#and then saying ‘oh my god there’s just some things you don’t say’ | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kurooh · 3 days ago

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★ 02. MORNING ROUTINE !

☆ after filming your first scene and talking it over with your agent, you’re off to your second . . in a maid costume!? once filming is over, you’re roped into an interesting conversation regarding a few other stars.

warnings. 18+ content — mdni, fem! reader, everyone is over 21, oral (f receiving), cum eating, maids, awkwardness, creampie, unprotected sex. | 4.9K words

xoxo, juno. SHES BACKKKKK! comment & rb if you enjoyed! thank u to wolfy anon for proofreading ily ♡

SHOWTIME MLIST.

“hey, good morning,” shinsou rushes up to you at the doors, lightly grabbing onto your shoulder before you can walk into the studio. “how’d yesterday’s shoot go for you?”

“good morning!” you reply happily, lighting up as you turn to face your agent. “let’s get some coffee from the place across the street, and i can tell you while we walk?”

“sounds good,” he exhales, wrapping his scarf tighter around his neck. “it’s definitely getting colder, god. i could seriously use some coffee.”

“ah, it is. anyway, filming wasn’t too bad. i had director iida, i believe? yeah, he was pretty alright.” you and shinsou walk side by side, stopping to hit the button and waiting for the lights to change.

shinsou gives a small smile, crossing the street with you. “how’d it go with your co-star? i figured he’d be a good introduction for you.”

“shōto was nice,” you say, warmth rising to your cheeks. the memory of being pressed against him and fucking is a little blurry, but just thinking about it has your pussy clenching around nothing. the faint feeling of his touch ghosts across your skin, and you clear your throat awkwardly. “um . . i think we ended up doing well together.”

shinsou’s not surprised. after all, he pulled the strings behind the scenes to get you with him.

“that’s good! i’ve been meaning to ask you about what you’re interested to do today,” shinsou holds the door of the coffee shop open for you and follows you inside. “i’ll get you up to speed after we order, alright? and don’t worry, i’ll just cover your drink.”

“oh,” you’re in the middle of unzipping your purse, “you really don’t have to, shinsou! i’ve got it.”

“i insist, it’s my treat.” he leaves no room for you to fight him any further, and you place the order together once it’s your turn.

“what were you saying about filming today?” you draw his attention back to the aforementioned topic as you sit down at a table together to wait for your drinks.

“oh, that’s right. you’ve been booked by a lot of different people, so you’ve gotta choose who you want to film with today. personally, i think you’ve got some decent options.”

“is that so?” you exhale, wondering if anyone else could possibly top your experience with shōto. but of course, you’re employed at a pornography studio, where dreams become reality and anything is possible.

shinsou’s voice drops to a low whisper, his words meant for your ears only. “well, there’s this . . maid thing, or some kind of bdsm shoot.”

“those are not good options,” you groan, closing your eyes briefly in disgust. “who’re the people booking? anyone important?”

“obviously, the maid film is from denki kaminari. the bdsm is—”

you’ve seen denki kaminari’s videos before. he seems to be energetic and also a little pervy, but he’s good looking and you’re not in the mood to be tied up in ropes or chains.

“i’ll go with the maid film. is he offering a lot?”

“kaminari’s a bit . . eccentric,” shinsou offers, waving his hand dismissively. “he doesn’t usually book with a set amount in mind like everyone else does. he prefers to shoot the film and then pay based off of what it makes.”

so, there are a few financial risks when it comes to choosing denki kaminari, but you sigh and bite the bullet. “that’s not ideal, but i’ll take it. when’s it scheduled?”

shinsou looks over at a mounted clock behind you, “if you’re going for this, you’re supposed to be over there in an hour.”

the barista calls out shinsou’s name, and you pick up the coffees while he sends a confirmation email to kaminari’s agent.

your arrival to shinsou’s office is met with an assistant of some kind dropping off a garment bag. through the fabric, you can see big frills and bows that most definitely will be itchy when you’re going around in it.

shinsou takes the bag with a sigh, and the assistant presses a yellow sticky note to the side of it before scurrying off quickly. you pick up the yellow paper and read the messy writing scrawled onto it.

hey! please change into this before arriving to set, director’s orders. we hope the dress is comfortable, even though it doesn’t look like it.

“i assume this is from kaminari?” you say flatly, tugging the sticky note off the bag.

“of course it is,” shinsou replies, holding the door open for you, “you can change in here before you head over. by the way, you’re heading to the fourth floor and turning to the left.”

“thanks, shinsou.”

unzipping the garment bag yields a frilly black and white dress decked out with bows and all kinds of lace. tucked in neatly beside the dress is a folded set of thigh high socks and a prop duster that looks as though it’s never been used. you pull off your clothes and change into the provided ones with little excitement. at the very least, you’ll get paid well and then end up filming something better, hopefully again with shōto.

shinsou nearly drops his phone when you step out of his office in that ridiculous dress—it looks so good on you, accentuating your chest and complimenting your figure beautifully. you fiddle with the bow necktie, fingers tangling in the black fabric. his mouth goes dry when you look up at him shyly, gesturing toward the necktie as best you can.

“could you help me tie this, shinsou?”

“of course,” he nods politely, snapping out of his daze. his nimble fingers undo the knots you’ve created and he ties it easily for you, pulling it into a snug bow. “you look great, by the way.” immediately after the words leave his mouth, he regrets having added that bit, but you smile at him and give him a spin, letting your skirt fan out.

“thanks. wish me luck?”

“good luck,” shinsou laughs dryly, turning away quickly before you can notice the redness blooming on his cheeks. “remember, fourth floor and to the left. there’ll be a sign or something on the door.”

you wave, thanking him again, and you both go your separate ways. the elevator comes quickly, and you go upwards silently, until the elevator stops a floor too early.

“there’s my pretty co-star!” an energetic voice exclaims, and the owner of it steps onto the elevator, practically buzzing with excitement. “come on, we can head up together!”

you recognize him easily; denki kaminari’s signature blond hair has a streak of black through it, and he’s got a winning smile playing on his lips, showcasing his nice teeth.

“it’s nice to meet you,” you say, offering a hand in his direction. his energy isn’t off putting, just a little . . much for the first film of the day. kaminari instead wraps his arms around you and pulls you close, giving you a warm hug as though you’re a long lost friend of his.

the elevator’s chugging upwards slowly, and kaminari’s still wrapped around you. well, okay. this is slightly weird; you’re going to be all over each other in less than twenty minutes and he’s already this friendly? something about him already has you on edge, necktie suddenly feeling like a noose.

you cough, pulling away and practically skittering into the corner of the elevator. he looks at you weirdly, confusion written all over his face, but you straighten and smooth out the ruffles on your dress.

“i’m sorry, it’s—we just met,” you utter, at a loss for words. maybe this is just how he is, but now you’re starting to worry if you’ve jeopardized your dynamic on set with him.

kaminari’s features soften with embarrassment, cheeks growing pink. then he very obviously panics internally, voice frantic and high as he tries to explain himself.

“oh my god! you’re right, i’m so sorry!” he stumbles over his words, and you wonder if the elevator is stuck with how long it’s taking. “i’m sorry, i really . . i’ve wanted to meet you for the longest time, and now you must think i’m a dumbass—ah, sorry!”

at last, the elevator finally comes to a halt. its doors open and you dash out, kaminari following with his head hanging. before you can open the door, he stops you with a sigh.

“wait, i—i want to redo our first meeting.”

you turn, gracing him with your attention and patience. “and how exactly do you plan to redo it?”

“with a proper introduction and handshake. no hugs, i promise.” he seems genuine, and your shoulders start to relax. kaminari extends his hand, a truce, and envelops yours once you reach out too.

“well, you already know me. just call me denki, though, okay? no kaminari or anything.”

“understood, denki.”

the door is thrown open and director yaoyorozu pops her head out, looking left and right.

“there you two are! goodness, i was about to send out a search party.”

“it’s nice to meet you,” you say, shaking her hand and stepping inside behind her. “in the email, you didn’t have any kind of script . . is this some kind of freestyle thing?”

“i am so glad you asked,” she sighs, pulling the sharpened pencil from behind her ear. “i’ve got a simple idea to go off of, but the rest of it is up to you.”

“up to us?” denki chokes out, sounding shocked.

“um, yes?” the director sniffs, confused. “remember, you came to me with all of this.”

“director yaomomo, i thought you’d come up with a script!” he whines lamely, and she only rolls her eyes.

“kaminari, please. next time you’re booking a set, director, and supplies last minute, make sure you’ve got something for them to work with besides a generic concept.”

“director, the pancakes are finished and the set is ready.” a member of the film crew flashes her a double thumbs up and a smile.

“great, thanks so much,” yaoyorozu gushes before turning back toward you and denki. “so, the theme here is maids, of course. in this film, she’ll be waiting on you and waking you up with breakfast while you’re fake sleeping. obviously, you’re aware of what takes place next.”

“so, minimal dialogue?” you ask, folding your arms as you listen closely.

“the scene may have as much dialogue as you want it to. i’ll let you two head off and prep before we get started, okay?”

director yaoyorozu’s dark ponytail swings behind her as she saunters off toward the set to make a few more adjustments. denki waves at you, then heads off toward the changing area while you sigh.

—

“is everyone entirely ready and in position?”

a few stage crew members adjust the lighting and some microphones before giving yaoyorozu confirmation through raised thumbs. she nods toward you, just as someone places a hefty tray into your hands. the silver platter carries a plate stacked high with blueberry pancakes, drizzled in syrup, and a tall glass of orange juice beside it. matching silverware sits neatly beside the plate, atop a folded napkin.

yaoyorozu crosses her legs in her director’s chair, while you try not to shake with the heavy breakfast platter in your hands. orange juice lurches from side to side in the glass, threatening to spill over if you don’t remain steady.

“action!”

you smile when you step through the doorway, sweat beading along your forehead as you try to mask the nervousness. denki’s shirtless and on his stomach in the bed, a mess of sheets and blankets covering his lower half. trembling, you finally set the breakfast platter down on the bedside table, taking a seat on the bed.

denki’s getting hard just from feeling the shift of your weight on the mattress. the director might have to end filming early with the way his breath hitches at the touch of your palm to his back. slowly, you rub his skin in small circles, encouraging him to wake up. is it possible to be aroused from an almost entirely innocent gesture coming from someone you don’t know?

he stirs with a groan, turning over with a yawn. denki looks up at you through hooded eyes, his lower half still tangled in the bedsheets.

“good morning, sleepyhead,” you sigh, a lot less nervous now that you’re no longer holding onto that damn tray. “i made you breakfast and cleaned around the house. gently dusted your figure collection too.”

“t-thank you,” denki smiles, sitting up. “uh, what’s for breakfast?”

“blueberry pancakes and OJ,” you say automatically, cutting a piece off the sticky pastries with the fork. “i think you’ll love it.”

there’s something too intimate about the way you feed him the piece of the pancake, your eyes on his as he swallows it.

“well?” you breathe expectantly, lifting his chin and tilting it toward you when he shyly averts his eyes. the simple gesture startles him, sends his heart into quite the flurry, and denki finds himself fighting to get a grip. really, he’s never been this awkward on set in all his years as a pornstar—in fact, a film like this would be the easiest for him . . so why’s it so difficult?

a few sparks fly between you when denki grabs your chin in return, tugging you into a kiss. you gasp, startled, and he licks into your mouth, letting you taste the sweetness of the pancakes for yourself. seriously, whoever made them deserves head; they’re sweet and fruity, but maybe they just taste better on denki’s tongue.

he moans deeply against your lips, and you swallow the low sound with one of your own. beneath all the frills and lacy ruffles, sticky arousal begins to pool in your panties, soaking through the fabric far too easily. meanwhile, denki’s trepidation melts away fully; he grows more absorbed in the kiss, until he regretfully pulls away for breath.

you look at him through your lashes, nodding blissfully when he looks toward your skirt. denki slowly slips a hand beneath all the fabric and groans loudly, his fingers swiping at your damp panties before moving past the fabric to stroke your slick folds.

before you can move into another kiss, the director lets out a peeved sigh and shakes her head, “cut!”

denki pushes a finger inside of you, savoring the gasp you let out like a piece of specialty candy. “listen to yaomomo for both of us, ‘kay?”

“b-but they’re not rolling,” you protest in a whisper shout, although your hips jerk toward him when he sinks in all the way to his knuckle.

“no rules against it, baby.” the once anxious denki you met thirty minutes ago is gone, replaced with the confident pornstar you’ve come to know through years of watching UA’s videos.

yaoyorozu claps her hands together, facing you and denki but not noticing anything going on beneath the umbrella-like cover of your skirt.

“you’re both doing well so far, but when i said the amount of dialogue was up to you, i didn’t mean no talking at all.”

“do we have to reshoot what we’ve done so far?” you gasp out when denki curls his finger right against your g-spot, sending shockwaves of heat throughout your entire body.

nobody seems to notice the inflection in your voice, and the director offers a small smile.

“no, it’s alright, we’ll just edit everything together before it goes out. you’re both doing great, by the way!” her praise is reassuring, and she hops up onto her chair again, then gestures for the crew members to position the cameras.

“action.”

denki’s lips find yours in a bruising kiss, tongue swiping against your lower lip impatiently. he’s quick to pull you on top of him too, wet fingers tugging up your skirt to give the camera a full view of your soaked panties and ass.

“what about the pancakes?” you ask, remembering the director’s tip about the dialogue. if she were to call cut again, the interruption would surely drive you insane.

“what pancakes?”

“the ones i made for you,” you breathe against his lips, eyes flicking to the bedside table. “over there, with the—”

he takes your distraction as an opportunity to press his face into your neck, taking in the smell of your perfume and the softness of your skin. low and quiet, he whispers into your ear, “fuck, you’ve got no idea how long i’ve been waiting for this—for you.”

you whine as he kicks the bedsheets off his body, firmly placing you atop his hard cock. through your panties and his boxers, you can feel the ridges of his tip and the heat of his body.

“how do you want it?” denki purrs, hands settled on your hips. “from the back . . bent over?”

the options he gives you only ignite the arousal burning in your core further; you move off of him, settling on all fours. the wild look you toss him from over your shoulder makes him groan, and he yanks his underwear and pajama pants off as quickly as he can, hurling them into a corner of the set.

“fuckin’ soaked, baby,” he coos, flipping up your skirt and slipping a few fingers beneath the crotch of your panties. your cunt flutters around nothing as he pulls the underwear off, with enough force for the microphones to pick up the ripping sound that follows. “is this all for me?”

he flings the torn garment off the bed carelessly, and it silently lands somewhere on the carpet.

“o-only for you.”

denki chuckles, and guides his cock toward your entrance, but doesn’t push it in just yet. instead, he strokes the tip up and down, gathering your wetness to provide extra lubrication. the tease has your toes curling and your eyes rolling back; denki gifts your ass with a slap, letting out a low whistle.

“you’ll get what you want soon enough, baby. i just . . feel like something’s missing.”

you look over your shoulder when the bed creaks, your co star’s weight leaving the mattress. he grabs at the drawer of the bedside table, and the glass of orange juice rattles against the silver platter from the movement. even director yaoyorozu looks a little lost for words, her eyebrows drawn together in confusion.

the drawer slams shut and denki returns to the bed behind you in a flash, a miniature black and white vibrator between his fingers. yaoyorozu settles back into her chair with a contented expression, signaling for the cameraman to zoom in between your bodies.

the soft, rubbery head of the vibrator nudges against your clit and you gasp. denki slants his body over yours, pushing his cock inside of you shallowly.

“i—i don’t think i can t-take all of it,” you swallow nervously, inhaling sharply when he bucks his hips forward and plunges inside you, bottoming out easily.

“that’s fuckin’ nonsense,” he groans, pushing a hand through his blond hair to get it away from his eyes. then it wraps loosely around your throat before you can protest any further. “‘course my girl can take it.”

my girl?

denki startles even himself. but this is the magic of being a pornstar and filming around the clock. he’s built up a persona for himself that he always seems to slip into no matter how he’s feeling. he’s thankful for this; otherwise, he’d be a bumbling fool who’d accidentally fuck your thighs, too caught up with excitement to get it together.

his teeth sink into his lower lip hard, scraping against the skin rather roughly as the words burst from his lips uncontrollably.

“g-god, you’ve got no idea how damn long i’ve been waiting to fuck this pretty pussy,” the vibrator turns on and presses flush against your clit, already at the highest setting. “ngh, you’re so tight, baby—got me all worked up with the little maid dress, heh. you look beautiful in it, i swear.”

his babbling soon falls on deaf ears, and you unintentionally tune him out, unable to hear him clearly over your ragged moans and cries. denki’s hips set a somewhat even pace, skin smacking into skin while the vibrator seems to only get more intense.

“c’mon, babe, arch a lil more for me,” he huffs, his palm nudging against the middle of your back.

with a whine, you do as he instructs, burying your face in the sheets.

“aw, i still wanna hear you clearly.” denki clicks his tongue, his fingers leaving the sides of your throat and instead tugging on your necktie. he turns it backwards and pulls your head back so you’re not muffled any longer.

“f-fuck, you’re so deep,” you sob, his strokes growing faster and rougher. the bed creaks beneath you, shaking loudly, and despite his panting, denki’s determined to give you the best sex you’ll ever have at UA studios.

“yeah, babe? feel my cock right here in your tummy?” denki’s voice is strained, his free hand wandering to the plush skin above your pelvis. he presses down experimentally, and he swears you get tighter.

it’s only a little pressure, but it sends shockwaves of something intense throughout your body and knocks the breath from your lungs.

“ooh, you’re squeezin’ me real tight,” denki comments breathily, “i want you to cum for me, got that?”

“‘m so close,” you sob, tossing your ass back onto his cock. “wanna—wanna cum on your cock!”

this is it. this is the big moment where he makes you cum twice on camera and shows all his friends who can fuck you the best. his mouth feels dry and he’s unable to say much of anything to spur you on, talk you through it.

the noisy metal bedframe squeaks louder, the mattress sliding side to side from all the movement. denki doesn’t let up, biting down on his lip so hard he draws some blood while he fucks you through the exhaustion and pain in his sides.

at last, highly anticipated euphoria courses through your bodies at the same time, and his cock begins to twitch against your cervix. a whiny moan tears from his lips as he spills deep inside you, trembling hands grabbing at your waist for purchase. the vibrator maintains its high setting, not letting up even once—in the moment, it’s amazing to ride the waves as you cum, but as you’re coming down, you begin to shudder away from it.

“hah—ah, shit,” you cry, voice pitching. denki pulls out of you, eyes widening in delight as he looks over your sloppy cunt, drooling with a mixture of your cum and his own. glossy strings of white leak from your hole, sticking to your thighs every time you jerk away from the vibrator. “i-it’s too much.”

“oh, ‘m sorry babe,” the words roll off his tongue, each syllable oozing with faux sympathy. lucky for you, denki clicks the vibrator off and tosses it somewhere in the sheets. you don’t notice him moving to lay on his stomach, too busy trying to catch your breath. “she’s looking messy down there, hm?”

denki’s breath now fans over your wet pussy, his words low and sultry. you look over your shoulder in confusion, sweat shining on your forehead, bitten lips parting to ask a question, but he interrupts.

“i can clean her up for you.”

with that final statement, denki’s tongue presses flat against your slit and he moans, tasting the evidence of what seems to be his best porno yet. he slurps up the mess eagerly, holding you in place by your hips whenever you try to squirm away.

it’s bittersweet, slick pouring down his chin and making his skin shine while his own cum colors his lips white. you can’t do anything but whimper, looking back at him through hooded eyes that well with tears of overstimulation.

“i know, i know,” he mumbles into you when your body jolts, and you suck in a sharp breath. “i jus’ want to make sure you can’t move after this.”

a thorough pussy pounding and now this? there’s no way you’ll be able to stop shaking.

nimble fingers find your swollen clit and give it a light pinch, then gently stroke over it; he thinks the reaction it elicits from you is absolutely delicious—your expression crumbles and you rock your hips back against his face, dragging your cunt all over him.

he’s drunk on your scent and taste, taking as much of you in as he can. director yaoyorozu looks pleased as she whispers something to a member of the film crew, but you don’t even notice her through the sweltering haze of arousal. denki pushes the skirt further up your body, and the resounding sob that leaves your lips has him smiling against your cunt.

against your slit, his silky tongue paints peculiar patterns that your dizzy brain manages to register as the letters of his name. “fuck, ‘m gonna c-cum, ‘s coming—” your fingers tangle in his blonde hair, yanking him into your cunt as the high hits you, toes curling and teeth chattering together.

denki’s eyes roll back as you cum on his face, but then you’re trembling and moving away when the sensitivity finally sets in. your pussy is puffy and twitching, entirely spent for the day.

“woah,” he catches you with an arm when you drop flat on the bed, shuddering with the aftershocks of it all. “you good, baby?”

his lips press into your temple and you nod, huffing as you try to catch your breath. unconsciously, you start to cuddle into him, arms wrapping shakily around his torso.

it’s hard to remember where you are, stars swirling in your vision, but the sight of the microphone a few meters away snaps you back into professional mode. god, you haven’t been this dazed since your early days at shiketsu, where you’d been booking with some of the biggest men at the studio.

“i-i wish i didn’t have to, but,” you huff quietly, slowly raising from the bed to smooth out your dress and then look for your panties. you make a big show of bending over, giving the camera a great view of your quivering, dripping cunt. you swipe the underwear from the carpet with a relieved sigh, turning to face denki, who’s nibbling at his lower lip, already hard again. “i’m not finished cleaning the house yet. maybe i can make you some lunch later, when i’m done?”

the cheeky suggestion has an unintentional effect, denki’s cheeks darkening perfectly for the scene. he nods slowly, caught in a stupor. you blow a kiss toward him, stepping through the fake doorway and off the set.

after a beat of silence, director yaoyorozu calls for a cut. she hops off her tall chair and claps excitedly, while crew members rush to strip the bed and clean up the set. on jelly-like legs, you wobble over to her, standing beside denki with a small smile.

“excellent, the two of you,” she praises, ponytail swishing as she nods. “i’ll update both of your agents once we get this to the editors. hehe, my intuition tells me this’ll do very well.”

you thank her together, before parting your separate ways toward the dressing areas—at least you try to, but denki trails behind you quietly, cheeks still blazing pink.

“kaminari, is everything alright?” you step behind the shoji screen, the makeshift dressing room. without needing to be asked, his fingers find the zipper at your back and he loosens the maid dress for you.

“denki,” he corrects you with an embarrassed laugh, leaning his body against the shoji in an attempt to come across as relaxed. “i wanted to ask you about—”

the shoji screen topples over the moment his weight rests against it, smashing to the floor with a loud bang! you shriek, gathering the dress up around your chest as your co-star rushes to pick it up before anyone can look over. he is unsuccessful, much to your chagrin.

“oh my fucking—i’m so sorry, shit.”

“what is it you wanted to ask, denki?” you ask, embarrassed. it’s like you’re back to square one again, as if you weren’t just doing the nastiest things together less than ten minutes ago. he throws a hand behind his neck, awkwardly scratching the skin as he tries to calm his nerves.

“okay, look. me and a few friends of mine—UA stars—” he adds in that bit in case you need some extra convincing, “are hosting a little get together. i’m thinking maybe you can come and hang out for a little while? i can pick you up, if you—”

“that’s very nice of you.”

the interruption makes his heart drop straight into his ass, and he immediately looks down at his bare feet. but then you speak up, and he feels a spark of hope in his chest. after all, he did promise his friends that he’d introduce you to them.

“i live nearby, i moved apartments to be closer to the studio,” you admit, fingers loosening on the dress. “what time is it? i’d be willing to meet some other stars, get acquainted with everyone.”

denki looks at you, joy written all over his face. he flashes you a bright smile, nodding as he collects his thoughts. “everything starts at eight. i can just pick you up, ‘kay? here, i’ve gotta give you my number.”

you laugh, pushing him back. “i’ve gotta change first, the dress is really itchy. we’ll work it out when i’m done, sound good?”

he steps out from behind the shoji screen after nodding, gold eyes shining. before he can walk away toward his own makeshift dressing room, you stop him, smiling in a way that makes his heart flutter in his chest.

“hey, denki? by the way, i’m really looking forward to tonight.”

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zyafics-recs · 1 day ago

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reblogging comment review from @zyafics

im STUDYINGGGG AGAIN hahaha and i decided to read ⬇️

You were pregnant.How could this happen? How the fuck could this happen?

so u see… there’s this bird and this bee…

You weren't going to cry. You couldn’t. Not because you didn’t want to, but because you physically couldn’t. Not with your makeup done so carefully. Your eyes were lined so meticulously, your foundation blended like a dream, your lips painted in that bold red everyone said you pulled off effortlessly. You couldn’t afford to let your mascara run. He wasn’t worth it.

why r u lowkey funny 😭 girly is going through it but she can’t cry bc she needs to keep her makeup intact is hilarious to me

Ruthie? That girl was giving everyone her signature snake sneer. Of course she was. The bitch had this superpower of sensing everyone's business before they even knew it themselves.

WHAT IF RUTHIE KNOWS

That would be so him, though.

oh my god

You did out without even thinking, grabbing Topper’s ear between two manicured fingers like you were his mom dragging him out of Sunday school, pulling him away.

like i said she’s FUNNNYYYY

But why did it hurt? Perhaps a small part of you wanted him to show up—just to see you, just to care. The other part, however, didn’t. You didn’t want him anywhere near you, or this… this thing inside you.

okokokok i love that she's hypocritical because all her motives makes sense and the sense of flow is so perfectly-paced it makes me wanna scream

They were trying to get you to admit you didn’t invite him. Well, they’d have to try harder. You’d been swimming around sharks since you were born, no one was going to fuck you over so easily.

Then, in the corner of your eye, you saw him.Rafe.

a GUN

You stood taller, and forced a smile, but as you started to step down from the stage, you felt it.

THIS BITCH

“Can we just—” he was practically jogging after you, his voice strained. “Can we talk like fucking adults?”

im actually shaking

He ran a hand through his buzzed hair, the same agitated motion you’d seen a thousand times as if he was trying to smooth out the mess in his head.

this motion is so him too

He wasn’t apologizing for ghosting you. He wasn’t apologizing for her.

WHAT IF SHE TOLD HIM TO APOLOGIZE

He stepped closer, looming over you now, his lips curling into that sneer. “I’m trying to give you a chance to be friends—”Give you? Like you were some charity case to him? As if you should be thankful.

i would be literally committing mass murders rn

You told him the truth and now it had become the scar he wouldn’t stop picking at. He was hurt. And he was angry, because you’d finally told him the truth about his dad, and it shattered that fake picture he had in his head.

literally get a grip

“You don’t get to talk about him like that,” he growled, stepping forward. “That’s why we broke up. Because you don’t fucking get it.”

bro idolizes his dad wayyy too much

You shook your head, “No, we broke up because you didn’t like me telling the truth. Your dad was a piece of shit, and you know it.”

i love her so much

Rafe pulled at the back of his neck again, looking like he might’ve ground his teeth to dust. “Oh, I get it now,” he says, his voice thick with condescension. “You’re jealous.”

there would be nothing but god stopping me from murdering this man

“Jealous?” you repeated, in disbelief. “Of your little pogue girlfriend? Please, fucking spare me. You want me to throw a penny at her?”

she’s so bitchy i love her

He stepped closer, his breath quickening. "She’s real, okay? She’s not some polished barbie pretending in front of everyone, just to fall apart behind closed doors."

TOPPER HAND ME A GLOCK

"Real huh?" You scoffed, the bitterness in your chest taking over. "Is that what you call it? Someone who doesn’t know the difference between caviar and fucking canned tuna? That’s the 'real' you’ve been slumming it with?"

she's actually so real

"Is that a joke? You spend so much time trying to be your father, you’ve lost yourself. Do you think I don’t see it? You’re so fucking empty without his approval,” Your voice dipped lower, “You’re so pathetic it’s almost sad."

TELL HIM GIRLY POP

He said it so casually, so carelessly, as if it hadn’t ripped you apart. It was the way he said it, with that hint of affection, like she was this delicate, shiny little thing he was protecting, and you—you—were just a threat he had to deal with.

he likes SOFIA makes me wanna scream

"I'll drag the fucking Pope into this if I have to.”

i read this as pope heyward and went LEAVE MY MAN POPE OUT OF THIS

Once again, you pondered telling her everything—about breaking down and spilling every ugly detail. But that would make it real.

i wish she DID OHMYGOD

💌 — the visceral anger i feel for rafe right now makes me wanna register for a gun. also also, their fight that cuts so deep because they know each other so well is done to PERFECTION and not only that, i LOVE LOVE LOVE how you can follow reader's train of thoughts—so even if she's hypocritical in her response, it makes perfect sense. lastly, rafe has the fucking audacity i would've slapped him so hard he would've saw his dad ok done

LOVED YOU AT YOUR WORST - r.c series - THREE

pairings: ex!sweethearts; rafe x thornton!reader; rafe x Sofia. chapter warnings: mentions of pregnancy, of abortion, health risks & death.

Two lines.

Two bold, definitive lines.

You blinked. Once, twice, but it didn’t change. It wasn’t going away.

Two lines, clear as fucking day, staring back at you like they were taunting you.

The universe was laughing right in your face. You felt everything plummet to the very bottom of the earth—the room, the floor, your stomach—it all just plummeted, like you’d been pushed off a cliff with no warning.

The test fell from your grip, clattering onto the marble countertop, but you didn’t care. You backed away from it like it was something radioactive, something dangerous that could destroy you if you got too close. But it already had, hadn’t it?

You were pregnant.How could this happen? How the fuck could this happen?

You knew how, obviously. You weren’t that dumb. All you could see in your head was Rafe’s stupid fucking face. His name alone made you want to punch something, preferably his balls.

You were pregnant? With his kid? You were so careful with your life, with your image.

You could feel the resentment rise in your throat again, the taste of acid making you want to scream. He didn’t get to do this to you. He couldn’t ruin your life twice, fuck you up this bad and then just leave. You wanted to hate him. You did hate him. You hated it. And worse, you hated yourself.

There you were, stuck with this. Alone with a baby you didn’t even want to think about. The thought of it growing inside you—of carrying some piece of him, some reminder of everything he put you through these past two months—it was loathsome. He wasn’t part of this, not anymore. And you weren’t that girl—you didn’t want to be. You weren’t the one who begged for him to care, who waited around for him to come to his senses, who made excuses.

You weren’t going to ruin all that hard work over him again. No way.

You pressed a tissue to your eyes—not to cry, but to catch the stray moisture that threatened to ruin your eyeliner—and took a deep breath. You smoothed your dress, and made sure everything was in place.

You didn’t have time to figure it out, or wallow, or throw shit around. You straightened your back, lifted your chin, and forced yourself to feel nothing.

Not the panic, not the nausea, not the rage. Nothing.

You could push it all down, shove it into that deep hellish place in your guts where you put everything else. Later, maybe you’d have to let it out.

Just as you were spiraling deeper into the pit, there was a knock on the door. Loud. It made you jump, pulling you out of your head for just a second.

“Hey!” It was Lily, her voice bright, oblivious. “It’s time. We need you out there. You’ve got like three minutes.”

Right. You wanted to laugh at how ridiculous this was.

You stepped out of the room, every movement rehearsed, the smile expertly placed on your lips. You were a master at this—faking it, pretending like nothing in the world could touch you. Not after seeing those two fucking lines.

Your heels clicked on the floor as you walked through the hallway, down the steps, and into the ballroom. It was filled with kooks being kooks. Fake smiles, fake compliments, fake friendships. You weren’t even listening to a word anyone said to you.

“Hi, darling, you look stunning as always,” someone said, leaning in to kiss you on the cheek. You smiled, said thank you, maybe even added a you too, but you couldn’t hear yourself. Your body knew exactly what to do at these things.

Pretend like you gave a shit.

“Your dad would be so proud,” another woman gushed, and you wanted to throw up. You laughed.

If he knew what was happening. Pregnant? By a man who didn’t put a ring on your finger?

And there they were, of course—Topper, Kelce and Ruthie, standing in the middle of it all, grinning like idiots. Well, Topper grinning like an idiot.

Ruthie? That girl was giving everyone her signature snake sneer. Of course she was. The bitch had this superpower of sensing everyone's business before they even knew it themselves.

A waiter passed by with a tray of champagne flutes, and you reached out instinctively, but the waiter, somehow, just missed you. The tray floated right past, and before you could even realize the fact that you didn’t have a drink in your hand, her eyes were on you.

“Oh, you're not drinking?” she asked, voice dripping with fake concern. Her eyes flickered, like she knew something, and you swear to god, your eyelid twitched.

“Not yet,” you replied with the same faux smile.

Ruthie just kept watching you with those too-knowing eyes, like she was looking for a crack, some little tell. Because she always did.

