#there's a reason i wanted a tattoo of that line LMAO
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a random/mini hc: seven has a tattoo on his left upper arm--a colorful
retro-looking space ship, surrounded by a few planets/stars, like this.
edit: he also has both of his ears, his septum, and tongue pierced.
#* && OOC#* && 707 : HAPPY-GO-LUCKY / HACKER .#tattoos aren't illegal in korea but getting them done by a non-medical professional is + they're looked down upon a bit according to google#but considering seven's line of work as a hacker in a secret agency#i wouldn't put it past him y'know? asdfghjkl he's so eccentric anyway#there isn't 2 big of a reason behind it he just rlly likes space and rockets and the science behind it. wanted to be an astronaut as a kid#he also an identification number from the agency somewhere on him#probably the back of his neck or something... but that's less fun lmao
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habits of a clandestine nature | jjk
pairing: collegejk x female oc (angst, smut)
warnings: college!jk, rich!jk, he's a college nepo baby!!!, waitress!oc, flashbacks to summer, (mild) enemies to lovers, oc lives with tae (they're besties), jk is besties with jimin, mentions of parents infidelity, mentions of oc's virginity (lost prior to the story starting), a little angsty, jk is nawt a fuckboi, but he is stewpid, unprotected sex, bathroom escapades, multiple positions, oral (f), mentions of blowjobs, house parties, jackson wang!!!!!!!, yoongi has no lines but is also one of my fave characters lmao
wordcount: 16k
note from holly: this was written as a commission over on ko-fi!! it went through soooo many changes and edits - at one point it was over 24k lmao. i have so much lore and backstory for this couple, but I'll save it for a rainy day!! one of the main prompts was the 2004 classic a cinderella story, and there are little nods to it throughout the story, including the diner name!! a commenter on wattpad said the pairing reminded them of danny and sandy from grease and like... i see it lmao. anywaysss enjoy!! <33
minors dni // cross posted to wattpad
It's a well-trained habit, your fleeting glance towards the door of Montgomery's Diner when the bell rings.
Though the clatter of cheap porcelain being stacked on a tray almost manages to drown out the chiming metal, it's never quite enough. Softening your hardened expression, you continue on with your work, careful to not let your contempt show too much.
You already know who it is—or at least, who it could be. Only saw the girl leading the pack, but know that where Claudia goes, the rest of The Untouchables will surely follow.
Gorgeous in a way that money can't buy, and careless in a way that money makes up for, she's never taken personal issue with you. Barely even registers your existence.
From your quick look, you know that it's not just the girls today. It's the guys, too.
All with parents on the college board, they're regarded as campus royalty. Are aptly known as The Untouchables, 'cause the rules that apply to you don't apply to them. They'll likely continue with their lives in a similar manner for years to come, and will pass these attributes off to their offspring, whom they'll name after countries or distant relatives who were once regarded to be regal.
Gathering up the last of the discarded napkins on the table, you take one final, fleeting look just to see if a familiar face is with them.
It's not that you actively want to see him.
You just haven't seen him in the best part of a fortnight, which is odd.
He's been in your section of the Diner near enough every single night of the past three months—but school is starting up again, and he's got appearances to keep.
God-forbid Jeon Jungkook—son of the Admissions Director and heir-apparent to an unholy amount of real estate tied to the university—ever associates with the lowly scholarship kids like you.
The only reason The Untouchables ever come to this Diner is because it's the last remaining place close to the university that hasn't been snapped up and integrated into the campus. You guess it must feel like freedom to them, in a way.
In fact, you know this is the case. Jungkook has told you himself.
Has told you a lot.
Told you far too much.
Such candid honesty from him, shared during the lonely heat of a sweltering summer, is what makes it so jarring when he looks away as soon as his dark eyes meet yours.
Tall, broad, handsome; he's everything the gossip magazines you read during your downtime swoon over, but also everything they warn against. Too pretty for his own good, the resident agony aunt would call him if she were ever to see him. Would assume his ego is far larger than his shoe size; superiority complex embedded into his skin like the ink of his tattoos.
And while you think that perhaps those assumptions could be true, you also know the reality of him; how gentle his hands can be. Helpful, too. Delicate. Ornate, almost, when they fold bills into five petal flowers. Strong, when they grip the back of your neck. Commanding, when they're wrapped around his leather steering wheel.
You shouldn't know the way his car smells. Shouldn't know how he presses the heel of his palm against the wheel when he's reversing, or just how easy it is to clamber into the backseats over the centre console.
But you do, and it rests on your tongue like a dirty little secret desperate to escape: I know you.
You're not sure if you know him better than The Untouchables, but you know him independent of them. Not many people do.
It's rare to find him without Jimin cracking a joke by his side, or Claudia making a slightly mean remark masked as innocent ignorance as she leads him astray.
But summer happened, and so did Jungkook. With his friends away at their holiday homes, and his father's infidelity ripping his family apart at the seams, he'd needed something to stitch himself back together. Let you thread yourself through his very being, and once you'd tied yourself in a pretty little bow around his heart, he'd cut you off.
Is that not what all craftsmen do, though? Discard what no longer serves a purpose?
Memories of him, in all the places you never should have let him in, ravage your thoughts.
The scent of his aftershave lingers on the childhood plushie he used to tease you for having on your bed, but would also automatically hug into his chest every single time he entered your room.
The things he did—and the things he didn't do—corrupt your dreams and leave you restless when you wake.
The smudged mascara under your eyes hides the bags from your lack of sleep, and your only respite is that the little puffs beneath his eyes are extra prominent today. He's tried, too.
For a minute, you feel vindicated.
It doesn't last.
For the past few months, if he's been sleeping badly, you've known about it. Kept him company in this very Diner, or in the basement of a party house he was dumb enough to take you to, forgetting he'd have to return there after summer finished, too.
The walls might not talk, but Jackson Wang certainly does. Jungkook knows it's only a matter of time until his dirty little secrets—no matter how pure they actually are—become the talk of the town.
He always slept well in your bedroom, though.
Funny, that.
He's dressed simply, today: white t-shirt, black jeans, chunky black boots on his feet. It's still warm out, even if the sun does begin to set a little earlier than it had been during the hotter months. He's got no need for a jacket, and you despise how undeniably gorgeous his arms are in the dewy humidity. Tattoos trailing up and down his skin, you'd be forgiven for thinking he was a man of complexities.
Turns out he's just like every other good-for-nothing fuck boy who wasn't worth your time.
The Untouchables sit towards the front of the Diner. Your section is at the back, and there's no way in hell you're deviating from your set section. Not today. Not when he's with them.
"I thought we were free," your colleague, Maria, grumbles as you bring your tray to the counter.
Like you, she's a scholarship kid. Is the one who got you the job at the Diner after you both moved into the shared house you live in off-campus. Three of you live there—you, Maria, and Taehyung—and you all share the same disdain for The Untouchables.
"It never ends," you tease in reply. Glance over your shoulder, back at the table.
They're laughing and joking about something you can't quite decipher. All of them, except Jungkook.
There's a sternness to him. One of which you'd forgotten about. With one hand on the table, the other in his lap, his thumb fidgets over his tense knuckles. Sunglasses rest on the crown of his head, pushed up into his hair to hold it back off his face. Staring at nothing much, he's chewing up his bottom lip until he feels the familiar burn of your eyes on him. Looks your way.
It's curious, how looking at you halts his body from its self-soothing actions. He no longer nibbles on his lip. His tightly balled first eases.
"What do you think, Kookie?" Claudia drawls, drawing his attention back to the group. "You coming tonight?"
"Hm?" He questions, eyes pulling away from you. He begins to rub his thumb over his knuckles again. "Sorry, was just looking at the menu board. What are we talking about?"
"Party at the Conservatory," Jimin says from across the table. Though he's the one sitting beside Claudia, everyone knows Jungkook is the one that she's really interested in. Has been since their first day of college. "First of the semester. It's one of their birthdays. Reckon it'll be a big one."
On campus, but close enough to the boundaries that it's never infringed upon by security or university officials, the Conservatory isn't what it seems. A boarding house for the creme-de-la-creme of the Botany and Conservation PhD students, it's surrounded by land. Has rows upon rows of greenhouses for their projects.
Of the few times you've been there, you've always thought it was like a maze. The perfect place to get lost. The perfect place to get found, too.
Unfortunately for the PhD students, the house custodian took on the role for one thing and one thing only: to throw the biggest ragers on campus. Knows fuck all about growing anything that isn't illegal. Only managed to get the role, 'cause like the rest of The Untouchables, his dad works high up in the college. He's a few years older than them. Belongs to a different generation of campus royalty, but is keen on making sure his legacy remains.
After all, there ain't no party like a Jackson Wang party.
Namjoon—one of the Botanists and the birthday boy himself—has started padlocking the greenhouses.
Another one of them—Yoongi—minored in mechanical engineering. Has a coin-operated lock on his bathroom door. Makes enough money from a single Jackson Wang party to sustain himself for an entire month.
Hoseok and Jin, the remaining two, are just as messy as Jackson. Have only started PhDs because they don't know what else to do and don't want their youth to abruptly end. Live for the parties; survive for the studying.
"Now, who's told you that?" Jungkook smiles, as if the prospect of showing up at the Conservatory doesn't make him feel a little bit sick. "Jackson?"
"Obviously."
"Well, of course he's gonna tell you it'll be big," Jungkook laughs. "Wants to rope as many of you fuckers in as he can."
"And it works every time," Jimin smirks back. "If everyone thinks it'll be a rager, everyone will want to go. He's a marketing genius, if you ask me."
Jungkook rolls his eyes. Is fond in how he interacts with his friends. Has grown up with most of them. Whether or not they're everyones cup of tea is debatable, but they're his people.
And yet he finds himself glancing back over to the counter. You're not there anymore. Are out back, he assumes. Knows the layout, now. Where the walk-in freezer is. The little nook that you sit in during your break. He doubts any of his friends have ever been in a commercial kitchen, let alone one at a place like this.
While yes, his friends have only ever been good to him, he knows that it isn't the case for everyone they interact with. Is well aware that his friends would be confused beyond belief if they ever found out he knows how to click through the Diner's cash register and find the discount section. Would be even more perplexed if they were to see his initials hidden in one of the codes.
But summer was lonely.
Or at least it was.
Lonely, until it wasn't. Isolating, until he sought solace in someone he can't even bring himself to speak to in front of his friends.
Casting his eyes back down to the table, well aware that he's got no reason to feel as cut up as he does, he fakes a laugh. Looks up again at his friends with a grin so sincere that they'd never guess the way it feels like his heart is in his throat. "Alright. You're on. What time?"
The conversation dissolves into plans—what to wear, what drink to take.
After a summer apart, Jungkook thought it would be nice to be with his friends again. Thought he'd be excited; that he'd welcome them all back with open arms. Ask them about their summers, and lament his time spent here.
When Jimin asks him why he didn't go to the Italian villa his parents normally insist they spend the summer at, Jungkook shrugs.
"Dad has some stuff to sort out, so it was better to stay here," he says, minimising the reality of what really happened. Even you don't know for certain. All you know is that his father did something incredibly immoral, to the point where Jungkook can't even stand to look at him.
Is why he spent all those nights in the diner.
Was confusing at first. He was always angry. Always frowning. Always ordering black coffees and nothing else, huddled up in the corner booth, away from the world.
But with summer comes monsoons, and with monsoons come terrible conditions for walking home.
He expected you to say no when he offered you a ride. You expected to say no, too—but then a please and thank you had escaped your lips.
A routine grew. Habits formed.
Curious little thing, habits are. 21 days. That's all the time they take to develop.
Jungkook spent 63 days of summer with you in varying capacities. Enough time to learn a habit three times over.
The one that haunts him most is how it felt to have your hand beneath his on his gear stick. Finds the absence of you when he drives unbearable. Knows he's got no one to blame but himself; not just for creating distance, but also for minimising it in the first place.
He's the one who offered you a lift. He's the one who messaged you on your days off to see if you fancied going for a drive. He's the one who didn't turn the AC on just to get you shaking your jacket off your shoulders.
And he's the one that drove you out to the coast one evening for no other reason than wanting to hear the waves. He's the one who opened up to you about his family. He's the one that made things more than what they were.
Had walked along the shore with you, too scared to hold your hand beneath the lunar light. Opted for playful banter instead, nudging you into the lapping waves.
But the waves got bigger, and Jungkook's unbridled desire to have you close did just the same. Like always, he took things too far. Drenched in sea water, you'd laughed with him for the entire ride home.
Invited him in. Said, "The salt will ruin your clothes. We should wash them."
"Hand wash only," he'd said, pinging his damp t-shirt against his chest. It stuck to him in such a way you learned all of his edges before you ever saw him naked—not like there was much time between these two instances. Ended up in your shower with him, clothes beneath your feet, the excuse of hand washing disregarded the second he had you naked.
You learned three things about Jungkook in that shower.
The first is that he giggles. Lips on yours, hands clutching your jaw, whenever the water was a little too intrusive, he'd separate with a laugh. Would kiss you again, a smile still on his face. Would pretend as if he wasn't giggling.
But he was, and it was lovely.
The second was that he's the type to lean his head forward, not tip it back. With his hands pressed to the shower tiles behind you as your fingers wrapped around his thick shaft, he let his head dip to his chest. Gave him ample opportunity to press kisses to the top of your head—or at least it did until you got to your knees and started taking his hard cock in your mouth.
"Shit," he had husked. Whined. Praised. "Fuck. You're so fuckin' good at that."
It was around then that you became aware he was a head pusher, too.
Almost as if he was saving the best until last, the third thing you learned was how he likes to cum; in your sheets, cock buried in your pussy, your hands clasped above your head. Missionary, 'cause he likes to kiss you through it. In your bed, 'cause he likes losing himself in everything you are. Prefers finishing inside you, but you refuse to fuck him without a condom so he never gets exactly what he wants. It's close enough, though.
Spent weeks—months—laying unfair claim to your body, and now he can't bring himself to look in your direction. It infuriates you.
But more than anything else, it embarrasses you.
Even your reflection laughs at you. Cackles 'told you so' every time you look in the mirror.
You always wondered why you never heard much about Jungkook's hook ups around campus. Everyone knows about Jimin and how his cock has been perpetually wet since the first day of freshers week, but there's always been a secrecy when it comes to Jungkook.
It's something you've teased him about; in your sheets, bodies clammy, his heart beating so fast in his chest you'd been forgiven for thinking he'd just run a marathon.
"When do I have to sign it?" You had giggled.
"Sign what?" He'd husked, voice all wispy and fucked out.
"The NDA," you'd replied as if it was obvious. "It's been, like, what? A month? Surely it's about time you made sure I kept my mouth shut like all your other girls do?"
On your front, your arms were folded over his chest, and he was gently rearranging the pretty little updo he'd made a mess of. Though he was looking at his hands as he replied, you kept your eyes on his. Studied his sincerity.
"Reason you don't hear about other girls is 'cause there aren't any."
A smile twitched at the corner of your lips, but you didn't let it shine for him.
"Sure."
There was a small jerk to his torso as a breathy smirk formed on his face.
"You think I can't be trusted?"
"I think it's foolish to trust any man."
His deep, dark eyes sank down to focus on yours. Offered you all the sincerity you'd be searching for, and more.
"That's all I am, huh?" He'd challenged you. "Just another one of your men?"
"One of the many," you'd teased just to rile him up a little.
"Ah," he'd played along. "So that's why I always have to wear a condom?"
With a saccharine smirk on your lips, you'd gotten back in position, legs straddled over his hips. Had kissed him. Whispered, "No. That's just because I know it annoys you."
"You annoy me all the time," he'd mumbled into your lips, hands gripping your waist to get you grinding against his still sensitive cock. Barely fifteen minutes since he'd last finished, there was no way he was ready to go again.
"Hm?" You'd hummed against his kisses, then began to work your way down his neck in a way that always got him a little moany. "If I'm so annoying, why are you getting hard again, baby?"
"You can be annoying and hot," he told you as he desperately tried to not let his insatiable need for you show.
"Is that how you like your girls?" You'd ribbed once more, just to piss him off a little. It was never serious. Never something you would actually fret over.
Perhaps you should have done, but then he told you with a little too much candour, "No. It's how I like my girl. Singular."
Loose lips sink ships, and Jungkook was one iceberg away from greeting the ocean floor. Closing his lips back down on yours, he was making sure you were just as insatiable for him as he was for you. He didn't cum again that evening, even if you did more times than you cared to count.
A greedy lover, is Jeon Jungkook. Edacious.
And so you understand, now, why the girls he gets entangled with stay silent; how the hoaxes he plays leave them utterly hysterical. They're subject to silence, because who would possibly believe all those sweet little lies he tells? How mad would they be considered if they tried to convince anyone he has a heart?
His brazen lack of humanity is proven when he comes to pay for the table. Any of them could have done it. Yet he elects to stand in front of your till and wait for you to serve him.
Have you not served him enough?
You refuse to utter a single word in his direction. Don't look at him, don't give him any satisfaction. He can read it for himself, he can pay, and he can fuck off.
"Keep the change," he mumbles tossing down the bills—but like fuck are you gonna keep anything he gives you.
He begins to walk away, a little shrunken in his stature.
"Excuse me, sir."
Stopping dead in his tracks, Jungkook is perplexed to hear you address him so coldly.
"Your change," you say, holding a closed hand out for him to hold his own hand beneath. He doesn't want to cause a scene. Obliges. Is surprised when notes, not coins, fall into his palm.
More specifically, notes folded into the shape of flowers. His handiwork, he's certain. Was something he used to do in the early hours of your late night diner shifts. If he said something a little mean, or bickered with you a little too hard, he'd fold his notes up like posies and give them to you as a remedy.
Never used those notes to buy you real flowers, mind you.
Back when things were still easy, you pulled him up on it. Told him that you'd be far easier to seduce with a little wooing. He'd told you that you were easy to seduce regardless.
You didn't speak to him for the rest of your shift.
Ended it with fourteen folded bills in the shape of a bouquet, and when the backseat windows of his car had a thick veil of condensation coating them that same evening, he'd drawn you flowers on them.
"No point in flowers," he'd told you. "They just wither up and die."
Which is funny, 'cause it kinda looks like Jungkook is doing that very same thing right in this moment. He goes to speak, but nothing comes out.
Disappointing, you think, then realise of course he is. Has done nothing but disappoint you.
You smile. Jungkook looks like he wants to cry. Good.
"Don't let the door hit you on the way out."
21 repetitions. That's how many times it takes to form a habit. You know this.
