb jerking off your clit with the same speed that you're fucking him. No mercy, non-stop, careless. Just you two giving in to your most primal instincts.
Leaning over him you catch his mouth with your teeth, biting his lips before kissing them, with all his fingers getting nailed on your buttocks. Squeezing and pinching them, leaving some beautiful marks that are going to hurt like hell.
“Shit, darling… Look at your fucking precious pussy, engorging my big dick once and again… to the limit.. Does it feel good? Do you like my dick, uh?”
“Yes… I fucking love it. I fucking love when you grab my hair and fuck my mouth inside my car”.
“Yeah, you like it? How much, my princess? Tell me”.
“Fucking much, Jackson… I love when you wake me up fucking my pussy, always ready for you. And when you're so fucking jealous, grabbing my throat and impaling me until making me cum”.
“Do you like that much?”
You nod in silence, feeling your legs starting to shake close to the orgasm.
“What about my mouth? Do you like it?”
“Fuck… Yes, Jackson. I love when you eat my pussy… When you come from the club and eat my wet pussy on the counter… Your tongue licking me, oh, shit…”
“You taste so good, my love… I love your little pussy”.
“Fuck, Jax… I'm gonna fucking cum…”
“Go harder, baby. I wanna feel you”.
You speed up with every thrust to your center, being wrapped by the sweat and the heat of the moment, crying out his name with your back arched at the moment you reach the orgasm. He fills you up, maintaining your gaze and enjoying the look on your face. So pleased, so ecstatic, running out of air.
“Put on your knees, darling… I'm gonna fuck your mouth as you like”.
You have to take some seconds on top of him to process the order, before doing it, settling yourself between his legs over the floor. Jax grabs your head with both hands pounding your mouth with fury, while your lips wrap all his extension, hitting your throat once and again. It hurts you sometimes, but you love it. The Son presses his swollen glans against your limits when he fills your mouth up, feeling his hot cum spilling inside it. He growls loudly lifting up a little his pelvis, with your nose touching his skin, forcing you to take it all.
“Fuck, darling… Fuck… It feels so fucking good…”
When he frees yourself of his cock, and some threads of your saliva mixed with his seed falls down by the corner or your lips, Jackson urges you to lie down on the sofa while you try to recover your breath. And when you're trying it, cleaning your mouth with the back of your hand, his tongue finds your throbbing core sucking it as if it was going to be the last thing he was to do in his life. Placing both legs over his shoulders, he cleans every trail of your juices, drinking them so delighted that you're about tu cum a second time when he slides three fingers inside you.
“Oh, fuck, Jackson!”
Shrinking under his caresses, you bring down your hands to his hair, sinking his face into your pussy. He's devouring it like no one else could do it, keeping his eyes on you with his ringed fingers fucking you so painfully pleasant that you can't help but find the ecstasy again. The heat is suffocating you, but he doesn't stop. His tongue toures your entrance, before catching your clit among his teeth biting it gently.
“FUCK, JACKSON… JACKSON, PLEASE, STOP”.
You're inside a bubble of pleasure and you are about to cry. You have never felt this good, but he's making it up to you as hard as he can. Pulling out his fingers of your tired pussy, he licks them crawling above your body before tucking them inside your mouth.
“Taste them… This is the most fucking delicious thing I ever had the opportunity to relish, darling”.
Tasting yourself, you spread your legs to give him some space for his body.
“I fucking love you, keep it in your fucking mind, (Y/N)”.
#sons of anarchy x reader#sons of anarchy imagine#sons of anarchy#jackson teller#jackson jax teller x reader#jax teller imagine#jax teller x reader#jax teller
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