You had to be so careful around her.

One wrong move, one second, and she’d be all over it, spreading it around the entire town before you even had a chance to breathe.

Your cousin, completely oblivious, was babbling with Kelce about something—probably golf, or the new boat his dad bought, or some other thing you couldn’t care less about. You nodded along, pretending to listen, but you were mentally still in the bathroom, staring at those two lines.

“So, you invited Rafe?” Kelce said it like it was nothing, like bringing up your ex-boyfriend was the most casual thing in the world.

“What the actual fuck did you just say?” You all but growled out, enough to make him choke on his champagne.

He looked genuinely confused, as if he didn’t just mention the one person you’d rather hurl off a bridge at the moment. “Yeah, Rafe. He’s on the list, right?”

Your whole body went rigid. You blinked, trying to keep your face from giving anything away, but inside? You were dying. Ruthie’s eyebrows shot up—oh great, now you had her attention too.

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

Kelce, of course, had the nerve to chuckle.

If Rafe had spoken to them about being taken off the guest list, you’d lose it. The insolence of him mentioning your name—like he still had any right to talk about you? He should’ve buried the memory of you right along with whatever feelings he claimed to have had.

But then, if he hadn’t said a word about it to his best friends—that meant something worse. That meant he didn’t care. He was over it. Over you.

He hadn’t even bothered to tell them that he wasn’t coming to the gala because he wasn’t thinking about it. Or about you.

You hated either possibility.

Kelce like the asshole he was, "I thought you two were—"

"Don't." You cut him off so fast, so hard, he had to take a step back.

You wanted to grab Top by his clueless shoulders and demand answers. Did Rafe care? Was he coming tonight? You didn’t like any option—every scenario made you want to get on a plane to the other side of the world. If he was planning to show up despite being cut from the list…Shit, what would you even do? You could feel the headache starting already.

That would be so him, though.

The arrogance. The entitlement, ignoring boundaries because he never thought the rules applied to him.

Ruthie, of course, was still watching you like a hawk. Her eyes darted between you and Topper, and you could practically feel her mind working, trying to piece together whatever she thought she was seeing. She loved this. She lived for other people’s drama, and you knew she’d sniff out anything that didn’t look flawless.

You did out without even thinking, grabbing Topper’s ear between two manicured fingers like you were his mom dragging him out of Sunday school, pulling him away.

"Ow, Jesus—what the hell?!" he yelped, stumbling to keep up with you in his shiny loafers as you all but hauled him into the nearest corner of the ballroom, out of sight, but still within earshot of the crowd.

You didn’t care. Let someone see. Let them all see.

You turned to him, barely letting go of his ear, your nails tapping impatiently against your crossed arms. He looked at you like you’d lost your mind, and maybe you had.

“Spill it.”

He was still rubbing his ear. “What are you talking about?”

“Rafe,” you snapped, eyes narrowing. “Is he coming tonight? And don’t you dare lie to me, Top.”

He gulped. Actually gulped. You swore you could see the gears turning in that pretty, empty head of his, trying to figure out if he could weasel his way out of this.

“I— I don’t know, okay?” Topper stammered, running a hand through his hair. “I haven’t talked to him today, but I figured… I mean, he always comes to these things, so I assumed—"

That meant Rafe didn’t tell him. That your little stunt hadn’t phased him in the slightest.

“You assumed?” You leaned in closer, eyes burning holes into his skull. “After everything, you thought it was a good idea to just assume he’d show up and not even bother telling me?”

“I can’t put him on a leash!” His voice rose defensively, eyes wide like he was the one under attack. And yeah, maybe he was. Maybe you’d gone full psycho mode. Rafe always turned you into this—this furious, spiraling, out-of-control version of yourself.

Your cousin was just collateral damage.

“Maybe that’s the problem. Maybe someone should.” You said it slowly like you were explaining something to a child. “Do you even know what it’s like?” you hissed, leaning in closer, your voice dropping , “To sit here, wondering if he’s gonna show up like some ticking time bomb?”

Topper’s mouth opened, but nothing came out.

He didn’t know shit about what you were going through. How could he? He wasn’t the one with a whole life-changing secret burning a hole in his brain, wondering if the father of the child growing inside him was going to ruin everything—again.

“I—I didn’t think it was that serious,” Topper stammered, hands flying up in surrender. “I mean, he’s always been a dick, but—”

You remember the first thing he texted you after weeks of radio silence.

“No,” you interrupted, “He’s more than just a dick. He’s—” You stopped yourself before you said too much. God, you were on the edge, and you needed to rein it in.

Topper, still looking like a kicked puppy, shifted on his feet.

“Look, I’ll text him. I’ll ask if he’s coming or not, okay?” He pulled out his phone, typing something quickly. You watched him, arms crossed, tapping your foot against the marble floor like your life depended on it. If you saw his face—his stupid, beautiful, infuriating face—you didn’t know what you’d do.

Punch him? Scream? Run? The thought of him being here, so close, when you hadn’t even processed what was happening to you…

“Okay, he says—” He paused, squinting at his screen, “he’s not coming.”

The relief. You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, shoulders sagging for just a second before you caught yourself. He’s not coming.

But why did it hurt? Perhaps a small part of you wanted him to show up—just to see you, just to care. The other part, however, didn’t. You didn’t want him anywhere near you, or this... this thing inside you.

“See?” Topper said, holding up his phone like it was some peace offering. “He’s not coming. Crisis averted.” He gave you this awkward, nervous smile, like he thought you might hit him again.

You forced a laugh, even though nothing about this was funny.

“Great. Awesome. Perfect,” you said through gritted teeth simultaneously smoothing your dress, and pushing your hair back over your shoulder, “Thanks, Top. Really. You’re a real lifesaver.”

He looked at you like he wasn’t sure if you were being sarcastic or not, but you didn’t care. The moment was over. You’d survived.

You rolled your eyes as you turned away heading back toward your original group. Of course, Ruthie was still standing there her arms crossed, that smug little smirk on her face. She’d been watching the whole thing, no doubt about it.

You could feel her nosy ass dissecting every single move you made.

“He’s not here yet,” she hummed, her eyes narrowing just enough to piss you off. “Weird, right? Maybe he’s busy with Sofia.”

Of course, she brought up that fucking name.

She was sniffing out blood in the water, as if she wasn’t just another Sarah Cameron knock-off. You could already picture it—the headlines, the whispers spreading through the audience, everyone talking about you. The legacy who ruined her own gala.

Kelce snorted, not even bothering to hide his amusement, because of course he thought this was all a joke. He never got it. None of them did.

You wished, for just a second, that you weren’t born into this pristine, high-society life. You felt so smothered by these expectations. If you were anyone else, if you weren’t some debutante raised on champagne and etiquette, you’d have punched her right there. You’d have knocked her straight to the floor and wiped that pretentious smile off her face with blood in front of every stuck-up rich asshole in the room.

“I didn’t realize we were talking about her,” you said, voice like sugar, even though you knew Ruthie could sense the underlying warning in it,“But thanks, Ruthie, for always keeping me updated on things that don’t concern you.”

Her eyes narrowed, but she didn’t back down yet.

“Just making conversation. I mean, it is weird that he hasn’t shown up yet, right? Considering how close you two used to be. I’m sure it’s nothing, though.”

Kelce, that asshole, leaned in, "Come on, don't act like you’re over it." His eyes glanced down to your hand. "You’re shaking."

You were. You hadn’t even noticed.

But instead of acknowledging it, you shot him a look that could've killed. "Fuck off, Kelce."

They were trying to get you to admit you didn’t invite him. Well, they’d have to try harder. You’d been swimming around sharks since you were born, no one was going to fuck you over so easily.

“Uh-huh,” Ruthie said, not buying a word of it. Her eyes flicked between you and Topper, and you knew what she was doing. She was fishing. “You sure about that? You were giving him a look.”

You glanced at your cousin, who was still rubbing his ear like a toddler. “Just sorting out some... logistics for the gala,” you said, voice saccharine, but it felt like chewing on glass. “It’s nothing. Really.”

She arched a brow, her lips curling up in a knowing grin. She knew something was off. She always did. “Right,” she said slowly, drawing the word out like she was savoring it. “Because for a second there, it looked like you were about to explode.”

She was monitoring you so closely, you could feel it crawling up your skin.

“You know,” she sighed, like she cared. “If something’s going on you can tell me. I won’t say a word.”

That was rich. Ruthie, keeping a secret? You’d sooner trust a thief with your jewelry. “I’m sure you wouldn’t,” you said, not keeping the sarcasm out of your voice. “But trust me, there’s nothing to tell.”

Ruthie’s pursed her lips, annoyed that she hadn’t managed to dig anything up, “Are you—”

You were two seconds away from shoving her into the nearest fountain. But instead, you took a deep breath, “You should worry less about me,” you advised her, “and more about that atrocious dress you’re wearing.”

The smile fell off her face so fast, it was glorious.

You didn’t wait for her to recover. You turned on your heel, and grabbed Topper by the arm.

As soon as you were far enough away, he let out a breath he’d been holding. “Jesus, I thought you were gonna deck her.”

You grinned, but there was no warmth in it. “I still might.”

He sighed, “She’s still my girlfriend.”

“Yeah, downgrading seems like a thing for you boys.”

Like a guardian angel sent from above, Lily appeared, stepping between you two with a concerned expression.

“Hey, hey,” she interrupted, glancing between you, “What was that about?”

You could see the caution in her eyes. She wasn’t stupid—Lily knew things between you and Rafe had been rocky, and she’d probably been sensing the tension the entire night. But right now, she was doing her best to defuse the earlier situation before it got any worse.

“Nothin’, just Ruthie being herself,” You dismissed, as you grabbed onto her forearm, “Let’s go.”

Lily blinked, startled by your urgency, but she didn’t argue. “Yeah, we should head backstage, the speech is coming up.”

“Bye Top. Stay the fuck away from the chocolate fountain.”

You could hear him whine in the back, “I did that shit once!”

Lily pulled you along through the ballroom, her arm linked with yours, quickening her pace to keep up with you as you nearly bolted toward the back of the venue. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Yeah,” you bit out, though your voice didn’t even convince you. “I’m fine. I just need to get this speech over with.”

“Uh-huh,” She replied, clearly not convinced, but smart enough to drop it for now. “You got it, don’t worry.”

Finally, you made it to the side entrance that led backstage. The thick drapes and low lighting created a shield, giving you a small moment of privacy before the world demanded your attention again.

Lily stood next to you, gently touching your arm, “You don’t have to do this if you’re not ready. We can stall, or—”

“I have to,” you stopped her, rubbing a hand over your face, “I can’t—” You didn’t finish your sentence because you didn’t know how to say it. You had no choice.

Lily’s fingers squeezed your arm a little tighter. “Okay,” she said quietly, nodding. “But I’m here if you need me.”

You forced a smile, one that didn’t reach your eyes. “Thanks,” you whispered, even though the words felt hollow in your mouth.

You appreciated her being here, really, but she was blissfully unaware of the pregnancy test in the trash can.

Taking a deep breath, you adjusted your posture, straightened your dress, and ran a hand through your hair, reminding yourself that you’d been here before. You’d stood on that stage so many times.

This wasn’t new. You just had to get through it.

One more speech. One more night. You glanced at Lily, gave her a quick nod, and stepped through the final curtain. Back into the spotlight. Back into the role you’d perfected so well—put together, poised, untouchable.

The low murmur of the gathering hummed in your ears, growing louder with every second. You weren’t ready. You were never going to be ready.

You just needed to remember how to breathe.

The speech was printed and sitting in your hands, it felt like dead weight. You hadn’t even read through it since you’d finished it hours ago, and now, the thought of standing in front of all those people, pretending to have it together—it felt impossible.

Then, in the corner of your eye, you saw him.

Rafe.

He said he wasn’t coming. Topper said he wasn’t coming. But there he was, standing there, watching you just like he always had.

You hadn’t even meant to look. You didn’t do it on purpose, perhaps it was muscle memory, always searching for him. He was standing in the same spot he usually took. Like nothing had changed.

As if he hadn’t ripped you apart.

You tried to focus, but your heart was racing, thundering in your ears.

How dare he? How fucking dare he? Instantly you were back there, that messy, intoxicating space you swore you’d never return to. The one where he controlled the air you breathed. He looked so good. Too good, really. He was wearing a crisp navy suit that hugged his frame perfectly, hair buzzed again.

You should’ve guessed he’d find a way back here, even after everything.

“Are you ready?” Lily whispered beside you, her voice pulling you back from the brink of a breakdown.

“Yeah.”

Your heart raced as you forced yourself to look back at Rafe.

He wasn’t smiling. He wasn’t even pretending to look interested. He just stood there, his eyes locked on you, unreadable, unfathomable.

He was still watching you. It felt like could see through your polished exterior. He probably did. He knew you better than anyone else. You wondered what he saw—the confident girl who had always pulled off these events with ease or the terrified woman who was about to pass out from the pressure.

Then, he’s lips lifted slightly. That infuriating, devil-may-care almost there smirk that had made your heart stutter long before everything went to hell. It reminded you of nights spent tangled in sheets, whispers pressed against your skin under the cover of darkness, moments that felt like they belonged in a dream.

You wanted to throw the speech away and storm off the stage, leaving this whole night behind.

Instead, you cleared your throat and gripped the edges of the podium, the cool wood bringing you back to the world.

The words were on the paper in front of you, but you didn’t need to look at them. You knew the speech by heart every year. You’d written it yourself, after all—crafted it with care, knowing exactly what people needed to hear to make their checks bigger, to keep your father’s legacy alive.

It was just a matter of saying it without breaking.

A deep breath, and then you began.

“Good evening, everyone. Thank you so much for being here tonight.”

Your voice sounded better than what you felt, and you leaned into that, letting it carry you through the first few lines.

“We gather here every year for the same reason—to celebrate the incredible work this foundation does, and to honor the legacy of those who came before us. This foundation isn’t just a charity; it’s a tribute. A way to remember those we’ve lost and to carry their dreams forward. It’s about giving back to a community that gave so much to us.”

You paused, just for a moment, glancing down at the speech in your hands, feeling the overwhelming crush of what you’re about to say next.

“For me, this has always been personal.” Your voice softened as you continued, “Most of you are aware I lost my family a few years ago. My father started this foundation. His vision was always to make sure that no one was left behind, that we take care of our own. My mother helped build it. And my sister…” You hesitated, remembering how faultless she’d been, “She was always the heart of it.”

The room was utterly still now, everyone listening intently.

“Tonight, as I stand here, I can’t help but think about how proud they would be of what we’ve accomplished. At least, I hope they’d be proud.”

You allowed yourself a small, bittersweet smile.

“My dad would’ve been in his element, making sure everything was spotless. And my mom, well, she’d probably tell me that the curtains were horrid and needed to be replaced immediately.”

The crowd gave a light laugh, the tension in the room dissipating just a little. You smiled, a real one this time, for the first time in weeks, picturing your mother in her no-nonsense way, criticizing every decoration like it was the most important thing in the world.

“I miss them every day,” you added, “And I’m certain I’m not the only one in this room who’s experienced that kind of loss. It changes you. But it also reminds you to live in a way that makes them proud. And that’s what tonight is about, continuing their work, continuing their legacy, and making sure we do right by them.”

Your grip on the podium loosened, and you looked up, making eye contact with the audience.

“So, to everyone here tonight—thank you. Thank you for believing in this cause. Thank you for your generosity, your support, and your kindness. And thank you for helping me keep their memory alive.”

With that, you stepped back from the podium, the applause swelling around you, but all you could hear was the sound of your heart breaking.

It was over. You did it.

Automatically, your eyes flickered up toward the back corner, the spot where Rafe was standing. You never needed to look before; you’d always just known he’d be there. It was his silent promise to you since you were sixteen. Every gala, every speech—no matter what happened between the two of you—he was there.

But he wasn’t there anymore. The space was empty.

This was what you wanted, you didn’t need him anymore. You were going to get through this on your own. It was the first time he wasn’t there to catch you like he’d always been.

You stood taller, and forced a smile, but as you started to step down from the stage, you felt it.

That stupid fucking warmth.

His hand found your elbow as you and every nerve in your body screamed bloody murder. The applause was still buzzing in your ears, cameras flashing—none of it registered.

All you saw was him.

Three seconds. That was how close you were to snapping. Who the fuck let him in?

You yanked your arm away, the touch burning your skin like it was staining you. You didn’t say a word—just turned and headed straight for the back exit.

Behind you, you heard his footsteps.

Of course, he never knew when to stop, when to let you breathe.

“Can we just—” he was practically jogging after you, his voice strained. “Can we talk like fucking adults?”

You were already halfway down the hall, pulling off your earrings as you stormed toward your suite.

The fucking sheer audacity of this man. You couldn’t even process it—how he could stand there, with his fake-ass calm tone, chasing after you like you were the one being unreasonable.

You threw open the door to the suite you got ready in, the one that was supposed to be your sanctuary for the night and stepped inside, not bothering to close it behind you; you knew he was going to follow you in any way.

He was relentless like that.

You tossed the earrings onto the vanity and glanced up to see he was right behind you now, lingering in the doorway, as if unsure of how much further he could push before you exploded.

He looked at you like he was the victim in all this.

“Can you at least listen to me for a second?” It sounded like he was forcing himself to stay calm.

But that bite was so Rafe.

You spun around, your breath coming out harsh.

“Listen to you? Listen to you? You’ve got to be out of your fucking mind.”

He opened his mouth to say something, but you were already pulling off your heels, the sharp tug at the straps doing nothing to calm your frustration.

He stood there, his eyes on you, but you couldn’t even bring yourself to look at him for more than a second without feeling the betrayal flooding your chest.

Rafe was rubbing the back of his neck in that agitated way he did when he was frustrated. “I came here because I didn’t want to leave things like that. I thought we could be civil—”

“Civil?” You nearly laughed, “You seriously think you can walk in here and be civil after everything?”

His eyes narrowed just a fraction. He moved on his feet, stepping further into the room, and you saw it—the way he rolled his shoulders like he was already preparing himself for a fight. “I came to apologize.”

He ran a hand through his buzzed hair, the same agitated motion you’d seen a thousand times as if he was trying to smooth out the mess in his head.

Your hands stopped mid-motion, your necklace halfway off. You looked at him like he’d lost his mind. "Apologize for what, exactly?"

“For calling you dramatic.” He exhaled like he was doing something noble by saying it. As if he was doing you a favor. “For that text. I was drunk, didn’t mean it.”

He wasn’t apologizing for ghosting you. He wasn’t apologizing for her.

You stared at him, completely floored. He was serious, he thought this was some kind of peace offering. The fact that he thought an apology for that would fix anything? Insane.

“You think this is about that?” You cackled, chucking one shoe to the side, not caring where it landed, and the other followed right after. “Oh my god, Rafe, you are so fucking clueless.”

His expression changed then, brows furrowed, “I’m trying to make things right,” he mutters. “I don’t want you out of my life, okay?”

You threw the necklace somewhere on the ground, your patience gone. “You were the one who pushed me away. You don’t get to waltz in here and act like we can just fix things because you finally feel bad about it.”

He stepped closer, looming over you now, his lips curling into that sneer. “I’m trying to give you a chance to be friends—”

Give you? Like you were some charity case to him? As if you should be thankful.

“I don’t want to be your friend!” You growled in his face, stepping forward and jabbing your finger into his chest, “I’d rather set myself on fire than be your friend, so you can take that chance and shove it up your ass.”

His hand came up to run along his head again, and you saw the way his fingers curled into his scalp like he was trying not to give in to his impulsive thoughts. His breathing was heavier now, too, chest rising and falling quickly.

“Why are you being so difficult?” he snapped, and there it was—the familiar, accusatory edge in his voice. “After what you said about my dad—”

The reason.

The thing that broke you two this time, the thing he’d been holding over your head. You saw the hurt in his eyes, the one thing he hadn’t let go of.

“You’re gonna bring that up right now?” Your voice was so quiet it nearly scared you. “After all the shit you’ve put me through, that’s what you’re mad about?”

“You don’t get to talk about him like that,” he growled, stepping forward. “That’s why we broke up. Because you don’t fucking get it.”

But Sofia did, right?

That was fucking hilarious. She didn’t grow up listening to Ward’s bullshit. Didn’t see the kind of things he’d say or did to his oldest child.

Of course, she would take his side. She didn’t know better.

You shook your head, “No, we broke up because you didn’t like me telling the truth. Your dad was a piece of shit, and you know it.”

For a moment, the air went deadly still between you. You could sense his hurt, the way it sneaked between every bitter word.

Then, he did it—the thing you knew he would, that thing that made your blood boil.

Rafe pulled at the back of his neck again, looking like he might’ve ground his teeth to dust. “Oh, I get it now,” he says, his voice thick with condescension. “You’re jealous.”

Your whole body went borderline rigid, like a door, locked in place.

He was standing there, offering you friendship like a pity prize, calling you jealous when you were standing there broken, trying not to fall apart because of him.

“Jealous?” you repeated, in disbelief. “Of your little pogue girlfriend? Please, fucking spare me. You want me to throw a penny at her?”

He stepped closer, his breath quickening. "She’s real, okay? She’s not some polished barbie pretending in front of everyone, just to fall apart behind closed doors."

Ouch. But you could do worse.

"At least she doesn’t care about any of this," he snapped, gesturing to the glittering gala that surrounded you both. "She’s not obsessed with keeping up appearances.”

A cold laugh escaped your lips. He must’ve forgotten to look in the mirror today.

"God, you’re so delusional. Do you think I wanted any of this?” You shot him a look that could cut through steel. "I’m not the one faking it. You are. You are still so desperate for Daddy’s approval that you can’t even see what a fucking mess you are."

Rafe's hands flexed at his sides, his fingers twitching. His nostrils flared, and he tilted his head to the side, running his tongue over his teeth like he always did when he was trying to stay calm.”

"I’m not afraid of who I am," His lips barely moved as he spoke, rolling his shoulders back again, standing to his full height. "You spend so much time trying to be perfect, you don’t even know who you are anymore."

He leaned in closer, his breath hot against your skin, like a predator sizing you up, his eyes locked on yours. You could see his jaw clench, his chest rising and falling with every shallow breath as he tried to keep his composure.

You took a step closer, your chest brushing against his, your heart pounding so hard you could hear it in your ears. His gaze flicked downward, scanning your face.

He clenched his jaw again, his fingers curling into fists at his sides. He took a sharp breath through his nose, staring you down with a look that was all Rafe—volatile, unreadable, on the edge of breaking.

Right then and there, Lily burst into the room, her wide eyes taking in the scene like a bomb had just gone off.

"Okay! What is going on in here?" she demanded, her voice sharp but layered with concern. “I could hear you two in the hallway. If something happened, this is not the place to deal with it.”

“You wanna know what happened, Lily?” you started, almost laughing with disbelief. “This motherfucker started seeing someone behind my back. Two months—two fucking months—with no real closure, no answers. And he’s off fucking some pogue.”

“It’s not like that,” He scoffed, pointing a finger in your direction as he took a few steps back, "Don't drag Sofia into this.”

His posture screamed defensiveness, and all you could think was how much you hated the way he said her name. It made you want to throw up, it felt like someone was taking a rusty nail and dragging it down your spine.

"I'll drag the fucking Pope into this if I have to.”

You were the one who had been there through all his bullshit, you were the one who held him together when everything in his life was falling apart. Now, suddenly, she was the one he spoke about softly. Like she mattered.

It was insulting.

“Guys!”

Lily stepped between you both, throwing her hands up as if she were separating two wild animals about to rip each other apart.

“Please, please calm down. Rafe, I think you should leave. Now."

He looked like he wanted to say more, you knew he had a million things screaming at him beneath the surface, but for once, he stayed silent. Maybe it was the fact that Lily was there, or maybe he finally realized you weren’t going to bite into his bullshit excuses and provocations.

Whatever it was, he took a step back, shaking his head. “Unbelievable,” he muttered under his breath, storming past Lily and out of the room.

You could hear the distant sound of the door slamming as he left.

The moment he was gone, you felt your breath coming out in shallow gasps. Your heart dropped to your stomach, your pulse racing.

Lily turned to you; her face full of concern. She reached out and grabbed your shoulders gently.

“Hey,” she whispered, her voice soothing, “Breathe. Just breathe.”

You pressed a hand to your chest, your breath hitching. Pregnant. You were pregnant with his kid, and this was what you got in return.

No peace. No calm.

Your chest tightened, your vision blurring.

“Hey, hey,” She cooed again, her hands on your arms, grounding you. “You’re okay. We’re going to figure this out. Just breathe, okay?”

You couldn’t believe you’d let it get this far—couldn’t believe you were even in this situation.

There was no way you were having his kid.

Absolutely not.

You didn’t even have to think about it. The decision had been made the second he’d defended her and insulted you like you were sidewalk littering.

Tomorrow, you’d take care of it. You’d book the appointment and that would be that. Clean break, no more ties to Rafe Cameron, no more staying in that fucked up twisted cycle with him.

“I really think you need to sit down and breathe for a second. You’re scaring me sweetheart, and honestly, this isn’t good for you.”

Once again, you pondered telling her everything—about breaking down and spilling every ugly detail. But that would make it real.

Your designer dress clung to you in all the wrong ways, as if even the fabric could understand the order going changes in your body.

“Whoever let him in, I want them fired.”

You spat suddenly gaining momentary strength to ruin lives. It wasn’t just a demand; it was an execution order.

The quiet threat of it was more terrifying than your screaming would have been.

Tomorrow, you’d make sure this nightmare ended before it could begin.

TAGLIST: @maybankslover @october-baby25 @haruvalentine4321 @hopelesslydevoted2paige @rafebb @rafesbby @whytheylosttheirminds

@zyafics @astarlights @bruher @nosebeers @carrerascameron @serrendiipty @sunny1616

@yootvi @ditzyzombiesblog @psychocitylights @maibelitaaura @kiiyomei

@stoned-writer @justafangirls-blog-deactivated2

@starkeygirlposts @enjoymyloves @ijustwanttoreadlols @icaqttt

#rafe cameron #rafe cameron series #rafe cameron (by @itneverendshere)

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delusionaldeadgirl · 1 day ago

Text

Adore Me

Spencer Reid x famous singer!reader

Summary: Spencer takes his friends to see his girlfriend at her live show in DC. He didn’t realize she was going to play a specific song about him that has him blushing and his friends joking about it

a/n: This is a random draft based on Juno by Sabrina Carpenter. It’s not chronological with the other one I posted. Nice comments are appreciated lol.

Spencer sat in the dimly lit venue next to his friends. The buzz of excitement filled the air as the crowd eagerly awaited performance of famous singer Y/N—who just so happened to be his girlfriend.

As the lights went down, the audience erupted in cheers. His heart raced as he looked at his friends. They were genuinely excited, especially Penelope. She had been talking about this ever since Spencer asked them all to come.

When Y/N stepped into the spotlight, wearing a stunning outfit that sparkled in the stage light, Spencer was left speechless. Her voice flowed through the crowd, captivating the crowd, mostly filled by young women. He couldn’t help but smile watching her interact with her fans.

Then she started singing one of her newest songs, one Spencer was surprised by when it started playing. One of Y/N’s most suggestive songs, obviously about him.

“Don’t have to tell your hot ass a thing. Oh yeah you just get it.”

“Whole package, babe, I like the way you fit. God bless your dad’s genetics”

Spencer blushed. Side eyeing Derek already knowing the look on his face and the playful banter that was to come. It was obvious to the whole room what the innuendos implied.

Derek leaned over, grinning. “Your girlfriend is something else, Reid. You sure you can handle all that?” Spencer stuttered trying to form a rebuttal but he like Emily always said “And just like that, IQ 187 is slashed to 60”.

The song progressed. Getting more and more suggestive making Spencer more and more bashful.

“I know you want my touch for life.”

“If you love me right then who knows? I might let you make me Juno”

His colleagues kept looking at him, trying to suppress their laughter at his reaction. “Looks like someone’s blushing” Emily joked.

“You make me wanna make you fall in love.”

“Oh, late at night I’m thinking ‘bout you, ah”

“Wanna try out some freaky positions?”

Y/N gets down on her elbows and knees looking directly at Spencer with a suggestive smile on her face.

“Have you ever tried this one?”

Spencer immediately buried is face in his hands. His friends hooting and cheering before they turned to look at his reaction. It was both thrilling and mortifying watching his girlfriend exude such confidence on stage. Thrilling because of how talented she is, mortifying because of how his friends were looking at him right now.

The song started to slow down a little, getting to the bridge. The most direct lyrics about to be sang. He was not mentally prepared for this.

“Adore me. Hold me and explore me.”

Y/N began to slowly walk over to the side of the stage facing Spencer.

“Mark your territory.”

“Tell me I’m the only, only, only, only one”

She sang making direct eye contact with him. He was so done. The team’s genius swore he was brain dead by how entranced he was by her.

“Adore me. Hold me and explore me.”

She sang again as she got down on her knees once more. Laying on her back suggestively.

“I’m so fucking horny.”

At this point the whole audience could tell who she was performing this song for.

“Tell me I’m the only, only, only, only one”

She sang one last time before getting back on and proceeding with the rest of the show.

Not only were Spencer’s friends speechless, but for what felt like the first time ever, so was he.

When the show ended, the crowd erupted in cheers once more as Y/N bowed, her eyes searching for Spencer in the crowd. The moment she spotted him, her expression softened, and she smiled excitedly.

After the show, Spencer approached her, still flushed. "You were amazing," he managed to say, his voice slightly shaky. "Thanks, babe! Did you enjoy it?" she asked, a teasing glint in her eye. “Uh yeah” he stuttered. “Maybe a little bit too much” Derek interjected with a laugh.

Y/N laughed, stepping closer. “You know, I was thinking about that song…”

Spencer swallowed hard, antsy to figure out where this was going. “Yeah?” he asked. “Maybe we can recreate it later” she whispered, winking at him.

His heart raced at her suggestion, and he felt both flattered and flustered. "I'd like that," he replied, unable to suppress his cheeks blushing even harder.

“So how about some after show drinks?” she suggested to the group. They all erupted in cheers of agreement.

As they walked out of the venue, Derek whispered to Penelope “I didn’t think Spencer watched anything but documentaries. How does he know what Juno is?” She just laughed shrugging her shoulders.

#criminal minds #spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #mgg #spencer reid x y/n #spotify

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janeyseymour · 3 days ago

Text

I Hate You, I Love You- part 5

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3. Part 4.

Summary: Christmas Day, and then some...

WC: ~3.95k

You must end up falling asleep against the redhead again, because the next time you’re coherent of anything around you, Melissa isn’t there with you. You peel your eyes open, and she isn’t even in the room.

“What the hell?” you grumble to yourself. Your silent question of where the woman could possibly be is answered when she walks into the bedroom with two mugs filled with coffee.

“Hey,” Melissa smiles at you. Her eyes are soft and her smile is sweet. “Merry Christmas.” She makes her way to you and hands you the mug with your drink once you’ve sat up enough to drink the coffee.

“Merry Christmas,” you sigh quietly as you blow over the steaming mug. You take a sip and smile. You’re surprised she fixed your coffee perfectly to your liking. “You know how I like my coffee.”

“Well, we did go over it a few times,” the redhead chuckles as she sits on the mattress. “But I also do have a good memory, you know.”

“I know,” you smirk at her. “I just didn’t think you would-”

“Y/N.” Green eyes are rolled at you. “I’ve watched you make your coffee everyday for the past year and a half at school. Of course I know how you like it.”

You enjoy your first cup of coffee in bed with your ‘girlfriend’ before you sigh and throw the blankets off of your body. You shiver immediately. Before you know what’s happening, Melissa is pulling an old Abbott Elementary sweatshirt out of her bag and offering it to you.

“I- I can just wear my own,” you stammer out. God, why is she being so nice to you in private?

“Just put it on,” Melissa tells you. She holds it out more aggressively, and you can’t help the tired laugh that comes from your lips. You take it graciously, and your colleague just gives a victorious smirk.

“Thank you,” you mumble as you throw the hoodie over your head.

The redhead nods. “Alright, we should probably get down there. Your parents were asking if you were awake when I went down earlier for coffee.”

You groan. “But I’m comfortable.”

“And you can get comfortable on the couch while you eat the cinnamon buns your mom made.”

You’re out of bed in an instant, running for the door. Melissa can’t help the way that she laughs at your excitement. “Hun, they’ll still be down there when we get there.”

“You don’t understand!” you call back. You’re already halfway down the steps. “These things are my favorite things in the world!”

The redhead just rolls her eyes and grabs your discarded mug from the nightstand on your side of the bed before following in your direction.

When she gets downstairs, you already have a plate of the sugary breakfast pastry in front of you. It’s a considerable stack, and green eyes just look at you, clearly amused.