You also know that 90 days of this repetition will form a habit to last a lifetime.
As you hook up your apron, and free your hair of the ribbon that had been tightly wrapped around your ponytail, you know these are 'lifetime' habits. Apron, then ponytail. Always.
But when you say goodbye to Maria, and ask if she'll be at home this evening, you find yourself leaning into a recently formed habit. It's not anything particularly noteworthy. Not something anyone would notice.
Well, not anyone who matters. You don't think Jungkook counts as someone who matters, anymore.
But he'd noticed; how you'd started glancing across to his parking spot whenever you clocked out. Had teased you for it. Asked you if it was the highlight of your day, seeing him there, as if it wasn't the highlight of his.
You should have known the playful banter when he told you not to get used to it wasn't really banter at all.
Yet here you are, glancing across to his parking spot only to see it empty.
It's not even like it's his spot. Whenever he's with his friends, they walk. Live right on campus, so don't need to drive, and if they do, they'll park right by the doors.
In the height of summer, when the lot was empty and Jungkook wasn't driving for his sake but for yours, he liked to park in the far corner. Said dumb shit about not wanting any weirdos scratching it. Whined and moaned whenever someone performed the very human act of parking next to the only other car in an empty parking lot.
"So many spaces!" He'd blather on. Would speak with his hands. Get deliberately more animated, 'cause it always made you laugh. "And they choose here?!"
The memories make you smile, until the yellow headlights of another car flood into the parking lot. They reveal what's right in front of you; a crowd of cars and not a single one of them you care for.
It's not like you cared for Jungkook, either. Was just something to pass the time when the streets were quiet and his head was loud.
In turn, you gave him quiet, and he made your summer feel loud.
But the leaves are turning brown and the water in the roadside puddles is becoming stale. The seasons have changed and so has the nature of your interactions. It's fine. You don't care. Really. Couldn't think of anyone you'd want to hang around less. Would rather die than associate with The Untouchables.
You never needed a lift, not really. Especially not when it always took you an hour to get home 'cause Jungkook just wanted to keep on driving.
Grumbling to yourself just to try and divert your mind from thoughts of him, your heart almost skips a beat when your phone vibrates in your pocket. For a second, you wonder if it could be him.
Where you at? It could read. I'm here.
Or maybe, I miss you.
I can't sleep without you.
This is so stupid. Can I come over?
It won't say of those things and you damn well know it.
Your text thread is dormant. The last message is from you, two weeks prior.
You: you not coming in tonight?
You: you'll be pleased to know my fairy godmother turned a pumpkin into a carriage to make sure i got home safe x
You: ... at least let me know if ur alive?
Rolling your eyes at how mortifying your desperation feels, the scowl that settles into your expression is comical. It's like you're fighting with the wind that's threading itself through your hair.
Pulling your phone out, the scowl only intensifies.
Jackass Wang: party tonight
You: so????
One thing about Jackson is that he's not gonna leave anyone on read, especially when he's trying to drum up attendees for his parties.
Jackass Wang: so i haven't seen you around for a while, montgomery
"Fuckin' Montgomery," you mutter at the nickname.
It's the one that all of Jungkook's friends seem to refer to you as, as if you don't have a personality outside of your job.
Still, at least Jackson is a little bit inventive with it. Calls you Monts. Monty, Monstera Plant, Monte Carlo, and god knows what else. If it starts with 'Mon,' he's found a way to end it with a cheeky smirk and smug anticipatory look in your direction, as he awaits your reaction.
You: i like it better when i don't see you x
Jackass Wang: you know that isn't true. loverboy will be there. come with him. or don't. i don't care. you can bring your little friends with you.
You: they'd rather die :) x
Jackass Wang: y'know, you're replying an awful lot for a girl who's not interested ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
You: you just can't take no for an answer
Jackass Wang: yes i can - but you haven't said no yet. c'mon. loverboy has been moping around all week. i can't be arsed with his mardy ass energy all evening.
You: so don't invite him???? i don't see why it's my problem?????
The fact that you don't need clarification of who Jackson means is proof enough that perhaps Jackson's onto something.
Jackass Wang: conservatory any time after 9. be there or be square montgomery. or don't be. i'm sure loverboy can get his dick wet without you, but it's easier for everyone if he doesn't.
You: charming x
Jackass Wang: it's why the ladies love me.
You: all of them except this one, apparently. have a nice party. stay away from the drugs.
Jackass Wang: can't be tamed, monte carlo. nor can loverboy. come keep him company.
The block button towards the top of your message thread looks incredibly tempting. Just a single click and you'll never have to deal with Jackson Wang and his dumb parties ever again.
Part of you can't believe you've ever been associated with them, as it is.
Summer defied the conventions of the life you've built for yourself. You weren't the person you thought you were.
Kicking off your shoes when you arrive home, the door slams shut behind you. A gentle voice calls through to check if it's you.
"Maria's still working," you say as you walk into the kitchen, tossing your bag down on the floor and your phone on the counter.
Taehyung, your best friend since your first week at college, is cooking himself dinner, but offers you a spoon of the tomato sauce he's making. Humming as you taste it, you're amazed by how he manages to make even the simplest thing delicious.
"S'good. What is that? Cumin?"
Nodding, he smiles. "A little paprika, too. You want some?"
His hair is dishevelled, blonde and sunkissed from the sweltering summer skies. He always looks great with a tan; radiant and full of youth.
Shaking your head, you really don't have an appetite. "Think I'm gonna have an early night."
He's about to reply when your phone buzzes. Both of you glance down. Your skin feels red hot, and when Taehyung almost chokes on the spoonful of sauce he's just tried, he's all sorts of confused.
"Why the fuck is Jackson Wang messaging you?"
"Hmm?" You hum as if you have no idea what he's talking about. Realise from the look on his face that he doesn't buy it for a second. "Oh! That Jackson Wang. Think he sent a text to his entire contact list. Something about a party."
"No," Taehyung asserts. "Absolutely not. You cannot bullshit out of this one."
"It's not bullshit," you whine as you pretend to look in the fridge for something to drink. Settle on a beer left by one of Taehyung's friends at a party held last semester. It wasn't quite a Jackson Wang level party, but nothing ever is. "He's just trying to drum up numbers for his stupid party tonight."
Taehyung is many things, but stupid he is not. Though he's blonde (thanks to a bottle of bleach and a few too many jack and cokes), he bends all the stereotypes. His tuition is covered by a scholarship for academic excellence.
"Don't give me that bull."
"It's not bull!"
"So you're telling me, out of everyone at our college, the Jackson Wang is texting you to make up numbers for his party?"
"Yes!" you exclaim, partially a little offended at it being such an unfathomable idea. "And he said you can come too, so maybe you're the one he's really after!"
His expression is flat. You are paper thin.
He's known you long enough to know when you're giving him half-truths.
He also knows you spent the summer alone in this house, and that there's a new toothbrush in the bathroom next to yours.
"You're hooking up with him, aren't you?"
"No!"
Out of everyone to be accused of sleeping with, Jackson Wang is, like, the worst of the worst. He's handsome, sure, but he's also slept with pretty much every girl on campus. Is a teenage boy in a grown adult's body. You'd rather not fornicate with a guy who still finds 'your mum' jokes funny.
Taehyung gasps at your immediate denial. "You are!"
"I'm not!"
"All that talk about saving it for someone special, and you mean to tell me you went and lost it to Jackson fuckin' Wang?!"
Everything about this conversation is making you want to punch yourself in the face. The topic of sex, and just why you've never gotten around to it, has dominated many conversations around this dining table. If you have to discuss it again, you might move out.
"Oh my God," you whine, throwing your head back. "We are not having this conversation."
"Yes, we are."
"No, we're not, because I didn't lose my virginity to Jackson Wang!" You stress. The more you think about it, the more offended you are.
"To Jackson Wang," Taehyung echoes, as he begins to join invisible dots. "But you did lose it to someone."
"No," you insist, but Taehyung refuses to buy it. Knows you too damn well.
He always thought he'd know when you lost it. That it'd be a boy you'd been dating. Committed to. Someone good. Someone worthy. Not someone you keep in the shadows.
"There's something you're not telling me," he frowns. "What the fuck happened this summer?"
With a sigh so deep it's a miracle you're still breathing, you relent. Never signed one of those NDA's you're convinced Jungkook must hand out like candy, as if he's some sort of celebrity and not just some college reprobate.
"Jungkook," you feebly admit. Take a sip on your beer. Don't look at Taheyung, 'cause you're afraid to see his reaction. "Wasn't Jackson. Was Jungkook."
You tell Taehyung everything. How Jungkook never knew you were a virgin. How he still doesn't. How you blame yourself for your hurt, but him for not getting you any band aids to help deal with it; for not kissing you better when he was the one to cause you such hurt in the first place.
As you recite you memories, you play a game against yourself: take a sip every time you want to cry.
By the time you've told Taehyung the nitty-gritty truth, the bottle of wine that had been in the fridge is finished, as well as your beer.
"I can't believe this," Taehyung says for what feels like the billionth time.
There's a certain shame that comes with Taehyung's confusion.
Embarrassment, like the way Jungkook would cringe at himself whenever he stumbled on his words, or the way you'd covered your reddening cheeks with your hands when he teased you for looking at him in the way you did.
Remorse of time wasted before him, and time wasted with him.
Regret of the things you did and the things he didn't.
It's all very confusing. Exhausting. If you were to really think about it, you'd spend a week in bed with a box of tissues. Would ask Taehyung why he didn't warn you that a heart could feel this horrid.
But he did, and you damn well know it.
Shrugging, you reach for the bottle and split the final few glugs between your glasses.
"We were just bored," you play it off. "Had nothing better to do. No one better to do."
But Taehyung shakes his head. "You don't have to do that, yanno. Pretend like it didn't matter. It's okay that it did. Even if he is a prick, and even if he's no better than the rest of them. It's okay that it hurts."
You're silent when he says this.
Despite your teasing, you never really thought Jungkook was much of a player.
But his friends are back now, and you've been relegated to the sidelines. Doesn't matter if he spent weeks—months—playing in no field but yours. Greener pastures have presumably sprouted. Your turf is wrecked from his carelessness, and he's left you to heal yourself while he goes and wrecks another.
Whoever he was pretending to be in the summer isn't who he is now that his friends are back—but when they're laughing and joking in the basement of the Conservatory that evening, Jungkook knows which version of himself he prefers.
"You need to get laid," Jimin tells Jungkook with a laugh. "Never seen a man look so bloody miserable at a party."
Of all the things Jungkook needs, getting laid is not one of them. In fact, he thinks it would be a very sensible idea if he never got laid again. Sex is messy. People get all emotional over it.
Or more so, he gets all emotional over it.
Had never been the type to, before. Always thought it was something that just happened to other people. Not to him.
He pushes the thoughts aside. Feels a little sick. Shrugs off Jimin's remark.
"If I wanted to get laid, I would get laid."
"So why don't you? Will do us all a favour. Claudia's been—"
"I couldn't give a fuck," Jungkook interrupts Jimin. "I'm not interested."
He never has been. Wants nothing to do with this university, and the men that run it, and so would never date one of their daughters.
They're all corrupt. Every last one of them. All cheat on their wives. All throw their families under the bus for their own selfish exploits. His own father's affair has proven this to him.
Jungkook pities his friends. Just because their parents haven't fucked up yet, doesn't mean they won't.
"Oi, Loverboy," Jackson calls from across the room, breaking the tension only to replace it with a headache for Jungkook. "Where's your little girlfriend? I told her to come."
"Who?" Jimin chirps.
Jungkook grates his jaw. Is deadly serious when he says, "Leave it, Jackson."
"Trouble in paradise for our lovebirds, huh?"
"I said leave it."
"Who the fuck is he talking about?" Jimin continues to ask, incredibly curious about this turn of events. Leave town for a couple of months, he thinks, and everything changes.
"No one."
"That one from the diner," Jackson just continues fuckin' talking. Jungkook wants to scream. "The one with a stick up her ass—"
"Jackson, cut it out," Jungkook snaps. "She's no one. Just fuckin' leave it."
"You ashamed, huh, Loverboy?" Jackson berates him a little bit. He isn't trying to be a dick, but he thinks Jungkook is acting like a tool. Jackson is no saint, but at least he doesn't ever pretend to be something he's not. "Poor girl. Wear her like your favourite pair of shoes all summer and then throw her to the trash when your friends come back? I thought better of you. So did she, probably. Shame."
Of all the people Jungkook ever expected to receive lessons in morality from, Jackson Wang was not the one. He parades himself around the Conservatory like Hugh Hefner reincarnated, his class attributed to money and not behaviours.
"The fuck have you been doing this summer, Kook?" Jimin laughs, utterly dumbfounded by his reactions.
They've all had their fair share of less than conventional lovers. If Jungkook has been fucking around with a girl from the Diner, then so what? Who cares?
"Nothing," Jungkook snaps.
It's not that he's ashamed.
It's that you're separate.
When he's with you, all of this—the bullshit of college life and calamity of his family falling apart—dissolves into nothingness. He doesn't have to think. Finds himself at ease.
If you were to ever become a part of his life—his real one, not the one he got so used to living in with you over the summer—then it'd all change.
He doesn't want that.
He wants you to be a safe haven.
A refuge point can't be in the midst of a fire, though. He has to keep you away. At arms length.
But god damn, he wishes you would come and put out his fire. He's struggling. Finds existing without you so fucking hard. Doesn't know at which point he became so dependent, but knows his oxygen is running low.
He's suffocating. Isn't sure how much longer he can keep this up.
"Yeah, sure seems like nothing," Jimin smirks with a shake of his head as Jungkook storms off to get some much needed air. "Oi, Jackson, what was that all about?"
With a shrug, and yet another girl on his arm, Jackson grins. Puts on a pathetic little voice to mimic Jungkook's tantrum. "Fink baby boy has a wittle cwush."
"Girl from the diner?" Jimin implores, still smirking at Jackson's dumb humour. "Which one?"
"You really have to ask?"
For all of his mystery, Jungkook has never been a man of subtleties. His eyes give him away.
They always have done.
When he was looking at the menu board earlier that day? It was obvious.
Before college broke up for summer, and how Jungkook would always cast his eyes down to his hands whenever you, specifically, came to take their order? It was obvious.
How Jungkook would always make sure he was on the side of the booth that gave him ample opportunity to steal glances of you? It was so fucking obvious.
Sometimes he'd laugh at the slightly sarcastic remarks you gave Claudia whenever she would ask irritating questions about the menu.
When they were deciding where to eat, Jungkook would suggest the Montgomery's Diner, always.
So, no, Jimin doesn't really have to ask.
"Stupid prick," he sighs, sipping on his beer. Loves Jungkook to absolute death, but will never understand him. Figures that maybe you do. Worries that Jungkook is about to wreck it all. He calls after Jackson, "She here tonight?"
"Invited her," he calls back. "But she's got an attitude problem to rival his. Fuck knows if she's around. You'll feel her ice before you see her."
Which is funny, because the lingering summer heat sticks to your skin as you nervously meander up a driveway you know all too well.
The Conservatory is decidedly not a conservatory.
It's a complex. A maze of buildings, and greenhouses, and fuck knows what else. You've no interest in gardening, but if excelling at it meant living somewhere like this, maybe you'd consider taking it up as a hobby.
The buildings are mostly redbrick, with large windows, and even larger doors. It's the kind of place you'd imagine a Duke of some far away land prancing about in. Playing croquet, or secretly courting a lowly village girl that his parents will never approve of.
The irony isn't lost on you.
"Wait, how do I look?" Taehyung asks for what feels like the hundredth time. "Not too dressy?"
"You're wearing a waistcoat," you reply, face twisted in affectionate condemnation. He looks great, but he also does look far too dressy. It's his 'look', though, and one that'll get him attention, both good and bad.
If Kim Taehyung walked around with the arrogance his handsome face warranted him with, he'd be the heartthrob of the campus. You think even Claudia would want a slice of him—and given his distaste for the elite yet pining desire to be on their level, it'd be quite the complex pairing.
All of the other men here are in t-shirts, but Taehyung has never been like other men. It's part of the reason you like him so much.
One thing, however, you don't like about Taehyung is his domineering need to 'fix' things. It comes from a place of love, and he only ever does it because he cares, but it's not always in your best interest.
When he told you to go and get changed out of your work uniform, you thought he was planning on taking you to a bar. That you'd be drowning your sorrows over wine you can't afford.
You would never agree to go to the Conservatory. Not now.
Which is why he didn't tell you of his plan.
Instead, he ordered a cab and didn't give you the chance to protest. You were already halfway there by the time you realised.
"Why don't we just go home?" You whine, tugging on his arm as you stand by the gate that leads through the gardens—the same ones you used to traipse around in with Jungkook. "We don't need to be here."
"Uh-uh," he shakes his head, firmly standing his ground. "I've avoided this place for two years, and the second my back is turned it becomes your new home. The least you could do is invite me round for dinner."
"It's not my new home—"
"MONTGOMERY!"
The voice of Jackson Wang yelling across the front lawn makes you want to shrivel up and die. Sink down into the ground. You'd make great compost for the botanists.
"Y'know, you and Loverboy really need to stop lying so much," he says with an incredibly intoxicated grin as he lumbers towards you. You'll never admit it, but part of you is pleased to see him. "First you saying you weren't coming, then him telling everyone nothing happened between you. Both as bad as one another."
Nothing happened between you.
It doesn't surprise you, but it does sting. And it also confuses you. Why on earth would you be a topic of conversation? The people here know you as Montgomery. The girl from the diner. You're nothing but a background character to them.
"What did he say?" You ask, disregarding everything else, not even bothering to introduce Taehyung. He's finding all of this incredibly bewildering.
"Oh, Jimin was grilling him," Jackson waves his hands around, disregarding it. "Kept saying you were no one. Refused to admit that he'd practically tied his laces with yours for the whole summer. Don't you worry, though, Monte Carlo. I had your back. Set the record straight."
Jackson Wang having your back isn't something you ever expected to happen.
Jeon Jungkook's absolute denial of your clandestine affaire de cœur is, disappointingly, something you expected.
It doesn't mean that it comes without hurt. If anything, it's far more visceral, for you only have yourself to blame. These wounds are self-inflicted, even if they're carved with a knife Jungkook crafted out of silly affirmations he never should have made.
"Where is he?" You ask, cold in your tone.
Jackson shrugs. "Try the basement. S'where I last saw him."