“Did you forget something?” Melissa holds your mug up teasingly before making her way over to the coffee pot and making you another cup. When it’s finished, she comes over, and you practically pull her to sit in your lap. She makes a small noise in surprise before she smiles softly and wraps her arm around her shoulder to help balance herself.

“Open up,” you instruct as you cut off a piece of one of the cinnamon rolls. You hold it up to her mouth and wait for her to take the bite. When she does, you hear the soft moan she lets out, and- oh shit. That just lit a fire in you that you weren’t expecting. Holy shit, that was hot.

“Your mom made that?” Melissa asks through a mouthful.

You cough lowly, trying to extinguish the flame that her moan did to you. “Uh, y-yeah. Every Christmas.”

“I can’t wait to have this every Christmas with you.” It’s a hushed whisper, so nobody else would be able to hear it, even with Aunt Jo now at the coffee maker. She says it with so much conviction you almost believe her. You’re not quite sure how to respond, so you just lean in and kiss her lips. Somehow, this kiss feels more natural than the rest of them. It’s warm and soft, filled with a sleepy morning haze despite the caffeine already rushing through your veins, and you can taste the cinnamon glaze on her lips. This kiss too, lasts longer than the other quick pecks that you’ve shared over the weekend- this is a real kiss.

When you pull away, your cheeks heat up, and you giggle slightly. Melissa just presses your foreheads together and smiles before pecking your lips again.

That’s when your Aunt Jo clears her throat as she enters the kitchen. “Girls, we’re all very happy that you’re in love, but please… not at the kitchen counter.”

The shade of red that your cheeks becomes is about the shade of your ‘girlfriend’s’ hair. “S- sorry Aunt Jo.”

She just shakes her head in good nature. “No you’re not.” She fixes her coffee quickly before giving the two of you a wink and exiting quickly.

You look to Melissa and take a deep breath, clearly getting ready to confront what is happening between the two of you- this is something different than what yesterday was. But she just gives you a look that tells you, not now. Your coworker believes that you’re going to tell her to tone it down, and selfishly, she doesn’t want to. She’s treating you the way she’s wanted to treat you for a long while now, and she’s seeing the sweet side of you that doesn’t hate her. She doesn’t want to let that go- not quite yet.

And because you find yourself enjoying this little life that the two of you have right now, you agree with a soft nod of your head. You do pick up the plate in front of you and your coffee though and jerk your head in the direction of the living room. She picks up her own coffee mug and follows you in.

While you sit on the couch, Melissa goes for the blanket that you were using last night. She knows you were cold this morning, so grabbing the blanket while she’s still standing as opposed to sitting is a good choice in her opinion. She drapes it over your lap before pulling you in close as she settles in with you.

“Merry Christmas,” you greet your parents with a smile on your face. The redhead repeats your words, to which your parents give warm smiles.

“Did the two of you sleep well?” your father asks.

You nod. “Was just kinda cold. But Lis was there to help.”

“Finally found yourself a human furnace?” your mom chuckles. “Even in sweatpants, and your-” She catches a look at the Abbott sweatshirt with dates from before you were at the school. “your girlfriend’s sweatshirt?”

“How sweet,” Aunt Jo coos. “Sharing clothes. I remember always stealing my husband’s clothes… still wear them sometimes when I need a reminder he’s still here with me.”

Melissa just dots a few kisses to your hairline before stealing the fork from your hand and feeding herself a bite of your shared breakfast.

After breakfast, your parents bring out a few presents that they got for you despite the fact that you told them repeatedly you don’t need any Christmas presents anymore. They also managed to get Melissa a few little trinkets. Green eyes sparkle with appreciation for your family. You pull out the little gifts that you purchased for your parents and your Aunt Jo; they take them gratefully. And then they look to you and your coworker with expectant looks.

“We decided to do presents tomorrow,” Melissa explains the reason you don’t have gifts for each other.

The three older adults nod, and your dad has a smirk. “Don’t wanna get caught opening something ridiculous in front of us?”

You just put your head in your hands at what your father has just insinuated.

“Al!” your mother smacks his arm.

Christmas Day passes by in a blissful haze full of warm drinks, soft kisses, blankets piled high, and “A Christmas Story” on repeat. You allow yourself to fully relax in the presence of Melissa for the first time. It doesn’t feel like it’s for show- her kisses are longer, they’re sweeter, you feel like you crave them. If her arm isn’t around you or her hand isn’t somewhere on your body, you feel cold. But the second she’s back with you, you feel like you’re on top of the world. None of this feels like an act to you anymore, as much as you know it is. Because the second you leave your parents’ house and leave this fake life that you’ve created behind, Melissa Schemmenti will be back to the hard ass teacher that you love to hate.

After a day that passes by quickly, you and Melissa find yourself retiring to your bedroom for the night. And you that as much as you don’t want to let go of this, it’s all a fantasy- it isn’t real. At the core of you, you hate the redhead that you’ve spent the weekend with.

“Lis,” you sigh. “We need to-”

“Not tonight,” your grade level partner stops you from saying anymore. “Please.”

“You don’t even know what I’m going to say,” you counter.

She quirks her lips to one side. “I do. Can we please just… not tonight?”

You take pity on her and relent. “Okay.”

She gives you a grateful look, and then she’s crawling into bed. You climb in next to her, and you attempt to keep your distance despite the fact that you want nothing more than to curl into her hold and allow her to keep you safe in her arms for this last night.

Your dreams are quite similar to the ones you had the previous night, and you heart tells you unconsciously what you truly want in life. You want Melissa. You want all of the warmth that came with this weekend. You want to be the one who allows the rough and tough second grade teacher to let down her walls and show you a side of her very few people get to see- you want a life with her.

When you blink your eyes open, it’s four in the morning- at least that’s what the clock on the nightstand says. It takes you a few seconds to recognize the fact that both you and Melissa curled into each other while you were asleep. Once again, your two bodies have interlaced, and it’s hard to decipher where your figure ends and hers begins.

You press a soft kiss to her head, allowing yourself to stay in this sleepy stupor until your brain catches up to your body. But then it does and you slowly, as to make sure that she stays asleep, you untangle yourself from the redhead. You slip out of the bed and make your way over to the chair that faces the window. You lower yourself into it and take a deep breath before you begin to silently hash out your feelings.

You absolutely adore this sweet and warm side of Melissa that she’s shown you. You believe that even the side of her that is so hard and difficult to read wouldn’t even frustrate you as much as it used to because you feel like it’s a front at this point in your relationship with your colleague. To you, it seems as though her exterior protects the sweet side of her. Perhaps she’s been burned before, or maybe she was taught to keep that inside of her to protect herself.

Regardless, Melissa Schemmenti is not nearly as tough as she plays, and you feel honored to know that she has a soft side, even if it was for show. But then your mind wanders to the fact that she did and said a few things to you in privacy, or so quietly in front of your family that you doubt they could hear her- she allowed her true colors to slip through the cracks.

You don’t notice that tears begin to trail down your face- you’re in love with this woman. But she hates you- she absolutely detests you and everything that you are, at least that’s what you think. So, despite it being the last thing that you want to do, you make the decision that you will go back to hating the redhead as soon as you are out of this house. You’ve always hated her. It’s what’s expected of you at this point. It’s what you have to do. You have to forget about the last two days full of warmth and kindness and what you’ve come to realize morphed into a real love for the redhead. And it breaks you heart to the point that you feel a physical ache in your chest.

In all of your heartache, you also don’t notice the way that Melissa blinks her eyes open. She doesn’t see you laying next to her, and she assumes that you’ve just gotten up to go to the bathroom. But then she hears your quiet sniffles from where you’re sitting a few feet away, facing the window and looking up at the moon. Silently, the redhead makes her way over to you sighs softly.

You jump just slightly once you’re made aware of the fact that your coworker is awake and standing with you. You don’t even turn- just wipe away the tears on your cheeks. Melissa’s soft hands are on your shoulders, and she can feel how tense you are. She quietly begins to attempt to work out some of the tension that you’re holding.

“You want to tell me what’s got you up and cryin’ at 4:30 in the mornin?” You feel a kiss being brushed against your hairline- once, twice, and then a third time.

You allow her to, somewhat melting at her touch. But then you can’t quite hold it in anymore, and you burst out of your seat. The redhead jumps at your sudden movement, but she allows you to get up. You rush your way over to your bag and pull out the three hundred dollars that you know you owe her.

“Take it,” you huff as you hold out the bills aggressively. “Take it, and then we can go back to hating each other like we always do.”

Melissa frowns and shakes her head. “I’m not taking your money, Y/N.”

“What?” you ask her incredulously. “What the hell do you mean you’re not taking it?” You throw the cash at her.

She squats down and picks it up with a few grunts. She holds it out for you to take, but you refuse. “I won’t take your money because I don’t want it.”

“You? Not wanting money? That’s rich. Isn’t that why you did this? Came to my parents’ house with me for Christmas- for the money?” you hiss out. “You hate me, I hate you, and this is all just an elaborate lie for me to get my parents off my-”

“You’re so fucking stupid,” Melissa mutters as she folds her arms over her chest. “So fucking stupid.”

“I’m stupid? I’m stupid?” you ask her. “I’m not the one who agreed to come to a woman’s parents’ house when I hate her!”

“Have you ever considered the fact that maybe I don’t hate you?” the redhead asks you. “That I actually like you and enjoyed being here with you?”

You scoff. “You’ve always hated me- always hated new coworkers! We’ve never liked-” Your cut off because Melissa pulls you in for a kiss and stops your tirade. You’re frozen in your place for a few seconds before you kiss her back. Her hand finds its way to your cheek, and she cups it gently, a complete opposite of the way that she’s passionately kissing you. She pulls you closer by the waist with her other hand.

When air becomes a necessity, you pull away with eyes as wide as saucers. “Wha-?”

“I don’t hate you,” Melissa whispers. “I mean… I wanted to. But the things that I told your family yesterday about me fallin’ for you? That wasn’t a lie- not in the slightest.”

“What?”

Green eyes are soft as she looks into your own. “I never hated you, hun.”

“What?” you repeat.

“I wanted to,” she chuckles that soft warm laugh as her arms wrap around your waist and pull you in close. “I wanted to hate you more than I hated Janine at first- because I knew you were stunningly gorgeous, and if I at least hated your personality, you would be easier to avoid and not fall for.”

“You-”

“But then you hated me and weren’t afraid of me- wasn’t afraid to show it either,” Melissa chuckles. “And I liked that. Most newbies are terrified of me, but you weren’t. You had a fire in ya, and I liked that. So, to keep your attention, I pretended to hate you. The only way to get your attention was to be snarky and sarcastic- I’d rather have you hate me than not have you talk to me.”

“You’re-”

“Besides, it’s fucking hot when you’re all riled up and angry,” the redhead shrugs. “But I think I like the soft side of you more.”

“I- I-” you stammer out. “I thought you hated me this whole time….” you whisper, and then you lean over and kiss her again. “That’s why I hated you.”

“Like I said, I wanted to,” Melissa chuckles. “But I never did. You’re good at the job, the kids love you, the rest of the staff likes you. And you’re beautiful. What’s not to like?”

“So… you really never hated me this whole time?”

She shakes her head. “Nah. I like givin’ you a hard time though, don’t get me wrong. But it was kinda my way of flirting after a while.”

“You’re an idiot,” you laugh as you kiss her again.

“So are you,” she mutters against your lips.

You pull away again, and you smile as you press your foreheads together. “So…”

“If it wasn’t clear to you already, none of this weekend was acting for me,” the redhead tells you softly. “This is how I’ve wanted to be with you since you started.”

“I-” you hesitate. “How am I supposed to know it wasn’t acting though? I mean… I was dreading this weekend, and I- I fell for the sweet Melissa I got to see for the past few days, but if that’s not who I’m really going to-”

“Y/N,” your colleague sighs. She takes you gently by the hand and leads you back to the bed. The two of you lay down, and she holds you close. “I’m always goin’ t’be a South Philly girl, but I do have a heart and soul- wouldn’t be a teacher otherwise. I- I can’t promise that I’ll ever stop bein’ a sarcastic asshole, but I do have my moments of tenderness. That wasn’t acting. I’ve wanted to hold you and kiss you and stop having to pretend to hate you for some time now. I’ve loved this weekend- your family is something special, and I can see where you get all your spunk and sweetness from. I like it. I like you- love you, even.”

You bite your bottom lip and look at her in the darkness. “I- I like you too. And I think… I think there might be something between us that’s real.”

“I think so too,” Melissa mumbles against your head. “You wanna give it a shot? A real shot- me an’ you?”

A smile appears on your face. “I think I’d like that.”

Christmas the next year is a fun one. After beginning to officially date, you and Melissa fell head over heels in love with each other. This year, the two of you make your way up to your parents’ house as an actual couple, and not just as a fake couple. You’re fairly certain your parents are more excited to see Melissa than they are to see you; Aunt Jo too.

“Oh, it’s so good to see you again!” your mother pulls the redhead into a tight hug. Your girlfriend hugs back with the same fervor, although she does roll her eyes.

“I saw you last week, Nora,” Melissa quips. “But it’s good to see you too.”

“Came back for more?” your dad chuckles as he too hugs your colleague.

She nods. “I wouldn’t want to spend our first year as a couple anywhere else.”

Your eyes widen. You had never told your parents that last year was not real. “Second,” you quickly amend.

But Aunt Jo is too fast to catch on. “No, no. She said first.”

The two of you share a quick glance, and your lips form into a tight line before you sigh. “So… I have something to confess.”

Years later, you’re officially Mrs. Schemmenti. You have a beautiful little girl, Sara. She’s just turned two, and she couldn’t be more of a light in your life. But you’ve also finally gotten her settled in bed and asleep. You and your wife are laying on the couch together as you usually do after a long day of teaching and then coming home to handle your own little tornado of a child (you often tell the redhead that that part of your little girl comes from her entirely).

You’re admiring your engagement and wedding rings before you look to Melissa’s. You don’t get to look at hers for long though, because you hear your baby crying from just up the stairway, and you sigh.

The redhead just buries a kiss in your hair before promising that if Sara doesn’t settle, she’ll go up. And the crying doesn’t stop, so you feel yourself being shimmied off of Melissa five minutes later before she heads up the stairs. A few moments later, she returns with your baby girl in her arms.

“Oh honey,” you instinctively reach for your daughter.

“Baby girl just wanted Momma,” Melissa rolls her eyes playfully as she hands over the little one. “Never Ma, always Momma. Ain’t that right, Sara?”

Your daughter just gives a toothy grin as she lays her head on your shoulder.

Where you would normally lean into the couch cushions to attempt to soothe your little girl to sleep, you sit up straight, and your brows furrow.

“What’s wrong, mi amore?” your wife asks in concern. This is so unlike you.

You shake your head and smile. “I just got this… this feeling of deja vu. Like I’ve lived this moment before.”

“Maybe you dreamt it,” the redhead offers as she cozies up to you on the couch and begins to run her fingers through your little girl’s wispy hair.

You think for a few moments before you know why you know this moment. “I- I had a dream about this moment that first Christmas we spent together… it was this moment.”

“You mean the Christmas we pretended to be together?”

You nod. “I- wow. I should’ve known then and there that I was going to fall in love with you.”

“And instead, you denied your feelings like an idiota,” Your wife laughs before she presses a kiss to your head.

“You were an idiot too,” you fire out, but the glimmer in your eyes tells her that you have no ill-intention with those words.

She shrugs. “Hey, I still got the girl, didn’t I?"

You roll your eyes as you purse your lips for her to kiss you. Of course, she does. "I guess you did."

And just like that... this sweet little fic is over. I hope you enjoyed!

Xoxo -Janey

TAGS: @schemmentis @thesapphictimelady @marvel210 @itisdoctortoyousir @morgana-larkin @doesthatsuggestanythingtoyou @marvels--slut @sweetcheeksschemmenti @megamultifandomtrashposts @lemz378 @http-sam @melissaschemmentisbranzino @imaginesmultifandoms @sexysapphicshopowner @lilfartbox1 @maybe-a-humanbean @imlike-so-gaydude @a-queen-and-her-throne @notinmyvocab @melanielaufeyson @dvrkhcld @cosmichymns @sasheemo @m1lflov3rrr @ricejucie @temilyrights @emilynissangtr @squinnchy @dopenightmaretyphoon @emeraldoceansstuff @shinyfaerielights @blkmxrvel @marvelwomenrule @sarahjohannson @casualfoxwitch

#melissa schemmenti fanfic #abbott elementary #abbott elementary fanfiction #abbott elementary fanfic #melissa schemmenti #melissa schemmenti x reader #melissa schemmenti x you #melissa schemmenti fanfiction

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nocasdatsgay · 2 days ago

Text

A Lesson in Heartbreak

2 of 3: Words are Painful Weapons

Rating: T | Word Count: 3983 | Pairing: Azris/Reader

Summary: Eris and Azriel made promises they didn’t keep. When you confront them about it, Eris says some things he instantly regrets. Now him and Azriel have to fix what they broke.

Neapolitan Bonds Masterlist| Read on A03| Part 1| Read Below

Warnings: Angst, Eris has a sharp tongue, alcohol, drunk!Eris

A/N: HI so… yeah… I am alive. Sorry this took so long. A second shout out to @daycourtofficial for inspiration with Azriel and his comments when he comes back.

Tagging: @myromanempiree @pit-and-the-pen @lilah-asteria @thisblogisaboutabook @hieragalbatorixdottir @mybestfriendmademe @paleidiot @div94 (if you are tagged by accident or want to be tagged in the future, let me know)

“There. A letter to Tarquin and a letter to her.” Eris sent them with a flick of his wrist.

Azriel calmed enough to sit while Eris penned the letters. They needed you to come home so they could talk with you in person. Deep down, Eris was thoroughly embarrassed over the whole situation. Not only at himself but for you leaving to another court. He wondered if this was how Tamlin felt all those years ago, when Feyre ran off to the Night Court. Eris suddenly had empathy for him in retrospect.

He slumped back in his chair and sighed. He needed a stiff drink. But he wanted to be sober if you came home. Azriel sat across from him, arms crossed against his chest and brows furrowed like he did when he was deep in thought. His eyes were still rimmed in red from earlier. The Shadows were nowhere in sight.

“What?” Eris looked at his mate.

Az cut his eyes to Eris, still frowning. “I want you to tell me exactly what you said to her.”

“I’m surprised your shadows didn’t already tell you.” Eris didn’t hold back his eye roll or his sigh. “I don’t fully remember.”

Everything was a blur from earlier. When he got like that, he never remembered what he said.

“Well think fucking harder.” Eris could see Azriel’s fingers dig into his sleeves.

“She came in screaming at me about missing dinner.” It reminded him too much of his mother. The way she would yell at his father when he was a youngling. Eris tried to focus, to put that aside. “I told her the high lord meeting was more important. We were hosting, and.”

After a moment Az said, “And what, Eris”

He cursed under his breath. “I said she would understand that if she had bothered to help. Since she isn’t helping, she doesn't get to complain that we are busy. She knew what she was getting into when we mated.”

Azriel recoiled where he sat. “How could you say that to her?”

“It’s the truth, Azriel.” Eris brushed back his hair with his hand. “This is what it’s like to be mated to a High Lord. We have responsibilities. Yes, I was wrong for implying she didn’t want to help because she asked and I told her she didn’t have to. I admit that.”

Shadows came out as Az replied. “And we made promises we didn’t keep.”

“I know I did. It eats me alive that I broke them but what else am I supposed to do? It’s our first time hosting, I’ve only been High Lord for a decade and a half. She’s worked for multiple courts. She knows these things have to be perfect or others will talk.”

“That doesn’t mean we can’t take a break to have dinner with her.” Az countered.

Eris glared at him. “Do not act like you are any better. You weren’t there either.”

He winced. “You’re right. I wasn’t.” Then he glared back. “But maybe I would have been there if you let other people do their job instead of making it our problem.”

“Oh you’re going to blame me?” Eris was on his feet. “By the gods. I’m always your scapegoat because it’s easy to blame me than for you to look in a fucking mirror.”

“Eris.” A warning, as shadows built around him.

“Am I wrong?” Azriel didn’t answer. Eris and his sharp tongue kept going. “You blamed me for centuries when it came to Mor. To this court. To my father. Let’s just add this to it.” He paused. Before he could stop himself he added. “It wouldn’t even be a fucking issue if it was just us.”

Eris felt the shock through the bond from Az before he shut him out. Even the shadows recoiled from around Az.

“What are you saying?”

“I don’t have to repeat myself. We work well together,” he gestured between them, “because we know what to expect from each other. She wants so much more than either of us are capable of.”

Shadows shrunk back again. “That’s not true.”

“It is!” Then words spewed from his mouth like viper venom. “I wish Elain never told us. I wish I never let you get your fucking hopes up, looking for a third bond in every fucking fae you brought to our bed. But I love you, so I let you do it.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?” Azriel was on his own feet, siphons on his hands flashing. “I always got your consent, you said it was fine. You brought your own-”

Eris’s mouth ran away from him again. He didn’t raise his voice; his tone did the work for him.

“Maybe I lied. I only took other lovers so you wouldn’t feel guilty. I was just trying to make you happy because I was never enough for you. Even the Mother herself knew. She knew I wasn’t enough for you so she sent us her.”

Az looked like he’d been struck. Guilt and insecurity Eris had buried for decades laid out on full display. At that moment Eris hoped Azriel hurt just as much as he did. The silence between them was heavy and loud. It was finally Azriel who spoke, his own words sharp and stinging.

“I never asked to be mated to you. You say this is easier for me and you, but it’s only easy for you. What’s easy is loving her. It’s not my fault you’re too fucked up to know that too.”

Shadows grew thick around him and he winnowed out of the room.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

You showered and changed into a soft seafoam colored nightgown, given to you by Samira. She was sitting by a small side table reading when you came back into the bedroom. She set her book down and got up from her seat.

“Did you tell him, Tarquin?” You asked.

In your haste to get away, you didn’t think about the implications of your actions. Namely as High Lord’s mate seeking refuge in another court. You liked Tarquin a lot. He was kind and you were so happy when Samira and him hit it off. But he was still a High Lord of another court. Samira didn’t look you in the eyes from where she had sat on the edge of the bed.

“I only told him what you told me.”

“That’s fine,” you said quickly. You got onto the bed and crawled up beside her. “I understand. If you hadn’t told him, I would have.”

“That said,” she put her hand over yours. “You’re here as my guest. Any correspondence will come directly to me unless there is a threat to the court.”

You winced and she gave you a sympathetic look. Your mates were both known for their tempers. Azriel was well known for his impulsive behavior. You prayed to the Mother that neither of them acted irrationally. A hard thing to hope knowing you sealed this room the moment you entered.

“Did you want some tea or do you want to rest for the night?”

“Tea. I need to talk if you’re willing to listen.”

“Always,” she smiled.

You grabbed a light robe and moved into the small sitting room. She waited as Samira had tea brought to the room. She fixed you a cup, and then she sat down and took her own in her hands.

“So what happened?”

You let out a heavy sigh, trying to figure out where to start.

You explained the best you could. How they both made a promise to go to dinner and neither showed. You explained how distant they’d been for months. You explained how Eris told you that dinner wasn’t as important as whatever he was working on with the upcoming summit.

“He said I knew what I was getting into when we mated. As if I’m not managing his court while his nose is stuck in itinerary lists.” You added bitterly.

She winced. “And Azriel? What did he say about all this?”

“He said he was sorry. He lost track of time. Conveniently he was silent when I asked why his shadows didn’t remind him.” You stared down at the tea in your hand. You could feel your eyes water again. “He hasn’t- he has always been more physically affectionate than Eris. Out in public, at least. But he hasn’t even-“

You stopped yourself, your face burning. Samira didn’t need to know how Az hadn’t even called you by a specific pet name in weeks. Eris even longer. And how was you supposed to explain they even stopped just casually touching you? It was childish, to be upset about something so silly. Yet thinking about it just made you cry again.

You wiped your eyes. “It just feels as if they don’t want me anymore.”

“They're your mates, of course they want you.”

“Mates doesn’t always mean love, Samira. They did just fine without me for what? Two decades? Maybe longer. Maybe they miss it just being the two of them.”

“Now you’re talking nonsense. Stop it,” she gave you a pointed look.

“What if it’s the truth?” You were so sick of crying. You sniffled and wiped your eyes. “They know each other so well. What do they need me for?”

They didn’t.

That was your whole issue. They didn’t need you. Eris and Az could practically communicate without words. They moved around each other seamlessly. Eris knew exactly how Az liked his tea. Az knew to move papers closer to the inside of the desk when Eris was on a rant, his hands moving about as he talked. Eris knew when to make the spare room without even asking Azriel if he needed it. You tried to watch, to listen. Five years and you still weren’t in tune with them.

Samira shuffled in her seat, drawing your attention back to her.

“Eris wrote a letter to Tarquin. I got it while you were bathing. It wasn’t much, just him requesting to know if you were here and if so, that you get this.” She held up an envelope with his seal on it. “I wrote back that I would handle communication and you’d be staying the night.”

She laid the letter on the table in front of you. Your chest ached, begging you to open it immediately. You shoved it down.

Samira added, “I informed him that if you want to stay longer, I can’t make you leave. Tarquin has already agreed to allow you to stay as long as you need.”

“Thank you,” you whispered and stared back down at your tea again.

“Sleep on it. You can have breakfast with us and decide what you want to do in the morning.”

You nodded. Sleep sounded nice now that the adrenaline of the evening had crashed. You drained the rest of your tea and bid Samira good night. You left the letter on the table. You’d read it in the morning.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Eris poured himself the stiffest drink he’d had in decades. The shame and embarrassment of everything was still burning in his chest. He downed his drink in one swing and poured another. Both his mates were gone. He walked over to his desk where the correspondence with summer sat. Your friend had written back instead of Tarquin. He downed his second drink.

To make things less complicated, I will be handling correspondence until this is resolved. Unless there is a threat to the court, I will not involve the high lord. I promise I will give her your letter in the morning. She was distraught when she arrived and I’ve just gotten her calmed. She’s currently bathing and I will get her some tea to help her sleep.

There was a break in the letter and she added.

She has yet to tell me what happened fully, but as her friend I am warning you both that you two better make this right. I will try to convince her to return in the morning, but she is a grown female. If she requests to stay, Tarquin has already told me she may.

Eris tossed the letter back onto the desk. He doubted once you found out Az left too that you’d come home. It’s what he deserved.

He was a fool to think he could do this- have two mates. To think he could be any better than his father. Three years mated to you and he still couldn’t control himself. Couldn’t toe the line between work and leisure. Fifteen mated to Az and he still spewed venom in his direction the moment he was cornered. And Eris finally got a taste of his own medicine when Azriel spewed it right back.

With a heavy sigh, Eris pulled out more parchment and ink. There would not be a high lord summit- not with all of this happening. He’d draft the letters and send them in the morning. If he could sleep at all, with no one sharing his bed. He went and made a third drink. He opened his bonds and see if you or Az would respond.

Still shut out. The urge to down that third drink was strong. He needed to be sober in the morning even if he didn’t want to be.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Azriel flew until his emotions settled. Eris’s foul words rung in his ears still. ‘I wish Elain never told us’ he’d said. ‘Even the mother herself knew I wasn’t enough for you so she sent her.’

His eyes watered and it wasn’t from the wind in them. There was an ache in his chest- both bonds were shut out. He and Eris fought plenty, before and after they reconciled and the bond snapped. Somehow this was still the worst. He ignored his own words that spewed like venom in response to what Eris had said.

Azriel was angry and hurt. He left- if he stayed any longer the whole Forest House may have been burned to the ground. He circled the border between Autumn and Winter. He couldn't go back, not tonight. He landed in a clearing, stretching out his wings before tucking them back in. He didn’t want to go to Valeris. He had one other option. His shadows seemed to agree, as they circled him and he winnowed.

He landed outside the wards of Rosehall. The fae lights shown through the window.

She is awake. a shadow whispered.

He thought about turning back. He didn’t want to disturb his mother, to bother her with his problems. Yet his feet carried him forward, the wards rippling around him. He tucked his wings in tight and walked to the door. He didn‘t have to knock; the wards were designed to let only few in and to notify her when someone arrived. He could hear the rush of footsteps inside and braced himself as the door opened.

“Azriel?” His mother answered the door, a navy shawl you made for her wrapped tight around her shoulders, sides shaped to accommodate her wings. “What has happened?”

”I had a fight with my mates.” He said quickly. “They’re fine; I just- I couldn’t stay.”

His mother brushed back loose hair to tuck it behind her ear. He realized her hair was half braided. She nodded, and stepped aside to let him in.

“I’m sorry, I can go.”

”Nonsense, come in. I just made tea.”

His shadows swirled past him, one or two weaving around his mother. They always loved her; probably more than him if he was honest. He stepped through the frame and looked around. He had visited two weeks ago and already things had changed. His heart skipped, looking into the sitting room. Feyre had taken to decorating his mother’s house with portraits and paintings. The one above the fireplace was of him and his mother. It was a new one on the wall to the left that wasn’t there two weeks ago that made him stop in his tracks. It was of his mother, himself, you, and Eris. From your mating ceremony, based on the clothing and how close together you all were.

“The High Lady spoils me,” his mother said from his right. “Says my house is too empty. You should see the garden painting she had mounted in the hall a few days ago. Come.”

He felt her hand grab his own. He could only grip back loosely. He didn’t realize how cold his fingers had gotten from flying. If she noticed, she didn’t say. She led him to the kitchen where a kettle sat on the stove. He sat at the small table and watched almost numbly while she gathered cups and poured the tea.

“Zemër, tell me what happened.”

Az looked down at the cup as she sat it in front of him. He wrapped his hands around it, letting the warmth ease the stiffness in his hands. If he was home, Eris would do it for him. He pushed that thought away. He took a few sips, relishing in how the warmth flowed through his chest. His mother waited patiently across from him, braiding the rest of her hair for bed.

“I said some things I shouldn’t have.” His shadows nudged him on the shoulder. “I made a promise and didn’t keep it.” She hummed and tied off her hair. His voice cracked a little when he added. “I don’t know if I can fix it.”

There was a beat of silence and his mother took a sip of her tea. “Why do you think such a thing?”

“Because she left!” He snapped. His mother flinched and shadows hissed at him for raising his voice. “I’m sorry. She left and he- we’ve been so busy and she asked for one dinner and neither of us went. Then she left. And Eris said things. So I said things back.”

He hated that hot tears fell down his cheeks. And that his mother was looking at him with pity. She reached over and took his hand, holding it tightly in her own.

“Words are painful weapons and you are the best warrior in all prythian.” That made Azriel snort and she smiled softly. “This is a fight. Not a war. You haven’t lost yet. They are your mates. You love them. If you haven’t given up your love for them, what makes you think they have so easily given up their love for you?”

She had him there. He gave her hand a squeeze, a gesture of thanks. Then a shadow swirled up his arm quickly.

We must go. He furrowed his brows. He walks to our balcony. We must stop him. We must go. Go.

“Shit.” Azriel winced at himself. He hated cursing in front of his mother. “Mama, I have to go. Thank you. For the tea.”

She watched him stand, not letting go of his hand. “Be careful, my love.”

Despite the tugging of the shadows he gave his mother a kiss on the forehead. “I’ll see you in two weeks. I promise.”

She nodded and he winnowed away.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

At some point, Eris wasn’t sure when; he grabbed the whole bottle instead of pouring himself a glass. He couldn’t sleep. Not alone, with his thoughts and past memories hovering around the edges of the bed. They we’re waiting in the dark to grip him when he was most vulnerable. So instead he drank. Drank to numb the emptiness like he used to in the days before.

One minute he was in his chambers and the next he was stumbling up stairs. There were several balconies in the forest house but there was only one nearest to the roof. He built it for Azriel. It had no railings, just a place for him to take off when he went flying. Az swore he didn’t need it; but he still used it. In Eris’s mind, Az would use the balcony when he came back home.

Because he had to come home. You both had to come home. Eris didn’t think he could bear it if you didn’t. It took him a moment when he reached the door to focus enough to grab the handle. Gods, he hadn’t been this drunk since his youth. Pushing into the room, it was bare- save the single old couch, rug, and unlit fireplace. His gaze fixated on the double glass doors that led to the balcony. If he could just get out there, he could wait.

“Where do you think you’re going?”

Eris nearly fell over, balance upended by Az’s voice behind him. He grabbed Eris by his shirt to pull him steady. Shadows that had been absent swirled in his vision, grazing his hair and neck as if checking him over. It took a moment for the world to stop spinning and his focus fixated on the male before him.

“You came back,” Eris whispered.

“Of course I did.” Azriel’s nose crinkled at Eris’ breath. “You're drunk.”

“Can’t sleep.” He felt his eyes water. He reached for Azriel’s shoulder but Az held him in place. “I’m sorry. I'm so sorry.”

“Look at me,” Az’s hands were cold as they cradled Eris’ face, forcing him to look him in the eyes. “I’m sorry too.”

“Your hands are cold.” He muttered, his own reaching up to cover them. He wasn’t sober enough to focus his magic like he wanted to.

“They are.” Az gave him a soft smile. “I’ll live.”

Eris frowned. “Why did you come back?”

To Azriel’s credit, he didn’t seem shocked at the question.

“I came back because I love you.” And Azriel meant it.

“But you said-“

“I said it’s not easy.” He paused for a moment. “It’s not easy but I choose you. I will always choose you. Because I love you.”

There was silence between them for a moment.

“She’s not coming back.”

Az grimaced. “Eris, it’s late. She’s safe in Summer and probably sleeping. Like we both should be.”

“But I need her here.” Eris could hardly bear it. He needed you back. He needed to apologize. “Can’t we go get her?”

“So you want to start a war with Summer?” Az’s face was serious but there was a tilt in his voice.

“You’re laughing at me.” Eris replied solemnly.

“You’re drunk. It’s hard not to.” He sighed, his wings slumping and shadows buzzing about them. “Let’s go to bed and sleep this off.”

Eris was silent but seemed to concede. Az guided him out the room and back to their chambers. He would have winnowed if Eris hadn’t been so inebriated. He really didn’t feel like cleaning up vomit.

“You’re too good to me,” Eris muttered as they made their way down the hall.

Az tightened his arm around him. “I could argue the same.”

More silence passed. “Do you think she’ll come back?”

Azriel didn’t reply. He could only hope. His shadows whispered as much as he helped Eris undress in their chamber and get him to bed.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~

In Summer, you tossed and turned. The air was too warm even with the cool magical breeze that floated through the open windows. The bed was too small. Too empty. You finally cast a spell on your blanket and pillows, making them colder. How funny you’d gotten used to Autumn's colder climate.

The spell worked too well. You were suddenly too cold, too cold without Eris and Az’s body heat to keep you warm. Tears fell on your pillow. They were probably sleeping fine without you. Your mind went to the letter you left in the other room. You were too afraid to open it. They probably only wanted you home until after the High Lords’ meeting. Or maybe they never wanted you to come back. You pulled the blanket tight around yourself. Whatever the letter said could wait until morning.

You sighed and tried to go to sleep.

Part 3

#neapolitan bonds #eris vanserra #acotar #azriel #azriel/eris/reader #reader x Azris #part 2 #a lesson in heartbreak

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brown-bi-beautiful · 14 hours ago

Text

BABY BOY

College au

Pairing: nerd! Jungkook x fuckgirl! reader

MINORS DNI

Genre: strangers to lovers? smut, fluff, a little angst

Words: 21.4k

Summary : You are bored with all of the boys on your campus and now you want the new toy except...the new toy doesn't want you

Warnings: Jungkook hates reader at the beginning 😭😭😭, Jungkook is an asshole to her, reader and her friends are low-key mean girls, reader and her friends objectify Jungkook a lot (red flag right there), reader is kind of the s word, casual slutshaming, angst (but it's like very tolerable), SMUT [MASTURBATION (Male, ORAL REC. (Both male and female), Fingering, JUNGKOOK'S DICK NEEDS A WARNING BY ITSELF (spoiler alert: ITS BIG AND OC's OBSESSED), Protected sex (be responsible kids)], FLUFFFFFF.

A/n: OMG.... It has been a while. Honestly work was so hard this past year and on top of everything i went through a very bad break up due to which I wasn't really in the mood of writing anymore ( Also why I kinda half assed it a little, Im very sorry). But now that we are back again I really hope you enjoy it guys. It was initially going to be 30 k words but due to the above mentioned things I could only reach 21 k but I still hope I won't disappoint you guys. Anyways, happy reading.

*******

'Why did you agree to this?' you asked yourself once again as you stared at the boy sitting opposite you, nervously stumbling over his words. You looked at him with a bored expression.

Let’s make one thing clear: you have a policy of not dating. The only reason you agreed to this date was simple—who would turn down free food, right? Plus, the boy was somewhat easy on the eyes. However, after listening to him struggle to tell a story for the last half-hour, you were instantly reminded why you avoid dates altogether: they can be incredibly boring.

'Oh God, fucking and dumping is so much easier than enduring this.' You don’t even understand how they get the impression that you're looking for anything more than just sex. From the start, you’ve always been clear about your intentions—letting them know that you're only interested in a physical relationship with no strings attached. At first, they all agree, but eventually, they start pushing for more, asking for just one date, as if that would change your mind.

"Could you at least pretend to look interested?" he snaps suddenly, his irritation showing at your impolite demeanor.

"Well, I'm not."

"Then why did you say yes to this?"

"Because you were practically begging me to, and I was just feeling a bit hungry, dude," you retorted, leaning back in the chair and crossing your arms. "Look, if it makes you feel any better, it’s not you, okay? I just don’t do dates... What was your name again?"

"How could you not remember my name? We had sex this morning!" He looked hurt, but it's not your fault, you were drunk last night when you met him at the frat party.

"And did you hear me say your name once?" you asked with a raised eyebrow .

"You're a bitch." He exclaimed, getting up to rush out of the cafe.

"At least pay for the pancakes!" you called after him but he ignored you and ran away. 'What a little bitch.' You sighed throwing some bills on the table and got up to leave as well.

Let’s make one more thing clear: you loved sex. It was ironic, really, considering you were a virgin when you first started college. But after getting your heart broken by your boyfriend during the second semester, you realized the only good thing that came out of relationships with men was sex.

You have sworn off dating but that didn't mean you were going to give up on having sex too. If guys could do it without any judgment, you saw no reason why you couldn't as well. As a result, you gained a reputation as the infamous "fuckgirl" of your college.

*******

"So? I heard your recent boy toy has been telling everyone that you suck at giving head." Jimin, your best friend of 3 years said. Jimin was the only guy you have stayed friends with after having sex. Sex with Jimin was good, so good that you guys became fuck buddies for a few months in fourth sem. However you had to stop having sex when he started seeing a girl regularly and then you didn't go back even after they broke up, You both decided that you liked your dynamic better as best friends.

"As if I would let that dick anywhere near my mouth." You roll your eyes, taking a seat next to him at the far end of the classroom. It was frustrating to see guys act like this after facing rejection. "Honestly, who cares? Everyone knows that's not true." you remarked, dismissing the behavior with a hint of exasperation.

"I don't know, you were kinda awful."

"Hey, I take offence. I was the best sex you've ever had and you're a lucky bastard to even get a taste of this." You said pointing at your own body.

"I'm kidding. He's probably just salty that he wasn't the one to change you for the better and be your awakening."

After several minutes of silence, with only the voice of Mr. Aitken filling the air, you returned to the previous subject. "I don't get it, I mean what part of 'I only want to have sex' is so hard to understand?"

"I don't know, bro. You should do what I do, leave before they wake up and block them from every social media platform."

"Oh what a great person."

"Says the one that has fucked almost half the college?"

You gasped at his sudden dig and slapped his arm. "You're a bigger slut than I am, bitch. Anyways, I'm done with college boys."

"Really?"

"Yeah, they're so immature. I just want someone who would understand the depth of casual sex."

"You sure you're not only saying that because you've now slept with all the boys in our campus?"

"Shut up. My body count is still very modest. And I'm serious, I'm not sleeping with anymore college boys."

"As if on cue, Mr. Aitken's lecture was interrupted by the creaking sound of the large lecture hall door swinging open. In walked a boy with fluffy hair and clothes that seemed too big for him, drawing everyone's attention."

"I'm so sorry for interrupting you. Is this Ancient Mesopotamia with Mr. Fergus Aitken?" the boy asked in a voice so low that, if it hadn't been so silent in the class, you wouldn't have been able to hear it.

"Yes, it is. Now hurry up and take your seat; you're wasting my time," the old man grumbled, prompting the boy to rush and nervously find a place to sit. You observed him with curiosity as he settled into the only available seat, which happened to be in the third row, directly in front of you.

From the little you could see of his face, you certainly liked what you saw. He seemed younger than you, or maybe it was his clothing style and demeanor that gave off that impression. There was an aura of innocence and cuteness about him that caught your attention. If it weren't for the classroom setting, you would have already approached him.

While you had no reservations sleeping with any attractive man, Jimin always insisted that you have a type. He believed you had a soft spot for spoiling cute and innocent boys. Boys who seemed inexperienced in the field, boys you could teach, boys who looked like they've never seen pussy in their life, boys like him.

Your best friend seemed to have caught on to the expression on your face, and with a knowing smirk, he nudged you playfully.

"I thought you said you were done with college boys."

"That was before I knew someone this cute goes here. Who the hell is he?" you asked, genuinely curious about the boy who had just walked in.

"Why do you think I know everyone in this college?"

"Because you're a gossip girl."

"You don't complain when I give you the gossips."

"I'm sorry, is my lecture interrupting your conversation, Mr. Park, Ms. __?" a thickly accented voice interjected, breaking your conversation with Jimin. You glanced up and noticed that all eyes, including those of the new boy, were on you. This time, you got a full view of his face, and you were taken aback by his beauty. His big doe eyes gazed back at you, his lips set in a natural pout, and his fluffy hair, partially restrained by a black bandana, almost concealed his stunning features. To call him merely pretty would be disrespectful; he was absolutely gorgeous.

"No, sir. I was actually just clearing her doubt about King Shu-Sin." Jimin said and you nodded along.

"Well, that's unfortunate, given that topic ended last week and we're on Assyrian civilization." You fought the chuckle that almost escaped you as Jimin's face reddened in embarrassment.

"You see, I know that, but-"

"If you want to talk, just get out of my class." Mr. Aitken's stern words snapped you back to reality as he resumed his lecture. Despite the urge to leave, you knew you couldn't afford to miss any more classes, given that your attendance was already lagging behind. Moreover, there was the intrigue of the new boy who had captured your interest recently. So, you stayed put, trying to focus on the lecture, though your mind kept drifting back to the presence of the boy in front of you.

After what felt like an eternity, but was only an excruciating 40 minutes, the lecture finally came to an end. Without waiting for Jimin, you promptly stood up from your seat, excited that you finally had the opportunity to approach the boy. Your eyes scanned the room for your new object of interest. Among the sea of students, his fluffy head was not too difficult to spot as he made his way toward the exit. However, navigating through the crowd of more than 200 students, all eager to leave Mr. Aitken's apparently popular class, proved to be quite challenging and frustrating.

"Shit!" You exclaimed when you finally got out of the class but couldn't get a sight of him. 'How is he so fast?'

"You know you should start paying me for this." Came the voice of your friend from beside you as he held out your bag which you had left behind in a rush.

"Bet you've said that before."

********

"Guess who has a new crush!" Jimin exclaimed the moment both of you stepped into the café where you and your friends usually hung out. And by hung out, you meant practically lived.

"Shut up, it's not a crush," you defended yourself, settling down on the couch and playfully nudging your friend with your butt to make some space for yourself.

"Sure. It's not a crush." Jimin mocked.

"Wait, I wanna know. Who is it?" Riley exclaimed excitedly, leaving her boyfriend Hobi's lap to move closer to you, eager to hear all the details.

"It's not a crush or anything. Jimin loves to overreact. It's just this guy I noticed in class today. It was his first time with Mr. Aitken; otherwise, I think I would have noticed him before. He's just really cute, that's all."

"Wait cute as in 'charming-flirty cute' or cute as in 'you could spread him on a toast and eat' cute." Jennie chipped in on your conversation.

"Knowing her, I bet it's the latter." Said Hoseok.

"I'm not answering that." You said as the waitress, Robin, came with your usual coffee order and you thanked her with a smile.

Amidst the conversation, you couldn't help but notice that Jay, one of your friends, had been unusually quiet the whole time. Before you could ask him what happened, he got up to leave.

"I'm gonna go smoke some weed. You wanna come?" Jay asked you, and you declined with a shake of your head. As soon as he was out of earshot, your other friends burst into laughter, amused by the situation.

"Oh he wishes you'd cum."

"Guys please. He'll get over it." You defended the guy even though you were quite sure he wouldn't get over it soon.

"He better, it's getting pathetic." Said Riley.

Jay had been harboring a crush on you for over a year now. He had asked you out twice in the past month, but you turned him down, saying you don't fuck with friends.

As you engaged in another conversation, you heard the bell on the front door ring, but you didn't pay much attention to it initially—at least not until Jimin burst out with wide eyes.

"That's him, that's him. That's her new crush!" All of you turned around to see the boy standing at the café entrance, looking around with his wide doe eyes as if he were looking for someone.

You were never one to get enchanted by someone very easily. It hadn't happened even once since you got to college—at least, not until this boy. There was something about him that captivated you effortlessly.

It definitely wasn't love at first sight, though. Your experiences had taught you that you were somewhat incapable of feeling love in the traditional sense. You just couldn't. But would you admit that you were attracted to him? Yes, you were undeniably and very much attracted to him.

"Oh he's a cutie."

"Him?" You turned around at Jennie's words as she shook her head.

"You know him?" You asked.

"No I don't know him. I know of him." You felt like you've hit a jackpot. Not you'd know at least something about him when you approach him. "You can't fuck him. You know Namjoon's friend Jeon Wonwoo?"

"If by 'know' you mean 'slept with'? Then yes."

"That's Jeon Jungkook, his brother."

"No way. What?"

"Yeah, and Wonwoo hates you so much. I'm pretty sure his brother hasn't heard good things about you."

"But maybe he doesn't know her," Jimin said "Maybe Wonwoo hasn't told him about her. I mean who likes to brag about getting dumped?"

"Yeah, I'm with Jennie here," Riley said and you raised an eyebrow, "Not because he's Wonwoo's brother or something but because, look at him. He looks like you'd break him."

"No, I won't. Why do you guys always act like I'm some man-eating witch?" you retorted, feeling defensive and exasperated at your friends' judgmental reactions.

"Babe, you know that's not what she means. You know guys like him can never handle a woman who's comfortable in her sexuality." Riley nodded along at Jennie's words.

"You never know. For all we know he could be like...a freak in the sheets."

"Really? Him?" You followed Hosoek's gaze to see the boy in question sitting on a barstool and sipping on pink Boba tea. His lips made a small pout around the head of the straw.

"He's cuuute." Riley cooed.

"And you have a boyfriend." Hobi reminded her and she pecked his lips in assurance.

"You know what? Go for it," said Jennie with a smile. "Fuck Wonwoo, in fact I'll ask Namjoon some details about him." You squealed and kissed Jennie on the cheek with a big smacking sound.

******

It seemed like you were experiencing the Baader-Meinhof phenomenon, because lately, Jungkook had been popping up everywhere—in your classes, at the café, and anywhere you hung out on campus. It had been over a week since you first noticed him, but you were yet to approach him. It wasn't that you were nervous or anything, no, far from it; you were just looking for a good opportunity to pounce.

He always rushed out of classes as if he had to attend to surgery or something, or he was always with his two guy friends, who looked like they'd have a seizure if they came in contact with a woman. It's not that you were nervous about asking him out in front of his friends; you just weren't sure if he wanted to be asked out in front of them.

Through Jennie (read: Namjoon), you managed to gather some information about Jungkook. He was a third-year student, majoring in chemistry, and 22 years old—he was a year younger than you and all your friends.

Right now you were fooling around with one of the boys in class at another one of your hookup spots. It was just meant to be a quick exchange of weed when Dongmin suggested you should make out since you were already in the sacred spot and you were like why not.

You and Dongmin have been hooking up for quite some time now. While you don't usually sleep with a man twice, Dongmin was quite good at what he does.

You don't realize when his hand slipped into your panties but you certainly weren't complaining.

As you were in the middle of your intense make-out sesh, a loud thud disturbed your encounter, leaving you irritated and eager to shoo away whoever had intruded. When you turned around to address the interruption, your voice caught in your throat and all the irritation left your body when you found yourself face to face with the familiar pair of wide, doe eyes.

It was none other than Jeon Jungkook, the same boy you've been trying to get alone with for the past week but had no luck. The same boy you've been lusting over just saw you with another man, his hand down your panties.

"I'm- I'm sorry... I got lost- I'll just... Leave." Jungkook hurriedly picked up his books from the ground and rushed to get out of there.

Before you knew it, you were pushing away the guy in front of you and without any explanation to him you rushed after Jungkook.

"Hey, wait," you called after him and he froze on the spot. When you finally approached him, you gave him a sweet smile.

"I-I-said I'm sorry."

"Oh no, it's ok. You just said you're lost?" Jungkook looked at you in confusion. Did you actually just leave your make out session to ask him that?

"Umm... yeah, I recently started having classes in this sector, and I was... looking for Abnormal Psych with Mr. Hastings."

"I know where that class is, come I'll walk you."

"It's not necessary," Jungkook said, looking at the ground to avoid making eye contact.

"I insist. By the way I'm," you offered him your hand which he looked at hesitantly for a few seconds but didn't shake. You were a little hurt but didn't show it in your face "And you are?"

"Jeon Jungkook." His voice was lower than expected.

"Cute name. Come on Jeon Jungkook, I'll take you to your psych class." You offered once again and started walking without waiting for his answer.

Jungkook had half a mind to escape from the situation and hide. For all he knew, you could be luring him somewhere for your friends to bully him. Here's the thing: Jungkook couldn’t be bothered enough to indulge in college drama, but he also wasn’t living under a rock to not know who you were. To say that you were infamous around the whole campus would be an understatement.

He had heard many things about you and your little group of friends—from his brother, his friends, and even strangers—and none of it was good. If so many people had the same negative opinion about you, he couldn't help but believe that there might be some truth to it.

Jungkook could never comprehend why people still engaged with you if you were such an awful person with such an unpleasant personality. Why did they give you all the attention you so clearly wanted? Why not just ignore you and go on their merry way?

When he first saw you, though, he understood why. You were drop-dead gorgeous, and you carried yourself like you knew it. With just a look at you, he could tell that you were a bad influence, and he promised himself never to associate with you or any of your friends. He believed that being drawn into your circle would only lead to trouble.

"I think I've seen you somewhere." Jungkook thought, of course you don't remember him even after crossing paths several times. He doesn't think of himself as a memorable face anyway. "Wait, do we have any classes together?"

"A couple."

"Oh, right! You're in Mr. Aitken's Mesopotamian history class, aren't you?" Jungkook simply nodded in response. You took the opportunity to prolong the conversation, purposely opting for the longer route to the psychology building.

"Yes." He mumbled, not saying a single word more than he needs to answer you.

"Hey by the way I have psych too, but its with Mrs. Fields." You said, happy to find another common ground with him. "Is psych your major?"

"No. It's Chemistry."

You attempted to lighten the atmosphere with a playful comment, saying, "You definitely look like someone who'd take chemistry." But instead of taking it lightly, Jungkook seemed a bit offended by your remark.

"What does that mean?"

"You know, you look smart," you complimented, unaware that he was misinterpreting everything. All Jungkook heard was the possible hidden meaning behind your words. You were definitely calling him a nerd. And even if you were right, you had no right to say that.

You had no idea what to make of Jungkook's expression. It was the first time you'd miserably failed at flirting with a guy. Usually, by this point in the conversation, they'd be eating out of your hand, but Jungkook looked unaffected by your charms. He was looking anywhere but at you, avoiding eye contact at all costs.

"Are you always this quiet?" You asked.

"I only talk to my friends." His answer was short and simple.

You finally reached in front of Mr. Hastings class and you suddenly felt a pang in your heart that your time was up with him.

"Here, it's your class."

Seeing the lecture hall door labeled 'GC24' and noticing the same numbers on the slip, Jungkook felt a sense of relief wash over him. He silently thanked his luck, relieved that you hadn't taken him somewhere with ill intentions to bully him, as he had initially thought.

"Thanks," Jungkook mumbled as he reached for the door handle, preparing to enter the lecture hall. Before he could step inside, your hand on his arm halted him. Your touch surprised him, and he turned to look at you with curiosity, unsure of what you might say or do next.

"Do you want to get coffee sometime?" You asked, looking up at him with a smile.

Jungkook panicked at your question. You wanted to have coffee with him? You wanted to have coffee with him? But why? Probably so that your little posse of friends can make fun of him.

"No thanks." Jungkook's rejection caught you off guard, and it was an unfamiliar feeling to be on the receiving end of such a response. Doubts crept into your mind as you wondered if he had misunderstood you or if there had been some miscommunication between you two.

"No, I'm asking you out on a date."

"I- I know," He said, "I don't want to."

Feeling beyond shock the only thing that left your mouth was "Why?"

"I don't date girls like you." And with that he quickly went inside the lecture room leaving a very shocked you outside.

*******

"Maybe he's gay," Jimin suggests passing you the rolled joint and you took it gladly. "And by 'girls like you' he meant girls in general."

"No, no, I'm pretty sure he meant girls like me. I'm sure, that idiot brother of his has said something about me." You said passing back the joint. "And now he thinks I'm a slut or something."

"I mean, where's the lie?" You could tell that Jay was pretty high right now, he only settles to throw mean comments at you when he's high. It was his own way of releasing his frustration and you never mind him.

"Shut up, Jay, before I kick you in the teeth." Jimin threatened him in your defense and you don't doubt that he would actually do it if needed.

"Babe, you have never cared what people think about you, why start now?" Jennie said as she lied down on the grass.

"I don't know, I still don't care what other people think but-"

"You know what? He was completely out of line to say that to you." Riley said and you shook your head.

"I guess if roles were reversed I wouldn't go out with me either. I don't really have the reputation of Mother Teresa on this campus."

"So what you gonna do now?"

"I say move on and fuck our TA Mark, he's like, crazy hot."

"I think I know what I'm gonna do."

*******

"The only reason I agreed to take psych was because we were taking it together. Now you want to switch to that old cranky man?" Jimin complained as you sat in the office to fill the forms to change classes.

"You are welcome to not join me."

"If you think that I can endure a lecture without you, then you're wrong."

"I know." You giggled kissing his cheek.

"Hmm 'reason', I wonder what I should write," Jimin mocked as he stared at the form and then you, "'My crazy best friend is obsessing over a nerd who clearly doesn't give two fucks about her'."

"Your crazy best friend wouldn't mind telling your hookups that you once had gonorrhea."

"I told you that in confidence." As the two of you continued to bicker you heard someone clear their throat and instantly looked up to see a woman in her late 40s, you've seen countless times but don't recall the name of.

"If you are done with the forms, you can give them to me,"

"Just a moment," you said with a smile as you proceeded to fill out the rest of the form. She shook her head as she looked you up and down, probably appalled by your scantily covered body in a lilac bralette that exposed the better part of your chest and midriff, and a white skirt so short that if you bent over, your ass could be seen. She took a few seconds to judge you and eventually returned to her desk.

"Did you sleep with her?" You asked in a hushed tone.

"What?! No, she's like... ancient."

Once you submitted the forms to Mrs.—shit, you forgot her name again—you made your way to the history building. It was almost time for Mr. Aitken's class. Although you typically wouldn't attend any class two days in a row, your newfound motivation had recently changed your mindset.

"Can we skip it today? Let's just go, smoke some weed, I got really good stuff from Taehyung."

"No, we are very behind on attendance."

"What are you talking about, we can still skip three more classes."

"No, Jimin."

"Is this about Jungkook again?" He sighed after reading your expression. "What is up with you? You've never put this much effort into fucking a guy."

"I know. He's just, interesting. And I want to put effort."

Upon entering the crowded lecture hall, almost every seat was occupied, and only a few vacant spots remained. While Jimin searched for a place to sit, your attention was captured by one person only—Jeon Jungkook—who was currently engrossed in scribbling something in his notebook. He was wearing glasses today, and it made him even more adorable than usual. All you wanted to do was drag him away from the class and kiss him.

As you heard your name being called, you turned to find a group of boys gathered around an empty seat, all of them gesturing toward it, signaling that the seat was available for you.

"Sit here, the view's perfect from here." You rolled your eyes and ignored them, walking up to the only boy you're interested in right now.

"In your dreams, Jared." You heard one of the boys say.

When you reached your destination, the entire class fell into silence, their eyes wide and curious as they watched you stand in front of Jungkook in the front row. But it seemed that Jeon Jungkook was completely absorbed in whatever he was scribbling in his notebook, paying no attention to you or the situation.

"Hey," when Jungkook lift his head to see who was talking to him his eyes widened. He was definitely not expecting to have a encounter with you two days in a row.

When you had asked Jungkook out (and he had said no), he believed that you did it merely as a joke, intending to mock him in front of your friends. What else would make someone like you ask someone like him out? You surely don't have any shortage of people falling at your feet, so that had to be the only reason why you asked him out, right?

When Jungkook rejected you, he was sure that would be the last of your encounters. He planned to make sure he never crossed your path again, which is why he deliberately sat in the front row today, knowing you and your friend always occupied the seats at the back.

Since yesterday, Jungkook couldn’t get you out of his mind. He despised you; he despised people like you—people who seemed to believe they had the authority to toy with others simply because of their popularity. On top of that, the negative things he had heard about you from his brother only added to the bad image you already had. According to everyone, you were the meanest girl in the whole college, and he just wished he could put you in your place.

He hated the way you smiled at him right now, so innocent, as if you weren’t the person people said you were. He believed your smile was fake, a mere façade to conceal your true intentions. Your ego must have been wounded by getting rejected by him of all people, and now you probably wanted revenge or something.

Undeterred by Jungkook's lack of response to your greeting, you pressed on and asked, "Is this seat taken?" You pointed to the seat beside him, even though it was clearly occupied by another girl, who looked alarmed by your question.

"Is it, sweetie?" Your next question wasn't to him but the girl, who just looked panicked and taken aback that you're even talking to her.

"N-No… You can sit here, __." The girl stammered nervously, quickly giving up her seat for you.

'Who do you think you are?' Jungkook wanted to snap at you very badly but looking at all your fans around the hall who were already glaring daggers at him, he stops himself.

"Thanks," you smiled sweetly at the girl and proceeded to sit in the seat. "Scooch," you told Jungkook, and he did so without saying anything. You then patted the seat on your other side, prompting your friend to come forward and take that seat, though not without rolling his eyes first.

As soon as you sat beside him, he caught a whiff of your scent. It was a very fruity smell, a mix of grapefruit and fresh oranges. You smelled rich, and it suited your personality very well.

Jungkook thanked the whole universe when Mr. Aitken finally walked in and started his lecture. Now he’d just have to get through this one hour somehow, by ignoring your presence. Jungkook thought you wouldn’t try to mess with him during the class, but boy, was he wrong.

"So? What happened yesterday? Why'd you run away?" You leaned closer to him and asked in a hushed tone. He tried to ignore you and moved closer to the boy next to him.

"Are you ignoring me, Jungkook?"

"Please, let me focus on the lecture." He says before noting down something in his notebook.

"Oh, look at you. You take notes, such a good boy." You giggled, and if it had been anyone else, Jungkook would admit that sound was incredibly cute. But on you, it was nothing but annoying. Once again, you were mocking him for being a nerd. "So? Did you have time to think about it? You wanna go out for coffee?" You asked, batting your eyelashes at him, but it seemed to have no effect on him.

"No. Now please let me study."

"You have pretty hands," you remarked, tracing circles on the back of his palm. But Jungkook chose to ignore your comment once again. "If you don't want to get coffee, we can go to the movies or something, or do whatever you like."

"What do you want from me?" He asked, clearly annoyed by your behavior.

"I want to get to know you." Your words made him snap his head to look at you. The way you smiled at him seemed genuine, like you actually meant what you just said. Once again, Jungkook couldn't help but notice your beauty. Your lips were a shade of pink, glossy, and looked very plump. Your eyes were big and innocent, as if you hadn't broken all of those hearts. Before he could silently compliment more of your features, he suddenly remembered what Wonwoo had said to him.

"She is the meanest girl in this college, Guk. You don't want to associate with the likes of her. She and her friends bully people to have fun."

"I don't want to do anything."

"Why?"

"I just don't."

For a second, you looked truly hurt by Jungkook, and he realized he didn’t like that look on your face for some reason.

"If you don't want to go on a date, we can just hang out here on campus," you suggested again. This time, instead of saying anything, Jungkook just sat there silently.

You didn’t look away, though. Your eyes were fixed on him with that pretty little smile on your face, and Jungkook started feeling self-conscious under your gaze.

Do you look at everyone like this? Like you're looking at him right now? Like you're scrutinizing every minute detail of his face?

"Did anyone ever tell you that you're very pretty?" Jungkook's whole body heated up as he heard your compliment, unable to control the blush that spread across his face. "Are your glasses prescribed?"

The remainder of the class passed with Jungkook doing his best to avoid your presence, while you continued shamelessly staring at him from the front row. He wondered why the professor hadn't called you out on your behavior yet. Maybe this whole college was biased toward popular kids.

As soon as the hour was up and the bell rang, Jungkook was the first to swiftly get up, eager to make his escape. The intensity of your gaze was becoming overwhelming, and he felt as though he might burst into flames if he stayed any longer. Your presence was growing more intense with every passing second.

When you saw Jungkook hastily gather his belongings and rush out of the hall without even sparing another glance at you, you grabbed your bag, which you hadn’t even bothered to open yet, and ran after him, ignoring the calls of your name behind you from Jimin. This time, thankfully, you didn’t lose him in the crowd.

When you caught up to him, Jungkook was a little surprised to see you, not expecting you to follow him even after class.

"Wha-what are you doing?"

"We're hanging out."

"I never said yes to that."

"You never said no either." You said following him. "Why are you so scared of me, Jungkook?" You sound honestly curious about the question.

"I'm-I'm not scared."

"Then do you talk to everyone like that?" Ignoring your comment, Jungkook continued walking in a familiar direction.

"Where are we going?"

"Central Library." Jungkook doesn't know why he keeps answering you, it's like the words fall out before he can stop himself.

"Why? We just had a class," you whined a little. "Let's go to that gazebo behind the literature department." Jungkook doesn't have to know that it was a popular spot for people to make out. But it seemed that your suggestion fell on deaf ears, as you found yourself following Jungkook into the library without getting any response from him.

"I want to study for the next class."

As Jungkook walked alongside you, he couldn't help but notice all the attention the two of you were receiving on your way to the library. It made him wonder if you were equally affected by the curious stares, or if you had grown so accustomed to such attention that it didn’t faze you anymore.

Not wanting to be in the spotlight any longer, Jungkook led himself—and involuntarily, you—to seats in a less conspicuous area, hidden from the prying eyes of most people. Luckily, the seats there were unoccupied, with only two girls sitting at the table across from you, seemingly oblivious to your presence.

"Do you spend all of your free time in the library?" You questioned as you settled on the seat beside him, a little too close for his liking. Your body was halfway turned toward him, and his eyes couldn't help it travel a little further south from your face. Jungkook thought that you had to know what you were doing; there was no way it was unintentional.

Deciding to ignore your presence altogether, Jungkook took out his earphones and plugged them in his mobile, resuming the playlist he was listening to the night before. And apparently you took it as an invitation to take one of the earplugs and put it in your own ear.

When you started humming to the music and singing somewhat broken lyrics to 'wasted years' along with Bruce Dickinson, it left Jungkook quiet stunned.

"You-you listen to heavy metal?" Jungkook asked with a raised eyebrow and you once again give him that smile of yours that seemed very dangerous.

"Sometimes, mostly Iron Maiden. Why? Can't I?"

"No-no, it's just, you- you don't seem like someone who'd... listen to heavy metal."

"Yeah? Then what do I seem like?" Your question caught him off guard and his eyes travelled to your lips. Still sitting too close to him, Jungkook could almost feel the warmth emitting from your body and it left him feeling a little strange, he couldn't decide if the feeling was the good or the bad kind.

You on the other hand almost did a victory dance in your head when you noticed his eyes lingering on your lips a little longer. You didn't make any further moves, knowing he might get uncomfortable and that's the last thing you want.

"I don't kn-know."

You heard the quiet sigh he let out in relief when your phone started buzzing in your hand, alerting you of text messages. Silently cussing at whoever it was, you turned on your phone to see the SMS.

Dooly 🐣 : Where the fuck did you go you rat?

Dooly 🐣 : You always do this bitch. And I always wait for you after class 🤡 🤡

You : I'm so sorry Chimmy. I'm with Jungkook.

Dooly 🐣 : You're with Jungkook 🥵?

You : Lol no. I wish tho 🤤🤤

You : we're just hangin in the Library 🙃.

Dooly 🐣: did your phone autocorrect sucking dick for 'hangin in the library' ? 🥴

You : stawppp bitch. We ain't doing anything. Just hangin.

Dooly : You ditched me to just hang in the library? Not cool 🙅🏻. Hope he never gives you dick.

You : Don't say that 🥹. I'm sorry.

Dooly 🐣: Whatever, dude. I'm smoking the good weed all by myself 😏😏

You : Don't say that 🥺🥺.... I'll make it up to you. Do you want a nude?