As Jackson saunters off to find another poor partygoer to mildly offend, you're left with a bad taste in your mouth. You've been irritated since you saw Jungkook earlier that day.
How he can just show up at the diner and act like he doesn't even know you, let alone knows what it's like to wake up next to you, is beyond insulting.
"C'mon," Taehyung urges you along. "I need a drink, and you could use three."
Conversely, you think you need an entire bottle.
A bottle of what, you don't care. Just something strong. Anything other than the shitty, overpriced whisky Jungkook always insisted on drinking.
"Fine. But we're not going to the basement."
It's perplexing to walk the halls of the Conservatory without Jungkook; to pass by strangers who have no idea who you are, but who know and admire him as if he's some sort of Hollywood celebrity.
They don't know him like you do. Don't know what it feels like to have his hand around their throat, or his fingers gently intertwined with theirs. They've never heard him laugh like you have.
And yet when you're a few drinks deep, and on the verge of calling a cab to go home, you hear that laugh again and wonder how he can bear to be happy right now.
Glancing up, his face is unreadable. The lights are dim, and the shadows obscure the painful furrowing of his brows. He looks just the same as he did back in the diner earlier that day. Perplexed. In pain. Somehow perfectly fine, too.
The group he's in is small. Some of them you know, some of them you don't.
Claudia sits across from him on the lap of some other guy, yet she doesn't take her eyes off Jungkook. She laughs a little harder at his jokes. Directs questions to him. Flirts with other people in front of him to no avail.
Not even now, after summer when her skin is sunkissed and her radiance is rejuvenated, can she keep his attention.
In fact, none of them can once he spots you from across the room. The big lights are off, fairy lights strung up, and a sunset lamp pours a clementine hue over you.
Summer becomes you, he thinks—adores—from afar.
The year is a body, and you're eternally condemned to its heart. That's where he'll keep you. Where you belong.
Had it been spring—the brain of the year—when he'd been hauled up in that diner, he never would have let things get as far as they did.
Had it been winter—the cunt of the year, for lack of a better term—he would have let it get that far, and he wouldn't have felt bad about it, either.
But Autumn is drawing close. The gut. The time to trust his intuition, and he damn well knows it.
A hand wraps itself around your wrist, dragging you away from his car crash eyes. Jungkook slips into the dull shadows of the room, right where he belongs. Was foolish of you to ever think otherwise.
"Do you mind?" you snap, but let yourself be dragged away regardless. Part of you hopes it'll make Jungkook do something. You're not sure what. Just something.
The man who is leading you astray is familiar. Recognisable. Park Jimin.
Though he's not aggressive, he definitely isn't gentle as he leads you out to the gardens. Lets go of your wrist by an overgrown shrub just beyond the benches that are made for drunken DMC's. He isn't after one of them. Wants the facts.
"Cut the bullshit," he says.
"No hello?" You chirp. "Nice to see you? Or better yet, an introduction?"
"You know who I am," Jimin tells you, expression flat. You hate that the arrogant fucker is right. "But I know fuck all about you, and apparently you're the reason Jungkook is walking around like death warmed up. So cut the bull. What happened?"
Frankly it's none of Jimin's business. Even if he's done you wrong, Jungkook trusted you. You're not gonna throw that back in his face and air his dirty laundry—especially not considering that Jimin is Jungkook's friend. If Jungkook wanted him to know, he'd have told him.
"Nothing," you tell him. "Barely even know him."
Jimin sighs. Jackson was right. There's a reason why you and Jungkook got along so well. Are both insufferable.
Glancing behind you, Jimin raises his brows.
You turn to face his line of vision, and fail to hide your surprise when you see Jungkook by the back door. Like a deer in headlights, he's frozen in place, his darling bambi eyes so startled he almost looks scared.
"So if you barely know him," Jimin continues as you and Jungkook stare one another out. "Why the fuck is he looking at you like he's seen a ghost?"
It takes a second or so, but you manage to pull your gaze away. Turn back to face Jimin. Shrug. Play dumb.
"Mistaken identity."
"Oh, I get it," Jimin smirks, knowing you aren't gonna give him an easy way out. Needs to bamboozle answers out of you. "You both went to the same bullshitting classes over summer? Is that it?"
You're surprised to find yourself smiling. Surprised that you find humour in Jimin's words. Surprised that you aren't rolling your eyes.
He's always been the Untouchable that has annoyed you the most. Is too loud. Laughs at the most obnoxious things.
"Top of the class," you reply because it somehow feels okay to joke with him. Perhaps spending so much time with Jungkook has lowered you Park Jimin-related intolerance. Not cured it, by any means, but definitely made it easier to manage.
"Academic rivals," Jimin supposes, realising that maybe there's a little more to you than he's ever given you credit for. "That's pretty hot."
"He seemed to think so," you lament, knowing that you're revealing a far more truthful rendition of your time spent with Jungkook. Or at least, admitting that time was spent together.
With a sigh, you walk a little further into the garden. Cross your arms. Look back over your shoulder to the door, only to find Jungkook is gone. It shouldn't upset you like it does, but you find your lips pressing together in a small pout.
"Look," Jimin says, exhaling a breath so deep you're sure his lungs must be empty. He comes to stand beside you, looking across the vast expanse of the gardens. "I'm not asking for your life story. If you don't give a shit about Kook, then that's fine, I'll leave you alone. But he's my best friend, and I've never seen him like this."
Glancing at Jimin, there's a taut discomfort on your face. Guilt, almost—but you've not done anything wrong. It's on him. He's the one who chose for things to be this way.
"I give a shit," you quietly admit as you look back out towards the garden, then sigh out a pitiful laugh. "You know him. You know what he's like. Of course I give a shit."
Quite honestly you think it's impossible to not fall for Jungkook. He's everything you're hardwired to appreciate: hardworking, charming, incredibly funny. You lost count of how many nights dissolved into laughter with him. Had never known your cheeks to hurt so much.
He was gentle, too. Stroked his thumbs against your cheeks just as often as he made them ache.
It's your heart that's aching now, and he's not around to soothe your woes.
Back inside, Jungkook feels so viscerally unwell that he thinks he might be sick. Or maybe he's actually dying. One of the two.
This is everything he didn't want. You were supposed to be separate. Supposed to be a sanctuary away from this all.
You're in the thick of it, now. Jimin is grilling you, and Jungkook doesn't know what to do. It's too much. All of it. The party, the people, the fact that you look at him with ice in your eyes when he knows damn well they used to harbour the warmest of fires.
Beelining for the basement, he kind of hopes the ground will swallow him up. Stop him from making the bad decisions he seems to find so god damn irresistible.
As he yanks open the small fridge at the back of the basement, Jungkook doesn't care what he drinks. Just needs something to help soothe his fragile mine; to make him feel better, 'cause lord knows you won't.
Reaching for a beer, he doesn't ask around to see if it belongs to anyone. Finders keepers. He's an Untouchable. This place is basically his by birthright. No one is gonna argue against him.
But Kim Taehyung isn't just anyone.
"So, when you apologise for being a gargantuan pillock, are you planning on also trying to win her over? Or will you just clean your conscience and wipe yourself clean of her, too?"
Jungkook's jaw tenses as his teeth grit together. "Don't know what you're on about."
"Had a girl in tears at my dinner table earlier tonight," Taehyung exaggerates. Just wants Jungkook to feel as awful as he knows you do. "Your friends might not give a shit about your well-being, but I give a shit about mine."
And for some reason, this irks Jungkook. He gives a shit about you. Cares so much he's been torturing himself by staying away. Thinks it's better for you both.
If it truly was, neither of you would be feeling so gut-wrenchingly awful.
He knows you're angry. You've made that perfectly clear.
But he also knows you do cry when you're frustrated. Was a lesson learned when you were stressed over the diner roof leaking one night during the monsoons when no one else was in to help you fix it.
It was the first night he offered you a lift home. Had taken pity on you. Had also liaised with the college maintenance guy to check it out the next day, even if the diner wasn't technically part of campus.
Because Jungkook does give a shit about your well-being, and he refutes the claim that he doesn't.
"So what? You here to tell me to stay away?" Jungkook scoffs as he prizes off the cap of the bottle. Swigs down a sip. Then another, 'cause he's not wankered enough for this.
"I'm here to tell you that you're an asshole," Taehyung asserts. "She didn't deserve to be used by you for the summer and then tossed to the trash just because semesters starting up again."
The roll of Jungkook's eyes is so weighted that it almost feels as if they'll get lodged in the back of his skull. The last time they'd rolled that deep was in bed with you. Back then it was because his body was so divinely out of sync that his muscles couldn't keep up with his actions. This time, pleasure is the furthest thing away from how he's feeling.
"You want me nowhere near her, but the fact I'm staying away makes me an asshole?" Jungkook petulantly laughs. "Can't ever fuckin' win, can I?"
"This isn't about winning or losing," Taehyung argues back. "She trusted you."
Jungkook doesn't understand what that has to do with anything. He's not betrayed your trust. Has kept all your secrets. Tried his best to keep you secret, too.
"What was she to you, huh? Some project? A virginity to get under your belt? Something to pass the time—"
"I don't know who you think I am," Jungkook snaps, fed up being accused of something he's not. "But not once did I ever treat her badly, okay? I—" He cuts himself off. Doesn't know how to articulate himself. "We— Look, you just don't get it. You don't know me. I was nothing but fuckin' nice. Okay? And she was nice. And it was nice. And we..." He trails off. Realises what Taehyung said. "The fuck do you mean, 'virginity to get under your belt'?"
It's about now that Taehyung realises he's said too much.
But every cloud has a silver lining.
"Talk to her," Taehyung shrugs as he begins to walk away. "Not me."
He leaves a scowling Jungkook by the fridge. Heads to the stairs, and once he reaches the top, is yanked away by a small but mighty force.
"You," Jimin asserts. "With me. Now."
The sound of three knocks on the bathroom door serve as a signal: let me in.
A panicked text from Taehyung had practically begged you to go to the basement bathroom and wait for him there. Said there was drama that he needed to talk with you about.
And you believed him, 'cause you're a few too many drinks deep and honestly could do with the respite.
Perched up on the countertop by the sink, you reach over and unhook the latch, giving Taehyung the all clear to come on in. Your legs languidly swing and your shoulders are slumped, this party well and truly over for you.
The only reason you're still here is because you know Taehyung's secretly been revelling in his first Conservatory party. You fear he'll want to come every weekend, now.
"You better not have your cock out," a playful voice you know all too well jokes, as the door pushes open. Eyes closed as he enters, he shuts the door behind him. Asks, "Am I safe to open my eyes?"
You're gonna kill Taehyung.
In the most loving but brutal way, you will absolutelymurder him for setting you up like this.
"Safe," you grimace.
Jungkook doesn't open his eyes. In fact, he presses them even tighter together. Frowns. "Jimin isn't in here, is he?"
"We've been bamboozled," you sigh, and as much as he doesn't want to, Jungkook smiles at your choice of words. Tips his head down, and open his eyes. Is a little too scared to look your way, for fear of being greeted with wrath.
"Their days are numbered," Jungkook assures you, quickly glancing across to try and work out how you're feeling.
"My sentiments exactly."
Jungkook goes to speak, but you both notice a grating metallic noise by the door. Immediately, Jungkook presses his hand down on the door handle, but there's absolutely no give. It won't budge
"Jimin," he calls, voice strong and domineering through the wooden panels. Hastily painted white, they're chipped and tarnished; covered in numbers and Instagram handles, rumours and declarations of love. It's not your first time locked in this bathroom with Jungkook, but the last was of your own choice. Had been you turning the lock with a smile and glint in your eyes that had promised him trouble. "Open it up."
"No can do," Jimins smugly sings from beyond the door. "Sort your shit out."
Hopping off the counter, you nudge in front of Jungkook to pound against the door with an open fist. Though he steps back, it's still the closest you've been with him since he left your bedroom a couple weeks ago. Part of you laments the fact he moved away from you. Part of him does, too.
"Tae," you try calling instead, hand banging on the door, but you're met with the exact same response.
"Figure it out," he calls back, but also adds, "And if he's still an insufferable asshole in five minutes time, I'll come let you out."
Despite everything, you laugh at this. Not so much because of Taehyung's words, but because Jungkook's face screws up like an old newspaper.
"What is it with him and calling me an asshole?" Jungkook mutters under his breath with a shake of his head.
The bathroom is small—just a toilet and sink built into a cabinet. There's a mirror covering the back wall over it, and another cabinet above it that you assume is filled with empty bottles and misplaced lipglosses. There's barely even enough room to breathe, although there is enough room to make Jeon Jungkook come undone in the least dignified of ways. You should know.
You wish you didn't.
"He calls you one because you are one," you assure him.
"Excuse me?"
"What?" You scoff, hopping back up on the counter, your eyes on his 'cause you want to watch the way he gets nasty. Wanna remind yourself of how horrible he can be. Replace the memories of him in this bathroom, 'cause in all reality, they're actually really lovely. Nice, even. Warm. Everything you're trying to convince yourself he's not. "Gone deaf as well as turned into a massive prick?"
"Jesus Christ," he says, rolling his eyes, turning back to face the door. Shakes at the handle. "Give it a rest."
"Why?" You ask as if butter wouldn't melt on your tongue. "Would it make life easier for you if I just wasn't around?"
Jungkook knows what you're doing. Has bickered with you enough times to understand your tricks. This is how you start; put words in his mouth that he can't defend against.
And so he doesn't try.
"Yep," he declares, turning to face you. "Way easier. Can you tell your friend I'm an asshole, still? Get us out of this place?"
You recline in defiance. Perched up on the counter next to the basin, your back is against a mirror. Legs crossed, you're in the same white summer dress you wore to your first party at the Conservatory.
Nearly everyone had been away for the summer.
You had spent the evening tucked up together on an armchair meant for one, him in the seat, you perched on the armrest, feet in his lap.
"People will talk, y'know," you'd assured him, elbows on your knees, chin in your palms.
"So let them talk," he'd smirked. "What's there to say? We're just sitting?"
It was strange for him to be seen with you. Even Jackson has been confused, but let it slide 'cause another partygoer is another partygoer. He cared for numbers, not names.
"Dunno," you had teased. "Might start talking about the way you look at me."
"Yeah?" He'd husked as his long fingers wrapped around your wrist. Gently pulled you closer.
"Yeah," you'd whispered, the sound of the music keeping your conversation obscure. "How long has it been that you've been looking at me for? A minute, already? Only one more until you fall in love, according to science."
"You tryna make me fall in love with you, Montgomery?"
"No," you'd innocently chirped, then pulled back. "Why? Were you?"
He'd shrugged. Sipped on his beer. "Guess we'll never know."
Looking at him now, you find it hard to believe he's the same person as he was back then.
"Why would I do that?" You feign naivety. "You're not an asshole?"
He doesn't reply. Knows you're going somewhere with this. Leans his back against the wall opposite you and folds his arms as if to say, go on.
"Assholes fuck people over," you state. "You'd never do that. And you'd definitely never spend your summer in some poor girls sheets and then pretend like she doesn't exist in front of your friends—"
"There is it," he confirms. Knew it was coming. Didn't expect you to actually try and speak about things like adults. So fuckin' childish.
"Oh?" You chirp. "So you're well aware of the fact you're an asshole? Good. Glad we have that one sorted out."
"Yep," he confirms, mouth drawing to a thin line.
The fact he isn't engaging in the fight infuriates you. Just proves he doesn't care. That he fucked you over for sport.
"I'm an asshole," he says, voice full of snark. "You know it, I know it. There's no reason why you should want to be around me. No reason why you should waste your time."
"It's so funny," you gasp in fake surprise. "I was thinking the exact same thing! Isn't it so great that you came to this conclusion after you already wasted months of my life?"
He's silent, now. Cowardly.
"Y'know I always knew you were an obnoxious prick," you say, voice now soberly quiet. "But I didn't think you were this cruel, Kook."
"You know that's not—"
"What?" You interrupt, voice growing louder with each question. "Not true? You woke up in my bed one morning, and then never spoke to me again. Who does that? What the fuck is wrong with you?"
"I don't know!" He shouts, and it surprises you both.
Raking his hand through his hair as he turns away from you, Jungkook wishes he had an answer. Wishes he could explain himself in a way that made sense to you both. Instead, he harshly swallows down his anger. Turns to face you again. Looks like he might cry.
Feels like it, too.
"Why didn't you tell me, huh?" He quietly asks.
"Tell you wha—"
"That you were a virgin."
Your previous thoughts about murdering Taehyung return. Of all the things he could have divulged to Jungkook, and that's what he chose?!
Men, you internally scoff. All fuckin' idiots.
"Hardly relevant, is it?"
"Of course it is," he snaps, turning back to face you. "If I'd have known—"
"You'd have what? Ghosted me sooner? Made it into a fun little competition?"
"I didn't ghost you."
"Gaslighting, too, now are we?" You scoff. "Hold on, let me go and get my bingo card. Things Jungkook does that are absolutely fucking infuriating. Wanna cross it off the list. It's right next to how fast you drive your car, and how much I hate your stupid fucking alarm tone."
"Well good job you never have to hear it again, isn't it?"
"Why not? 'Cause you are ghosting me?"
"No, because this is fuckin' stupid," he says, yanking on the door handle, on the off chance it will finally budge. It doesn't. "You think I'm the devil reincarnated. You don't want me, so why bother with this? This is done. Us. Whatever the fuck it was. You never trusted me in the first place. Would have told me if you did. So just call your friend, tell him I'm an asshole. We're done."
"Oh, well you're two weeks too late for this conversation, don't you think?" you argue back with a cold laugh. "But has it ever occurred to you that my life doesn't revolve around you? That you aren't the reason I'm here? Jackson invited me."
"Ah, so that's what it is?" Jungkook sarcastically exclaims, your insatiable need to fight finally sinking into his skin. "You were just using me, huh? Getting those V-plates off, so you could be ready for him? Is that why you didn't tell me? Huh?"
The mere thought of hooking up with the college's very own Hugh Hefner makes you wanna gag—but if it'll piss off Jungkook, maybe you'll consider it.
"Why would you care if I let him fuck me?" You ask with such pointed anger Jungkook can't help but feel like you're driving knives into his chest. "Do that thing you like with my tongue? You think he'd like my pussy, huh? Maybe I'd let him fuck me raw."
You never let Jungkook go unprotected. Insisted on it each and every time, and he complied even if he was a little pouty about it after you'd been fucking for a while. The trust was there. You were on the pill. He knew he was clean and had told you as such, but it made no difference.