You didn't get a reply after that, so you reverted your attention to Jungkook who was already engrossed in his laptop. A smile automatically found its way to your lips when you saw how his brows furrow in concentration and his lips were already making a small pout.

You decided not to disturb him and settled for admiring him silently.

*******

'Baby, you want more?' Your voice was nothing but a sweet melody as you whispered in Jungkook's ear. Your hips are moving in a circular motion. Your cunt bare and wet as it rubbed against his cock.

All he could do in response was moan a loud 'yes' . Jungkook felt like he was in heaven. Your tits were bare and glistening with sweat as they bounced in his face. He could just reach out and suckle on them but he couldn't for some reason.

'Come on, baby boy. Touch me.' You demanded. Your voice was lower and you were moaning. 'Touch me, Jungkook. I'm all yours.' The way you said his name made him want to cum all over you. Paint you all white.

'I can't.' Jungkook said in frustration. No matter how hard he tried he couldn't reach out to grab those beautiful mounds of flesh. At that moment he wanted nothing more than to touch you, kiss you, please you.

'It's ok, baby boy. I can do all the work.' The second your wet pussy sank down on his hard as rock-penis was the second Jungkook lost it all. He moaned out your name like chants. Your hands tugged on his hair as you jumped up and down on his cock. Your head rolled back, revealing your beautiful neck which he just wanted to take a bite out of.

'I'm cumming, that's it, baby boy. You're about to make me cum.'

Jungkook immediately jolted awake. He was panting and his breath was irregular. What the hell did he just see in his dream?

He threw the covers off of him when he realized he was sweating excessively. His whole body was on fire and his mind couldn't comprehend the dream. He took a moment to realize that he just dreamt of you riding him. Not only were you riding him but he was making you cum as well.

Was it because you were the only thing that he had thought about the whole evening? It wasn't his fault that all he could think about was you. You were the one following him around the whole day in that little outfit that did nothing to cover your body.

Jungkook's cock was achingly hard. It was throbbing. When he looked down he could see it practically poking its way out of his sweatpants.

He has never felt this turned on before, not even when he watches his favorite genre of porn. Not even when Vivian Sue, his first girlfriend touched him down there for the first time when he was 16. But just a dream of you had him practically heaving.

He laid still for a few seconds, waiting for the boner to go down because there was no way he was going to give in to you so easily, he can't let you affect him like that. He has to fight his boner.

'Let's think of something disgusting.' Jungkook thinks to himself, 'Mingyu's feet. Yugyeom's sweaty hands. Dead dogs. Uncooked chicken. Your tits, your tits, your tits.'

Jungkook let out a groan in frustration. Fuck why was it so hard.

"Fuck it." Jungkook mumbles under his breath before taking out his throbbing cock from the restraint of his sweatpants. A soft involuntary moan left his mouth when his hands came into contact with the angry tip of his cock. He sighed in relief.

His hands slowly started rubbing his cock up and down. Thumb spreading the precum to make it easier for his fist to slide of the member.

He should think about something else, you're a person and it's unfair to masturbate to you. Specially when he has no sexual relationship with you. It was just wrong but he couldn't think of something else.

The image of your tits bouncing was still fresh in his head. The way your plump lips spread wide open to moan out his name, calling him 'baby boy'. The way you arched your back in pleasure as you rode him, your shiny pussy lips gliding up and down his cock. The images were all too clear in his head and once again you were all he could think of.

Your name left his mouth as moans and he thanked god his flat-mate was not home tonight to hear him through the thin walls. He was moaning your name pretty loudly and there was no way Caleb wouldn't hear it if he was home.

Soon enough Jungkook was pumping his cock in a rapid speed. All to the thoughts of you doing vile things in his head. He couldn't help but think if you would actually feel as good as you did in his dreams. If your pussy was actually so tight that it would suck his cock in.

When Jungkook finally came down from his high he could see white, literally and figuratively. He felt lightheaded. He had never cum so much, so fast. His seeds were all over his sheets and some on his own stomach.

He felt guilty. Disgusted in himself. Jungkook can't believe he did that to you. Specially when he promised himself and his brother that he would never let himself get attracted to you.

He hoped to god not to run in to you the next day, because there was no way he could face you now after what he just did.

*******

"How dare you not tell us, Guk?" It was Mingyu's voice behind Jungkook that stopped him from walking any further into the campus.

He turned around and looked at his best friends in confusion. They didn't look angry or upset, they just looked shocked.

He racked his brain while they walked up to him but couldn't find a reason as to why they would react like this.

"What are you guys talking about?"

"You were ASKED OUT by THE __ ___. Are you KIDDING ME?" Yugyeom partially yelled on his face and before Jungkook could answer they bombarded him with a series of questions.

"Did you fuck her? Is it true? Does she really have nipple piercings?"

"How many times did she let you hit?"

"Does she really suck at giving head?"

As Jungkook's friends questioned him, he felt an inner discomfort building up. He didn't appreciate their probing and, surprisingly moreover, he realized he didn't like the way they were talking about you. A strange urge welled up inside him, compelling him to defend you behind your back. For the first time, he felt the strong feeling of hate towards his own friends because of the way they were speaking of you.

Even though none of it was new to Jungkook, he had heard people talking about you like that before, even worse, but it never mattered to him. He never raised an eyebrow when people called you names, said crude things about you. He never called them out when they said things as if you were not a person but an object that everyone wanted to play with. But now, hearing these things made him angry at his own friends.

"Don't talk about her like that." Jungkook simply said.

"Woah... Bro you're whipped already, is her pussy that good?"

"I said don't talk about her like that. And we never did anything, I said no when she asked me out." There was a sudden pregnancy pause as both of his best friends looked at him in confusion.

"What?" Mingyu asked as if Jungkook was speaking some foreign language.

"I said I turned her down."

"I'm sorry, did you hit your head when you were a kid?" Yugyeom scoffed unbelievingly.

"What do you mean you turned her down? When she asks you out you don't say no, you bend on your knees and you ask her when and where."

"I don't have time for this, I have class." Jungkook resumed towards his path after rolling his eyes at his friends, ignoring their comments about how he has to be lying and if he really did say no to you then he's an idiot.

Jungkook doesn't understand the strange feelings swirling within him. Up until recently he was so sure that he absolutely hated you, hated everything you stand for, specially your nasty personality. Yet, the strong feeling of wanting to protect and defend you now confuses him. Why does he want to scream at his friends right now? Why does the mention of your name makes him feel jittery?

For the second time that morning Jungkook was interrupted on his way by somebody calling his name.

"Jungkook!" The voice called again but this time it was closer. He turned in just in time to see you run towards him in yet another one of your tiny outfits. Your clothes today covered more surface than the previous day, at least your denim skirt was a little longer and your breast weren't about to spill out of your little pink top with tiny strawberry prints.

"Hi." As you stood in front of him, his heart thumped against his chest. His dream from last night was still very vivid in his head. The images of you had engraved themselves in his brain and his whole body heated up with embarrassment and guilt when he remembers how he was so far gone into the lust that he shamelessly masturbated to you.

There were two similar to go cups in either of your hands, one filled with green and other with pink. Jungkook wonders what you were doing at this part of the campus when your classes were all the way over to the other side. Did you come all the way over here only to meet him? You wouldn't would you?

"Here, I got you strawberry Boba tea." You handed him the cup as you sipped on your own matcha.

"How do you-"

"I saw you order this in the café, the other day."

"What are you doing here? You don't have any classes here." He said a little shyly. The blush on his face was very evident although you might not know the reason behind it and he would like to keep it that way.

"Yeah, my classes start after 12. I thought I'll just hangout with you." You replied batting your eyelashes at him. "Won't you introduce me to your friends, Jungkook?" At your question Jungkook remembers that he was not alone right now and turned to look at the said friends, only to find them shamelessly staring at you with their mouth practically hung open as if they were meeting a celebrity or something. They both looked a little starstruck by you right now. You go to the same college as they do, what's the big deal?

"We know you." The tallest one out of the three said instantly and you raised your eyebrows at him. Jungkook wanted to scoff at their reactions.

Now you're aware that you're pretty famous (or infamous) around your college but you thought it was mostly in your department or the departments surrounding yours. You never knew you were also known all to the other side of the campus. Or perhaps Jungkook has talked about you with his friends? The thought alone made you want to giggle like a stupid teenager.

"You do?" You asked with a confused smile.

"Yeah we follow you on Instagram, I'm Yugyeom by the way."

"I'm Mingyu, we're Jungkook's friends."

"Oh, Hi. Nice to meet you guys." You said in that sweet voice of yours that Jungkook finds really obnoxious.

"Jungkook has class right now, if you want, you can hangout with us?" Mingyu suggested with a shy smile and before you could answer you felt a tug in your hand.

"It's fine guys, she has to get back to her department." With that Jungkook was dragging you out of there and you waved goodbye to his friends.

"What happened?" You asked with a little smirk as the boy gently dragged you along. You wonder if there was a chance that Jungkook was suddenly jealous of you talking to his friends.

In Jungkook's head he was doing you a favour. There was no way in hell he was going to let you alone with his friends after he just heard the way they talked about you. He was aware that you were very much capable of protecting or defending yourself. But just the thought of you spending time with his friends and them taking it as a signal sends chills down his spine.

"Jungkook, stop." He did as he was told and released your hand. "What happened? Why do you look mad?"

There's no need for you to know the actual reason behind why he's mad.

"Why did you come here?"

"I thought we could hang out."

"You don't have to. And you certainly don't have to bring me this." He said holding up the cup of pink bubble tea.

"Why?"

"Because I don't want anything to do with you."

"Are we seriously back to square one? I thought we bonded yesterday."

"I don't know what- what made you think that."

"I promise I won't bother you. Please, if I annoy you, you can tell me and I'll go away." Jungkook sighed at your proposal but didn't say anything and started walking towards his class. You happily took that as a hint to follow him.

*******

"Oh look, it's the girl who has given up all her dignity for a boy."

"Shut up, Jimin." you said as you sat down at the your usual spot, in the café beside your best friend.

"No, you don't get to be mad at me. I am mad at you. You've been ditching me all week."

"I'm sorry." Jimin rolled his eyes at your apology, mostly because it didn't seem sincere.

Thankfully the café this time of the day always seem pretty empty because crowd was the last thing you needed right now, it was only occupied by your group and some other people.

Even half of your group was missing, only Jimin and Hobi were there when you came in.

"You're still chasing that Jungkook guy?" Hosoek asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Yes." It was you best friend who had decided to answer on behalf of you.

"Wow, I've never seen you this desperate for dick."

"It's not just about that, Ok?" You snapped. "I mean, I don't even care if I don't get to have sex with him. I just... I don't know what it is, I guess I like him or something."

Both your friends look astound at your revelation. In fact you yourself was kind of amazed at what you said, never realizing it before the words left your mouth.

The last time you had romantic feelings for someone, he broke your heart and moved away from the city. Saying that he never intended to continue this relationship after graduating. That's why you dreaded having any sort of romantic relationship after that. The heartbreak was just too much and so not worth it.

You promised yourself that you'll only stick to sexual relationships from now on, no strings attached, that's until Jungkook came along. At first you thought it was just because he said no to you and you took it as a challenge. But that was not it. He made you feel different, he made you want to spend time with him even if you don't get any orgasms out of it.

That day when you spent time with him in the library you realized you liked looking at Jungkook's face. It gives you joy, no conversations need to take place and you would still enjoy his company.

Jimin was instantly by your side, forgetting the fact that he was supposedly mad at you. "Oh my god, you actually like him. That's the face you made when you told me about Yoongi."

"Really?"

"Wait, I thought we weren't suppose to talk about him."

"You can talk about him, Hobi. I've moved on," You assured your other friend before getting back to the previous topic. "And I guess I do, I just spent an hour with him in his chemistry lecture and I actually didn't mind because I got to be with him."

"Oh my god this is huge."

"No, its not that huge."

"It is kinda huge." You rolled your eyes before steeling Hoseok's muffin.

"Anyway, are you still mad at me?"

"NO. I thought you were ditching for dick, I didn't know you were in love with him." Jimin said with a smile.

"Shut up, I'm not in love."

The next five minutes went by you trying to convince your best friends that you're not in love and them teasing you about it.

"Hey guys, what are you talking about?"

"Joon." you instantly stood up to greet your friend with a tight hug. "Where's Jennie?"

"In class, we're supposed to meet here." he replied sitting in the empty chair beside the couch.

"We were talking about her new crush." said Hoseok making you glare at him.

"Oh right, Jennie told me about Jungkook."

"Of course she did, when has she ever been able to shut her mouth."

"In her defense, she kept her mouth shut for three whole days after she found out."

You met Namjoon through Yoongi, they were both in the swim team and as the girlfriend of the captain you became a part of their friend group by default. Namjoon was the sweetest jock you have ever seen. Even after you and Yoongi broke up Namjoon stayed friends with you, and you heard through his friends that he even scolded Yoongi for you. One day when you saw Namjoon drooling over one of your best friends you introduced them both and one year later they're still dating.

"Are you guys going to Rick Miller party this weekend?"

"I don't know. They never has the good boo-" Jimin started but a light bulb went off in your head.

"Yes we are." You replied.

"We are?" Jimin asked you'

"Yes, now Namjoon," you started turning to face your friend with glinting eyes. "I heard you're still friends with Won-woo."

"Oh no, I don't like where you're going with this." Namjoon shook his head.

"Just hear me out."

"OK fine. Yes we're still friends."

"Then you could convince him to bring Jungkook to the party?"

"I don't know, __, I don't think I should meddle, and if he finds-"

"Joonie, please?" You gave him the puppy eyes that works on almost everyone, key word- almost. "Don't forget I introduced you to your pretty girlfriend."

"Are you gonna hang that over my head forever?"

"Pretty much."

"What are you gonna do anyway? And I don't know if you can tell but Kook's not really the party type of guy."

"I don't know, I haven't figured that yet. But if he sees me outside of college then maybe he'll actually talk to me." It seemed that your words didn't convince any of your friends. "Look just please try, I'll owe you one."

"Fine. But I can't promise anything."

*******

Jungkook's eyes goes back and forth from the mobile in his hand and to the thick white liquidy substance all over his sheets.

The picture displayed on his phone was one of your recent pictures you've uploaded on Instagram. It was a picture of you laying on a beach towel, sunbathing, it was nothing scandalous, just a simple picture of you in a bathing suit.

He closes his eyes out of shame. This was the third day in a row that Jungkook had masturbated to you and he has never felt so ashamed of himself, he felt like he was objectifying you and it was very wrong.

He quickly takes a Kleenex from the nightstand and wipes himself clean. It wasn't like he hadn't tried other things, he had. He tried watching porn, hentai, anything that would keep him going but unfortunately it was only you that made him hard anymore.

Jungkook then carefully tucks his still sensitive cock back in his sweatpants and laid back down in his bed. It was 10:00 on a Saturday morning and he was just so glad that at least he wouldn't have to face you for two days. He was going to spend these two days doing anything that would get his mind off you.

Your picture was still open on the screen of his phone and it compelled him to scroll further. It seemed that you were pretty popular on Instagram, and you didn't even post anything other than photos of yourself and sometimes your friends.

His thumb stopped scrolling when it came across a particular selfie. You were making a cute face at the camera and you were clearly sitting on a guy's lap whose face could not be seen. His face was hidden in the crook of your neck, only silver hair visible. Jungkook's eyes narrowed in on the picture, taking notice of every single detail. Was it somebody you dated in the past? Or was it just one of your friends? You do seem awfully close to your friends.

He felt a weird pang in his chest looking at the picture. It wasn't an old picture at least it was uploaded recently, only 6 days ago to be exact. And if you were already seeing someone why would you approach him and ask him out on a date?

Overwhelmed by his sudden feelings, Jungkook shut his phone and threw it against his mattress. C'mon JK, you need to stop thinking about her.

To pull him out of his thoughts filled with you, the doorbell of his apartment rang twice. Jungkook waited on his bed thinking his roommate could open the door, it's not like he himself gets any visitors anyway.

The doorbell rang again and he stood up from his bed, a little annoyed because he was planning to spend a few more hours in bed.

"Hyung?" The sight of Wonwoo behind the door surprised Jungkook a little. His brother has visited his apartment only twice, once when he was looking for an apartment and once when he helped him move in, that's it. So seeing him on his doorstep all of a sudden surprised him.

"Hey, Guk. What's up?" Jungkook opens the door wide enough to welcome him in and shuts the door behind them. There was not much age difference between the two Jeons, Wonwoo was only a little more than a year older than Jungkook. But Wonwoo always treated Jungkook like a kid, and not in a good way. At first it was endearing when Jungkook was actually a kid, but now it was just annoying.

"What are you doing here, Hyung?"

"Yah, can't I visit my brother? Eomma called this morning, she said you're not picking up her calls," Oh right, there was a reason Jungkook wasn't picking up his mother's calls and he wasn't proud of it. "I was around here so I thought I'd see what you're up to."

"Yeah, I was going to call her back. I was doing... something." At the suspicious raised eyebrow given to him by his brother he came up with an better excuse. "Working out. I was working out." Wonwoo doesn't need to know that he just spent an entire morning dreaming of you and touching himself.

"Working out huh? I see you've already built some muscles, little Kookie." There it was again, the condescending tone and the 'little Kookie' like he was some damn kid learning how to ride a bike.

"Is there something else you want, Hyung?" Jungkook asked politely. Yes Jungkook hated him time to time but it was still his older brother and he respected him.

"Nah, now that I know you're not dead, I can go back."

"Ok. I'll call Eomma and let her know you stopped by."

As Wonwoo was in front of the door ready to leave he stopped in his tracks and turned around.

"Hey, Gguk,"

"Yeah?"

"There's a party tonight at one of my teammates place, umm do you wanna go with me and the boys?" Jungkook was almost shocked at his question. He was always under the impression that his brother was somewhat embarrassed of his nerd younger brother, and now he wants him to come to a party with him and 'the boys'?

"What?" He asked as if the question wasn't clear to him.

"Namjoon suggested that you could do some socializing. And this party is just perfect, everyone goes every semester, even students from your department. And it's also not THAT wild."

"I don't know, Hyung. I'm not really a party person."

"I know. That's what I said. But he's right, a little socializing never hurts anyone. And if it's too much for you, you can always come back."

"I'll think about it."

"Ok, bro. Let me know whenever you change your mind."

*******

You can't recall the last instance you felt this thrilled about a college party. Yes they were fun and you got to get high and drunk with your friends and then you'd find a hot guy and sleep with him, but it was all becoming monotonous now. The same shit all the time. But this time it was different, there was a possibility that Jungkook could be there and that made you...excited?

You also can't remember the last time you went to a party and didn't get high right away.

"So what did Wonwoo say? Will he bring Jungkook?" You asked Namjoon who was sitting across from you on a chair with his girlfriends on his lap.

"Babe, its not even 11 yet, give 'em some time." Jimin said offering you the joint which you refused with a shake of your head.

You were currently sitting on Jimin's lap because you don't trust any furniture in these frat houses. God knows who has been there and done what. It has become a regular occurrence now. Whenever you went to these parties your only seat was your friend's lap, because these dresses ain't cheap.

"Wait, did you dress up all pretty for him?" asked Jennie, sipping that fruit punch that was spiked so many times with different alcohols that you were sure it was poisonous now. Instead of going for the 'hot girl' look tonight you decided to wear something that would make you look 'beautiful'.

The anticipation of Jungkook's arrival tonight was gradually diminishing. Positioned where you were, you had a clear view of the front door, yet there was no sign of Jungkook or his brother. Just as you were about to turn to Jimin to express your disappointment once more, a familiar tuft of fluffy hair caught your attention.

Your face instantly lit up at the sight of the boy. And of course Jungkook looked as cute as always if not more. You notice how he was wearing a black dress shirt and gray pants instead of his usual oversized tees and trousers.

"Should I go over right now or should I wait?" You asked your friends and they turned to look at the boy.

"I say wait at least 20 minutes. You don't wanna look desperate."

"Hobi, I've been following the guy for days. I don't think one can look any more desperate than that."

"True."

"I should go ask him for a drink."

"I'm pretty sure there's no bubble tea here." Jimin commented making the rest of the circle laugh.

"Ha ha, very funny. Suck a dick."

Jungkook looked very out of the place when you walked up to him. He didn't notice you until you were right in front of him.

"Hi, I didn't know you'd be here."

On the other hand, Jungkook wasn't particularly surprised to find you here. In fact, while getting ready, he had imagined the possibility of encountering you at least twenty times, playing out scenarios in his head about how he would react and what he would say. His gaze subtly traced over your figure, clad in a white glittery dress with a sweetheart neckline.

"You look handsome," you complimented him, noting the slight flush that colored his cheeks. It was the first time you had really taken notice of his muscular arms. Those t-shirts he typically wore to college certainly didn't do justice to his physique at all.

'You-You look pretty, as well."

"You think so?" you asked, giggling. You've always been aware that you're quite attractive; confidence has always been your strong suit. However, hearing the words coming from Jungkook—the boy who had never even acknowledged you—gave you a whole new sense of conviction.

"Yes."

"Thanks. Are you here with someone?"

"Umm, yes, my- my brother was suppose to meet me here."

"Maybe I can wait with you until you find him?"

"No, its ok. You should get back to your friends."

"No, please. Let me?" Jungkook couldn't quite pinpoint the reason—whether it was the fact that you were meeting outside of college, the way you looked, or the guilt that Jungkook couldn't shake off—but when you asked with that look on your face, he couldn't say no. "Okay, Kook, let's go get you some drinks," you said, taking the lead.

As you held his hand and pulled him further inside the house, it sent shivers throughout his body. Jungkook still couldn't believe that someone like you would actually take the time to entertain him, especially right now when you could just be with your friends and enjoy your time.

"You're okay with alcohol, right?" you asked, turning to face Jungkook as you both stood in front of a large table filled with all kinds of alcoholic and non-alcoholic drinks. With so many people surrounding the table, the gap between your back and his chest was practically nonexistent.

"Yeah, but. Nothing too strong."

"The fruit punch is out of question then." Jungkook looked at the big glass jar that looked too pink to be consumable. "I'm gonna make you a __ special."

"A __ special? What's that?"

"A few months ago I accidently made this cocktail and it tastes amazing. You're gonna love it." You said already looking for the ingredients.

"What's in it?"

"Mostly Pineapple juice and tequila, but there's my secret ingredient, that I've never told anyone." You said, pouring the pineapple juice in the red cup. "Its actually red-bull, but promise me you'll never tell anyone." You handed him your invention proudly and he couldn't help but smile at the evident excitement on your face.

"Ok." He said, sniffing the liquid before taking a sip.

"How is it?" Horrible, it was horrible, Jungkook has never tasted anything this bad in his entire life. But that smile on your face, Jungkook could never let down that smile on your face.

"Its good."

"Right?" You said, making a drink for yourself, well, just pouring neat vodka in a cup.

"Do you go to college parties regularly?"

"Well, the first two years I did. But then it became boring, so we only attend sometimes, when we have nothing else to do."

"This is actually my first time." he admitted and it made you smile that he was finally talking to you without stuttering.

"Yeah? What made you come to this one."

"My hyun- my brother said it would be good for me to socialize a little."

"I hope you're not regretting your decision so far."

"I'm- I'm not."

Silence enveloped both of you for the next few seconds, neither knowing what to say next. You had been so focused all this time on getting Jungkook to talk to you that you hadn't considered what you would talk about if you actually had a conversation. You and Jungkook had almost nothing in common.

Jungkook, on the other hand, remained skeptical about the whole situation. Ok, there might be a slight chance that you weren't orchestrating all of this to make fun of him with your friends and that you genuinely wanted to get to know him. But did that mean that everything he had ever heard about you was a lie? Or were you just putting up a front?

"Its really noisy in here, would you like to go to the backyard or something?" you asked in hopes of getting some alone time with the boy in front of you.

"Umm, I'm not sure, my brother would be looking for me." The entire world knows by now that Jungkook's brother will not give two damns if he got lost in this party but he's already done enough socializing for one day.

"Oh come on, Jungkook. I promise I won't try anything funny." the younger boy almost chuckled at the look on your face.

"Okay, I guess it won't hurt anyone." you did a little victory dance in your head before holding his hand in your unoccupied one and dragging him out of the now crowded house.

*******

"No way, you watch Anime?" after a few minutes of awkwardly walking around in the garden Jungkook and you finally fell into a conversation, although his sentences still don't consist of many words you counted this as a win.

"Yes, why is it so hard for you to believe that I watch anime and listen to heavy metal?"

"I don't know...y-you just don't seem like the type."

Jungkook had constructed a specific image of you in his mind based on all the things he had heard from his brother, friends, and people in general. So far, none of the things you had revealed about yourself fit into that image at all.

From everything Jungkook had heard, you didn't seem like the type of person to enjoy heavy metal or comic books, or engage in anything even remotely described as nerdy or boring. You were supposed to be this big mean girl who burned everything that came into contact with her; you weren't supposed to be approachable or relatable.

"What type do I seem like then?" You asked with genuine curiosity in your eyes, you were not offended that he dared to assume shit about you, you just wanted to see yourself from his eyes.

"Someone who would... laugh at my face if I tell her how much I love comic books."

"What? Why would I do that?" you asked with a laugh that made your eyes go small and cheeks fluffier. Jungkook swear he has not heard a prettier laughter. "You know what, if you get to-" Before you could complete your sentence you were cut off by the loud noise of your drunk 'Friend'.

"Oh, there she is," Jay stumbled on his way to you. When he reached you two you saw Jungkook visibly cringe at how much he stank of alcohol and weed.

"What do you want, Jay?" It wasn't really new for him to get crazy drunk at parties and approach you, but what really annoyed you was him interrupting the moment between you and Jungkook.

"Oh you are with the nerd." His eyes went to Jungkook who was looking at him with his doe eyes. "So did you finally have him? Are you bored yet?"

"What the fuck are you talking about, Jay? Leave us alone."

"Us? There is an 'us'?" he asking pointing his finger at you and Jungkook.

"Its none of your business."

"You? You seriously think you can change this slut? You fucking nerd, she's just gonna use you and throw you away like a tissue, you are nothing, literally nothing." He was now talking to Jungkook and standing too close to him for his comfort. You eyes were widening at his words.

"Jay what the fuck is wrong with you, get the fuck away from him." You had successfully pulled him enough away from Jungkook to get yourself in the middle. "I swear to god, you are going to regret this tomorrow so walk away."

"Or what? Your lap dog will come after me? Tell me do you let Jimin fuck you for all the service he does?" You were now absolutely disgusted with his words.

You looked back at Jungkook and saw him backing away, his eyes were on the ground, his face mimic the disgusted look on yours, you just don't know if it was for you or Jay.

"Jungkook, please don't listen to him, he's drunk and-"

"I-I'm, I'm just, I'm gonna head back. I'll see—" Without completing his sentence, Jungkook rushed back inside the house, presumably to leave through the front door.

"You FUCKING IDIOT, I swear to god if you ever come near me I'll fuck you up, I hate you. Do you not understand that I do not want you. Can't you get that through that thick skull of yours?" after ranting you quickly rushed after Jungkook not noticing the other man looking at you as if you just ruined his night and not the other way around.

"Jungkook stop," you called out guiding yourself through the sweaty bodies dancing and grinding and what not. "Please, just listen to me."

Taking advantage of his long legs and large steps, Jungkook was almost out of the front door and out of your sight. Just as you were about to cross the threshold, somebody threw a whole glass of fruit punch all over you.

"Oh my god, I'm sooo sorry-" You looked as the girl in front of you and if you were not in such a hurry you would bring another glass just to pour it down her head.

"It's okay." When you were out on the front yard, Jungkook was no where to be seen. You sighed in frustration, Jungkook was finally opening up to you and that rat just had to ruin-

"What happened to your dress?" Came a soft voice.

"You didn't leave yet." You smiled in relief.

"I was about to, I just- thought I should check on you first. He seemed pretty drunk."

"Look Jungkook, whatever he said, I'm very sorry about it. He shouldn't said that about you-"

"And what about you?"

"Huh?"

"He said worse things about you."

"Well... I'm pretty sure you have heard that before about me."

"I did. A lot."

"Look what he said to you was way out of line and I'm just so mad at him-"

"And why are you not mad at him for what he said about you?" His question confused you a lot.

"Because I'm used to it."

"Why?"

"I-I don't know. Jungkook, I know you are mad at what he said, but I swear to god, its not like that with you, I'm not-"

"I am, I am mad at what he said but not about me, I am mad at what he said about you and I am more mad that you let him."

"It's nothing, I don't really care."

"You should," he said calmly, "you should care, if you're really not what people say then you should stand up for yourself." with that he turned around to walk away from the house.

"Wait," he turned around. "Are you really going to leave me here like this? I am drenched."

******

Jungkook's room was cute, just like him—warm and cozy. Surprisingly, it was cleaner than what you expected a guy's room to be, except for a few pieces of clothes thrown over his gaming chair.

"Here, you can change into this?" Jungkook said handing you a big black t-shirt of his and his boxer briefs.

It was safe to say that Jungkook was completely freaking out right now. He had never had a girl at his place, and now he not only had 'any' girl but you roaming around in his room with your delicate feet in that tiny pink-stained white dress of yours.

"Can I use the shower?" you asked and he pointed to the brown door behind you.

As soon as you were behind the door he let out a loud breath that he was holding in ever since you started following him to his place.

When he was going out tonight he was only supposed to stay for 10-15 minutes and comeback to finish his paused video game. He had no intention whatsoever to bring a girl back let alone you out of all people.

Its not that Jungkook hates the idea of you in his shower, naked. Its that even the idea of it makes him all hot and bothered.

Jungkook looks back to the time 20 minutes ago, he could have booked you a cab for your own place but when you looked all innocent and helpless he couldn't help but utter those four words.

"Are you really going to leave me here like this? I am drenched."

"I live near by."

And that is how you ended up naked in his bathroom. Just a wooden door away.

Looking around his room, he quickly made sure there was no embarrassing thing left on any surface. With his shaking hands, he tidied up his room a little, stuffing everything in his closet— it was now future Jungkook's problem. However, Jungkook's immediate concern was the very visible tent in his gray pants.

Dammit, when did he get a hard on? Was it the thought of you naked in his bathroom, or was it your clearly very wet dress, or was it when you asked him if you could shower, or was it when he first saw you in this evening.

Maybe if he changed into some loose sweatpants, it wouldn't be very noticeable, so he did. Without taking a shower or cleaning himself of tonight's chaos, he quickly changed into his black sweatpants and a t-shirt similar to the one he gave you.

You couldn't believe you were inside Jungkook's shower, you personally thought that showers were a little too intimate, you have never showered at any of your hookup's place. In fact the last time you used a man's shower was when you were with Yoongi.

Now here you were in Jungkook's bathroom, looking at one of the most private parts of his life. The kind of shower gel he uses, the color of his toothbrush everything was too intimate and left you feeling giddy in your stomach. Not to mention you were wearing his clothes.

His t-shirt was too loose on you, your shoulders were tiny compared to his broad once, t-shirt was almost falling below your mid thigh whereas his hips were so petite that his boxers were a little tight on you.

You took a palm full of cold water and threw it on your face in hopes that your cheeks would cool down a little. Once you opened the door and went outside you saw Jungkook in different clothes sitting on his bed with two bowls in his hands.

When the boy looked up at you, you could see his cheeks visibly flush red. If only you could read his mind you would know how much in awe he was right now.

Jungkook had always known that you were pretty, it was no secret from the whole world, people simped after you for a reason. But right now, in his clothes, with your face bare of any makeup you were absolutely breathtakingly gorgeous.

"I- ummm... I heat up some pasta from lunch... hope you don't mind leftovers." His voice was once again too small. Like he lost all the confidence you saw back there in the party.

"No, Thank you so much. I was hungry." You said taking a seat beside him and taking the bowl from his hand. You let out a tiny moan after taking the first bite. "This is delicious, did you make this." He only nod his head in answer.

The next few minutes were spent as you two ate in silence, enjoying the meal he cooked. Your mind went back to what he said to you at the party.

"Jungkook?"

"Hmm?"

"Do you really think that I should care about what people say about me?"

"Not people. I just think that you let your friends take you for granted. A lot. If they really are your friends they wouldn't talk shit about you like that."

This is the biggest sentence you heard Jungkook saying till now, that too without stuttering. You smiled at him and he got shy again. the tip of his ears along with the apple of his cheeks started flushing.

"What?"

"Nothing, just. Ever since Yoongi and I broke up, i kind of took on that whole 'it girl' role. And I don't really care about what people say or call me and maybe that's why none my friends care either, but... it feels nice to have someone get mad on your behalf."

When Jungkook looked at your eyes and the little smile on your face he could finally see you, not the girl people describe and not the girl his brother seemed to hate so much, he could see you, he couldn't understand if you were the same person who supposedly hurt so many people and broke so many hearts.

You noticed how his eyes traveled to your lips and then back to your eyes.

"I am... You can sleep here, I-I'll just take the couch in the hall."

"Its okay, i guess... we can share a bed."

You suggestion almost made him hiccup. He is almost 23 years old and he has never shared a bed with another woman, well beside his mom and cousins obviously.

"Umm, no its okay...I can just take the couch." Truth was that Jungkook wasn't sure if he will be able to breath properly if he slept beside you.

"Come on Jungkook, I won't bite." You said while putting your hand on his shoulder, as soon as you hand touched him he jumped up from the bed as if you shocked him.

"Goodnight, if you need anything just wake me up...or whatever." With that he picked up a pillow and left the room.

*******

The next day, when Jungkook walked into his Psychology class, you were already sitting there, waving your hand at him and patting the empty seat beside you. Of course, Jimin was on your other side, looking more uninterested than ever.

Jungkook wasn't aware that you were in the same class; he had never noticed you before. He began searching for another seat to avoid being distracted by you throughout the class. However, he couldn't find any available seats that weren't at the back.

"Hi Jungkook." You said once he finally settled down beside you but received no reply from the boy and it made you frown, was he seriously going to pretend that nothing happened last night, like those few minutes of bonding were nothing.

"I recently transferred classes." You informed him about the tiny detail. "You have to help me with whatever that's been going on." you said as he silently put down his stuff beside you. He sat down without doing much to acknowledge your existence but you looked around and saw there were many vacant seats in the hall and he chose to sit beside you, so he's not completely ignoring you or anything.

"I don't understand a single thing this man is saying." you exclaimed quietly but loud enough.

"Yes, and thanks to you we are stuck here." Jimin rolled his eyes beside you.

"Can you please help me catch up after lecture?" You looked at Jungkook.

"Since when do you care about academics?" Jungkook asked while writing down whatever the old man was saying.

"Since now. Pretty please?" The boy looked at you as you batted your eyelashes and sighed.

"Fine. I don't have any other class after this, I can help you study."

You almost exclaimed loudly but then recalled how rude and unfiltered Mr. Hastings was so you sat quietly for the rest of the lecture.

Once the lecture finally ended and you saw Jungkook preparing to get out of the class, you quickly got up to follow him. "I'll see you guys at the cafe ok?" you told your best friend and without waiting for a reply ran after Jungkook.

"Where are we going?"

"To the library."

"I thought you don't have any classes after this. Neither do I. Why can't we just leave?" You whined, feeling slightly irritated by his unexpected behavior. It's not like his behavior was new—he'd been like this from the beginning. But after last night, you really thought something had shifted. You didn't just imagine everything, did you? This morning he even made you a breakfast sandwich and arranged an Uber for you.

"I like studying in the library." Of course he does!

"Let's just go to your place." You said while trying and failing to drag him with you. 'Wow, he sure is pretty strong' "Come on, Jungkook. Pleaseeeee! I hate that library, Its so silent and cold."

Jungkook bit his lips while contemplating your offer. 'God you are so irresistible' Last night Jungkook almost forgot about all the promises he made to his brother. His beliefs towards you were slowly changing, he knew you were not the monster everyone made you to be, quite the opposite actually. Still, he believed hanging with you was like walking on burning coals, he was ought to get burned.

Jungkook didn't say anything. He just let you happily drag him out of this dreadful campus. He thinks he has spent the whole night alone with you at his place without letting himself lose control, he's pretty sure he can do a few more hours.

*******

Somehow this afternoon Jungkook was much less nervous than last night. Thank god he decided to clean the whole place right after you left. You were sitting on his bed with your pretty legs under your butt as your wide eyes looked up at him.

"Do you want anything to drink?"

"Just water." He nodded and left to grab a bottle from his kitchen.

'Calm down Jungkook, you are just gonna help her study and then she's gonna leave'. Wiping his sweaty palms on his sweatshirt Jungkook reentered his room only to find you out of the cardigan that was covering you, leaving you only in a beige camisole and a pair of white shorts.

"I hope you don't mind. Your room's kinda warm"

"Its okay. Water." He handed you the bottle with almost shaky hand.

"Thanks."

"We should start, if you wanna cover all the topics before Mr. Hastings gives off assignments. He's pretty brutal while checking the papers."

For the next half and hour or so Jungkook has gone through 5 pages of his notes with you, or maybe 3; you weren't really counting. You would be lying if you said that you understood everything that came out of his pretty mouth, Psychology was not really one of the hardest subjects that you chose but he was just too pretty for you to focus on any thing besides him.

"You are not focusing." Jungkook said blatantly as you sat in front of him on his bed, giving him heart eyes while he just poured his heart to you about the schools of psychology.

"I totally am, I just listened to everything you said, and I totally agree."

"Really? Then which school emphasizes the role of unconscious conflicts, early childhood experiences, and defense mechanisms in the development of psychological disorders?"

"Ummm...the middle school?"

"NO the psychodynamic school." this was the first time you were seeing Jungkook speaking so loudly and passionately about something, and honestly it was a turn on. "Did you listen to anything I just said?"

"Sorry, I promise I'll focus from now on."

"Do, you want to take a break?" You were surprised that Jungkook was the first one who suggested to take a break and not you.

"Yeah sure, What should we do?" You asked suggestively knowing very well that Jungkook will not even think about the million things that you want to do to him right now but a girl can always hope right?

"Umm, I have video games, if you wanna play? Or we can watch anime." both the options were way different from what you were hinting so you took the matters in your own hand.

"Or..." You scooched closer to the boy, "We could make out." All the oxygen from Jungkook's body left him right there. His whole face was suddenly red and hot and he had no idea if you were just joking or if you were serious.

"Y-you want to do that?"

"You don't?" Of course he did, that is all he had thought about ever since you started talking to him.

"Wh-why me?" His question made you laugh lightly.

"Jungkook. Is it not painfully obvious that I am attracted to you?" As a matter of fact you have never tried hiding that you have a crush on him, not from him, not from anybody. So you were not sure why he was so surprised by your confession.

"But why me?" It broke you heart that he was not aware of how painfully gorgeous he was.

"Because-" You moved closer and removed his iPad from his hands , practically sitting on his lap. "I think you are the most gorgeous and sweetest person I've ever met in my entire life." You slowly reached for his face with your right hand removing his glasses, testing the waters. You would never do anything that would make him even slightly uncomfortable. "And you have beautiful eyes. Is this Ok?" Jungkook's voice was caught in his throat, all he could offer you was a nod which made you giggle.

"Do you want me to continue?" The conscious side of his brain was saying no, reasoning with him, what would he tell his brother? But his body was possessed, possessed by lust and the touch of your soft hands. His hands were suddenly involuntarily reaching out for you, he was craving to touch you, hold you and finally kiss you.

"Yes, please."

"As you wish, baby boy." Your lips finally met his soft ones and he felt like he has reached euphoria. He had completely lost control over his body. His hand grabbed you by the waist as hard as he could without hurting you and pulled you onto his laps.

His heart was beating so loudly that he was scared he would go into a cardiac arrest. The first few strokes of his lips were a little awkward, considering it was not a daily occurrence for him like you but after a few soft kisses his lips found the perfect rhythm with yours.

You smiled into the kiss as he slowly gained confidence and started kissing you more fiercely. His kisses were so soft and smooth that it felt like you have been kissing him daily. Soon you felt him opening his mouth a little wider so you took the opportunity and slipped in your tongue, he tasted like strawberries and mint, reminding you of his sweet taste in beverages.

"Wow!" you exclaimed as soon as he pulled away for some air. "You are a great kisser."

"T-thank you, so are you."

"Aww don't get shy now." you said pointing at the pink hue rising up his neck and to his cheeks. "So? you want to continue or you want to go back to studying?" You asked half seriously, hoping to god he wouldn't choose the second option.

"I think you've studied enough for today."

You let out a tiny giggle before crashing your lips again on his. You took his hand and dragged it up your chest, granting him permission to touch you. his hand stayed there for a second before giving your breast a tiny squeeze, pulling out a moan from you.

It wasn't much later that you started grinding your hips against his, feeling his very prominent boner through his pants. After a few circular motion of your hips, he was a moaning mess in your hands.

His shaky hands started pulling at your top with urgency, wanting to feel more of your exposed skin. You helped him take off your top and he sat still for a moment, looking at your breast like a little kid looking at a carnival.

"You wanna touch them?" You asked, guiding his hand to the hook of your bra and he nodded very eagerly. After the little piece of cloth came off his lips didn't waste a single second before coming in contact with your nipple, sucking on it as if it had the cure of all diseases. His tongue did a fantastic job making you whimper and moan on his lap.

"Oh my god, baby, you are so good at this." you cried holding the back of his head and guiding his mouth to all the right places.

Your lips wanted to taste him again so you did and this time he was the most confident. You had no idea how his kisses improved so much in a matter of few minutes, but you were not complaining. His tongue explored every corner of your mouth and his lips sucked in yours like a candy.

It was your turn now to pull at his t-shirt until it was thrown away in another corner of his room and there was no barrier between both of your upper bodies.

You sat there for a few seconds, admiring the view. He really was gorgeous, he was lean but very muscular, you knew he was hiding something delicious under all those baggy clothes.

Your fingertips ran along the smooth honey like skin until they reached the hem of his sweatpants. You looked up at his face asking for permission. He looked a little nervous.

"I want to suck your cock, Jungkook. I promise it will feel nice." He contemplated your offer for a few seconds before finally nodding his head yes and you gave him another kiss out of joy.

You didn't waste too much time before pulling his sweatpants and briefs down his thighs. His cock spring up at your touch making you almost drool. You have had sex with a lot of men A LOT, but you swear that you have never seen a prettier dick. Or maybe it looked so pretty because of the man it was attached to.

You leaned down and left tiny kisses along his thighs making his cock angrier and darker. It was so thick that you couldn't wrap your whole hand around it. You could already imagine how good it would feel inside you.

As soon as you gave a kitten lick on the tip, Jungkook let out a loud groan.

"Ple-please."

"Please what baby?"

"Please __, do something. It feels so nice."

You let out another giggle at his desperation and decided not to torture him any further. His one hand supported him up from the bed as the other one grabbed your head and pushed it further down, making you swallow his cock until it reached the back of your throat.

His precum tasted like butter, smooth and salty. You looked up at the boy while bobbing your head up and down, his eyes were closed and mouth was hung open as he moaned your name again and again like a mantra.

Your hand wrapped around the base of his cock, what you couldn't fit in your mouth as your tongue constantly licked the head. His orgasm came without any warning, hitting your chest and face and your quickly wrapped your mouth around the tip in order to not waste any more of it. It would be such a shame to waste the cum from such a pretty cock.

You swallowed all his load and giggle when you looked at his expression. He looked like he was about to ask you to marry him.

"I'm sorry, i should have warned you." He said and you followed his eyes to the droplets of cum sitting prettily between both your breasts.

"Its ok, I like surprises." You said taking his t-shirt that he handed you to wipe his cum.

His eyes couldn't seem to look away from you. You've always been beautiful, but at this moment, you looked otherworldly. With your tousled hair and nearly bare face, he had never encountered anyone more stunning. When he kissed you this time, he was entirely confident; it was brief yet filled with intense passion.

"Teach me?" You looked at him confusingly.

"I want to do something for you, please you, make you--... I want to make you cum, teach me how to." You smiled at his request.

"Maybe some other time. You look tired right now, lets take a nap."

Some other time. You said 'some other time', does that mean it was not a one time deal with him.

He nodded at your suggestion and pulled up his sweatpants and briefs. Just as you were about to get up from his bed to give him his privacy his hand pulled you to his chest and wrapped around you tightly.

"Sleep with me?" He pleaded with a soft voice and you obliged happily.

As you slipped into slumber Jungkook couldn't help but wonder, was this post orgasm bliss that he was experiencing or did something just shift inside him? He suddenly felt anger towards his brother, towards everyone who has ever spoken ill about you.

It seemed impossible that someone so mean could be so sweet to him alone. He wanted to protect you, even though he knew he wasn’t strong enough. Still, he would do everything he could to ensure that no one ever harmed you.

******

When you woke up from your nap it was pretty dark outside Jungkook's window, you don't know how many hours you slept but it was one hell of a sleep.

Jungkook was still sound asleep, his head on your chest and arms wrapped around your waist. You smiled to your self once you heard him snore. 'wow even he snores so prettily'.

You wanted to pee so bad but you were unable to even move under him. You laid there for a few more minutes not wanting to wake him up but the urge to take a leak just became unbearable.

"Jungkook..." You shook him slightly, "Baby, I need to use the restroom."

"Why?" He asked in his sleepy voice making you laugh.

"Why? Why do people use the toilet, silly?"

"Just do it on the bed."

"EW, Jungkook no."

"I'm kidding, I'm kidding." He laughed before getting up and you ran to the bathroom as soon as you were free.

'Did Jungkook just make a joke.' You thought as you sat down on the toilet. It was the first time you were watching this side of Jungkook, he was always either too nervous to talk to you or too irritated. You were happy though, that he could finally be himself around you.

After you cleaned yourself and walked back inside the room Jungkook was already dressed in fresh clothes and you missed his bare chest.

"Here," he handed you a grey t-shirt. "It is clean." You were surprised as he pulled you closer to him and pecked your lips. Neither of you spoke about your departure from his place and acted like it was daily occurrence for you to spend so much time at his flat.

"So? Should we continue with our lesson?" he asked pulling you down on his lap.

"Do we have to?"

"I mean, if you want to pass his class then yes."

"Or we can think about it later and do something fun."

"How about, we study for an hour and then you could choose any game that you want to play, I have 278 games that you can choose from."

"Oh my god, 278?" You asked with wide eyes and he nodded his head. "Wow you are a nerd."

"Guilty."

You agreed with his deal and he also promised to treat you with food after the study session.

You have to admit that studying was fun with Jungkook. His concepts were so clear that he made them sound very easy to you and by the end of the hour you were proud that you finally learned something today.

"Wow that was very easy, I have no idea how that man makes all of this sound so fucking boring. You know what you should be a lecturer."

"You think so?"

"Actually no, that is a very bad idea. Nobody will listen to a single thing that you say"

"Why?"

"They will be too busy looking at that pretty face." You said in all seriousness and he started blushing again.

"Okay so you wanna play FIFA?"

*******

"Wow you are smiling, A LOT." Jimin said and gave you a side eye as you happily sipped on your matcha tea.

"I'm always smiling."

"You are, but today it looks like your face got stuck with a hanger inside."

"That's because I am happy?"

"Why? What did you smoke?"

"Nothing, can't I be happy sober."

"You can, but you are only this happy when you smoke good weed."

"Let's go its time for class." You said getting up from the couch and pulling Jimin up with you.

"Seriously what happened to you? You want to go to class again?"

"If you don't come, I'll go by myself." Your threat seemed to work on him as he rolled his eyes and started following.

"What did this Jungkook guy do to you? Did he make you join some geeks cult? Blink twice for yes." Jimin joked as both of you made your way to Mr. Aitken's hall.

"Why is it so hard to believe that I want to study and attend my classes?"

"Yeah right, you also want to bake a pie and become a housewife."

When you enter hall SF22 your eyes immediately started looking for Jungkook and they lit up as soon as they spotted him. He seemed to have noticed you as he patted at the empty seat beside him with a shy smile.

"Let's go, Chimmy."

"You want to sit in the front?"

"Yeah why not."

"Maybe its time for me to switch best friends."

"As anyone else would tolerate you beside me. Hi, Jungkook." You said as you sat down beside him at glared at Jimin when he didn't greet him.

"Hey man." Jungkook immediately nodded at him and return his greeting.

Jungkook wondered if anyone in this hall could figure out that you spent the entire night at his place and made out with him till the dawn. What if they found out though? Would they mock him? Would they say more awful things about you? He hated being the center of attention, especially if it was for negative reasons, but he would still prefer people to talk shit about him rather than you.

Jungkook also wonders if you had the same feeling of despair as he did when you left this morning. He questioned whether everything that was happening effected you the way it did him.

Although the sweet smile that you gave him was reassuring enough he couldn't help but think if you would become bored of him sooner or later.

You on the other hand could practically see the wheels in his head turning around and he once again looked shy and nervous. What happened to the Jungkook you saw last night? the Jungkook that was confident enough to ask you to teach him how to make you cum.

"You okay?" You asked and before he nodded with another smile. You took his hand under the table and gave it a squeeze.

The lecture went by neither of you saying anything, But you made sure to rub his thigh every now and then.

Once the lecture was over he didn't leave like he usually did but instead waited for you to get up first, you took him by surprise when you held out your hand for him. Jimin looked at you with a questioning look, he wouldn't say that you were not a PDA person but he has never seen you hold hands with some beside him and maybe Yoongi when you guys were together.

"I'll meet you at the cafe, Jiminie." You told your best friend giving him a side hug which he gladly returned and left with your hands in Jungkook's. He was happy for you, yes a little jealous that he had to now share his time with you with some other guy but if you were happy he wanted nothing more than that.

"Where are we going?" You asked swinging your joined hands back and forth.

"The library."

You complained a bit, but you happily went along with him. It didn’t matter where he went; you’d probably follow him even to the dumpster. You couldn’t quite explain this overwhelming desire to spend all your time with him—it had never happened to you before, not even with Yoongi. You usually needed your personal space, but with Jungkook, it felt different; he was your personal space.

The library was much quieter than usual for a Friday morning. Only a few people lingered among the shelves and chairs, and they seemed indifferent to both of you, allowing Jungkook to exhale in relief.

He was about to sit on his usual spot but you dragged him farther inside the liberary.

"I know a spot," you said, noticing the questioning look on his face as you led him to the library's unexplored section. The books were coated in dust, suggesting that no one had been here in ages—perhaps because Celtic mythology was considered a forgotten topic. Jungkook had never seen this part of the library before, and you only came here to make out in peace.

"What is this section."

"Celtic Mythology and that is paleontology, nobody comes here. Ever."

"Why?"

"I don't know, probably because nobody reads them anymore."

"That's sad. These books must have been lonely for years," he said, his voice tinged with sadness as he traced his fingers along the spine of a book. He looked as pure as the first rays of morning sunlight. It was endearing how much he cared, even for the forgotten books.

"Why are we here?" he asked, his innocence making you want to tuck him away in your pocket and shield him from the world.

"I wanted to kiss you." You were blunt like always, taking his breath away from his lungs.

"You do?"

"Umhmm, don't you?"

"I do. Very much."

"Then what's stopping you? Kiss me."

"What if- what if someone walks in?"

"Nobody comes here, trust me. I'm pretty sure half of these people don't even know the existence of this section," You said pulling him closer to you. "So... You can do whatever you like, baby. Nobody would know." Your words were enough reassurance for him. He cupped your face with both of his hands and pulled you in for a sweet and short kiss.

"Can I... can I touch you here?" He questions, fingers hovering over your covered pussy and you nodded in excitement.

His hands were shaky as they slid under your skirt and caressed your wetness through your panties. His touch was so soft yet it sent a lightning inside your body making you shiver and almost lose your balance. If it wasn't for his other hand holding your waist you would have fell down.

You held his hand and guided it inside your panty. You became so wet in just a few seconds. Jungkook was eager so he did what he craved for, dipped two fingers in your arousal and pulled them out to suck on them. The site almost made you come right there.

You tasted delicious to him, just like how he imagined all those times he did the unholy while thinking of you. It was the perfect mixture of salty and sweet

You grabbed his neck and pulled him in an eager kiss. Lips clashing away at each other like it was a battle. His hand went back inside your underwear and wasted no time before pushing in two fingers. His thumb played your clit like a guitar.

You whimpered against his lips as his other hand went inside your crop top and squeezed you like a lemon. The more he tasted your cherry lip gloss the more he craved for it.

"Jung-... baby, I'm gonna cum." You warned him and he rubbed you even even faster. His two fingers buried so deep inside you that he could stroke your walls.

As you came down from your high your fingers started to immediately work on the buttons of his jeans.

Your mouth was watering at the thought of his cock. You wanted a taste again.

"__, somebody's gonna walk in." He said as you quickly pushed him against the bookshelf and pulled down his zipper.

"Shh... if you don't make any nose, nobody would know." You murmured against his lips that were now shining with your pink lip gloss. You slowly started pumping his cock that was now hard and hot against your hand. "Do you want me to make you cum?" He hesitantly nodded and you happily sunk down on your knees to take him in your mouth.

When your warm wet lips wrapped around the tip of his cock, Jungkook realized how hard it was going to be to stay silent.

*******

Spending the night in Jungkook's room has almost became a daily occurrence to you. It has been exactly three weeks since you first gave him the best orgasm of his life.

It was now like a daily schedule that you would go to his place after college and hang out with him, sometimes it would end in you on your knees, showing him the gates of heaven and sometimes it would end innocently with the two of you cuddling and talking about anything and everything.

You have not taken the next step yet, it wasn't that he never asked you to, you just wanted him to be completely sure before doing that.

There was one more thing, you were scared. Scared to take the next step with him. What if after you have sex with him you become bored. You know you like him too much but still, you were scared to break his heart. He was too innocent for that, you can never live with yourself if you ever made him sad.

Right now you were sitting on his bed with a gaming console in your hand whining at the fact that Jungkook would let you win.

It wasn't that you were bad at playing video games, it was that Jungkook was too good, you watched at the boy with a pout as he defeated your team for the third time in a row.

"Oh my god, what are you not good at?"

"I'm going easy on you."

"Such a show off." You said, playfully rolling your eyes.

"Let's play a game that you are good at."

"Ummm... Lets play Tekken."

"Ok." He obliged before putting on the game that you demanded. "What does winner gets?" He asked and you raised your eyebrow.

"Whatever they want."

"Whatever?"

"Whatever."

"I was gonna let you win but not anymore."

"Nooo, don't be mean, go easy on me."

"You ready?" He asked and you nodded, eyes squinting at focus as you looked at the TV screen. Jungkook felt a strange kind of serenity when he looked at you. Nobody ever has been so quick to tear down his walls. You not only tore down his wall but also made a home inside.

Nobody knows you, not really. They wouldn't say those things if they did. You were sweet, kind, beautiful inside out. You were mot even a single thing that people described you to be. Quite the opposite.

"Oh my god you lost!" You exclaimed all of a sudden pulling him out of the train of his thoughts. "Oh my god, I can't believe I won, I Won."

You got up from the bed and started jumping around, if an outsider looked they would think you won a lottery and not just a video game.

"Wait, did you let me win?" You stopped jumping and stood in front of him with a not-so-threatening pout.

"What? No. I would never, you are just so good at it."

"Of course, I am." You mockingly brushed of your shoulders and Jungkook decided right there that he was in love with you. Maybe it was too soon, maybe you wouldn't reciprocate it but he was utterly and madly in love with you. And he doesn't care if you don't love him back, he would love enough for the both of you.

"Ok now what do I get?" He would honestly give you both his kidneys if you asked but you didn't. "I want you to give me piggy back ride tomorrow between all my classes." Your choice of demand made him laugh.

"That's it?"

"Yeah."

"Huh, i thought you would ask for my PlayStation."

"Oh my god, I could have right? I want to change my wish."

"No, no take backs."

*******

Jungkook's roommate left town for a while so you decided to take advantage of it and make dinner for the two of you. Jungkook helped you with chopping all the veggies.

"Are you sure this is how it supposed to look."

"Are you calling my shrimps ugly?"

The poor little animals have become a little black inside the frying pan but you were sure they would taste good.

"No, not ugly, they just don't look..."

"What? Edible? Fine, I'm gonna eat it all by myself, don't come begging for a piece if it tastes heavenly." You were so confident in your creation that it reminded him of that night when you made him that 'special cocktail' that tasted like piss but he didn't have the heart to tell you that.

You don't remember the last time you hung out with someone this long that too without any alcohol or weed, and yet it was the most fun you had in a while. Jungkook made you feel emotions you thought you had lost touch with. Even with Yoongi, you had never experienced this kind of pure bliss. He made you feel whole, like you didn’t need drugs or sex to fill any emptiness. With Jungkook, there’s no pressure to uphold a certain image or look flawless. You can simply be yourself, and it’s enough to make you feel truly happy.

As you served the forbidden looking dish on both of the plates he pulled out his phone to snap a picture. You couldn't help but smile, striking a playful pose for the camera. The photos turned out great—you looked flawless. The shrimp, however, was undeniably inedible. But of course, he’d never admit that.

You spat out the content of your mouth into the dustbin.

"Oh my god. EW. Stop eating it. Its so salty i feel like i gulped acid."

"I think it tastes fine." Jungkook said chewing the burnt fish.

"Spit it out."

In the end, you decided to order pizza, and despite your insistence, Jungkook insisted on paying for it. You both settled on his bed, enjoying the pizza while watching a new anime he had introduced you to.

Despite the screen in front of you flashing with gore and violence, you’d never felt as at peace as you did in that moment. With your stomach full and your head resting on his warm, bare chest, his fingers gently weaving through your hair, everything felt perfectly calm.

"Jungkook?" You asked, your voice laced with curiosity.

"Hmm?"

"Why were you so scared of me before?" Your question made him pause, now that he think of it he doesn't seem to know the answer. Sure he still remembers all those horrible things he heard and regrettably believed about you but he doesn't know why he used to be so scared of this sweetest girl he has ever met that he couldn't even form a sentence without stuttering. You have never personally been mean to Jungkook nor has he ever seen you do anything remotely as horrible as people say.

"I don't know."

"You don't know?"

"You were so pretty, and so far out of my league that maybe I thought it was a sin to just be in the same vicinity as you." His answer made you burst out laughing.

"What? Do you still believe that?"

"Do I believe that you are the prettiest girl I've ever seen? Yes."

"No do you still believe that I am out of your league and it is a sin to be with me?"

"Yes, if anyone in college finds out I'm cuddling with the __ __ they would sacrifice me."

"Stop joking, I'm serious. You can't think that I am out of your league or something."

"You are though."

"I am NOT."

"You could literally have any guy that you point your finger at."

"And here I am, laying in your bed, begging to suck your cock every other night." Your words made him twitch inside his boxers. "You are gorgeous, smart, funny and you make me feel so good, you can't possibly think that I am out of your league."

"You know, I used to... I used to think that you were asking me out to make fun of me." His confession made you laugh again.

"What? Really?"

"I mean... there was you and then there was me. I never thought I was your type. And I never really heard good things about you either"

"My god, people really think I'm the devil don't they?"

"Who cares what they think?"

"Hmm... What else did you hear about me?"

"Nothing that matters, what matters is who you really are. And you are the kindest and sweetest person ever and you give really good head." You burst out laughing again.

"Oh my god, you heard that as well?"

"Everyone did."

"Wow, I'm glad that we put that out of question."

The anime playing on the screen was long forgotten. The boy laying in your arms was far more interesting. You stared into each other's eyes for how long you don't really know, you know you can stare into them so much more longer.

*******

Making out with Jungkook felt like an habit now. You were currently laying under him in nothing but your underwear while the anime still plays in the background on mute.

No matter how many times you kiss him you can never not be surprised by how sweet his lips taste, just like him. His hands, gentle yet strong, groped every inch of your body like he was holding onto his life.

Jungkook pulled away from your lips, looking down at your body and a sudden fire burst through him. You were so beautiful that he couldn't get over the fact that you were under him. He must have done some really great work in his past life and he was now getting rewarded for it.

"What happed baby boy?" You ask pulling him out of his train of thougts.

"I want to please you."

"You are pleasing me."

"No... like you do it for me. I want to... I want to use my mouth." You smirked, it was always so cute when he stuttered.

"I don't understand, be more clear baby." You certainly do understand but it was so much fun teasing him.

"God, I want to eat you out, __. Can I?" Your words got lost in your throat so you nodded your head in affirmation.

Jungkook started kissing a very slow trail down your body make you almost die from anticipation. When his mouth finally came in contact with your bundle of nerves, your whole body started shivering.

"Oh god baby, that's right." His hand took yours and put it in his hair as if telling you to guide him. "Use your tongue." And like ever so obedient, he did.

His tongue was warm and even though it was his first time it felt very skillful. His tongue, licked up your juices in big and wide strokes. Pouty lips sucking in your clit every now and then.

"Now put a finger inside, baby." he followed your instruction almost immediately. Long thick finger sinking in your heat while his tongue licked you.

His other free hand went up to grab at your breast, squeezing and kneading the flesh and occasionally twisting your nipples.

With a last few rhythmic strokes of his tongue and finger you were cumming.

"I'm cumming, baby boy." Your words sounded like reward to his ears. His tongue out and mouth was open, ready to drink in everything that you were about to offer.

You have never squirted in your life and this boy who looks like, he has never even seen a pussy in his life just made you squirt in like 5 minutes. You wonder what more talents were he hiding.

"Come here, baby. I want you inside me." You said pulling him by his arms, closer to you. He was already so hard that your word made him feel like he was going to pop a vessel on his dick.

You changed your position and now he was under you while you pulled out a condom from your purse and rolled it on his cock without wasting another minute.

This scene in front of Jungkook was a little too familiar, he has dreamt of this exact moment only every other night ever since you started talking to him.

Your hands guiding his to your chest and you slowly sunk down on him, your warm pussy fitted his cock like a glove. Like they were made for each other. A loud whine left Jungkook's lips as soon as you settled on his dick.

"I've dreamt of this so many times." His arousal has turned off all his filters, his confession made you smirk.

"You did? SO naughty. And you dare to act like you are the most innocent guy on this planet."

"It was because of you, you make me think all those lewd things."

"Oh yeah? Did you touch yourself after waking up?" You asked as you slowly started jumping up and down in a perfect rhythm and his words got caught in his throat. "tell me, baby. Did you?"

"Yesss... Aghh fuckkk.. Everytime."

"Mhmm. God you feel so good. Was your hand as good as my pussy?"

"No, Noth-- Ahh.. Nothing compares to this. Your pussy is so good." He cried out in pleasure as both of your rode close to your orgasms.

"Tell me, baby. What else did you dream about?"

"I- I dreamt... About you riding my face."

"You would like that wouldn't you?"

"Please... I love your pussy so much."

"Rub my clit, Jungkook." Jungkook did as told and started rubbing your clit with his thumb.

"I'm about to cum." He cried out.

"Me too baby, just hold for a few seconds."

After a few more seconds of riding his heavenly dick you both were finally coming down from your high. Lips finding each others as soon as you were done. Your bodies seemed to have calmed down as you gave each other slow and deep kisses.

"Wow, that... That was the best sex I've ever had. And I'm not just saying it, Jungkook." Jungkook's face turned pink at the compliment. Honestly he never thought he would last this long if he ever had the chance to have sex with you. "Did you like it as well?" He was shy again all of a sudden.

"Yes. I would... I would like to do it again."

"Me too, baby me too, but lets get some sleep right now."

After you you both cleaned up and jumped into his bed, you realized how tired you became. Your eyes closed as soon as your head rested on his chest.

Once your breath turned even and you fell asleep, or Jungkook thought you fell asleep he pressed his lips against your forehead and gave you a kiss. A kiss that was a lot more meaningful then any kiss on the lips.

"I love you." He whispered, thinking you were fast asleep but you heard it. You heard as his breath became even as well and he fell deep into sleep.

For once you don't feel like you have to leave. You don't feel like you are out of place and you don't feel like you are incapable of love.

For once you don't want to get up in the morning and sneak out before he's awake, instead you want to stay over, you want to have breakfast with him. You want to sit on his counter as he cooks and you want to hear him say he loves you again.

Maybe you wouldn't say it back right now if he said it when you were awake but you like to believe that one day, very soon, you will also whisper it to him as he falls asleep.

*******

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featherandferns · 3 days ago

Text

teaser for my upcoming fic: sugar

feel free to ask me questions about it!!! we're all in mourning so here's some fluff non-canon season 4 jj x reader

content warnings: dr*g use; mentions of s*xual themes

“JJ, I mean it,” you say, your tone losing its humour now. You shoot him a look that you hope will put a pin in it. “We should talk about something else.”

“Alright, alright,” JJ surrenders, holding his hands up and all. He relaxes back against the plastic seat of the boat and you do the same. Your legs outstretch so you can rest your feet on the spot beside him. The two of you catch each other’s gaze and look away, chuckling bashfully like preteens. You take another hit of the joint and watch the smoke fizzle away into the night. “How’d you meet Mark, then?”

You glance at JJ. “A few months back. He’d just moved to Kildare and came by to The Stirring Spoon to help out, and we sort of hit it off.”

“He seems like a nice guy.”

“He is,” you smile. But it fades. The weed tickles at your emotions, pulling the wires as if to wreak havoc. JJ seems to take advantage.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” you lie. You take another hit and shake your head, plastering on a smile. “It’s nothing.”