To even suggest you'd let Jackson fuck you raw is laughable.
With a smirk on his lips, Jungkook edges towards you.
Put his hands on your crossed knees. Waits for you to jerk him away—but you don't. Instead, you watch on with salacious confusion. Say nothing. Not even when he uncrosses them, nor when he spreads them apart.
With a hand either side of your head against the mirror, Jungkook stands between your legs.
Looks down at you.
Is so close you can smell his aftershave.
A month ago, in a position like this, you'd have kissed him.
"Hm?" You cock your head. Repeat your question. "You think he'd like my pussy? How long do you think he'd take to cum? Longer than you, I hope."
Jaw tense, Jungkook swallows down the way he wants to curse you out. Closes his eyes. Lets his head dip further, his forehead now resting against the top of your head.
The contact is minimal, but God, you've missed it. Trapped in position by him, you'd forgotten how lovely it was to lose yourself to Jungkook.
"You're not being fair," he whispers. Whines, even.
"Fair?" You laugh, but it's gentle. Matches his tone. "You can hardly take the high ground on fairness, Jungkook."
He nods. Takes a second, and then pathetically begs: "Don't fuck him. Please."
"Why shouldn't I?"
"You know why," he says. Stands straighter, now. Rakes a hand through his hair. Looks down on you with such pained desperation you almost feel bad. He tries to speak, but struggles with his words again. Takes him a few attempts to get anything out. "I didn't like you because I was fucking you. I fucked you because I liked you. You know that. You know it wasn't...Fuck. You know what it was."
The past tense he speaks in cuts you up inside.
Jungkook shrugs in defeat when he's met with silence. Purses his lips. Eyes on yours, they're glassy. Watery, almost.
Yours are just as bad, because what the fuck are you supposed to say to that? He's the one that cut you out. He did this.
"What did I do?" You ask, voice meagre and pathetic. Your vulnerability is mortifying, and yet you just can't help yourself as a tear streaks down your cheek. "What the fuck did I do that was so wrong, Kook?"
The heat of his hand scalds your skin as his thumb wipes away your tears. After his cold shoulder for the past two weeks, your body doesn't know how to respond. Should you be angry? Hurt? Comforted?
All you know is that you're more confused now than you ever were when you first started hooking up with him.
"Nothing," he quietly promises. Holds your cheeks in his hands. Rests his nose beside yours. Is far too close for a man who's been trying to stay away from you. Is beginning to realise that maybe his self-preservation was thinly veiled self-sabotage instead. "I thought I was doing the right thing, but it's been so fuckin' miserable, and then I didn't know how to fix things, and then it was all such a mess and—"
The words Jungkook is yet to speak are lost in the soft press of your lips against his.
Brows furrowed, Jungkook's grip on your face tightens. Keeps you close, 'cause he feels the pressure of your lips waning but doesn't want you to pull away.
And so you don't. Instead you apply more pressure. Harder. Deeper.
It's not like kissing Jungkook is a new experience. You've done it upwards of a thousand times, now. You know his lips and his tongue, and how it likes to flick against yours; his piercings, and the frequency of his moans that vibrate into your mouth.
Kissing Jungkook is just as easy as it is hard. Easy, in the way he takes not a single considered thought. Hard, in how it becomes your only tangible thought for minutes, hours, days afterwards.
An eternity and a millisecond is lost in the kiss, just like the summer that lasted an age and yet was gone with the wind.
When your lips finally part, there's silence. Forehead resting on yours, Jungkook shakes his head ever so gently. Doesn't know how to articulate his thoughts. How to say sorry, or how to fix his mess.
While his logic was flawed, and his execution careless, his intentions had been good. As much as he had a life to go back to, and friends that wouldn't get it, so did you.
He knows they hate him—isn't ignorant to the roll of Maria's eyes every time they walk into Montgomery's, and has experienced Taehyung's disdain first-hand this evening.
He'd spent his summer getting out of the house to avoid the fall-out of his father's infidelity. Knows how much his family is suffering all because of a man who just couldn't control himself. Was trying to be better. Trying not to wreck both of your lives.
As he stands in the dingy bathroom of a party house, the lingering burn of your lips on his still smouldering, he knows that he wrecked you both regardless.
And so it's up to him to put you back together again.
"I'm sorry," you say as you break the kiss, mortified at how stupid of an impulse it had been. You don't that. Not anymore. A month ago, sure, kissing Jungkook in a dingy bathroom at a party house would have been exciting. Now, it just feels embarrassing. "I shouldn't have—"
His lips are on yours again, stealing your words from you. He doesn't want to hear you apologise. Knows that you don't need to. Also knows that he does need to.
"Don't," he quickly says between kisses. "Please, don't say sorry."
"But I—"
"Shut up," he smiles against your lips, shaking his head ever so slightly. He kisses you again, and this time it's soft. Pretty. Poetic, almost in how it makes you feel. And then he speaks, and you're reminded of just how easy it is to adore him, even when you know you shouldn't. "You know how much I've missed this? God, I've missed you so much. Please don't say sorry. I'm sorry. It's on me. I made a mistake, alright? I fucked up."
He pulls back. Has your cheeks in his hands as he makes sure your eyes are on his. They're dark, now, in the dim light of the bathroom you're in, but they've never been warmer.
"I mean it. I'm so fucking sorry," he whispers. Brows furrowed, lips pouty, he's got the kind of face you're hardwired to trust. To adore. Or maybe, it's just him, in general, that you're inclined to feel this way about. "Okay?"
His large hard hands are still holding your cheeks, as yours wrap around his wrists. With a shake of your head, you shrug. Pout, too.
An apology is appreciated, but it's just words. It's his actions that have been upsetting you. Not his words (or lack thereof).
"We're gonna leave this bathroom and you're gonna pretend like I don't exist again," you tell him.
The frown on his face deepens. "That's not true. And that's not what I was trying to do in the first place, either. I just thought—"
"What? That it was a good idea to kiss me on my doorstep and promise you'd pick me up from work, only to never show? To ignore my texts? To—"
"No," he quietly admits, dropping his head between his shoulders. "I made the wrong calls—but I can make it up to you. I want to make it up to you." He rests his forehead against yours. Quietly begs, "Please."
Slowly, Jungkook nudges his nose up against yours. Waits for permission.
Beyond the door, loud music thuds through the room. It obscures the conversation you've been having, keeping you just as secret as you always have been.
It's not like you told any of your friends, either, and when it came to telling Taehyung, you weren't exactly forthcoming. Perhaps you would have been the one to pretend like he didn't exist, had he not done it first.
"I want you," he husks against your lips.
"You wanna fuck me," you correct him, lips tantalisingly brushing his with every word.
"True," he admits. "But I also wanna send you dumb memes again, and go for drives after work, and wake up in your bed. I wanna go for breakfast, and I still need to cook you my world-famous makguksu. I want to have not been a dick for the past two weeks, but I can't change that. I just wanna be what I once was to you again."
"And what was that?" You encourage.
There was never any label. Realistically, there's no right answer.
Or at least there isn't, until Jungkook just simply says, "Yours."
And what else can you do when confronted by such a pathetic, yearnful admittance from him, except to give into how you're feeling, too?
Frantic in the way your hands are on his body—his arms, his waist, around his throat—there's a neediness to you. One he's missed. One he reciprocates, as his large palms stroke up your spread thighs, then get your legs wrapped around his hips.
The movements of your bodies are so well nurtured by now that you know what comes next; how the bulge in his trousers will press against your covered pussy, and how you'll whine at the contact no matter how minimal.
"Fuck," you whine as his hands slip under the skirt of your dress. It's an old routine at this point. He knows exactly where to go, what to do. His fingers press against the wet fabric of your underwear, just gently enough to make you moan a little harder into his mouth.
"Oh?" He smirks when he realises just how needy you are, his fingers stroking against your slick panties. "Missed me, too?"
"You're an asshole," you tell him with a smile. As his fingers get firmer, you can't help but whine. "You know I have."
He pulls back to look down at your body. Pushes the fabric of your dress out of the way. Curses when he realises the underwear you're wearing. Is his favourite pair. Red and lacy, there's a suspender belt to match it. While you're not wearing it right now, he's got pictures of you in it that belong in a fuckin' museum.
"Did you wanna fuck me tonight, huh?" He mumbles into your lips.
"Not everything is about you," you say with a smile, wrapping your arms around his neck.
Except it is. They're your favourite pair too, simply for how insanely he reacted to seeing you in them. Sure you're not in the full set up, but it was enough to have you feeling ever so confident as you left the house with Taehyung.
As his lips press against yours, his finger hooks beneath your underwear. Tugs them to the side. Gets you exposed for him.
"No?" He husks, as his fingers begin to sink between your soaked folds. "So this isn't about me, huh?"
You shake your head. Lie. "Never been less turned on."
He plays into your little theatrics. Has always enjoyed them.
"So you don't want me to do this?" He asks as his middle finger sinks into your entrance.
"Can't even feel it," you pretend, as if his thick knuckles aren't stroking against you in just the right way.
"No?" He grits. Sinks a second finger inside you. Gets you whining again, nails gripping onto his arms. His fingers slowly pump into you, easing you into the way it feels for him to be inside you.
There's something electric about Jungkook. Sends shivers through your spine. Always knew exactly how to manipulate your pussy into doing whatever he wanted, and now is no different. As you clench around him, he's overcome with satisfaction.
"This is just my fingers," he reminds you. "I don't think you can handle my cock."
Scoffing, you're desperately trying to pretend you aren't melting for him. "Please, I can handle it just fine."
"Sure you can, baby," he teases with so much arrogance you kinda wanna fight him again—but it's also why you like him. He challenges you. Gets your brain in overdrive.
And when he crouches in front of the counter, eyes aligned with your exposed cunt, you think you might actually lose it entirely.
His hands are on your thighs, spreading you further, getting a good look at the mess between your legs. When he sighs, the shallow breath that escapes his lips feels like absolute sin against your wetness.
"Oh, you really haven't been fucked since me, have you?" He teases again. "Look at how fucking keen you are. Been missing my cock, huh?"
"My vibrator's been doing the job just fine," you assure him, but it has him pulling back to cock a brow in your direction. He knows many things about you that other people don't, but he was not aware you owned any sex toys. Finds that his cock only throbs even harder in his pants at this revelation.
"Maybe so," he husks, leaning closer just so he drags his flat tongue up your folds. Has to stop himself from moaning, 'cause the taste of you is somehow even better than his memories. "But it's not better than me."
With a point to prove, and a desperation to reclaim you as his own, Jungkook doesn't entertain chitchat any longer. He dives back in, tongue lapping against your lips as his fingers push back inside you. The way he curls them just right as his tongue flicks against your clit is enough to make anyone lose their head.
Hands tangling in his hair, you find your body responding to him in the way it always does; pathetically, needily, hungrily. There's no dignity to be found.
His tongue works against you like a well trained craft, until his lips latch around your swollen bud and begin to lightly suck on it. When he hums in satisfaction—which he does often—the suction only grows stronger.
Gets you whimpering, "Like that. Fuck. Like that."
The build is just as undignified as you are. Your grip on his hair gets tighter, and the shake of your legs grows stronger. Dragging his tongue up and down your folds, he settles back on your clit. Flicks his pointed tongue against you until he knows you can't take it any longer and begins to suck again. Curves his fingers just right. Strokes you so gently that orgasm pours out of you like liquid gold. Guilds him into the most gorgeous aureate glow.
He doesn't ease. Keeps his lips wrapped around your clit. Makes sure you're spent.
When he finally releases you, he's breathing just as heavily as you are. Gets to his feet, fingers still plugged in your tight pussy. Is pleased to find you're just as insatiable as he is, pulling him in for the messiest of kisses as soon as you can. There's no care given for the fact he's covered in your arousal. You just want that tongue of his in your mouth—and when it is, you find yourself moaning from the withdrawal of his fingers.
Your hands reach to the waistband of his jeans to unhook his button. Get his zipper down. Your hands down the front of his trousers, when his thick cock is restricted by his tight boxer briefs. By the tip of his cock, a small wet patch resides; his desperation for you obvious. Gently rubbing your thumb across the pre-cum, all you can think about is his slit, and how you wanna kitten lick across it.
But it's been two weeks of near-constant pining, and all Jungkook wants is to bury himself inside you.
"Let me fuck you," he begs. "Please, baby."
If the girl who had first seen Jungkook in a shared lecture hall two years ago would have known she'd end up in a shitty bathroom with him begging for her, she'd have laughed. Wouldn't have believed it for a second.
Fresh-faced and so out of your comfort zone, the first few days at university were full of potential. It was before you had wised up to your place in the pecking order; when Jungkook was just a boy in your orientation class.
Skin kissed by European sun, there had been a radiance to him that seemed to captivate just about everyone. You weren't the only girl who had been sneaking glances his way.
You'd thought about him a lot in those first few weeks. Came to learn of his family ties around the same time you befriended Taehyung. Stopped seeing him around campus so much, and rarely ever thought of him.
But on those rare occasions you crossed paths, your gaze would always linger.
As he frees himself of his boxers, trousers suspended midway down his thighs, he gently rubs the tip of his cock between your folds and husks, "Always thought you were so pretty, y'know?"
Looking up at you for just a second, he smirks. Looks back down. Continues to rub himself against you, prepping himself with your slickness.
"Freshers week," he continues. "You never came to any of the parties."
The tip of his cock kisses your entrance, but doesn't penetrate. You stay in limbo just shy of what you both want.
"Had a stupid fuckin' crush on you," he admits. Has never acknowledged it before, but has always known. Kept it hidden. Safe. Secret.
"No, you didn't," you smile. He didn't even give you a second glance. Was always you seeking him out in lecture halls.
"I did," he says with absolute certainty. "You wore that little black sundress on our first day. Had ruffles on the shoulders."
It hangs in your wardrobe, a little out of style but still sweet in the right setting. You know the exact one he's talking about, because he's right. You did wear it on that very first day.
His cock nudges a little deeper. Enough to make you gasp, but not moan. Not yet. Gripping his arms, brows furrowed, you nod. He sinks himself just a little bit further. The feeling is overwhelming; fire on ice.
"Would have fucked you in that lecture hall, if you'd have let me," he smirks.
"You didn't even know my name," you counter, but he cuts your questioning off as he edges a little deeper, still. His hand dips to gently rub languid circles on your clit. He's not pushing himself any further, not yet. Wants to ease into how this feels.
"I did," he admits. "Listened extra hard during the roll call."
"So this has all been some big elaborate scheme to get into my pants, huh?"
"Is it working?" he jokes, leaning over to yank the cabinet above the sink open. A few random bottles and packets clatter into the sink, but he doesn't care.
He's looking on the top shelf, rifling through old boxes, sending more miscellaneous objects to their untimely demise. Spotting what he's after, he's assertive as he knocks the cabinet shut. Passes you the box.
"S'all there is. They alright?"
"Sure," you say, pulling one of the foil packets from the box. You check the date stamped on the front—only to see it's a year out of date. Some protection would be better than none, regardless of the date, but fuck it. You're on the pill. "You haven't fucked anyone else? In the last couple weeks?"
"What?" His brows contort in confusion. "No."
His expression softens, but is still laced with confusion when you toss the box of condoms down into the sink.
"I don't care. I don't want them—"
You're cut off by the way Jungkook clasps your jaw, keeping your eyes locked on his. There's a seriousness to him now; the same demeanour he holds himself with when he was taking photographs. He's intentional. Assertive.
"Promise me," he says with stern certainty. "You want this?"
When he's got you like this—legs spread, body his to claim, your soul to take—it's impossible to do anything but comply. See, things with Jungkook are reciprocal. Your feelings, your tortured misunderstanding of how a relationship could ever work, and his seriousness, now, too.
"I promise," you swear.
As a chaste kiss is pressed to your lips, his hands stroke down your spread thighs, pushing you a little further open for him.
"Can't unfuck me," he softly reminds you. Is taking his time not for the anticipation, but because he's scared. "If you fuck me raw—"
"Then I fuck you raw," you simply repeat, knowing that it's up to you to ease his woes. If anyone should be scared, it's you—yet there's a safety that comes with being with Jungkook. Smirk, then say, "Trust me. I know I can't unfuck you. I've been trying to forget—"
"Ouch," he laughs, nudging his nose up against yours.
"—but you're just..." you tailed off, not wanting to compliment him too highly. He's still in the dog house. "Memorable."
With a sardonic smile that he knows only means trouble, you reach down to grip his incredibly pert ass cheeks. Squeezing, just because you can, you encourage him to push even deeper into you—and he's the one who whines, now.
"God, you're so fuckin' tight," he praises with such pained desperation it almost sounds like he'll cry. He won't. It's just that he can't quite believe that he's raw inside you right now, and that you feel just as good as he always imagined. Better, even.
"Yeah?" You question, as you pull his hips closer, gasping as he finally sinks his full length into you once more. His fingers were thick, but they've got nothing on his cock. Like he's taken all the air from your lungs, your voice is all light and airy. Makes Jungkook even more insane.
"Yeah," he mumbles as he nods into a kiss that is just as feverant as his need to pulse his hips. He doesn't dare do it yet. Is waiting for you. "Feels so fuckin' good."
"So just fuck me," you hungrily moan into his lips.
You're challenging him deliberately, and it works a fucking treat when he pulls back with a grin. He doesn't withdraw himself, but he does pulse his hips ever so slightly. Keeps you plugged. Is just nudging even deeper into you as he keeps a hold on your thighs, keeping them spread nice and wide.
"Say please," he grunts as his pulsing becomes a singular deep thrust.
Your argumentative streak wants to fight.
You'll berate yourself later for the way you whimper, "Please."
His thick cock withdraws just a little to push back into you. He groans. Curses. Builds momentum. Speed.
The sound of his skin slapping against yours as he pounds himself into you is impossible to ignore. Your moans build. Double. Treble. He's grunting too, and then his lips are on your neck. It's a mess, quite frankly.
In the sordid shadows of this bathroom, your bodies become acquainted with an intimacy not yet bridged before. You can pretend to ignore each other in the hallways of your shared lecture buildings, but you'll never be able to ignore the desperation you have for one another. Jungkook was right. You can't unfuck him. And now he's fucking you raw, it only make it even more potent.
Harshly pulling himself out of you, Jungkook almost fuckin' cums on the spot when he realises how soaked he is from your arousal. It's not like it's a new thing, but skin on skin, it's so much more intense. Gasping from the sudden loss of pressure, you're a little unsteady. Lurch forward as if your body could stop him from withdrawing.
Holding the base of his thick shaft, Jungkook spanks against your pussy with his cock. Rubs your slick wetness around with his tip. Hooks his elbows under your thighs. Pulls you closer. Instructs, "Arms around my neck."
Wrapping an arm around your back, the other one tucks under your ass as he lifts you.
He turns. Presses your back to the wall, and lines himself up.
"Legs around me," he tells you, and as soon as you do, his cock pushes up into you again. He keeps you pinned against the wall as he begins to fuck himself into you, his lips pressing wet kisses to the curve of your neck.
The sight in the mirror behind him is lethal; his broad back covered by his shirt, but it doesn't matter. You know what he looks like. Know his muscles, and the valley of his spine, like the back of your own damn hand.
You wanna see it though. Give it a tug. Send him the right message. Get him tearing his shirt off and dropping it to the floor for you. Victory is so damn sweet.
"Kook," you whine as he really begins to get deep. "You're gonna make me cum."
"All over my cock, huh?" He grunts. "Gonna cum on cock, are you?"
His taunting only makes you whimper even more. "I'm so close."
And because he just likes to get you all whiney and needy, Jungkook stops. Puts you down. Gets you facing the mirror as you protest his unfair stealing of an orgasm.
But then he's lining himself up again, getting ready to take you from behind. Spanks your ass ever so quickly.
Sinking into you again, Jungkook curses. "Tighter like this."
"Good?" You pathetically check, and Jungkook can't help but think it's sweet.
"Yeah, babe," he promises, and pretends as if it's completely usual for him to speak to you so tenderly. "Feels so fuckin' good. Missed you so much, gorgeous. You and this tight cunt."
"Romance," you joke through your needy whines. He smirks at this, and delivers a curt little spank to your ass.
"I can be romantic," he assures you, as if you aren't being soundtracked by the sound of your skin slapping together, his thick cock fucking itself into your soaked hole.
His eyes rise from the steady gaze he'd had on your ass to your eyes.
Slowing himself, Jungkook holds his cock inside you without thrusting. Says, "I made that photo you took of us in your room my fuckin' phone wallpaper. I listen to that asmr guy you like before bed, every single fuckin' night. I keep one of your ribbons tied around my gearstick. That romantic enough for you?"
There's an incredibly bashful smile on your pretty face, which contradicts the way in which your pussy is tightening around him in the most lewd of ways. You're giggling when you say, "Shut up and fuck me."
But then he's giggling too, just how you like him to be. Says, "I missed your body, but I missed you more. Stupid."
"You're stupid."
"You're stupider."
"Kook," you laugh, as he's completely forgotten the task at hand. The way that he looks at you, you'd be forgiven for thinking he has. Truthfully, the connection he has with you is so much more than what sex has ever been for him before.
His hips lightly pulse, as he says, "Sorry. Where were we?"
"Think you were gonna make me cum."
"Ah, yeah. That. My bad."
His gentle thrusts begin to build pace once more. The grin on his face drops a little as he begins to concentrate on you. Watching him in the mirror, you're perplexed to be reminded of just how ethereal Jungkook looks when he fucks.
The deep ridge between his brows intensifies, as his mouth hands slack. His cheeks hollow a little, and his eyes remain entirely focused. Dark. Deep. Brooding.
As his hand dips around to gently stroke against your clit, Jungkook is just as taken away by the way you look. He isn't sure what it is that gets his heart so heavy in his chest, but he knows that he wants you to cum. Doesn't give a fuck about himself.
The walls of your cunt begin to tighten around his length as your moans deepen. You whine his name and he encourages a response, but neither of you can really talk. A numbness is washing over you, your balance unsteady.
"I'm gonna..." you begin, but find it impossible to finish.
"I know, baby," he nods all out of breath and desperately fucked out. "Give me what I want. Cum for me."
You trust and keep your eyes on him, but the nudging on his cock against your g-spot and the slow rubbing of your clit is just enough to tip you over.
"Kook," you whimper as your walls begin to tighten around him, but it's fruitless. There's a shake to your legs, and he's the only thing keeping you supported.
"Oh, fuck," he curses from the strength of your pussy around him. He's shaking just as much as you are. "Cream on this cock, baby. Oh, fuck. Yeah.Just like that. You're gonna make me cum, too. Gonna make me cum so fuckin' hard. All in your pussy. You want that, huh?"
It's as you're desperately whining, cumming all around his thick shaft that Jungkook feels his body lose control. There's a tightness to his balls, and a shudder to his sternum, that he hasn't felt since the last time he was in your bedroom. Last time he was in you, more specifically.
"Kook," you whimper his name, and that's when Jungkook really can't hold back.
"Yeah, babe," he rasps, as his hard thrusts become pathetic stutters. "I'm cumming."
The announcement isn't needed, for you swear you can almost feel it as his thick cum begins to fill you. The lack of a condom makes it all the more primal, the way his body shudders indicative of just how much cum he's filling you up with.
His body collapses on yours a little, his clammy torso pressed to your back. The dress you're wearing is barely on properly, and the feeling of his skin against yours is catastrophic. As intimate as sex is, it's this right now, the beat of his heart thrumming against your spine that is the real disaster. How you can ever look him in the eye again is beyond you.
But then his lips are pressing chaste kisses to the curve of your neck, and his hands are squeezing at your hips. He doesn't pull out. Keeps himself warm inside you. Says, "How the fuck am I ever supposed to give you up, huh?"
That's the thing.
He isn't supposed to, and you damn well know it.
Reaching back for some tissue to help you out, Jungkook slowly withdraws. Holds his hand beneath your pussy, then replaces it with tissue. Turns you around and lets you take over.
"Here's a radical idea," you offer, not looking at him as you quickly make sure you're decent. Stay standing with your legs crossed, just in case. "Don't."
Pulling his shirt back over his head, Jungkook presses his back to the wall. There's a distance between you, yes, but you don't really feel it, 'cause it's purely physical.
And it's not like it lasts for very long either, 'cause Jungkook decides he needs to kiss you all over again.
"Alright," he whispers against your lips. "Say we don't. Say I wanna be yours. What the fuck do we do now?"
You shrug. The answers aren't yours to decide. It's up to you both.
"Well, firstly I'm gonna text Tae," you hum. "Tell him you're still an asshole and that I need to be let out immediately."
It's been half an hour.
He came to check on things about ten minutes ago.
The music might be loud, but not loud enough to drown out the way you guys fuck.
Summer had been quiet. In his car, in your empty house, you've never had to keep it down before. Didn't even realise quite how loud you were being.
Which is why Jimin is the one who unlocks the outside bolt with a smirk a few minutes later, Taehyung watching on with a little disgusted grimace a metre or so back.
"Gross," he whisper shouts at you, but then he's smiling, too. Notices how Jungkook touches you—the hand he has on the small of your back, and the way he clasps your hand as you begin to walk ahead of him—and finds it impossible to be mad.
"C'mon," Jimin calls behind himself, leading you up and out of the basement. "We're going to the diner."
"We?" You question, incredibly confused.
"We." He simply says. Doesn't leave it up for debate. Gathers up the rest of the Untouchables (though Claudia is noticeably absent), and tells them the same thing he told you. Drags Taehyung along as well.
Jungkook was scared of integrating you into his life, but there's no other way to do it. Has to rip the band aid off.
As you walk into Montgomery's, hand in hand with the boy who had spent his summer wasting away with you in here, both of you realise that maybe it isn't such a huge deal.
Or at least, you do until Maria clocks you. Eyes darting from you, to Jungkook, and then to your gently clasped hands, she's in a state of absolute shock. Almost drops her tray.
"Sorry, what the fuck?!"
#byholly#jungkook fanfic#jungkook fanfiction#jungkook angst#jungkook smut#jungkook ff#jk ff#jungkook x reader#jungkook imagine#bangtan fic#jungkook fluff#college!jungkook#non idol au#bts fanfic#bangtan ff#jungkook fic#jeon jungkook x reader#college au
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Ok so I think I may be losing my mind over some plastic wrap lmao
But PLEASE look at this and tell me I'm not crazy and this is actually weird:
Karen I'm begging you to explain to me why the fuck do you have 2 plastic wrap packages from different brands UPSIDE DOWN in your kitchen cabinet. PLS.
Is it just me?? Is this completely normal and I'm losing my mind over nothing??? I mean probably but WHY ARE THEY THE ONLY THING THAT'S UPSIDE DOWN AND PLUS THEY'RE COMPLETELY LEGIBLE
So since I've spent the last 3 hours looking at fucking plastic wrap let me share some thoughts:
First of all, to structure this mess in some way, let's look at the dates. First, at the Reynolds Wrap invention date. Bc PLS LOOK AT THIS
Oh. Looks like it was created in 1947. Do you guys wanna know who was also born in 1947??
I. Uh. What the fuck. WHAT THE FUCK.
"It could be a coincidence" Dude I KNOW I'm just doing this bc I've spent hours researching about plastic wrap and I NEED to tell someone ok y'all are my therapists ksjdalkj
Now the Glad Wrap was founded in 1963, and some pages say that Kali was born in 1963, others in 1964, and others that in s2 she's 16/17 so there's no way she was born back then; so idk about this date.
Now let's go with the ads, starting with Glad Wrap bc it's by far the most interesting one.
I've seen multiple commercials but none of them seemed to have anything meaningful EXCEPT FOR THIS ONE WHICH IS MAKING ME ABSOLUTELY LOSE MY MIND:
youtube
Am I crazy. Do I seriously need to sleep. Or does that look an awful lot like Karen Wheeler??? Especially here in s4????
I mean, the hairstyle and the blond hair, but much more importantly, the outfit.
Like?????? I mean I get that it's 80's white wealthy woman fashion, fine, but that's a whole load of coincidences???
Now for the rest of the ad, the plastic wrap thingy that attacks the woman is pretty interesting, as well as the clock in the background for Vecna reasons. Regarding similarities with the Wheeler's kitchen, I could only catch due to the low quality the bowl with apples and the phone on the wall (you can't see it on the screenshot but there's a phone behind Mike). I couldn't really find anything about the strawberries, but if y'all know something pls tell me
As a bonus, the ad is from 1987, which as far as I know is when everyone guesses s5 is gonna take place in
Now there's no much to see in the Reynolds Wrap ads, except maybe this one:
youtube
(Ignore the yt bar lmao) Although not as much as the previous one, the woman's outfit in that frame does remind me of this Karen s4 look, the same look she has on that scene the damn plastic wrap came from.
Ik this is all probably meaningless, buuuut do you guys want more meaningless shit??
Let's go back to the Glad Wrap ad. The slogan for that specific ad is "Don't get mad. Get glad." Welp, Vecna's a fan of this last word bc out of 9 times it's said in s5, 4 are said by him.
Let's take a quick look at the most interesting time he says that word. We're in Vecna's monologue in chp 7, and in the same scene just some minutes before, he says this:
"I could not do that. I could not close off my mind and join in the madness. I could not pretend. And I realized, I didn't have to."
Let's remember the slogan: "Don't get mad. Get glad."
Then, a couple minutes later, in the same scene:
"And soon, others were born. You were born. And I am so glad you were, Eleven. So very glad."
Now literally two seconds before this last line, this shot was happening:
And. Um. Do you. Do you guys know what's used for tattoos. Um.
Plastic wrap???
Do y'all get why I said I've a hundred percent lost my mind sjdfisdjfil
Ok so. That was it. Anyways I couldn't find anything else important about the rest of items in the kitchen shelve. If y'all have a better explanation as to WHY TF are those plastic wrap packages upside down and perfectly legible, PLS TELL ME. This said, goodbye
#giving a kiss on the forehead to everyone who read this whole thing muac muac ily#dude i was making an actual interesting post till i noticed the fucking plastic wrap and now i can't even remember what i was doing lol#byler#<<<target audience#stranger things theory#stranger things#henry creel#vecna#martin brenner#stranger things analysis#stranger things set design#set design#mike wheeler#karen wheeler#henry creel theory#karen wheeler theory#001
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Milo with piercings and other features I imagine he has (and some hcs with Sweetheart hebehebeeheb)
Piercings!!/jewelry
He has them Dahlia piercings (lol) look them up they’re so cool
Has piercings on his ears, a few studs as well as a nose ring
Definitely buys different kinds of earrings and stuff to decorate his ears depending on the event
Brow piercing, especially on the right brow UGHH
They’re all gold colored, he also has some regular silver and black, has a few green colored studs as well
He’s gotta own a few gold chains (as a gold chain haver myself lmao), he keeps them in good condition
Sweetheart got him one as a gift and he teared up, kept asking them how much it was and they only said for him to not worry about it(it was expensive) - he wears it everyday and night and even in the shower
His neck sometimes gets nipped by the metal and when Sweetheart sees him bring a hand to rub at it, they ask, "Why don't you take it off?" And he says, "Eh, I don't wanna... it's from you, sure as hell I'm not gonna take it off."
Features:
Symmetrical beauty marks under his eyes (Sweetheart absolutely LOVESSS them, kisses his eyes a lot because of them), and on his cheeks too (genetics are INSANEEE)
Sharp canines,,, yesssss
Few patterned beauty marks on his shoulders
Most of his skin is just bare and smooth but Sweetheart loves when they see his beauty marks on his shoulders or his face when he’s taking a shirt off or resting
His back has a few long scars from sparring with the other wolves when he was younger, he didn’t want them healed fully, let them scar as a learning experience, Milo lets Sweetheart massage them or put a balm on them so the tissue doesn’t get weird, he feels all mushy (in a good way) when Sweetheart unexpectedly kisses down his scars (he makes sure to tell him it feels good too AWGWGW)
Really REALLY soft hands
Light chest hair (HSBSHS WORK WITH ME OKAY LET ME COOK)
Chest tattoo, it’s a singular design he made up himself (drew it and everything), it’s probably a symbol that’s important to him/his mother and his way to honor her, he has accompanying designs on his fingers
Tattoo of Sweetheart’s name on his nape (tell me that this wouldn’t look nice,, I’ll wait)
(Off topic but I saw a post where Marie and Colm have tattoos of Milo’s first paw prints of when he shifted for the first time and he would def do the same if he and Sweetheart have kids)
He and Sweetheart get ring tattoos on their ring fingers when discussing getting rings (I love that audio), they wear the actual rings on their thumbs
My personal opinion but he would not have grills ❌❌ (never liked those but to each their own !)
He has golden eyes (all wolves do and it’s just a variety of shades but his are golden golden and they’re so pretty, he wears brown contacts/Unempowereds see brown to cover the color)
Sweetheart has smile lines, they popped up after meeting and getting with Milo, Milo ADORES them
They used to hide their smile before meeting Milo, needless to say, they smile widely now, teeth and all and its the cutest to him, seeing that smile is how Milo knows that they're comfortable and relaxed and having fun
Theyre at least 6'3 , buff and curves THEY GOT IT ALL
Sweetheart works out at the gym semi regularly and Milo practically drools when he sees them and their muscles , they have long legs(LEG MUSCLES TOO) and he's all over them
Sweetheart loves his arms, no reason, they just do
They like to feel up and down his upper arms and his shoulders, he likes the touch
He has super curly black hair, got it from his mom (we love you Mama Greer) while most of his sisters have straight/wavy hair like their dad, no facial hair
He’s just reaaaaaalllllyyyty hot in general ouughhhhh 🫣🫣🫣
#redacted audio#redacted asmr#redactedverse#redacted milo#redacted sweetheart#redacted wolf boys#qhoa has words#OUGAHHAHH#he is def afrolatino#Mexican and Kenyan argrhfhf#and multilingual
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Despite Your Flaws: Vergil x G/N Reader
SUMMARY:
Vergil and you are spending a soft moment together; one where Vergil asks a question that has been on his mind since V defeated Urizen.
BEGINNING NOTES:
I wrote this while listening to “Our Happy Ending” from Buddy Simulator 1984 (I'll link it below). I highly suggest reading this while listening to it. The song helps set the tone; plus there are no words so it doesn’t mess with your reading (at least that’s how my brain works lmao) and it's short.
Quick reminder: Check my H/Cs for what Vergil is wearing--you can find it through the AO3 link below.
🟪💠⬛🟪💠⬛
Vergil x G/N Reader
Fluff
Not angst per se, but kinda sad
Short and cute; at least I think so anyway
==
The room was quiet except for the faint baroque-style music coming from the record player. In the middle of the room on the queen size mattress were two people; the eldest son of Sparda and you, his beloved muse. The pair were leaning up ever so slightly against the headboard; Vergil had a book in hand while you were studying the former.
It was the first time in a long time that the both of you took a day off to yourselves; one that was only about relaxing and indulging in each other’s warmth. No training. No paperwork. Nothing. Just the two of you intertwined in one another’s limbs.
An unintentional quiet delighted hum emanated from you as you mindlessly traced Vergil’s tattoos; something you used to do quite often with V. However, when compared to V, tracing the complete man’s skin was different.
He is more muscular than V. Vergil’s skin is much warmer and rougher to the touch; the divots and seemingly random scarring that adorned the pallid skin only added to the sensation. Despite them being the same person, their reactions were almost opposites; V would seemingly melt into your touch, while Vergil tends to flinch and pull away from your soft touches--which you'd never hold against the tormented man, but it was still different.
“I do not understand why you do that,” Vergil sighed as he watched your hand travel up his forearm.
You looked up at him with a raised brow, “Do what?”
A soft thump came from his book as he shut it, focusing on the conversation, “Trace those.”
It wasn’t surprising that Vergil disliked his tattoos, not only because of the painful memories that spawned them but because of the man who adorned them before.
You gently traced down one of the larger lines, “I don’t really have a reason,” your fingers ghosted the back side of his hand and down his knuckles, “Do you want me to stop?”
Vergil set his cheek against the top of your head and grabbed your hand, “May I ask you something?”
“Sure.”
“Do you wish I was-” his brow twitched at his thoughts, “was still him?”
A small sad frown pulled the corners of your lips down, “What? Who do you mean?”
“V.”
You shook your head gently, “No,” your fingers tightened around his, “I like having the entire person; not just half.”
Vergil stared down at the intertwinement of your hands, “Are you… sure..?”
“Of course,” you got up and moved to sit on his lap, wanting a better view of your lover, “Why would I want anyone else?”
“V was much kinder to you,” his eyes avoided yours, “He was more personable… V was raw unfiltered humanity; why wouldn’t you want that?”
“Because,” you gently pulled one of his hands to your lips and kissed his knuckles, whispering softly, “I prefer a man with flaws rather than one who is perfect; if they are perfect, they cannot improve, cannot change. Flaws are what makes someone human, Vergil.”