Sighing, JJ folds his arms comfortably over his chest. “Y’know, just cause I know what you look like naked don’t mean we can’t be friends now.”

Barking out a laugh, you shake your head. “There was definitely a better way you could have put that.”

“Probably,” he shrugs, grinning, “but it’s true, ain’t it? We can be friends.”

“Of course we can. We are,” you emphasise.

“So…That means that if you wanna vent about Mr Loverboy to me, you can,” JJ offers.

Laughing, you rock your head back and gaze up at the sky. The stars are out. They shimmer white and crystal in the abyss of the night. “That’d be too weird, I think, but I’ll keep it in mind, thanks.”

“I just got one question. Just one.”

“Go on,” you reluctantly reply.

“Does he say ‘thank you’ after the two of you fuck?”

You burst into fits of laughter. It’s so sudden that it has you doubling over. Tears slip from your eyes and you wipe them away, looking at a grinning JJ. God, you missed him and his twisted sense of humour.

“He just looks like the kinda guy who would!”

“Oh my God, no!” you laugh, shaking your head. Catching your breath, you manage out, “no, he doesn’t say ‘thank you’.”

“Is he the sub then? Cause there is no way that guy is laying his hands on you without written permission.”

“JJ stop! I’m gonna pee myself!” you cackle, kicking your feet. JJ starts laughing too. You open your eyes and make out his face in the lowlight of the pier’s lamp. Wheezing, you catch your breath and calm yourself. “This is exactly what I was talking about.”

“I can give the guy pointers if he needs them,” JJ jokes. Your eyes nearly fall out of their sockets just at the idea though and you point at him in another warning.

“Don’t you dare!” you say, trying not to crack up again. “‘Sides, he doesn’t need pointers.”

“Everybody needs pointers,” JJ says with a roll of his eyes. “John B gave me one of the best pointers.”

“I find that impossible to believe,” you snort.

“He did! It was a tip for kissing. Works like a fucking charm too, I’m telling ya.”

“Mhm, I’ll bet,” you sarcastically return. You glance at the joint to check if it needs tapping off, take another drag, and then look up to find JJ watching you. He hasn’t changed enough for you to forget what that expression means.

“You want me to show you?”

“Show me? How?” you say with furrowed brows. Something in the air shifts with your question. An unspoken thing, an unseeable thing, but something nonetheless. A nervous tickle comes to your throat.

JJ doesn’t reply but he slowly leans over the seat towards you. Your breath catches in your lungs the moment he enters your bubble, breaking some unspoken barrier, and your smile fades away like day into night. You feel as though you’re stuck in place, plastered to the seat, and you’re ashamed to admit that you don’t hate that you are. You’re ashamed that you’re not pushing him away, telling him to buzz off, laughing at his idiocy. You’re ashamed that you’re curious as to what he’s going to do next.

JJ’s close enough now that you can smell him. His cologne mixed with something sweet but tangy, like seasalt and citrus. Something masculine underneath, that has a primal instinct inside of you wanting to claw its way out. Your fingers grip the edge of the seat instead. Your eyes stare into his. You study the laps of green and grey in the sea of blue, mesmerised in the way the night sky reflects in the iris. His gaze darts down to your lips and you have no idea how this happened and how you got here, and everything is blurry but so, so clear from the cannabis as he leans forward, and you can’t move but you should move and you want to move but you don’t, you never want to move again, as his lips brush against yours just so, just enough for you to know that they have, that he has, that he’s real, but that he hasn’t, and that you can take it all back, and that it doesn’t count and it shouldn’t and you shouldn’t but–

#coming soon #obx 4 #outerbanks 4 #outer banks 4 #outerbanks #outer banks #obx #jj x reader #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank #jj #jj drabble #jj maybank drabble #jj one shot #jj fic #jj maybank one shot #jj maybank fic #teaser #obx fic

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clemswinecorner · 2 days ago

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Datenight [George Clarkey]

Summary: George and Y/N go on a date, without any of their friends knowing they're dating. Or do some of them?

Wordcount: 1k

Warnings: sexual innuendos and alcohol, other than that it's fine

Based on this request, as a response to neat :)

Main Masterlist

It wasn’t the first time they were out in public for a date, and they were close enough friends for it to not be seen as one. It was, however, the first time they were out in Central London, where any of their friends could decide to go to the exact restaurant they were sitting in the corner of.

“I’m glad we’re doing this. That we’re able to just have some time together, going out, that we can have dinner together,” she says, looking at the man in front of her. “Well, I’d hope so, it’d be unfortunate if we went to dinner and we couldn’t eat,” he jokes, making her roll her eyes with a fond smile. “You know what I mean. I’m really happy to be with you,” she just says, making him smile. He reaches over, their hands on top of each other on the table. His thumb softly grazes her hand. “I’m really happy to be with you, too.”

They spend their first and second courses simply talking, joking around, looking at each other. Of course, it wasn’t a date night without some shameless flirting. George looked extremely handsome in his black button-up, and god, the short sleeves made his arms look extremely good. She had to keep herself from looking at them, the same way George had to remind himself not to stare too long. She was wearing a tight-fitting, white, off-shoulder top, and god, he wants her to never wear anything else ever again.

As they were waiting for their dessert, their cheeks were a bit flushed from the wine as they giggled together. George lets out a content sigh, leaning back to look at her. “You know, I know I don’t say it a lot, but you’re an incredible person. A good shag too, if I may say so myself,” he jokes, making her giggle again as his expression softens. “Seriously, though. I’m really glad this is working out for us, you’re one of the best things to happen to me,” he quietly admits. She smiles at him, taking his hand that’s resting on the table. “I’m really glad, too, George. I wouldn’t want to be here with anyone else,” she says, making a small smile appear on his face as he shyly looks down. A comfortable silence falls over them, the couple simply enjoying each other’s company and the shared feelings between them. “I’m staying at yours, right?” She breaks the silence right as dessert is served. They both thank the waiter before continuing their conversation, “Yeah, the boys went out and would stay at Arthur’s, they said, telling me I’ll have the house to myself after ten,” George answers, grabbing his phone as she nods. “This looks so good. So you’re telling me we could've had a cosy night in without the boys?” She teases opening the camera app. She looks up to find George’s pointed at her. “What?!” George laughs at her reaction, “Just capturing your love for food. You look good, you look pretty. Happy.” She blushes at his comment, reluctantly taking a picture of her plate. “Which one did you get again?” She asks, looking over. “Uh, the crème brûlée,” he says, as she takes another picture of both plates together, commenting how good it looks. He smiles, looking at her adoringly, before briefly glancing out the window to the busy streets. She furrows her eyebrows as he sits up straighter, “Is that Arthur?!” She turns around, not immediately spotting the singer but recognizing the head of curls next to him. “Oh my god, yeah, they’re here. Should I go to the bathroom and you text me when they’re gone? I have to go anyway,” she says, already standing up. George nods, still with a confused look on his face. “Yeah, yeah, I’ll text.”

It takes less than five minutes before she gets back. “Any of them realise we were here?” She asks, pushing back her chair to sit down again. He shakes his head, taking his glass of water in his hand. “Maybe Arthur, he was looking in, but I don’t think Chris or TV saw me,” he twirls his drink before taking a sip. She looks at him thoughtfully. “Hey, if you want to tell them, that’s fine with me, you know that right?” He immediately nods. “Yeah, yeah, I know. I want to, eventually, but I’m keeping you to myself for just a while longer,” she smiles at him, as he looks around again. “Oh god, I just realised… They already think I’m on a fucking date,” George suddenly says. “Well you are, with me.” He chuckles at her comment, “Yeah, but they don’t know that! I won’t hear the end of it,” he groans, making her laugh along with him. “You’ll be fine. Are we finally going to eat this? I want a bite of yours.”

It’s nearly midnight by the time they walk back to George’s. They’d spend a little while more drinking the last of their wine, conversation flowing effortlessly. With the alcohol, the giggling, flirting and touching all increase, and they’re walking back leaning against each other, fingers laced together. “I’m glad we have the flat to ourselves, it’d be a long night if I had to go spend the night by myself,” George whispers, kissing her cheek. She giggles, turning to look him in the eye. “Hmm. Luckily we don’t have to think about that, because I’ll be yours tonight and every other moment of the day for the foreseeable future,” George giggles along, pulling them to stop. They giggle as he kisses her, their bodies completely together, almost forgetting where they are. She innocently smiles at him, “C’mon, let’s get to yours,” she whispers. When they arrive, they quickly make their way to George’s bedroom, too indulged by each other to think about anything else. Their phones are completely disregarded on his bedside table, neither of them looking at it until later that morning. George checks his texts for the first time as Y/N is doing her morning routine after their shower, to see one from his roommate.

From: Arthur Hill

saw you and y/n having dinner last night, looking cosy ;) swayed arthur and chris the other way, they don’t have a clue. happy for you two, george. x

#george clarkey #george clarke #george clarke fics #george clarke fluff #george clarkey x reader #george clarke x reader #george clarkey fic #british youtubers #imagines #fluff #smut #uk youtubers

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ghostyeyestohide · 3 days ago

Text

Just The T(hree)wo of Us

(I Put A Spell On You Part 3)

Pairing: Terrance (Foe) x Valerie (Plus Size Black Fem OC) x Junior (Foe) x Hen (Foe)

Warnings: SMUT, 18+ (MINORS, SCROLL AWAY), buildup (if you got the attention span of a squirrel, DONT READ), threesome, bxb, oral sex (f receiving, m receiving), titty sucking/fondling, bisexuality (from m and slightly, non-sexual from f), deepthroat (m and f), smoking, double vag penetration, masturbation, choking, ass eating , some femdom, some masdom, grinding, some slapping, dirty talk, praise kink, hair pulling, creampie (Terrance to Valerie), voyeurism, cussing, aftercare, drinking, drunk/high behavior, some jealousy, some angst, mentioning of upbringing (how they met), mentions of sexual harassment, mention of blood, and Non-Canon/Canon.

Parts: Part One • Part Two

Summary: After eating dinner, dancing with each other, and putting Hen in bed to rest from her drunkness, the remaining trio spend time together when things take a steamy turn.

A/N: It’s here. My version of the perfect threesome that should’ve happened for Foe. This was the one I was looking the most forward to because literally, despite the ever-growing homoeroticism tension between the men (which anyone who watched or read this felt) and just the chemistry we got between Aaron, Paul, and Saoirse, we got nothing. I felt like we got blue balls because how do you film that and not give us the gay shit or the bi shit? Also, some of the scientific things in here might be confusing, but this is a fanfiction after all. Hope y’all enjoy it!

🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲

do not copy or repost my work. I do not authorize it.

🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲

The couples eat quietly at the table, saying a few words to each other. A few quick glances, drinking some of their wine, some laughter, and utensils move around.

Junior sips his wine as he looks at Valerie, clearing his throat.

“So. Valerie.” he says, making her look at him.

“Yes?”

“I know this is your last night here and we do appreciate you for staying with us in our home, even if we didn’t make you feel like it. But, we were wondering…”

“How did you two meet?” asks Hen, butting in.

“Me and…”

“Terrance.”

“Oh! I thought you meant me and your husband! Got a little worried there.” she said, making everyone laughing.

She clearly her throat as she looked at Terrance, who was patiently waiting for her to tell it.

“Well. What’s a romantic story without a sad background, right?” she smiled a little, grabbing his hand to hold as everyone nodded.

“I’m originally from New York, as you can tell since this gorgeous man is very British.” she chucked. “But yeah. I was born there, but I’m not sure whether I was born in a hospital or on the streets because from what they told me, I was abandoned a few hours later in Inwood Hill Park.” she added.

“Oh my god.” said Hen, clutching her chest.

As she was about to speak again, Valerie feels her chest heating up, causing her to gently rub it.

“You okay?” asked Terrance.

“Mmhm. I just feel a little funny when I tell this story.”

“We can stop if you want.”

“No, no. It’s okay.” she said, squeezing his hand. “But, because they couldn’t find my parents, specifically my mother, I was placed in foster care. Not that I have an interest in finding them now cause I really don’t care. I bounced around a lot growing up. Some years, I was in Washington Heights. Other years, Harlem. And for the last three years of high school, Jamaica. A neighborhood in Queens, not the country, in case you got confused. But, because of this, my grades weren’t that great, but I still managed to pass for the year and that was fine with me. I knew I wasn’t going to college not because I couldn’t afford it, but I didn’t really think I had a future.”

She takes a sip of her wine as she carefully grabs one of Terrance’s hands and place it under her stomach, signaling to keep it eye on it.

“I was also picked on a lot for how I looked. Classmates, friends, roommates, even strangers. Same story you probably heard about any plus size person getting told about their health, compared to animals, statues, cars, food, even books. But that wasn’t bothering me as I got older. It was when they were saying no one was gonna love someone like me, no wonder your people abandoned you, you’re a failure, and like those kind of mean things. That’s like something you can’t get really get rid of and you just gotta hide it in your face or they’re gonna think you’re weak, even if you know that’s not true. As soon as I turned 18, I noticed I started getting treated differently.”

“You did something good?” asked Junior.

She shakes her before taking another sip, feeling the sensation growing a bit, making her feel a bit uneasy.

“Maybe I shouldn’t drink more of that.” she mumbled, pushing her glass towards Terrance, who takes it.

“Did you wanna change your…” he asked, signaling her tab.

“Mmm. Not yet. It’s not….messing with me.” she replied before clearing her throat. “Sorry, where was I? Oh right. When you become legal, I guess most men start paying attention? I mean, I was always getting that, but always rejected it since I was underage and didn’t want to deal with an older boyfriend like some girls unfortunately get groomed into doing. I had a boyfriend who was treating well until he felt like he can do better and just abandoned me. And of course, it was getting worse as I was getting harassed, stalked, and degraded almost every day that I had to quit so many jobs so I can avoid it. Of course, this was annoying my group home a lot since they felt like I was lazy when I’m just protecting myself?”

The sensation began winding down as she shifted in a her seat, fixing her posture.

“This went on until three months before my 21st birthday. The day after I quit another job, my friend told me that this post Columbia graduation party was looking for waitresses to serve drinks, offering $7.50 per hour + tips to work, as long as you were 21 and above. I declined because I wasn’t that age and of course, she knew I was gonna say that because she immediately pulled out a fake I.D. with my face and fake information on there. So now, I can’t say no!” she said, making everyone laugh.

“Oh, you sound like you loved trouble.” said Hen, smiling at her.

“Hen!” said Junior, irritated at her comment.

“It’s okay, she’s not wrong. It’s New York after all. Hope y’all get to visit one day.” said Valerie as she took a sip of her water.

“We get to the party, dressed in our black tie, white dress shirt, black slacks, and black shoes uniform. It was starting off fine because everyone was behaving well, socializing, congratulating each other, you know, just being proud of finishing their degree. But like three hours later, almost everyone is torn up. Like, once all of the adults and responsible people left, the hard drinking, dancing, making out, joking around shit started. It was slightly getting bad that we had to secretly switch the alcohol out with water so we weren’t responsible for anything that happens.” she continued.

“I went on break finally. And as I was sitting in an area where we were allowed, this group of drunken male graduates came up to me. I already knew what the hell was about to happen, so I was preparing to get away. The ringleader, as I like to call him, started harassing me and was like show your tits, I’ll pay you a $1000 to see em and was waving the money in my face. I almost gave in, but I knew better, so I said no and got up to leave, but his friend immediately shoves me back into seat, hovering over me. They beginning degrading me, saying I’m just a big bitch who shouldn’t have standards since I’m not worthy, probably waiting until someone richer than them picks me, and basically the I’m a nice guy monologue that Hen would probably know so many different versions of.” she said, looking at her.

“Oh, please. We’ll be here all night.” she replies.

“See! She knows the feeling. As I’m getting bombarded….this tall, beautiful guy comes up, cursing them out. Telling them to fuck off, you don’t wanna try me, I’ll whoop your ass in what I thought was very old New Yorker accent and they went finally away, ending the tormenting.”

“I can’t believe you really thought I was from there.” said Terrance, gently pulling her into him.

“I mean, you did sound like you could’ve been raised in Hyde Park, but then again, it was late. But, he made sure I was okay, ask what was my name and we talked for very long time, very into everything I was saying. How he was from South London, was on a scholarship here, and now, just got his bachelor’s in bioinformatics, with a minor in space studies. Which told me he was the real deal. And he was starting at OuterMore very soon, working on the then-developing living in space program. Then I got kicked out.”

“What?” said Hen.

“Why?” asked Junior.

“The guys complained and I was late from my break. So, I didn’t get paid. However, he came out, apologized for what happened and walked me home. He paid more than what I was suppose to get, but I didn’t want to take it at first. Kept telling him I wasn’t one of those girls, but he reassured that he knew that, giving me his number to call him.” she said, rubbing his face.

“She was very nervous. I guess she was worried I was wasting her time, just trying to smash and go like they were calling it, but I wasn’t. Most of the women I’ve dated had everything they worked that most successful men were looking to have on their arm. But me? I was just looking for someone that will make me happy, regardless of what they brought to the table. We went on a few dates to places she never been to, went shopping for new clothes, took her to do things she always wanted to do. All to see her smile, feeling the love that she always wanted.” said Terrance, rubbing her side.

They both looked at Hen and Junior, who were connecting very closely to the story they’re hearing, sitting closer to each other.

“I can remember the day I moved out of my group home. Or, should I say, kicked out. They were upset that I was, once again, seeing Terrance for another date instead of getting another job that I got accused of being his sugar baby, which didn’t make sense as Terrance is only three months older than me. So, I fought one of them.” she said, laughing at the last part.

“She called me crying, telling me what had happened and I told her she can’t stay there much longer. So, I drove over there as fast as I could and helped her move everything she owned into the car. She got her file, which had her birth certificate, social security card, and other documents that were very important and we left.”

“Were they fawning over you when you arrived?” asked Hen.

He scoffs, rolling his eyes.

“…it was fucking pathetic, Hen. Really. I told her not to hang up as she was packing whatever she could while I was on my way, and the whole time, they were insulting her. Saying the most disrespectful things over an assumption they made. But when I showed up, the energy changed. Oh wow, you’re cute, this is the guy Val’s been seeing?, you don’t need her, you need me like absolutely pathetic.”

“I moved into his place and we stayed in, order some Indian for take out. While we were eating, he asked me what do I see myself doing if this relationship went further, saying it’s okay to be honest….so I told him the truth. I didn’t want to work at all. I just wanted to be a stay-at-home wife and mom, taking care of the house, cooking since that’s what I like to do, cleaning if its needed, crocheting, reading, just being home while he worked. And, I broke down crying, feeling like I wasn’t the girl he wanted to be with since I have nothing remotely close to his achievements to offer. But instead of confirming it, he kissed me, saying he didn’t care about me not having shit. He just cared about being in love with me and bringing me along his journey with OuterMore.” she smiled, eyes begin tearing up.

“About three days later, I got a call from my supervisor. He said he wanted me to begin working with them as an agent immediately instead of continuing to be their associate, being impressed with the work in my portfolio. After I accepted the offer, I went to this jewelry store she liked and bought her dream engagement ring.” he said, looking at her and the ring on her left hand.

“He proposed to me at Inwood Hill a few hours later. Saying after six months of dating, listening to my past for hours, and thinking about the future I see for us, he decided that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with me, wanting to take care of me and our family. I said yes, obviously. Then, that Thursday of the week, after buying our wedding bands, we eloped at a courthouse in lower Manhattan. I wore this creamy silk dress with a white fur sleeve, sparkly white pumps, natural makeup, a side part that the Hollywood Divas had, a red lip, and matching diamond choker and earrings. With these gorgeous red buds as my bouquet.” she says, staring into the distance.

“And I wore a black suit and black shoes, not wanting to outshine her.” he adds, making them both laugh.

“We went to Miami for our honeymoon. Had so much fun being in the sun and going to salsa clubs. Then, we headed Cleveland, where he started the work on the program.”

“And now here we are. 8 years later.”

“Still going strong.” she said, hold her hand up to look at her engagement and wedding ring.

Terrance smiled, gently placing his hand with his band over hers. Hen watched them, fascinated by their love story while Junior looked at them with a puzzled look on him face.

“Is there a reason you haven’t welcomed a baby yet?” he asked, skepticism filling his voice.

Terrance sends a glare, stiffening up. Valerie looks at Junior, panicking in silent as she fights the urge to not reveal her true self. She squeezes his hand, hoping to calm down.

“I work too much.” said Terrance, relaxing his jaw. “I always wanted to have kids when we are ready. But, because I’m too focused on my assignments, I don’t wanna bring in babies if I’m not gonna be there for them. Or her.”

“Well. I hope you do have some. You two would be amazing parents.” said Junior before he gets up and walks out, stunning everyone.

“….did you say something wrong?” said Valerie, finally calming down.

“No. Let him be. He’s probably going back to his old self slowly. Which is normal for replicas to do when the real one is coming back.” said Terrance, looking down.

“I wanna apologize about what I said to you yesterday, Valerie. I shouldn’t have assumed that you were using him when I was just reacting negatively to how both of you loving each other while….me and him can’t do the same. What I said came from a place of hate and I’m sorry that I even said it.” said Hen, with an apologetic look in her eyes.

“…I accept your apology. But let me just tell you this as a way for you to understand: if it can’t get fixed after it’s broken….just let it go.” said Valerie, sending a small smile to her.

Hen nods shakily, understanding what she meant by that. Valerie wipes her face before standing up, fixing herself.

“Dinner was delicious, but Ima go change before I eat some of my cake. Don’t be greedy while I’m gone.” she said, kissing Terrance’s forehead before heading towards the stairs.

“Baby, wait.” he mumbles, following her.

“Hm?” she says, turning around to face him.

He steps closer, wrapping his hands around her waist, before placing a long, sweet kiss on her lips. She wraps her hands around his neck, kissing him back. She breaks it, catching her breath as he smiled, resting his chin on her head.

“Just because I’m in your embrace, it doesn’t mean you’re off the hook. Well, at least not yet. Understand?” she says, letting go of him.

“Yes, ma’am.”’ he replied quietly, watching her walk up the stairs.

“….you really do love her.” said Hen.

“She’s all I have. And I’m all she has.” he responds, walking back into the dining room, and picking up their plates before heading to the kitchen. Hen takes a swigs of her wine before getting up to do the same thing.

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Changing out of her dress to a black, silky wrap dress that enhances her chest by pushing them up, she stands in front of the bathroom mirror, taking in her beauty.

Looking down, she unzips a black pouch and opens it up. Inside, its holds full and empty tabs: mini bullet shaped tablets, covered in the ‘OuterMore’ logo and serial numbers, that holds a light green liquid, specialized to keep her up and running without ever going bad. She changes it monthly since that’s how long it lasts, getting a yearly supply.

Picking up her magnetic tool, she places it on her upper left tricep, watching it connect to a spot, which lights up a glowing, white ‘OuterMore’ circular logo before it opens, sticking out a bloody covered empty tab. Using a cotton pad, she pulls it, disconnecting it from its hold. feeling the pressure releasing. Picking up a new one, she groans as she inserts it, feeling it connect before the circle sucks it, closing it.

Afterwards, she cleans the empty tab before placing it in the pouch and zipping it, washing her hands before walking out of the bathroom. After closing the door, she turns to head back down, but is stopped as Junior stands in front of her, leaning against the wall. She puffs, giving him a stern look.

“Whatever you’re about to say, I don’t wanna hear it.” she states as she turns.

Junior grabs her arm, gently pulling back and pinning her against the door. He steps into her space, breathing hard.

“If you mention it to Hen, I swear….”

“You swear to what? You’re gonna hurt me? Reveal that I got turned on by you watching us fuck like an audience member watching a play? Because he already knows and if anything, it makes him want you even more.” she said, tracing over his face.

Junior, alarmed by her reaction, steps back slowly. She smiles evilly, leaning forward.

“This isn’t over. This is just the beginning.” she whispered, glaring at him before heading downstairs.

Junior leaned against the wall, trying to figure out what she was meant by that.

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Junior walks into the kitchen and grabs a beer. As he grabs a seat in the dining room, he overhears a song playing in the living room.

He looks and sees Hen sitting on the edge with a glass of wine as Valerie was eating some of her cake. They were watching Terrance, smoking and drinking, walk around the room as he began to recite the lyrics of the song playing:

I did not become someone different

That I did not want to be, as he walks to where Junior was watching, smoking his blunt before blowing the smoke out and putting up his fist.

But I'm new here

Will you show me around?, he said, looking at both Hen and Valerie.

“Maybe.” Hen replies in a flirty way.

“Watch it.” said Valerie, looking at her. Hen throws her hands up in a surrendering way as Terrance starts walking towards them slowly.

No matter how far wrong you've gone, he says, posing in front of them.

You can always turn around, as he nods with the blunt positioned in front of him, making all of them laugh as he takes another hit.

Met a woman in a bar, as he blows out the smoke and takes a seat between the women, sitting slightly closer to Hen.

Told her I was hard to get to know, as Junior walks in, taking a seat in one of the chairs across from the trio.

And near impossible to forget, as Valerie looks at him.

She said I had an ego on me, as Terrance leans in her space.

The size of Texas, as he kisses her neck, surprising her, who hits him in his chest, making him and Hen laugh.

Valerie grabs his wrist with the blunt, hits it, and blows in face before kissing him passionately, both fighting for control before she breaks it, chuckling on his shoulder. He smiles as he leans near Hen, who is slowly getting even more drunk as Junior watches, having an invidious look on his face.

“Ready?” asked Terrance.

No matter how far wrong you've gone, as him and Hen sang, with the latter mumbling it.

“Yeah..go..1, 2, 3, 4.” he whispered, holding an invisible microphone in front of her.

You can always turn around, as the trio sang happily, smiling and giggling.

“Wow, we’re all fucked.” said Valerie as she nibbled on her slice.

Terrance lets out a laugh as he places his glass on the table before leaning back and smoking. Valerie sips some of her wine as she gently rubs his thigh, making him send her a lustful look.

And I'm shedding plates like a snake, as Hen gets up, placing her glass on the table.

She does a playful hissing and snake hand motion towards Junior, who gets up to get away, but she pulls him back, begging him to stay. They spin for a moment as Valerie and Terrance, now laid out on the couch, watches.

“That’s it, man!” said a gleeful Terrance as Hen begins to kiss on Junior’s neck, making him blush. He looks at Valerie with an itch in his eye before leaning close to Hen’s ear, face dropping.

“I don’t want you two talking about me anymore.” he says loudly, but Hen ignores, still rubbing and kissing on him.

Terrance chuckles as Valerie watches with pity, feeling very bad for Hen in this moment. Junior begins kissing back, but she slowly begins to pull away, mood becoming sour.

“Hey, that’s it! That’s the spirit!” said Terrance, not understanding what’s going on as his eyes are half closed.

“Don’t make this even worse, baby.” said Valerie, sipping more.

Hen angrily walks off, leaving Junior alone with his embarrassment. She goes to their music box in the dining room and cuts the song abruptly, snapping Terrance out of it.

“….what happen?” he asks, looking at Junior, who looks back at him.

“Your hardheaded subject is a fucking mood killer.” said Valerie as she got up with her glass, walking to where Hen was.

Terrance watches her in a confused manner as Junior stood there, said nothing. In the dining room, Hen is finding the next song as Valerie appears next to her.

“Hey. Are you okay?” she asks, placing her hand on her shoulder.

“I’ll be fine. He’s just cranky.” said Hen, still searching.

“You have got to stop excusing him, Hen.”

“Val, please. I don’t wanna…”

“Just find the song.” she said, slowly becoming irritated.

After a few more minutes of searching, she finds the song, pressing play on it:

“Oh, I love this song here!” Valerie exclaims, slowly moving to the beat.

Hen walks to where the wine bottle was, pouring the remaining inside her glass, and drinking it. She joins Val, dancing along to the beat.

“What happen?” Terrance asked again, looking at Junior, who is also dancing slowly.

“Ah, fuck it.” he replied.

“You didn’t like us singing?”

“No.”

Terrance lets out a laugh as Junior continues dancing, not paying him no mind.

“Oh, you’re in for a good time.” he mumbled, drinking out of his glass.

The women begin dancing with each other, doing a couple’s routine.

The boy could sing, knew how to move, everything, as they spanned.

Always wanting more, he'd leave you longing for, as they dipped.

Black velvet and that little boy's smile, as they sang.

Black velvet with that slow southern style, as they span again.

A new religion that'll bring ya to your knees, as Valerie turns Hen forward, bringing her close and places her hands on her hips.

Black velvet if you please, as they grinded slowly into a semi-squat, surprising Hen.

“Oh, so you get down like this?” she asked, standing up with her. Valerie laughed, gently moving them back and forth.

“Only if the men stopped dancing. Or if I’m attracted to you.” she replied, turning her around to face her.

Hen makes a giddy expression, wrapping her hands around her neck.

“So you’re saying I have a chance?” she asked curiously, making both of them smile.

“That’s only if you actually want to be with a woman. And based on everything I know about you, you don’t have it.” she replied, spinning them around as Hen gasped.

The way he moved, it was a sin, so sweet and true, as they span.

Always wanting more, he'd leave you longing for, as they dipped.

Black velvet and that little boy's smile, as they sang, off-key this time.

Black velvet with that slow southern style, as they span again.

A new religion that'll bring ya to your knees, as Hen turns Valerie forward, bringing her close and slowly creeping her hand around her neck

Black velvet if you please, as they grinded slowly into a semi-squat, with her gently squeezing it, making Valerie smirk.

“Liked the response, but you’re still not selling it.” she said, causing Hen to scoff as both women laugh.

Suddenly, they hear someone clear their throat. As they looked up, they see Junior leaned against the frame, staring at them with an exasperated look. Hen, scared of what he’ll do, steps back but falls after her dress catches the ledge of the chair.

“Ow!” she yelps.

“Wow! Two in a row for mood killing, Junior.” said Valerie as she kneels to help her.

“Oh, don’t act like you wasn’t just grinding on her!” he yells, now angry.

“It’s called dancing with each other to the vibe of the song, which sounds like you don’t quite understand!” she said, helping Hen up.

Hen groans, rubbing her head. Junior rolls his eyes, not saying anything before walking into the kitchen.

“I think I’m done for the night.” she mumbled, now sleepily.

“Want me to help you to bed?” asked Valerie.

Hen nods, putting her arm around her waist as she does the same. They began walking, passing Junior on the way out as Valerie looks at Terrance.

“Baby, can you be a good boy and bring Hen a slice of the cake, maybe two ibuprofens, and a glass of water?” she asks as they head up.

“Yeah. I’ll be up in a second.” said Terrance, getting up to walk to the kitchen.

Junior, drinking another beer, watches Terrance take out a plate and slicing a piece of the cake, plating it before grabbing a glass and filling it with water from the pitcher. Placing the glass near the plate, he examines the cabinet until he find the ibuprofen bottle and shakes out two pills, placing them on the plate.

“You’re fine with your wife dancing on mines like that?” Junior asks, breaking the silence.

“We been kissing behind their backs for months.”

“So? That doesn’t make it okay.”

“I guess you two are almost even.” he replies, grabbing the plate and glass, walking towards the stairs.

“And I’m suppose to carry on while you’re not even mad?!”

“Junior.” he says, turning to look at him. “She’s attracted to women. Always has been. I know her type. Hen’s not one of them.”

He continues walking, with Junior’s tensive gaze following him.

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Gently placing Hen in bed, Valerie moves over to let Terrance place the glass and plate on the nightstand before he goes out, closing the door behind him.

“Alright. When you wake up in the morning, you take at least one pill. If it’s even worse, take both. Eat some of the cake when you keep waking up. Helps with the nausea.” she said, placing the cover over Hen as the latter watches.

She gently traces over Valerie’s chest, making her breathe steady before removing her hands away. She leans forward, gently pushing Hen’s hair back.

“Hen. Don’t get me wrong, you are a beautiful woman. But, I know this is not what you truly want. You’re just doing this to get back at him for what he did tonight. Or you’re scared of the real Junior not meeting your needs when he comes home. Remember what I told you to do.” she states, looking at her.

She kisses her hands before getting up, walking to the door.

“…I don’t want him to go!” Hen cries out, sniffling.

Valerie sighs, turning to look at her.

“Then spend enough time with him tomorrow. At least you get an extra day alone with him. Try to treasure your memories before they take him.”

“And you feel nothing? Not even a bad feeling?”

“Like I said…..I’m used to it….I’m used to everything.”

She stood there, thinking about everything she’s witnessed since becoming a life long replica of Valerie. While there’s always the good moments, the bad ones seem to be the ones that stay in her mind as they shut them off after their final goodbye.

“Good night, Valerie.” said Hen, slowly closing her eyes.

“Good night, Hen.” she replied, walking out the door.

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As Valerie walks to her room, the door of the room, that Junior and Terrance were in earlier, opens. Terrance pops out, looking at her.