He shook his head ‘no’ and looked at you with a furrowed brow, “That doesn’t make sense; V was precisely all of my humanity, how could he not have been human?”
You gave him a soft comforting smile, “Just because something is labeled as one thing doesn’t mean that it fits said category; you are a prime example.”
“How so?”
Your smile widened, “One could label you as a fickle evil man, while all I see is a man who was hurting, who needed help and couldn’t find any; someone who acted out of pure emotion. A man who needed to be cared and loved for.”
Silence fell back over the room as Vergil mulled over his thoughts and shook his head.
“But why do you care for me? After everything that I am responsible for causing? Why wouldn’t you want someone free of those sins?” Vergil’s face was that of curiosity but his voice had an underlying sadness.
You gently placed your palm on his cheek, rubbing it with your thumb, “Because you deserve it. Because I fell in love with Vergil; both halves of you.”
He scoffed and turned away from you and your palm.
“I mean it,” you took your other hand and used it to turn his gaze back to you, holding both sides of his face in your hands, “Despite everything, you still deserve to be loved, to be cared about; no matter what. You are a sweet and loving man, Vergil. I wouldn’t trade you for V, for Urizen, even for the world itself. You mean more than anything else ever has to me, my dear. I would follow you to the ends of the Earth if that is what you wished. I could die tomorrow and I wouldn’t regret a single moment spent with you; only that I couldn’t spend more of my time with you.”
Vergil turned his gaze down a bit, blinking slowly, “That is a dangerous mindset; one that could be taken advantage of, you know that? How do you know that I won’t do so?”
“I trust you,” you smiled warmly and paused for a moment in thought before smiling wider, “ ‘For Mercy has a human heart, Pity a human face, And Love, the human form divine, And Peace, the human dress’.”
The blue devil smiled and turned his gaze back to you, “Have you forgotten that I am half-devil?”
“Not in the slightest, in fact,” you squirmed closer to him, placing your forehead against his, “I can hear a loud purring from him.”
Embarrassment spread across Vergil’s face, “You are hearing things.”
You decided to ignore his comment, “You know, I like hearing you purr, Vergil. It lets me know that you’re happy, at least to some extent, and that’s all I want; for you to be happy.”
“With you my love,” Vergil placed a gentle sweet kiss on your lips, “I am in pure bliss.”
==
ENDING NOTES:
I have been working on a smutty Vergil fic and needed a break so I just wanted something short, cute, and soft.
Also for more context: Vergil will never admit it but he sees/saw V as the "better" half of him. Urizen was a powerful brute but that's not what Vergil wants to be; sure he wants power but a warrior without knowledge is worthless in a fight.
💠💠💠
Hope y'all enjoyed reading and thanks for the support! It truly means a lot to me after all the other fandoms I've been in; ones where it is so toxic that I never shared my stories or art, so it's nice to have a kind community like the DMC one ;)))
==
Link for song:
Our Happy Ending: Buddy Simulator 1984
==
If you like this please consider checking this on my AO3. There are extra chapters and my H/Cs over there, so please consider checking them out! Comments, Likes/Kudos, and shares are always appreciated! Thanks so much for reading!! :)))
MASTER LIST FOR TUMBLR
#devil may cry vergil#dmc vergil#devil may cry 5#devil may cry#Vergil x reader#vergil x g/n reader#vergil x male reader#vergil x female reader#oneshot#reposted from AO3#fluff#Vergil at the core is a soft man who needs a hug#you cannot convince me otherwise#I just wanted some cute Vergil stuff#Youtube
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Came across a tiktok of a tattoo artist putting a potential client on blast because she apparently left a bad review because the artist wouldn't tattoo a bnha fanart tattoo on her (the fanart was drawn specifically for the client based on a fic she wrote, according to the tattoo artist). In retaliation, the artist reverse searched the fanart, found her fanfic, looked into her ao3 bookmarks, and found smut and was attempting to shame her for liking "the nastiest tagged smut ive ever seen of underage boys" and I was genuinely in shock like I actually forgot people like that exist lmao like what do you meeeeeaaaaan.
I went into the comments to see if anybody would call her out for her weird boomer-esque evangelical revenge plot but everybody seemed to be on her side except for ONE person and they all dog piled onto that person and called the fanfic writer a pedo
Like whaaaaaaaat? What the fuck? Huh? What? First of all how did the algorithm feed me this tiktok at all but also HUUUUUUUHHHHH????????
Embarrassing. she thought she won the moral high ground lmao
like I get artists having the right to reject clients based on not wanting to tattoo certain things. And maybe that client was out of line to write the bad review but just from that one tiktok, methinks maybe the client had reason to say negative things about you if THAT is your response to a bad review
Ew bro ew
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appears looking at you with autism creature eyes. hello @sangerie your vs bros fankids (one of which i had a hand in making bc. glances at the reblogs/notes in @loopyarts post. i have confessed there fskakfafsga) are really really neat .u.
SPEAKING of loopyarts ty for allowing me to take inspo for nijis kids raid suit fit!! i really liked the softer yellow and the thicker lightning bolts on his pants you gave him so tysm for letting me yoink it <3
uh uhh individual pieces and also design/character rants under the cut bc. i wanna.
RAID SUIT RAMBLING TIME bc i spent the most time on those. also you might be asking 'why is only their hair rendered in those pieces?' well the answer is because i am Lazy. moving on . (/HJHJ i AM lazy but also rendering it further would mess up the colors and i didn't wanna do that lmao. carrying on..)
Ichiji's daughter i am so SO proud of her fit. i did not look up a reference or even inspo ideas at all, that all came from the ole noggin baybeee. anyways she is obviously based off a magical girl(s) fit bc she wants and DESERVES to be. also since Reiju doesn't have any kids of her own (based wine aunt) i also decided to let Little Red have some of her motifs instead of just purely Ichiji's!! primarily the 66 on her pants but also all the pink on her instead of just red :) and obviously she has her dads number and while she DOES have a (white? bc like daddy shes a special little princess /aff) cape i didn't include it here bc it looked reallly bad lmao. but she does have one tucked into the bow probably!! there she is, Sparkling Red Neo!!! (get it.. sparkling instead of sparking... bc magical girl.... im funny i think.) onto Little Ocean Boy
OKAY LET ME TALK ABOUT THE MOST MINISCULE YET MOST IMPORTANT DETAIL TO ME AND ME ALONE FIRST. that being the symbol on the brats belt. it was actually inspired/based off of this post which really stuck with me with me after reading it which i later realized was bc the "that something has been completely reversed" REMINDED ME OF THIS POST OF YOURS. i don't think im especially good at theory crafting but. idk i think there could be Something about how after judge came and turned germa into mercenaries their symbol turned from what once symbolized 'purity' into the skull of war mongers and then BACK to purity after 0124 get germa on the right path... poetry or smthn. ANYWAYS yah shoe shiners got a pretty basic fit bc like i said in the og ask, hes a sora warrior of the sea fan, once he saw the raidsuits irl methinks he'd want to stay pretty close to the og design. HOWEVER he refuses to drop the hat (much to Niji's dismay) and i came up with a reason besides 'its one piece and therefore there's GOTTA be a kid with a weird hat that they're attached to': and that is the fact that it hides his eyebrows. Little Red has the curly brows, all of Yonji's cabbage patch does too, and the brats the only one without. even if literally no one else notices or cares, he wants to hide the fact that he doesn't have em because it Separates him. and he doesn't want that. at all. he really, Really wants to be a part of this family (oh no i made it. angsty). ANYWAYS UHH YAYYY HE HAS A TWO ON HIS HAT (that he sewed on himself which is why i made sure you can see the stitch-lines) BC NIJIS HIS DAD WAHOO YIPPEE :D:D:D Dengeki Blue Neo: little shoe shiner edition!!
UHH second image is just a refined piece of that first doodle i sent you. with lineart and a better color pallet and all. actually looking at it again now i realize i forgot little brats freckles and i am now punching the air bc its too late to fix. just act like they're there. please :,,,) edit: nvm its the next morning i fixed that kjahsdah
i don't even have much to say about the last two because i Think i am Rightgksfjgasjkfa but for the third i think the brats a bad influence on Little Red especially. ALSO FOR THE FOURTH NO I DIDNT FORGET ICHIJIS TATTOO. I AM JUST LAZY. (and I also forgot his tattoo :]) ANOTHER edit: i also. fixed this :]
CHRIST i am incapable of contacting you on Tumblr via any way that includes anything less than 250 words i am so sorry sangerie.. i hope you like these tho cause i really do tbh :3 (PS you have to take literally NONE of what I said here [mostly about shoe shiner] as like.. canon about them?? these are YOUR ocs obvi so please, change Little Red's raidsuit design if you find it unappealing!! make shoe shiner have a backstory of your own!!! i hope that isnt weird or rude to say, i just thought it was important too bc i threw sm at you so strongly ^^' okay thats all tysm for reading this it means to world to me byebye <3)
#one piece#vinsmoke ichiji#vinsmoke niji#one piece ichiji#one piece niji#others ocs tag#vinsmoke siblings#my art#im so happy with how the raid suits especially turned out like i can't get over it#i haven't been truly proud of an art piece for MONTHS this is so refreshing#like this aint perfect in a lotta other places but that alone is carrying this for me#also sangerie i am SO sorry if it looks like im virtually stalking you fjagskdakfsfa first the trans vs sisters and now this..#i promise im not there's just not a lot of ppl in the Vinsmokes tags and you and your stuff is really cool 😭 im normal i prommy /irony#okay ive literally said enough in the post im shutting up now gday or gnight take care#OH WAIT YEAH throwing in a#scopohobia tw#scopophobia cw#bc little brats eyes are borin into ya#OKAY now gday/night <3<3
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Modern OFMD Headcanons: Jobs/Hobbies
Stede - Obviously runs a hotel with his boyfriend Ed. Does a lot of work at the front desk.
Volunteers at the library and reads to kids (may have been told off once or twice for being too loud and working the kids up too much.)
Ed - Obviously runs a hotel with his boyfriend Stede. I feel like he does a bit of everything around the hotel, like he's never in one place, one minute he's helping out the catering staff, the next he's in his office doing paperwork and then off having a chat with random guests. He just wants the hotel to be successful.
Not really a hobby, but loves taking Stede to the aquarium for little dates when they have the time.
Frenchie - Lives in a van, and plays small gigs at random bars/clubs when he can. Busks in the daytime.
I feel like his van isn't neat, but also, not messy, like it's organized in his own messy way.
Jim - For some reason, I feel like Jim, Archie and Oulwande go along with Frenchie on his gigs, maybe to help set up and all that, and also just to cheer him on. (Frenchie groupies, lmao, jk.)
Also does special effects make-up, loves to practice on Archie
Archie: Just wants to be near Jim, but she also loves the nightlife, bars, clubs, anything and she's there, as long is Jim with her, of course.
Zheng - Runs a soup kitchen in her spare time with Auntie. Loves to go along with Oulwande to Frenchie's gigs.
Oulwande - Volunteers at said soup kitchen as much as possible, when he's not with Jim and Archie.
Lucius - Is an artist, basically lives at the local art studio. Loves to just sit at the park and sketch.
Black Pete - Works as a welder or locksmith. Always bringing home small gifts for Lucius when he finishes work.
Wee John - Is a tattoo artist by day and a drag queen at night. Maybe he does a little bar-tending here and there.
Izzy - I get fitness vibes, idk, possibly owns a gym, does a little personal trainer work, but had to slow down a bit after losing his leg. One time while getting tattooed by Wee John heard about his drag shows and went and saw one just out of curiosity and fell in love with drag right then and there.
Spanish Jackie - Runs a nightclub with her bartender husband, The Swede.
Buttons - Is a fisherman with a small boat of his own. Keeps pigeons, and has named all of them. Would live in the enclosure with them if he could. Also likes to befriend stray pigeons
Roach - Is a line cook at a small diner, and sometimes sleeps in the diner when he doesn't pay rent at his apartment (I feel like he forgets sometimes.)
#ofmd#our flag means death#ofmd headcanons#modern ofmd#modern our flag means death#ofmd stede#ofmd ed#ofmd frenchie#ofmd jim#ofmd archie#ofmd zheng yi sao#ofmd oluwande#ofmd lucius#ofmd black pete#ofmd izzy#ofmd wee john#ofmd spanish jackie#ofmd buttons#ofmd roach
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Omg thank you for the innsights!!! I also find Naruto hard to write and I personally find him very annoying lmao. Bleak!primadonna au is amazing because it builds on the last big conversation shikako and naruto have before he leaves, in the land of birds, where shikako tells him to find a better solution then years later in a similar situation (avenging a twin!!!) he can’t. We all know that if shikamaru is not okay, shikako is also not okay. And if shikamaru died shikako would burn the world for him. Also this is your ‘verse, but i headcannon that after the war the twins find a bit more balance in their relationship (not amazing but not a cold war either) and without shikamaru, even if she hasnt needed him to orient her in this world for a long time, post canon without him she just loses her need/will the be a ninja. Nothing matter anymore. She has been close to breaking for a long time already in canon and i just think she was closer to breaking as a person than everyone realized. Also i think tsunade would find it naruto is the one who mismanaged his ninja and deprived konoha of it’s seal master and jonin commander in the same move. Like i think she would totally ask him if losing shikako, purely as a resource (sensor, seal mistress, political, reputation, former anbu) is worth the slight to his morals? Like to tsunades reign she was probably one of her most valuable resources and the loss of such a resource is not to be taken lightly. But she 100% thinks shikako was rash and foolish, but thinks naruto should have had the foresight and known shikako better.
Also i headcanon that shikako resigned from anbu under kakashi, so she never swore absolute loyalty to naruto, which i think would be a very interesting dynamic, especially if he tries to use the tattoo function to (like the hyuga main line!!!!!!!!) to remind her of her vows and his orders and will and then she just turns around and reminds him she was never anbu under his command. (Like i don’t know if this is in character for naruto at this stage of his life, but naruto loves to remind people of their responsibilities and doing the right thing so???). Ahhh delicious delicious conflict!! (Hope i didn’t step on your toes or anything, i am like 99.9% sure i will never write anything in any form for this so it’s all up for editing/interpreting/ignoring) i love this verse and your writing thank you so much <3
Hi again, anon! Let's keep this bleak!primadonna AU brain rot party going! :D
Because, oh my god, I agree so much.
Naruto is hard to write! Or, well, he’s hard to write in such a way where his naivety/stubborness is charming/endearing instead of annoying/ridiculous :( I think SQ does thread that needle pretty well in DoS, but I think there’s also a reason why Sasuke has more “screen time” than Naruto even if you take into account the whole “Naruto is traveling with Jiraiya and Sasuke didn’t defect.” Even in the fandom, there’s more fanfic with Sasuke than Naruto because he’s just so difficult to write him well! He is a moral compass in a fandom that loves nuance, RIP.
I also think that the twins find a better balance in their relationship, especially because so much of Shikako’s secret keeping was because she wanted to keep Shikamaru safe from the incoming S-rank threats. Now that the war is over, no more S-rank threats (theoretically) and so significantly less secrets that need to be kept from Shikamaru. (She does still keep secrets, because I think that’s just how she functions, but a lot less than before.) But yes, definitely for her to be so blindsided by his assassination and then being denied her right to avenge him IS so final straw for her that she would just snap. Like I said before, it almost would have been understandable to her if their dad had been the one assassinated or, at least, Shikamaru would have been alive to slow down Shikako’s immediate, brutal revenge, but for her to lose Shikamaru after EVERYTHING they’ve been through? Like if it were the Akatsuki or something, then she’d almost understand it—or, at least, it would be justified for her to take out that level of S-rank threat. But some weird political bullshit trying to get Temari to go back to Sand, and then when Kankurou sends the councilors over as weregild, Naruto DENIES her that justified revenge? WHAT?! HOW DARE HE? It truly would be a betrayal to Shikako that Naruto would hold his own moral opinions above the Nara clan’s political/legal right to mete out whatever punishment they choose for the Sand councilors that killed their heir.
And yeah, Tsuande definitely thinks Naruto made the first mistake. Shikako reacted extremely to it, which was a mistake as well, but the FIRST mistake was definitely on Naruto for that reason.
I love the headcanon that Shikako resigned from ANBU under Kakashi—less because of the “oath to the Hokage” thing, but more because of a matter of timing? Because the reason why she even joined ANBU in the first place is because of her rapid promotions and also the fact that her (and Sasuke’s) reputation(s) were growing much faster than their skill. They needed to be able to gain experience without having a major target on their backs while also leveling up skill-wise enough to match their reputations. So by the time Naruto would have been Hokage, there’s no need for that subterfuge anymore. Shikako’s time better serves Konoha by being open about her movements/missions/abilities. I see it a lot in Kakashi-centric fic, but the idea that after the Uchiha Massacre in particular, they really flaunted Kakashi’s reputation around as a sort of “see we still have a Sharingan and it’s sooooo powerful, woooow” kind of thing to the point that they wouldn’t even let him do ANBU missions anymore because they needed him doing missions under the Sharingan no Kakashi PR as opposed to the (semi-)anonymous ANBU Hound.
Like. If Naruto is to a level of being Hokage, then Shikako (who in all practicality, is the better Hokage candidate) is similarly such an overt S-rank nin that being in ANBU would, if anything, hinder her abilities since she’d have to anonymize her skills.
I also don’t know if Naruto would try to use the tattoo function in that way—although, that would absolutely be such a… hm… not dark arc, per se, but a “you have crossed a line and we can never go back to what we were” sort of thing. Like in a desperation to just get her to listen he tries it and it doesn’t work but that fact that he even tried it. I don’t think it does torture/pain like the Caged Bird Seal, but it probably does a “pay attention to me” type of thing. Like if the Hokage needs to signal their ANBU guards without being too obvious about it kind of thing. So it’s more of a “hey, listen, I’m about to drop a secret mission on you” than a “you must submit to my will or else” but I think it is the chakra equivalent of grabbing someone’s arm when you’re in the middle of an argument which is sort of like escalating from words into potential violence. Especially if the argument started as Shikako to Naruto, former teammates and childhood friends, both feeling betrayed by each other and mourning Shikamaru but then Naruto trying to use the ANBU tattoo to make her listen to his side suddenly brings in his Hokage status and how legally he can do whatever he wants—it is a military dictatorship, after all, “peace” or no—but then it also highlights the whole issue of this bleak!primadonna AU which is that, legal or no, Shikako literally can do whatever she wants due to her power and ingenuity.
Oh, the Hokage says these people are going to jail instead of receiving the capital punishment? What, is he going to protect them personally 24 hours a day for the rest of their lives? And so what if he does? Shikako’s far sneakier than that. What obstacle has Shikako ever been up against that she couldn’t solve eventually? And it’s so easy for her to do harm, she often has to actively curb her more harmful ideas, it’s so much harder for Naruto to enforce his incorrect decision than it is for Shikako to enact hers. Which, again, the whole issue of this AU.
Anyway, anon, I really appreciate your enthusiasm for this weird AU I made. It makes me so happy that other people are thinking about it as often as I do :D
#jacksgreyson#anonymous#asks#answers#brainstorm#primadonna girl (says no thank you)#dreaming of sunshine#shikako nara#naruto uzumaki#fanfiction
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Ours | Chapter 16
Colson x Presley (Original Female Character)
Synopsis: Presley and Colson fell in love accidentally, but they were meant to be. Now that all the obstacles have been removed, they're moving in together in LA. Now, they have all the time in the world for Colson to teach Presley all of the things he knows. This fic is the sequel to Mine, which can be found in my masterlist!
Warnings/Content: It's Presley's turn to struggle, y'all. Angst, swearing, mentions of suicide, anxiety/trauma, marijuana usage
This is kind of a short chapter, sorry. The angst isn't quite over yet. Remember when you hate me that y'all asked for it lmao
Presley
Of all the weird ways I’ve fallen asleep, I’ve never done it like this.
Colson is still inside of me when we both drift off. I haven’t been sleeping and I know he hasn’t been either. Now that we both finally feel safe, our bodies are shutting down.
We nap on the floor for no more than twenty minutes before we stir and pull our exhausted bodies off the floor. We trudge up the stairs and after a quick stop in the bathroom to clean up, we both collapse into our bed, instantly gravitating towards one another. In seconds, we’re both asleep.
When I wake up again, it’s dark out and I’m disoriented. For a second, panic seizes my chest, but then I realize where I am. Colson is here in my arms, alive and breathing and okay. Megan is somewhere hopefully feeling like the miserable cunt she is while I lie here with my husband. She couldn’t win. I smile a little to myself.
Colson stirs and I gently stroke his hair. “Hi baby,” I murmur after a few moments of letting him wake up.
“Hi,” he croaks, sliding a hand down my waist. “What time is it?”
“Don’t know. Don’t care,” I admit, and I feel Colson smile against my shoulder.
“Missed you,” he says, voice gruff with sleep.
“Missed you, too,” I murmur, running my fingers through his hair. It’s greasy, but mine is, too. We both need some serious self-care.
“Are you okay, baby?” Colson asks.
It’s such a loaded question that I almost want to laugh. Am I okay in general knowing my husband was on the verge of suicide? No. But am I okay right now, in this moment, in his arms, safe and alive in our bed? “Yes,” I say, because I am. We don’t need to figure everything out now. “You?”
“Yeah,” Colson sighs. “I’m okay.” He’s quiet for a moment. “You really went to her house, huh?”
I snicker softly. “I sure did. No one fucks with my man,” I tell him.
Colson chuckles. “I would’ve never let you do that–”
“Thus the reason I didn’t ask,” I say simply, pressing a kiss to his forehead.
“Fair,” he sighs. “Pres…”
“Hm?”
“I love you. So fucking much,” he murmurs, pulling me on top of him. “I’ll never leave you, baby. I’m sorry that I…that I was going to try.”
I blink against the threat of tears, but I don’t want to cry anymore. I’ve done enough of that. “I’ll never leave again,” I promise him. “I’m here to stay. If you still want me.”
“Presley,” Colson scoffs. “Of course I still want you. And if I’m a dick in the future–when I’m a dick in the future – I want you to leave and take time and space for yourself. What you did was not what caused me to make that decision. It was her. Okay?”
I’m quiet for a second. “Okay,” I say, hoping it’s convincing. Colson doesn’t push it and I’m grateful. Colson starts to pull away and I whimper, grabbing onto him. “Where are you going?”
“To take a shower. I smell like hospital,” he says. “Come with me?” His fingers find mine and squeeze and I instantly feel better.
Colson leads the way into the bathroom and starts the shower. I pop two towels into the warmer and take a second to admire my husband as he leans over to feel the water. I scan over every tattoo, every ripple of muscle in his body. I don’t think I’ll be able to let him go anywhere for a while. I need him in my line of sight constantly.
He looks at me over his shoulder and smiles tiredly. Standing up straight, he reaches for my hand and I take it, allowing him to help me into the shower. As we wash ourselves, I hope Colson takes my silence as exhaustion. In fact, we’re both silent until we’re done in the shower, and after drying off, we crawl back into bed. Colson wraps around me from behind and falls asleep almost instantly.
I lie awake listening to his breathing, my eyes wide open. I think the shock is starting to wear off. I can’t stop thinking about the fact that if I hadn’t left, Colson wouldn’t have wanted to kill himself. And if Cash hadn’t shown up, he would’ve gone through with it. And no matter what anyone says, it would’ve been my fault. If I had been home, I could’ve prevented it. But no. I left my husband when he was at his lowest and ignored all his calls and messages.
But now, I have to push it down. I can’t let Colson see how broken I am because he needs me right now. He needs me to help him heal. The very last thing he needs is for his wife to make this about herself. We’re supposed to be happy now. Everything worked out just fine. But I just don’t think it’s that easy for me.
Colson and I hole up in our house for a few days before our friends finally demand to see us. They never really got to talk to Colson after what happened and I know they all miss him.
Colson and I are getting ready to go out to dinner. We haven’t been out since Megan made her allegations; Colson was too nervous to go out in public, which I understood. But now that the world seems to be on the right side, he feels ready.
I, on the other hand, do not feel ready.
But I remind myself for the thousandth time that this is not about me. It’s about my husband.
So I put on a dress. I do my hair. I do my makeup. I put on heels. I paint on a smile so everyone thinks I’m fine. Eventually, I will be. I’ll get through this and eventually I’ll be so used to acting like I’m okay that I’ll actually convince myself.
Colson comes into the bathroom whistling and I jump a little. I glance at him and let out a silent breath when he doesn’t notice my jumpiness. I finish curling my hair while he goes to the bathroom, and when he’s done, he comes over and looks me over, head to toe. We haven’t had sex since the day he got home. I know he wants to, but I’ve come up with excuses. It’s not that I don’t want to fuck my husband. Of course I do. I just don’t trust my emotions not to spill over.
“You look gorgeous,” he says, wrapping his arms around my waist from behind. “You ready?”
“Ready!” I say, smiling sweetly at him. He smiles too, then tips my face toward his so he can kiss me. The kiss makes my knees feel a little weak. He pulls back and takes my hand, and we head out to meet our friends.
We’re going to one of our favorite restaurants. Their food is incredible and I should be excited, but I don’t have much of an appetite. Hopefully I’ll be able to force myself to eat. Colson parks his car and pulls out a joint, which instantly makes me feel relieved. I’ll just smoke and then I’ll be hungry. Perfect. I smoke maybe a little too much, but it’s a good excuse for why I’ll be so quiet tonight.
Colson holds my hand as we walk from his parking spot to the restaurant, and the paparazzi are out in full swing. “MGK! MGK! How does it feel for everyone to see the real Megan Fox?” one of them asks, snapping pictures of us. I keep my head down.
Colson lets go of my hand and I panic for a moment, but then his arm is around my waist protectively. “I’m just glad everyone knows the truth. Have a good night,” Colson says, nodding at the cameras, and ushers me inside quickly.
My heart is pounding once we’re inside and Colson rubs my back. “You okay, baby? Sorry about that.”
I nod, smoothing my dress. “I’m fine. It’s just been a while since that’s happened,” I say.
“I know,” Colson says with a sympathetic nod. He keeps hand on my back as the hostess guides us to where some of the others are already waiting.
I’m a total zombie during greetings. Everything feels like a blur as Colson hugs our friends. I accept their hugs, too, with a polite smile. Olivia’s brow furrows as she pulls back from our hug, keeping her hands on my waist. “You okay?”
“Smoked a little too much,” I lie with a little wince, and Liv grins.
“Been there,” she says with a giggle, letting me go.
The amount of food we order is astounding. When appetizers arrive, it seems like we’ve ordered one of everything. I take enough food to not seem weird and I eat in silence. Luckily, everyone is so eager to talk to Colson that they don’t notice.
By the time main courses come out, I don’t even have an ounce of an appetite. Colson glances over halfway through the meal when he realizes I’m not eating and his brow furrows. “You okay, baby?”
“I’m fine. Ate way too many appetizers,” I say with a little chuckle.
Colson accepts this and grins, pressing a kiss to my cheek before turning back to his conversation with Rook. I sigh and look down at my plate. I can only handle so much more of this, but I know Col will want dessert and maybe even after dinner drinks. The thought of having to be here that long makes me nauseous. Suddenly, it feels like eyes are on me, and when I look up, I see that Cash has his eyes locked on me, his expression suspicious. He narrows his eyes and my heart races. I shake my head at him as if to say what? He gives me a look that says be fucking for real and I roll my eyes, looking away.
Soon, my phone buzzes in my purse and I remove it, opening the text from Cash. What’s wrong?
I roll my eyes and type back a quick response. Nothing.
Don’t lie to me. Cash’s response is almost instant. Another one soon follows. Did you forget your my twin?
Your grammar sucks, I reply, but Cash isn’t having it.
So does your acting. Talk to me or I’ll make a scene.
I know you will, I text back in irritation. I lift my eyes to meet his and he stares right back. I shake my head subtly and send back another text. I’m on my period and it’s making me moody. Happy? The lie comes easily and I look up at my brother expectantly, one brow lifted.
Cash grimaces at me and texts me once more, Gross.
You asked, I remind him, then put my phone away.
Cash drops the issue, thankfully. I manage to keep it together for the rest of the outing but I’m relieved when we finally say our goodbyes. We get in the car and Colson is energized and happy, but I’m struggling to keep my eyes open.
Colson chuckles. “You really did smoke too much earlier, huh?” he asks.
I chuckle half-heartedly and nod. “Yeah. I’m exhausted.” I close my eyes and lean my head on the window. Colson’s hand rests on my knee and my eyes sting with tears but I keep them closed. I cover his hand with my own and breathe.
Colson doesn’t push me when we get home, but he decides to stay up. He tucks me into bed and gives me a kiss. “Hey. Rook’s going to come over and play some video games. Is that cool?”
“Of course!” I say, relieved. Rook will be a good distraction. Colson won’t come check on me, which is good, because I’m not sure how much longer I can hold in my tears.
Colson kisses me once more. “Text me if you need anything. I love you,” he says.
“Love you, too,” I tell him. He smiles at me and leaves the room.
And now that I’m finally alone, I fall apart.
Taglist: @triplexdoublex@jaxbreaker@mgklove99xx@jinx-on-mars-19xx@iamnotanearthlingmotherfucker@anonymousme86@whiteleoqueen@feroniakutenpuu@hxllywoodwhxree
#mgk#mgk fanfic#mgk fan fiction#mgk angst#colson baker#colson baker fanfic#colson baker fan fiction#colson baker angst#machine gun kelly#machine gun kelly fanfic#machine gun kelly fan fiction#machine gun kelly angst
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wait, have you ever seen the larry evidence? these men are still writing songs about each other and fake dating women?? even if they’re not together now, they’re closeted. many ex-boy band members have come forward with their own experiences of being forced to hide their sexuality (i.e., lance bass, ricky martin)
LMAO IS THIS A TROLL ARE Y'ALL FUCKING WITH ME... this is one of my friends isn't it hsjdkghsk /j
Dude I hate to break it to you, but you've picked the wrong Rango to tango with. My irl friend has been studying the larrie conspiracy DEEPLY for more a year now out of morbid fascination, and I've been along for the entire ride. We're losing our shit on the phone as I type this. I made that brba post referencing the black mold thing before it even broke 200 notes. I know about your rainbow bears and tattoos and babygates and 28.
If you've got something to throw at me, give me your best shot. I'm already in the belly of the beast with your so-called "evidence." And I've never seen a bigger crock of parasocial copium and sunk cost fallacy in my LIFE.
Genuinely idk if this is someone fucking with me, but if you seriously obsess over and speculate and state personal details about real people as if they're factual... then you seriously need to reevaluate your life. Not only is it unhealthy, but it's just weird as hell.
You don't know these people, and they don't know you. They're grown ass multimillionaires who can do whatever the fuck they want.
Hell—they've been involved in WORSE scandals than if they were merely to come out, but y'all probably wouldn't acknowledge any of that to save your life—because then they wouldn't be your little victimized uwu boys. The victimization angle is very important to the agenda I've noticed, because if you tell yourself you're always on the defense (or that someone else is attacking you/whoever you're shipping), you're free from having to self reflect. You're the victims, so why would you need to?
Here is the real kicker though. The real nitty gritty. Even if it came out that these guys WERE closeted, it would still be weird and unhealthy!!
It's genuinely difficult for me to even say any of this, because I've seen the decade-long trips these people go on, and i know how insanely detached from reality they get. But in the simplest terms, it's not your fucking business.
Loving someone's songs, being a fan, buying their merch, streaming their music, or hell—even just liking them as people (which is fine within reason, just like anything)—none of these are qualifiers that give you permission to speculate the details of someone's personal life. There are no qualifiers. At all.
Everyone is entitled to privacy, and no amount of fan devotion gives you a magic coupon owing you those private matters. It doesn't even give you the right to speculate on them. Re: the Heartstoppers actor outing incident. You are not a special fan, and you are not owed anything. Especially when there are thousands and thousands of people who also think they're special fans who just "really get the guy."
Even if that's not what this original ask was specifically saying, that's what the whole culture around this bullshit claims. It's implied. "I'm in the special secret circle of people who know what's Really going on! God our boys need us to support them through this separation so bad :'( It must be so hard for them, I can't imagine. Thank god I'm the one seeing their Obvious signals. Thank god they have me. Those non-believers are just homophobic sheep; I'm the only one who really cares."
The only thing you people have done for them (other than adding half a decimal point to their mountainous bottom lines) is ruin their friendships and lives.
Try to imagine having every minute detail of your life documented and analyzed by people you don't know. Imagine all this invasion is being used to prove a lie about your intimate personal life, which you cannot make them stop believing because of the narrative they've already committed to. Imagine your every denial being 'just more proof.' Imagine your child, girlfriend, wife, being sent death threats daily for years. Imagine having everything from your body language to your cousins' instagram likes to your fucking shopping clothes be scanned for "clues." Everything.
Now imagine that same ferocious invasion extends to every friend, partner, family member, and random ass person you stand next to for five minutes--everyone you will ever meaningfully interact with. That's the fucking pain of theirs I can't imagine; not some made up fucking ship fic about how "the big mean suits are keeping the gay babies down ;("
I can't imagine it. I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemy. And I honestly admire their decorum about it. Because if I was in that position long enough to not lose my fucking mind, you bet your ass I would go harder than this:
But who am I kidding. All these sources are just more false flags from HQ, aren't they? When you invent a boogeyman who doesn't exist—when you craft an entire fanfic ARG out of normal, meaningless occurrences—anything can just be waved offg. Anything can be proof, and anything can be lies from management. You're forever liberated from the shackles of critical thinking! How convenient.
I understand that this is a novel and a half for one ask, but don't mistake that as investment in convincing you. I fully realize I sound just like a redditor, but after more than a year of seeing this batshit, that brain fungus meme blowing up out of nowhere and bringing larries right to me? Oh god, that's ambrosia.
I have been confused, fascinated, and disgusted by this fandom for ages; it's like watching a car crash. Despite the length of this, it's never been worth my time enough to start fights with random blogs though. Most are so removed from reality that arguing would be pointless anyway; can't fight delusion with logic. If that worked, none of this would be happening in the first place. So having the opportunity to rip into this shit when it's been doordashed right to me is like crack. With a laughably confident ask to boot.
This isn't me being a tryhard; I know that so many Larries—especially the oddly large demographic of 30+y/o women—are beyond hope. They've put years up to the double digits into this narrative and likely had it impact their life negatively, which tends to happen when you obsess over a conspiracy. To admit defeat now—to accept reality; boring, thankless reality where they aren't the victims with a promised happy ending—would probably break their brains in half. (Not to mention the toxic hazing, doxxing, elitism, and witch hunts that occur in their own fandom. Don't think I don't know about that shit either.)
I say this with hedonistic glee: I wrote this shit for fun. I could have been working on final projects right now, but I wanted to do this instead. It's not so much wanting to be rude to you in particular as it is me ripping into HL fandom and celeb conspiracists in general. Sorry that your ask was the sacrificial lamb, anon, but I would also like to thank you for being on anon so I could go off without fear of people coming to harass you. If you're a naive fan who got indocrinated by other fans, sorry for the rude wake up call I guess, but tbh I'm not really holding my breath.
And let's knock out some allegations before they even start, shall we? I am not a homophobe. I am not saying celebrities aren't pushed to act a certain way or that abuse doesn't happen in the entertainment industry. I don't care about 1D (hell, half the time i can't tell them apart). RPF is at best, fucking weird and at worst, actively harmful. I think 1D's music is mid. I don't think their relationships are fake, nor do I think that WHOLE ASS CHILD is some random hired actor. As a lesbian, that guy couldn't be the janitor of the lesbians let alone the king. Fucking nobody irl talks about these guys. If they came out, it would be old news within a week. There is no Qanon-esque day of reckoning where they're going to come out and shut up all the #haters. There is no storyline; real life doesn't have those. Homophobia is bad, obviously. Regardless of my opinions on their music or crummy things they've done (which I don't even know much about since I don't care abt them aside from the Larrie craziness), I hate that this toxic fan bullshit has affected them negatively and that goes for any celebrity. This is a wider problem than just the 1D crowd; not even gonna touch beatles, tswift, or kpop. Reality has no clues like a fucking Columbo episode. Lastly, y'all aren't even special--said friend has unearthed at least five near-IDENTICAL rpf shipping conspiracies in everything from fifty shades of grey to olympic ice skating. And those aren't even gay, but they still give their fans secret symbols that they're being kept apart for Some Reason through clothing and special numbers.
Anyway. It's finals week and I have life shit to do. Larries, feel free to file this away in your 'Naysayers Who Will Be Proven Wrong Someday!' hoard. Briefly entertaining a reality where they do come out, guess what: I still don't give a shit. They're just two rich white dudes who make top 40 pop songs. Toxic parasocial fan behavior like this would still be just as weird and shitty as it is in our actual reality, where these guys have never openly declared dating anyone but women and verbally detest this shipping behavior.
I swear to God, it seems like most Larrie shippers don't even like the men that actually exist. That's the rub, isn't it? Reality sucks, but fantasy can be whatever you want it to be. All the things you like about these guys are authentic, and all the things you don't are just manipulation tactics by the puppetmaster marketing team. Forget the fact that they're fucking human beings and not dolls for your amusement or comfort.
You have no idea if they're fake dating women. You have no idea if they're closeted. You have no idea if the generic ass love songs they write are about each other. The truth none of you people realize is that you're probably never going to know, and if that just eats you up inside—good. That's your common sense trying to chew its way out of the cage of confirmation bias you locked it in.
#co-written and produced by my friend who is sadly only on twitter#shoutout sam#ask#larrie#larry#one direction#larry is real#harry styles#louis tomlinson#1D#larry stylinson#larry shippers#skit yells
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literally everyone in the villa is trash 💀 who tf are you supposed to pick then??? lmao
OKAY HEAR ME OUT
I hated Suresh from Episode 1 & 2. Hated him. But I can tell you right now - I'm getting vibes from this script.
I have a theory, y'all. But it contains spoilers, so it's below the cut.
MrsBSmooth's theory
So, posting this 9th August, 2022.
I think Suresh is about to have one of the most magnificent redemption arc's we've ever seen in LITG.
He's all in for MC from the very beginning. And yeah, he cheated.
So if we're writers, we're thinking - okay, great, let's make him slowly more and more believable and forgivable.
He thinks he deserves redemption.
But he doesn't get redeemed.
In fact, he gets progressively worse through the first 13 episodes.
Hid a long term relationship from the person he was flirting with? Refuses to apologise for it. Says he's already said his sorries.
Cheated after a huge fight (no miscommunication, 'we were on a break' thing, they just had a fight and instead of fixing it with her, he slept with a girl he'd been flirting with)
Cracks on with Dana and kisses her instead of MC.
Tells MC all about how much his family adored her and how sad they are that she's gone (a little manipulative)
Makes you feel like an idiot for wanting to propose to him.
But here's the kicker. There's a line toward the very end that I didn't actually include in my summary.
He says he would've said yes.
Almost as soon as he says this, he properly moves on.
He pulls MC aside and they have a discussion about their relationship. He's all:
'You must've been thinking about it for a long time, and I didn't even know you were ready to make that commitment. We weren't even on the same page before I cheated. Maybe we were never as compatible as I thought we were. It's starting to feel like we might be worlds apart, if I'm honest, MC'
Almost like this is a turning point for him.
It's at this point he realises that he never deserved redemption in the first place.
Kat's words of questioning whether or not he and MC would both just be happier apart is something that's playing on his mind.
So he wonders whether he should just let MC go.
I think this is why, when Arlo and Meera arrive, Suresh is immediately into Arlo. Flirting with her straight away. Which makes zero sense if he's been all in on MC this whole bloody time.
OK, SO THEN:
We know Casa is coming this season. In Season 2, we went to Casa on day 13. We know there are forty-something episodes in the season, so it might be soon.
But before that, there's a boy's choice recoupling.
However, I wouldn't be surprised if Arlo and Meera get to go first.
Arlo picks Finn
Meera picks ChEddy
Alfie... for some reason picks Dana. He's unsure about MC because of how serious she was with Suresh.
That means that:
Suresh has to pick between MC and Kat. And obviously, he picks MC. We're coupled up again.
And then boom.
Casa Amor.
Again, this is just a theory. No one has any spoilers after Episode 13 right now. So I might end up being completely wrong...
I think he's realised that that he has to stop trying to revive what's already dead and gone. It's too late to pick up where they left off.
If he wants her back, he's going to have to start from square one, and that's showing her he's loyal.
Suresh is going to be the only one at Casa who's loyal. And he will be fiercely loyal. No sharing a bed, no kissing girls in challenges, nothing. He's rejecting every other girl, not even a peck, and everyone starts commenting on it.
He's. Loyal.
(Also, MC specifically says that the girl he cheated with has a turtle tattoo. I think that she's going to be one of the Casa girls. Lingering shot right at the end of a turtle tattoo. And yet, Suresh is still going to stay loyal to MC).
This entire season is not us as the MC. It's Suresh's story. He's being tested in many, many ways, not in the least that his ex (in my case, me) is being a colossal bitch to him.
Suresh is sticking around anyway. He loves her. She's it for him, and he's not losing her again.
Just like he's been saying since day 1.
It was at this point I realised I have a kink for unconditional love.
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For when you got time: do you have any theories or something you would really like to see happening in the next chapters?
Contains content from arc after Hunter x Hunter - up to the latest chapters. Please DNI if you don't want to be spoiled.
Machi's backstory with Hisoka. Really need to know wtf is going on between them that it all lead to what it did in ch 357. They have this relationship that I can't just pinpoint no matter what........
Speaking of which, Machi needs to go up the tier. My girl is still in Tier 5 ;--;
Tserriednich has something to do with Sarasa's death indirectly. Some people also speculated it when Chrollo mentioned about the film set where Sarasa died and 'showing off their artwork' or something along those lines. When I first read it, I thought about the Heily family. Heily was sponsored by Tserriednich until Morena happened lmao. Plus one of the guys who were abductors look like the tattoo artists at Tserriednich's suite.
Hisoka will be the reason why Kurapika will find out that the Troupe is in the Black Whale. This self-explanatory.
I want to see Hisoka see all the Princes and their beasts. You know what I'm interested about? His reaction when he sees Tserriednich, Camille, Halkenburg and Benjamin
I have a feeling Hisoka will sneak into the royal banquet lmao. I can feel it in my bones ahahahhaha
The hidden Nen user in Kurapika's Nen crash course class. Is he a mole from Morena in Tier 1 but couldn't get any closer to Tserriednich that's why Morena wants to lure one or more of his private guards? I wanna know who the person is in the next batch of HxH chapters.
As for the silent majority person, I thought it's the bob-haired girl that Hinrigh first chased in Tier 3 in 390 - perhaps she has powers that don't need her to be actually in Tier 1. Also with revelations in ch 399, Morena is most likely also aware of Kurapika as he is involved in the underworld for awhile now and he is a Prince's guard - probably realized why he is there in the boat in the first place. Idk maybe Morena is testing his patience or something and is considering her as one of her chess pieces. (One of crackhead theories as you can see)
Tserriednich meeting Melody. This gonna traumatized Melody as she'll hear his heartbeat and realized how evil he is. And Tserriednich obsession of art from promising ladies or some sht is making me super scared for Melody. I hope she survives and lives.
Hisoka and Chrollo rematch when they touch down at the fake continent. Fake continent probably has hot weather by then and thus it will fulfill the end of Hisoka's real prophecy from Yorknew
Illumi and Hisoka are working together where Illumi and Kalluto will escape or attempts to, then Hisoka double crosses them or almost does it (crackhead theory)
Shizuku's death. Easiest to target by Hisoka. But if Hisoka won't or can't kill her then it'll be either due to Tserriednich or Morena directly or indirectly
Tserriednich, Halkenburg, Camille and Benjamin's next move. I'm craving for Tier 1 events lmao xD
Hinrigh having second thoughts about double crossing or playing further with the Troupe
More Hinrigh content lmao he grew on me during this comeback omfg now I don't want him to die ;---;
And that's it for now lmao my brain is fried so ima yeet out rn
#hxh#hunter x hunter manga#hunter x 2011#hxh 2011#hunter x hunter 1999#hunter x hunter#hisoka#machi#kurapika#tserriednich#terrorsandwich#hxh spoilers#halkenburg#hxh camille#hxh benjamin#hxh tserriednich#phantom troupe#genei ryodan#hisomachi#hisoka x machi#hisoillu#illumi#kalluto zoldyck#hxh kalluto#hxh illumi#hxh machi#hxh manga#hxh hisoka#hxh kurapika#kurapika kurta
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Hi! I wanted to say that I love how you write Katelyn in your fanfics, she’s so cool. Do you have any recommendations or favourite fanfics with Katelyn in them? I’ve finished all of your KateKevAaron fanfics and I think writers always have the best recommendations!
ahhh thank you!! that means a lot bc i always have so very much fun writing her :)
i do have some recs! putting them under a read more bc i don't want this post to be too long...
first are a few bangers in what i jokingly/privately call the "katelyn lim cinematic universe" (aka fics where writers who are not me use lim as her last name LMAO)
Long Story Short by gus_47
gus fortyseven i think has a direct line into my brain with katelyn interpretations and i need her to keep writing katelyn/katekevaaron forever. in the back of my mind i am always thinking about katelyn lim-minyard in this fic goading aaron into flirting with kevin over text on both of their behalf (behalfs? behalves? idk)
Sad Beautiful Tragic by gus_47
see above! gus strikes again, this time with a katelyn who is so lovely to my babygirl kevin as he deserves <3 (one example of this is her bringing him home six bags of celery, no questions asked. what for, you may ask? who's to say...)
ALSO!!! important: she has an arm/wrist tattoo in this which i think is now canon to me
all that looking down by @jaywalkers
you know when you manage to befriend a writer you've admired mostly from afar and then they dm you to ask if it's cool if they use your interpretation of katelyn, including the last name you chose for her, in their fic and you freak out a lil.....yeah
anyway! this one's kandreil and soo gorgeously written. kevin's friendship with katelyn (and aaron) is one of my favorite things about this fic i will never get enough of it
more recs with portrayals of katelyn that i love!
vanilla baby (how can I be?) by cloudberrysoda
kevaaron with katelyn and aaron as best friends and ohhhh. listen. LISTEN. aromantic katelyn. aromantic katelyn!!! for personal reasons i need more aro (and/or ace) katelyn in my life. i adore how she's written in this. her always calling aaron on his bullshit is sooo canon to me and her teasing him about kevin while kevin is in the room? PEAK
eight seconds left in overtime by ilgaksu
(locked, so you'll need to be logged into ao3 to read)
the writing in this fic is so fucking good i don't have words to describe it properly. i started skimming it to see if i wanted to rec it here and ended up rereading the whole thing, trying to soak in every line. incredible characterization of aaron, katelyn, and andrew, depiction of the twins' dynamic, and aaron being down bad for katelyn (as he should be)
Love Hurts by Fornavn, Moth2Flame
omg while browsing my bookmarks in search of katelyn fics i remembered that THIS is the fic that made korean katelyn canon to me!! this one is super well-written and a very realistic portrayal of the kateaaron development offscreen during the series
some boys don't know how to love by earthworms
really well done katelyn backstory and kateaaron development here, and i fucking love the peek into the vixens in this! i adore the concept of the vixens being a troubled team to mirror the foxes
Seven Minutes by NikNak22
katelyn teaches a slightly bashful/embarrassed aaron how to kiss and it's cute!!! katelyn's so confident in this no wonder aaron is basically starstruck by her
#i may have more saved in my bookmarks somewhere but these are the ones i could find in there that most heavily feature katelyn#i'm also writing more of her bc who would i be if 97% of my fics didn't include her in some fashion#i say 97 bc i realized two of my fics don't even mention her NAME....kate my love i'm sorry..#aftg#all for the game#fic rec#katelyn aftg#katelyn lim#katekevaaron#answered
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ifffff your asks/drabbles are open, can i ask how levi would take care of you while recovering from getting a tattoo? (you’ve gotten one before so hopefully u understand🥺?)
tw; blood mention, tw; tattooing
Thanks @levmada Gee!! I got too into it and did the whole event lmao. wasn't really sure how to frame this since it's a submission but we'll go with bullets points:
I always picture modern Levi with some tattoos. Something small to honor his mother or something from his time living on the streets. So this man knows about them. He knows the pain. He knows how to care for them, knows just how itchy and awkward the healing process can be afterwards.
If it's your first tattoo, or even if it's not, I think Levi would worry. He wouldn't show it too outwardly, but he's not sure exactly what your pain threshold is compared to his. He spends a couple days before hand casually tracing his eyes along your skin, following the thin blue lines of veins. He wonders, do you have thin skin? If it's going to be over a bone, he'd especially be worried about your pain.
He will be there. Especially if you're at all worried about the pain yourself. He'll call off of work if he needs to.
Nags you to eat well before hand and hydrate.
Levi trusts your judgement, so you picked the place you wanted yourself. You've heard good things, seen some gorgeous examples of their work online. Even so he may or may not have looked at their negative reviews, wary of any bad experiences or hygiene complains. The moment the two of you walk in for the appointment, his eyes are sweeping the place for the littlest hint of dirt. He will suggest you cancel at the first sign of any red flags. But, thankfully the coast is clear, which takes a bit of the weight off his shoulders.
He holds your hand during it. Obviously. You don't even need to reach out for him to ask. His thumb slowly rubs along the back of your hand, eyes locked to your face. You can squeeze him as hard as you need to.
It's your body, your decision, so Levi wouldn't mind at all if you have to expose yourself a bit for the tattoo. As long as you're comfortable with it -and he makes sure you are- he is. He will cover you with his jacket if you seem a bit hesitant or even chilly. That's the whole reason he brought it.
Levi isn't really much of a speaker when out in public, especially around strangers. He tends to be gruff and terse, side eyeing people more than anything. When the buzzing starts, the needle digging into your skin, and you whimper quietly, eyes squeezing shut, he struggles. It's a bit difficult for him to speak openly, the stranger right there and your pain building a huge ball of worry in his throat, but he tries to speak softly for you.
At first he tries to make jokes, little quips to try to get your mind off of it. A soft, "You look like your taking a shit." or "Didn't think you were such a baby."
As the pain gets worse, the needle running over already sore skin, you grimace right beneath his worried gaze. Forgetting the stranger completely, he coos softly, "You're doing so well. We're almost done, just a little bit more." And his grip on your hand becomes so achingly tight, outweighing your own pained clasp.
He remains calm, stoic as usual, but you can see the concern in his face. It's not anything that the artist could ever notice, something in the curve of his eyes, the tilt of his brow. It's something only you can notice because you've known him so long.
He talks and talks. In order to distract you, he goes on about his day, recalling for you all of the little stupid things his coworkers have done recently. He's said before that he's not a good story teller, but that's not true. The things he notices are simply different and you're drawn in by the little world he creates with his just voice.
He tells you about how Hange already has a chip in their new glasses. That they'd heard an odd noise coming from the ceiling of their office, assumed it was a squirrel, and had immediately gone on a quest to attempt to capture it. "It was a huge fat fucking raccoon. The freak wanted to keep it as an office pet. Moblit had to go to the fucking ER."
He tells you about the time Erwin had come to work with his shirt inside out, buttoned up and all. "He had a big meeting with the regional manager that day too. Good thing it was over Zoom or that prissy shit would've noticed." You laugh, imagining the giant blond flushed with embarrassment, "You didn't warn him?" "I did.. after."
It works. Just Levi keeping your attention, silvery gaze locked with your own, away from where the ink is painfully etching your skin, helps. You're so entranced by the soft melodic timber of his voice, his eyes sparkling as he speaks, the way his thumb lovingly caresses the back of your hand, that the time passes in the blink of an eye.
Afterwards, you're giddy. Full of so much adrenaline that you're borderline punch-drunk. Loopy even. Levi hovers behind you, guiding you out of the establishment with a hand on the small of your waist.
Even though he has a couple of tattoos himself, Levi knows he tends to react differently to things. His pain threshold is high, he never feels any common side affects. So, before you'd even officially made the appointment, he'd googled common after effects of getting a tattoo. He memorized the list of symptoms for tattoo flu. With one hand holding you steady, wary of you wobbling from a sudden bout of dizziness, he guides you into the passenger seat of his car.
This man is a natural caregiver. Having spent his childhood caring for his sickened mother, he's a natural at watching your face and predicting what you want or need. Just watching you, he can tell that you're off. He knows what is going to follow this energetic high.
As a surprise, he treats you to ice cream afterwards. Usually, there's a hard rule of no food in his car. Even carry-out has to be put in his trunk. But it's okay, "Just this time. You did well. You deserve it."
The adrenaline high doesn't last. Even with sugar rushing through your veins, a severe crash hits before you know it. You feel hot, heavy and achy. Exhausted, your eyes unbelievably heavy before you even make it home.
Levi diligently guides you onto the couch. You sink into it like you're planning on burrowing a hole into the soft cushions. Head lulled to the side, you blink and Levi is suddenly there, pushing a glass on water into your hands. He watches, making sure you drink all of it.
The two of you spend the rest of the day cuddling, his warm side against your own. He checks you for a fever a few times, diligently pressing a quick kiss to your forehead after. When you get chills, he pulls you in closer, tucking a thick blanket around your legs. He makes sure you eat another hearty meal again later, before bed, wary of the bit of blood loss you've had.
Aware of your fresh wound, Levi completely adjusts how he sleeps, switching positions so that you can rest on your uninjured side. He does it automatically, without even a thought. He's more than happy to have you sleeping on top of him, if that's more comfortable for you.
Once the tattoo is less tender, he personally takes care of it. The first time is overly cautious, his fingers gentle, wary of causing you any more pain. It's actually something he enjoys, rubbing his fingers along the new marking, spreading cool lotion onto your skin. It's unerringly intimate, a closeness he's never experienced before. He loves it. He loves you.
The two of you unfortunately can't spend all of your time together, with obligations of work/school. The day after, Levi sends a quick "How are you feeling?" It's short. Cute. Especially since he's barely made it two hours into the day before sending it. Adorable. But you could never tell him that. He texts you every couple of hours to make sure you're putting lotion on the aching skin. Twice a day simply isn't good enough for him. It's kind of silly, he seems more aware of the tattoo than you are.
Once it starts to scab, aching and itching constantly, Levi only gets more insistent on caring for you. He worriedly traces the skin with his fingers, slick with lotion, feeling for any odd bumps or swells. It's unnecessary, this tattoo has probably been the most cared for in history.
It becomes a ritual at night, as you lay together beneath the bedsheets, limbs heavy with lassitude. He traces the lines, slowly dragging his fingertips across your skin long after the wound is fully healed. Sometimes, when your lingering in the haziness between sleep and awake, you catch him doing it with a soft smile on his lips.
Maybe you can convince him to get one next? So you can take care of him next time?
#submission#Levi/reader#levi x reader#myaotdrabbles#tw; blood#attack on titan#drabbles#levi drabbles#fluffy#levi#levi ackerman
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