“Hey.” he says.

“Hey.” she says, smiling a little.

“Did you want to come and sit as I examine Junior?”

“Examine? Ain’t it a little too late for that?”

“Yeah, but……he seems a little…..tense. And I think you and I can help him with that.” he says, gently pulling her close.

“….are you insane? I thought you wouldn’t violate your policy, putting all of us in jeopardy!” she said, pushing him back. He laughs, pulling her back.

“We can erase it. It’s not hard and only takes 30 minutes. I can do it tomorrow after I take you home. Plus…”

He trails off as he places kisses on her neck, making her tense up, heat rising all over her.

“You admitted to him watching us. So Why. Don’t. We. Punish. Him?” he says in between kisses as he rubs her breasts.

Valerie laughs, moaning quietly as she rubs Terrance’s length through his pants while looking at a very shirtless, drunk Junior, who’s facing the wall, back towards them.

“Fine. As long as I’m in control.” she replied, walking into room.

“Always.” he whispers, closing the door behind him, which startles Junior.

“What the fuck, man?” he asked, turning to look at him.

He stops, looking at Valerie, who winks at him before taking a seat on the bed. Terrance walks over to a box, retrieving a small device dot as he turns on the control system, which detects breathing, water intake, and heartbeating.

“Valerie is going to sit in if that’s okay.” he says, looking at Junior.

“Yeah. That’s fine.” he replied, still looking at her.

Terrance walks over, standing on his right as he turns him forward while Valerie lays across the bed.

“Hold your arm up like this.” he says, gently lifting Junior’s arm up.

“Have you two been drinkinnnng?” he asks drunkly, holding the arm up.

“I think we all been drinking.” replied Valerie, making all three of them laugh.

Terrance places the dot on his armpit, looking at him while pressing it down to seal it. Junior looks at him, a glare in his eyes as Valerie watches.

“Is something bothering you?” he asks.

“Mmmm.” as he shakes his head.

“…I can feel it in you.”

“No….its more like an awakening.” he replied, lifting his left arm up.

Terrance nods, removing his hands as he turned to grab his glass of wine off the nightstand, walking back to the box as he signals Valerie to ask the next question on the paper next to her.

“And how has this awakening affected Hen?” she asks, making him turn to look at her in a discreetly manner.

He laughs, letting out a strange sound as Terrance watches.

“….are you working with OuterMore too?” he asks.

“What makes you think that?”

“Asking questions about Hen. Suddenly showing concern for her? Was that story you were telling earlier planned? Did he tell you to do that?”

“Oh yes. I faked everything for sympathy, especially for the one who’s trying to save their marriage.” she replied sarcastically, making Terrance laugh.

“You’re fucking sick. Him being here and asking questions about her is sick, you’re being okay with it—“

“Back at square one.” she mumbled.

“Everything is just fucking sick with you two.”

“Look, she was just wondering as it’s apart of the questions. You don’t have to be rude about it.” said Terrance as he places a bracelet on Junior’s left wrist.

“What is that?!” he says, looking at it.

“It monitors your hydration. Does she tells you what she likes?” he asks, handing Valerie a glass of water.

Junior looks at him, very confused about the question as Valerie scoots to lay against the railing, retrieving the water.

“…what’s that?”

Valerie chuckles, sipping her water as she knows where her husband is going with this.

“…your wife, Junior. Is she open and honest with her preferences?” asks Terrance, who’s voice goes a little deep.

“About what?”

“Come on…you know….fucking.” he replies with a delicious lustful tone on the last word.

Valerie groans a bit, slightly becoming aroused by his questioning as Junior, who is slowly becoming annoyed but turned on, stares at him.

“Is she explicit about what she likes?”

“You’re sick.” said Junior.

“What she needs.”

“Fuck you.” he said, giggling as Terrance continued.

“Every relationship depends on open and honest communication, you know that.” he says as he sits down in his chair.

“Oh, fuck you.”

“He’s not hearing it at all.” said Valerie, now rubbing her leg.

“It’s fine. Its fine. It’s just a conversation.” he says, giggling along with Junior, who now stares at the both of them.

Junior slowly gets up from his chair, turning it to face forward, before sitting down, keeping an intense glare on Terrance, who matches his energy.

“..do you enjoy playing with us?” asks Junior.

“People fascinate me. You-you two fascinate me.” said Terrance, looking at Valerie, who is now sitting forward.

“Is that how you keep your marriage alive?”

“….I listen to her preferences. Her needs. Her orders. Even if she doesn’t say it explicitly.” he replied, not taking his eyes off her.

“Oh. So you’re not the one in control.”

“Never was. And he wanted it that way.” said Valerie, getting up.

“Oh really?”

She nodded, gently tracing Terrance’s arms as she slowly walked around him, making him lick his lips.

“He was bored of being in control while making love, felt like it should be an equal thing that shouldn’t be looked down on. So, I asked him what did want me to do.” she says as she stands in front of him, facing Junior.

“….what did he say?”

“Bark orders. Tell him what to do, choke him, tease him, slap him, punish him, was into degrading until I got a little uncomfortable, and my favorite: denying him of release.” she says as she sits on his lap, feeling his length poking at her.

“Does he know you like being watched like a fucking whore would?” he asks, looking at the both of them.

Valerie chuckles as she begins kissing Terrance, grinding against his length, which makes him let out a few groans. Junior looks away, moving his hands to cover his now growing length. Terrance breaks the kiss, looking at him.

“She already admitted that when she told me you were there the night I was fucking her against the couch. The same day you got on your knees and sucked me off while Hen was out.” he said, making Junior look at him in an appalling way and Valerie laughing, getting up.

She knew they kissed a few times, but Junior blowing Terrance, even though he hates them? Oh, this just makes this night even more interesting and exciting for her.

“….I thought you weren’t real. Assumed the wife thing was just him lying about his attraction.” he confessed, looking at her with a pathetic look.

“So that’s why you were out there? You were hoping he was really alone so you two could fuck and Hen wouldn’t find out. Tsk tsk.” she replied, taking a swig from Terrance’s wine glass.

She gently tracing over Junior’s chest, taking in everything she just found out just in this moment. She slowly sits in his lap, hearing him wince as her ass rubbed against his length as Terrance looks on, gently rubbing his own.

“You know, baby…..you did a good job choosing the first man, I’ll give you that. But him though? Oh, you definitely wanted a brat to fuck.” she says, hearing Terrance chuckle.

“First man? You guys are open?” asks Junior.

“No. We’re almost that, but it was just me bringing home women I wanted to fuck and sharing with him. I don’t know what’s it called, but it’s that.” she says, wrapping her arms around him.

“You do this with all of your subjects? Risking your job while lying to their partners?” said Junior, getting heated.

“Don’t pretend you didn’t go along with it when you’re the one who made the first move.” said Terrance.

“Please. How many men have you said that to?”

“You’re the first one. I made sure to never hook up with any of the female subjects, wives, or girlfriends as a way to protect his job. Hell, I didn’t think he would actually get attracted to a man ever. Until he got assigned to you. And suddenly, you started to pop up in his mind…”

She begins moving her hips against his clothed length, making Junior hold in his groans as Terrance becomes even more aroused.

“He probably was thinking about you while he was fucking me. Imagining you twisted all up on the couch, stroking yourself as he pounds that attitude out of you, basically dominating you as you moaning under him.” she said, gently sucking his neck.

“My god, y’all are sick.” he whispered, groaning at the sensation of her essence soaking him.

She stops abruptly, making Junior hold a scowl at her. She removes her arms, placing them at her sides.

“So push me off. Since you hate it so bad. Be a real man like you are.”

He looks at Terrance, who is waiting for him to make the next move. Looking her up and down, he takes in her beauty, understanding why Terrance chosen her as his wife. Who wouldn’t want to be with this beautiful woman forever?

Looking down to where the string is, he pulls it, which unwraps and opens her dress, exposing her breasts and underwear. He removed it, tossing it to the side as he looks at her breasts, salivating at the roundness and hard nipples. He gently touches them until she raised his arms up, holding them hostage. She smiles at him, leaning in.

“You’re gonna obey me and Terrance. Which means no touching, including yourself, no fucking unless one of us tells you to move, and no disobeying. Understand?” she said, leaning over him.

“…yes.” he nodded, locking eyes with her.

Valerie motions Terrance to come to them, which he does. She gently pulls him down to her, placing a sloppy kiss on his mouth before turning back to Junior, who watches hungrily. She traces his mouth with her fingers before giving him a sloppy kiss as well, with him slightly fighting back.

“Don’t get too greedy, baby.” whispered Terrance, rubbing her back.

She pulls away, moving to the side a bit as she pulled Terrance to Junior, backing up to give them space. The men hesitated for a moment before embracing in a kiss, with Terrance wrapping his hand around Junior’s neck. She carefully slides out of Junior’s lap, walking to get a sip of water.

Terrance breaks the kiss, breathing very hard as he smirks at Junior, lust consuming the both of them. He picks him up by the neck, almost having him off his feet and suffocating him.

“What do you want to do with our toy?” he asks, looking at her.

She sips her water before walking over them, rubbing Junior’s face. She tugs at his pants, unbuckling them and removing it, leaving him with a growing tent in his underwear. She touches it, making him flinch before kissing his cheek.

“I want to see how he blew you. Wondering if he did a good job.” she said, kneeling down to her knees.

Terrance moans, letting Junior go and begins removing his clothes. Valerie motions Junior to kiss her on the neck, in which he does as she gently slides her hand into his underwear.

“Wow. You’re very hard and submissive.” she mumbled, gently stroking his length, making him moan quietly.

After throwing his underwear to the side, Terrance stands in front the duo, stroking his length as Valerie removes her hand, gently wrapping it around his length.

“Ladies first.” said Junior, making all three of them laugh.

Moving herself in position, she engulfs him into her mouth, earning a loud groan from Terrance. She grabs Junior’s hands and places them on her hair, signaling him to hold it. She continues sucking him, gently massaging his balls as she strokes the rest, keeping her eyes up at Terrance. Junior watches intensely, feeling warmth growing inside of him.

“You wanna make Hen happy? Let her take control in the bedroom.” said Terrance, groaning immediately as Valerie takes him out, catching her breath.

She moves back, letting Junior get in her position. Terrance lifts his face up, tapping the side of his mouth to signal ‘open’, which he does, sticking his tongue. He taps his tip on it, rubbing it for a few moments before sliding into his mouth, using his head as leverage as he begins fucking it. Junior, taken aback by the move, placing his hands on his thighs to push back, but receives a hard slap on his ass from Valerie.

“Put them down. Just breathe through your nose and keep your balance.” she says, pushing his arms down.

Terrance begins moving his hips forward, carefully going a sluggish pace as Junior tries to keep his balance, but pulls away, coughing very hard. Valerie laughs, standing next to him.

“Watch me.” she says, inserting Terrance’s length back into her mouth, but removing her hands.

He resumes his pace, with the sounds of her slurping and gagging filling up the room. She stops him, catching her breath. She gently strokes him as she guides Junior to his length by his neck.

“Do what I did. Just without falling or choking.” she whispers, inserting Terrence’s length into his mouth.

Junior focuses on breathing and keeping himself up as he matches his aggressive pace, hearing him moan loudly as he hits the back of his throat a few times. Valerie watches, aroused by him pleasuring her husband with his mouth.

Noticing how close Terrance was to his release, she removes his length from his mouth, making him exhale hard. He leans down to kiss her passionately before doing the same to Junior.

“Where do you want us next?” asked Terrance, looking at Valerie.

She points at the bed with her head before getting up to lay on it. The men followed, each sitting on one side of her: Junior on her right and Terrance on her left. She pulls the both men into a big kiss before moving each one to one of her breasts, in which both begin to suck, nibbling a bit.

“Fuck, that feels so good.” she moans, rubbing their heads.

Terrance begins kissing down to her pussy, rubs his hands over the lace as he looks up at Junior, who is now fondling her other breast with his hand.

“Baby, can you blow him for me as I devour you?” he asks, tracing Junior’s shoulder.

She nods as she gently removes him from her breasts, lies down on the bed, with her legs opening up for him as she ushers Junior into standing up in front of her. As she pulls down his underwear, his hard length bounces out, making her let out a gasp.

“Oh, you been waiting…” she says, wrapping her hands around it, gently stroking and placing kisses on it, making him close his eyes and groan at the sensation.

“Eyes on me, Junior.” she said, sliding her underwear down as Terrance removes it, propping her legs on his shoulders before licking her slit, making her flinch.

“You’re tense, huh?” he asked, looking at her before sucking her clit.

She lets out a few moans before engulfing Junior’s length into her mouth, stroking the rest that couldn’t fit. She places one of his hands on one of her breasts, signaling him to fondle it as Terrance inserts two fingers inside, gently plumping in and out of her.

The sounds of Junior’s moaning, Valerie’s gagging, and Terrance’s slurping fills the room as both Junior and Valerie feel their release building. Valerie pushes Terrance’s head down deeper as she gently massages Junior’s balls to add to the feeling.

Just as Junior was almost close, she releases his length from her mouth, watching it move up and down as the latter catches his breath.

“Is this what y’all meant?” he asks, falling next to her on the bed.

“Mmmhmm.” is all she could get out as Terrance sped up his pace, rubbing her clit while licking it.

After letting out a few more moans, she came very hard, wetting more of his face with her essence as she shooked under his hold. Letting out a pop! sound, he gets up, wiping his face before sucking off his fingers. He leans down and kisses her, biting her lip in the process.

“What’s our next order?” he asks.

“I want…I want you to fuck him.” she said exhaustively, tapping Junior’s leg.

Junior laughed before turning on his stomach, getting on his knees as Terrance retreats to retrieve a condom. Valerie looks up at him, who looks down at her.

“Remember: just breathe and don’t lost your balance…..unless the pain doesn’t simmer.” she said, touching his face.

He nods as Terrance returned, with a condom wrapped around his length and lube. He fixes his position, placing a pillow under his chest as he arched Junior’s back a little more. Lightly slapping his ass, he squeezes some lube on his hole, spreading it with his tip, watching it clench a few times.

“You begging for me real bad, huh..” he mumbled, gently poking at it.

“Don’t do that…..you’re gonna make me cum quickly.” Junior whines, trying to pull away, but receives a hard slap on his right cheek, making him let out a muffled yelp.

“Fix your posture. Don’t make me tell you again.”

Junior obliged, moving back towards him as he lined himself at his entrance. Holding his hips with one hand as the other inserts his length inside carefully, they both let out a loud groan, with Terrance leaning himself over him.

“Breathe, breathe, breathe.” whispered Valerie into Junior’s ear, rubbing his back as he let outs harsh breaths.

Terrance moved his hips a bit to fill in more, making Junior tense up bit. He pulls out, kneels down and begins to trace his hole with his tongue, giving him good licks, making him press backwards.

“Fuck…” mumbled Junior, not used to feeling this amazing pleasure, but it being done by a man. Boy, he hopes Hen never finds out about this.

Valerie gently kisses his back, locking eyes with Terrance, who is very focused on stretching Junior out. He stops, pushes him back gently, and re-inserts himself, this time fully inside. He begins a canny pace, smacking his ass with his pelvis.

“Is that the best you can do?” he asks, looking slightly at Terrance, who has an animality look on his face.

“You want that?” he replied, smiling with an evil smirk.

“…do it. Don’t be a pussy in front of her.”

Valerie’s jaw drops, holding in a laugh as she removed herself from his back. Oh, he definitely set something off in him because suddenly, Terrance grabs his neck to pull him towards his chest and begins going at a rapid pace, thrusting very hard.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck!” is all he could get out, feeling Terrance squeezing his neck hard, grunting loud in his ear.

“That’s it. Submit. To. Me!” he says, shoving Junior down to the bed, continuing his brutal pounding.

Junior’s moans fill the room as he fills himself building up again, clenching around him.

“It’s too much, please.” he whines, trying to push him back but gets his arms put in a hold, making him let out an evil laugh.

“Nah, be a good toy and taking it like a good one should.” he says, slapping his ass a few times.

As Terrance gives him a few more thrusts, he pulls out, preventing him and his own release and falls into the chair. Junior winces, once again being denied as the men catch their breaths. A few moments later, he gets flipped onto his back, feeling a condom being wrapped around his member.

“What’s next?” he asks weakly.

“Turn on your side.” said Valerie, pecking his nose.

He does so, placing a pillow under him as Valerie lays in front, her back facing him. She grabs one of his hands and places it on her rib as she moves the other one under her leg, hooking it. She takes his length and inserts it in her pussy, both letting out groans.

“Match his pace. Don’t go too rough.” she said, moving his hand to her neck.

Junior begins thrusting his hips in a snappily motion, his balls slapping her lips. She lets out a slew of moans and gasps, gently rubbing her clit. He squeezes her neck tightly, picking up his pace.

“You like that? Being fucked in front of your husband after he just got done fucking me?” he whispered, earning a audible moan from her as he locked eyes with Terrance, who is stroking him.

She turns her head to passionately make out with him, with him continuing his thrusts. Unknownst to them, Terrance gets up, lays behind Junior, and re-enters from behind, making him groan and stop.

“Nah, don’t stop. Come on.” he slaps his ass. “Continue.” as he thrusts into him.

Junior resumes, matching each thrust as he hits Valerie’s sweet spot consistently, making her let out some tearful moans. Terrance smirks, placing wet kisses all over his shoulder.

“There you go….fighting back a bit.”

“You close?”

“No. You?”

“Almost. She can’t stop clenching around me.”

“She’s close too.”

Valerie laughs hoarsely as both pick up their pace, sloppily thrusting into each other. After a few more thrusts, the trio all cum simultaneously, with Valerie shaking and squirting under Junior as both him and Terrance fill up their condoms. All catching their breaths as Terrance removes himself from Junior, with the latter removing himself from Valerie.

“..We..we’re not done, are we?” asked Junior, looking between the couple.

Both shake their heads, making Junior chuckle weakly. Terrance gets up, grabs a sip of wine before removing his semen filled condom, tossing it in the trash. He picks up Valerie and places her on top of Junior, gently reinserting his length inside of her.

“Fuck.” she whined.

“Hold still.” said Terrance, fixing their position.

Then, he inserts himself inside her, making her groan and shoot up as Junior gasps, not knowing they were both gonna fuck her inside at once.

“Wait, doesn’t this hurt?” Junior asked in a worrying tone.

She looks down at him, tears in her eyes. She shakes her head, smiling at him with a mesmerized expression. Oh my god, we broke her he said in his mind.

“No. He just remembered a fantasy I told him about.” she said, before turning to give him a kiss.

Terrance kisses her back before turn her forward, pushing her down before he started to pound her, earning some vulgar sounds from her that mixed in with her wetness. Junior watched, seeing her enjoy being dominated as she’s on top of him.

“Hey.” he said, lightly slapping Junior’s face. “Just because I’m up doing my job, doesn’t mean you can sit back and enjoy. Start moving those hips.”

Junior obliged, pumping his hips upwards as she wrapped her hands around his neck, keeping her balance up. Terrance grabs her hair, making her arch her back.

“Look at you. Taking me and him very hungrily. You wanted this to happen, didn’t you?”

“Mmhm.” she said, earning a hard slap on her ass, making her yelp.

“When I ask you a question, I expect an answer, not a sound. So let me ask you again: you wanted this to happen, didn’t you?” he asks again, giving her deep thrusts.

“Yes! Ever since that night he was watching us!” she responded, squeezing Junior’s neck, making him moan.

“Look at you two. Both sharing me while all over each other. You think I wouldn’t notice?”

“No. No, sir.” said Junior, grunting as he feels himself getting ready to release again. Terrance smirks, leaning forward to topple over Valerie, speeding up his pace.

“Good job, toy. Now help me make her cum again.” he says, kissing on her neck.

The men continuously hit Valerie’s sweet spot, making her clench and moan loudly as she eagerly attempts to keep up, but failing as her body started to tense up.

Junior pulls out, removing his semen filled condom to stroke himself, doing this until his expletive filled release came, shooting on him and Valerie’s thighs. Terrance’s luscious release follows behind, releasing his load deeply inside, making Valerie meet her euphoric release a few moments later.

The trio kisses each other one last time before collapsing on the bed, catching their breaths. After a few minutes, Terrance get up and walks out of the room, leaving the door open to hear water running from the bathroom. Coming back in with a bowl and towels, he gently wipes both of them, getting rid of the sweat and fluids that are all over their bodies before doing it to himself. Valerie looks at Junior, who begins to fall asleep.

“….we wore your ass out, huh?” asked Valerie, rubbing his face.

“Mmhm.” he said, slowly falling asleep.

Terrance lays next to her, kissing her shoulder as he wrapped his arms around her.

“How you feel?” he asks.

“Pleased. Exhausted. A little worried she may have heard us.”

“She won’t know. And he’ll forget when I erase the memories. This only happened between just the two of us.”

“Or three if you wanna be technical.”

Terrance smiles before kissing her, falling asleep as Valerie looked at the door. She thought to herself what if she was actually listening and is planning to snitch, but erased it from her mind, thinking we can say she was very drunk and probably imagined it before falling asleep.

🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲 🜲

A/N II: Its been a really rough week, so I’m glad I finished this. Before someone asks, no. Black Velvet did not play in Foe. I just don’t know the name of the song Hen puts on after I’m New Here.

Part 4 (the Finale) will be out mid-month as I am too depressed from the elections to write it. Stay safe everyone, especially the ones living in the red states/about to suffer if you international. And go to hell if you voted for him!

Taglist: @urfavblackbimbo @blyffe @literallegendicon @kimuzostar @aaronpdaily

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wonderjanga · 2 days ago

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Warfare

You see, Marvel’s mentioned the Wisdom of Solomon before. The JL never really thought much about it. As a result, the JL just thinks Marvel has all these… interesting ideas but just never says anything about them. Though, there are a couple times the ideas are actually voiced. (They don’t know Billy is just parroting whatever Solomon or occasionally another God with tell him)

Like the time Batman and Marvel got stranded on a planet that was stuck in the middle of war. They were promised

Rebel Leader: “Do either of you have any ideas to bring to the table?”

Batman: “No. Marvel?”

Marvel: “Huh? Oh uh… well I could magic a plague into the water near them. You said they’re using it for their water source, right? Then, when they’re weak, we can go around and take them out.” *sounds hesitant*

Batman: “Hmm… That could be a good idea, but what sort of plague are we talking about?”

Marvel: “Cholera.”

Batman: “What.”

Marvel: “Cholera.”

Batman: “Marvel, that’s fatal.”

Marvel: “Oh.”

Batman: “Yeah.”

*silence*

Marvel: “Well, if we’re quick, it we can get to them before they die.”

Batman: *stares for a bit, holding back a sigh* “We don’t even know if Cholera will affect their biology the same way it does humans.”

Rebel Leader: “What is this Cholera?”

Batman: “It’s a deadly waterborne disease.”

Rebel Leader: “I see… And you’re unsure whether it will work with our physiology… might I propose a different disease?”

So yes, biological warfare, that’s our first thing. Batman proceeded to spend a lot of time convincing the Rebel Leader not to nearly kill an entire group of people with their version of Cholera.

Then there was the time Bruce and Marvel were working together and got held up in a shootout at a lab.

Marvel: *looking at the various chemicals in the lab* “Gosh, I remember my first exposure to chlorine gas.” *getting nostalgic* (He’s from the 1940s in this one, guys)

Batman: “You’ve been exposed to chlorine gas?”

Marvel: “Yeah, and let me tell you, those dang Nazis were horrified when it didn’t work on me. Don’t worry though, we’re gonna be making mustard gas instead.”

Batman: “Captain, we are not doing that.”

Marvel: “Why? We have all the available ingredients.”

Batman: “Marvel.” *puts a hand on his shoulder* “Mustard gas can be fatal.”

Marvel: “Oh.”

Batman: “Yeah.”

*silence*

Marvel: “My bad.”

*more silence*

Batman: “Is this why you always let others plan?”

Marvel: “Are you gonna look at me weird if I say yes?”

Batman: “Hn.” (Translation: Yes, but it won’t be visible through my cowl)

This incident checks chemical warfare off the list. Bruce is now concerned as to why most of Marvel’s ideas are either nearly fatal or just fatal.

Then there was the time Marvel went undercover with Bruce Wayne, not Batman for whatever reason. They then got attacked by pirates while on a ship trying to gather information about some supervillain.

Bruce and Marvel: *taken cover under a table while the pirates fire cannon balls at them*

Bruce: “Any ideas?” *peaks over the cover only for a cannonball to whiz right past his head*

Marvel: “I think I have one. So here’s what I’m thinking. I take out their mast, steal all their oars, and then push them out to sea and let them drift wherever.

Bruce: “That’s… Intense. Wouldn’t they starve if you just let them drift?”

Marvel: “I guess. If they’re not saved, I mean.”

Bruce: *stares with the most deadpan face* “How about I come up with a plan instead?”

Marvel: “You got it boss.”

And last but not least, the physical warfare.

By the way, Billy doesn’t know Bruce is the Bat. No, no, no, he just thinks the guy is someone Batman wants him to work with. He was a little surprised to see the dude act all brooding like Mr. Batman when he had heard from others that he was a party boy. Oh well, not his business. Meanwhile, Bruce doesn’t know Marvel thinks he’s just interacting with a capable civilian.

That last part was inspired by @helps-the-writing-brain-go’s reblog of this post. Thanks for letting me write with your idea :)

#billy batson #shazam #dc captain marvel #captain marvel dc #fawcett city #fawcett #fawcett comics #batman #bruce wayne

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luv-beam · 2 days ago

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i am so fucking upset I AM SO FUCKING UPSET . i cannot convey how absolutely devastated i am like im sitting here in the dark unable to fully convey KANFKDNFKFJFJFNFN AHHHSHFJRJGKKGKGKFKFKFKFKGKFK

okok im sorry i do have some things to say as general statements abt my experience and ur skills before we get into some of the nitty gritty 😭 but first off, moni, i am ashamed to say i somehow missed that u dedicated this to me. i am so so sorry for not seeing it for some awful reason, but pls know that i am so honored—like beyond honored and appreciative. u r crazy good at ur craft and i am so happy ur posting ur fiction for us to read :'))

also, i def mentioned it in my notes below, but i loooove the film quality of your writing. like the i could see the color shifts. OH MY GOD I ALSO DIDNT TALK ABT THE RELATION OF WINTER TO THE SENEFNKRNFJT TO THE END IM UPSET AGAIN i literally cannot. u have a talent for coaxing me to hand over my heart and then watching u squeeze it :')))) im upset :')))) ur really too good and i... im biting my knuckles and struggling to type bc i wanna cry

thank u for this. i know u say this fic is something ur most proud of, and that is incredibly well merited. like oh my god. i can't right now i kind of just want to cry

also, before i put my notes below, i wanted to include the songs i listened to during this and i think i def picked an appropriate playlist skfnekfn: they see me dream (tbz), future me (hailey knox), dream launch (wayv), wings (tbz), smiling thru. (slchld), square one (tbz), someday faraway (labit), empty box (atz), same dream, same mind, same night (svt), 111 (thuy), the race (chris james), heaven - acoustic (onerepublic), raise y_our glass (huh yunjin)

omg i do have to comment on the presence of two of my like,, "older brother" figure idols uji and namjoon ekfnkrnf i always imagine them in that kind of way so the vibe just feels all the more warm haha (despite the hazy sleep-deprived solidarity going on dkgnjrnf)

WAIT.... THE CONVENIENCE STORE FROM THE TEASER... OH NO.

IT RESEMBLES UR BED AFTER A LONG DAY OF WORK BUT IT DOESNT LIVE UP TO HIM?? im devastated in two sentences

the picking your fingers until blood spills is such a great humanizing detail

still, the lilacs have yet to bloom.

omg im such a sucker for flower symbolism,, this feels like a low-key reference to feelings between u and changmin? OH I SEE THEY DINT EVEN KNOW EACH OTHER YET SKFNDKFN THIS CHANGES THINGS

PLS THE "im sure they wouldn't mind working w u" ASSIGNED PAIRINGS IS SOOOOOO im getting ptsd from middle school 😭😭 that feeling of everyone knowing someone and ur just kind of alone, knowing no one will likely come to u themselves,,, but changmin... tsk tsk i have a feeling abt you....... IM ONTO U SIR

you look back at changmin; he’s still looking at you. ; (you’re still thinking about the dips in his cheeks.)

IM ONTO U JI CHANGMIN (also so real tho... his dimples are like... meant to be the centerpiece of an art gallery)

KUMON. (i mercifully never had to face that, but maybe that's why i fkn suck at math today 💀)

oh no....

i swear this is related, but im listening to wayv's dream launch and reading this part in particular w the song is so... i feel so emo rn like its okay yn-bear... you'll be okay i swear, i know it sucks now but one day ur dreams will come true even if its hard to detach ourselves from our parents' expectations and influences

also the imagery here is so visceral and vivid... like i can see it in my mind, the way you're so used to the feeling, but u still shake them off anyway bc u dont want them to linger; u can't breathe w them there, so /present/

don’t you think that some of the stories that we read hold fragments of someone?

i love this line and totally agree w this

also wanted to add that changmin trying to coax this info out of them is so :(( i love him

AWH WAIT PAPERCUT ART AND FORMING IMAGES OUT OF THEM SUCH A COOL IDEA its like the deletion(?) poetry where u take a piece of text and blot out all words except for certain ones to form poetry?

the idol comment,,, the fourth wall is shaking

OMG THE PIC???? SO GOOD WHAT I LOVE THIS AND AS A VISUAL AID/SUPPLEMENT TOO?? omg and ending this section w the single lilac having bloomed TT ugh i love callbacks to symbols

your tastebuds long for cheongju.

baaaaaanger line

jongseobs characterization >>> I LOOOVE IMPISH YOUNGER SIBLING CODED CHARACTERS

still, you stand in the middle of the mart and your heart longs for home.

and this one too ^ i feel this. the exhaustion and yearning that settles in your bones until ur convinced emotion really does carry tangible weight i love longing-for-homeisms

you and changmin were once painted with the hues of the sun. this reunion is tainted with blue.

I CHOKED. also i would like to comment on the delicious pacing of this past scene from when u realize who's standing right next to u and how the world seems to rush back toward the present from the past and ur frantic and slapping money into jongseobs palms and then—"yn?"—world stop. IIIIINHALES .. SCREAMS SO GOOD

love the blue stain over my view btw

idk how to feel abt the grape flavor being yns favorite 🧍🏻‍♀️ u do u tho

THIS???????? THIS!!!!!!! what did u deserve to know just feels so right in this situation,, when you've fallen out of touch who used to be ur world—when u r no longer their world or in their world, how much should you reveal? do they still care? where is the line drawn now?

if you miss home, why is your first instinct to run away from it?

im tearing at the walls. i am unfortunately devastated by this question. home is such a... its a complicated thing for so many people.

the black limbs slowly ate away at your heart; the void was born.

THEYRE BACK but now, instead of simply curling arounf ur heart, they're digging their nails into it and ripping chunks of it away

the lingering feelings of envy and resentment of changmins home life versus yns is so... like i think it adds such an important layer of nuance to their relationship

because you still wanted more for him than you did for yourself.

OH MY GOD

oh my god

AND THE DISTANCE FEELS GREATER NOW.. oh my god... the silence and the negative space r so loud... oh my god.....

the contrast to the next segment in summer is so staggering dkgndjnfnf also congrats to them for levelling up in friendship to calling each other fuckers!! LMFAO i adore their little back n forth here haha their arguing over the phone, to arguing over popsicle flavors

LOVEBIRDS SKCNDKFNKFNXKDKKDKD

astrophysics is cool when someone on yt is explaining it in layman's terms or ur in the space.com website, but not when ur looking at all those nightmarish equations... *shudders violently*

from that day on, you’ve learned to keep his name out of conversations. you’ll enjoy what you have with changmin, even if it has to be kept under the wraps.

in a way, this is like a form of protection, not only protecting ur own freedom and agency but akso protecting the person who has wormed his way into ur life and is determined to stay,, someone who seems to be the one good thing happening to u at that moment

im so... i wish i could sit yn down and give them a hug and a pep talk. they do know how to persevere. they're literally pushing thru right now

FINGER TRAP FINGER TRAP TITLE MENTIONED THIS IS NOT A DRILL

omg THE PROFILES SJCBDJFN THEYRE GONNA BE INTERVIEWING OUR BOYZ DJFBKDNCKDNF i am Howling at the moon

THIS??? IS FUCKING EVERYTHING???????? the different colors of cheongju seep thru gaaaaaaawd the careful wall you've built to rpetend ur past is behind u has now returned to remind u that it does, in fact, still exist. it will not hesitate to break ur bubble of present reality

i have a violent urge to throttle a couple who are poor excuses for parents

also just bringing in the murky waters rising and drowning u and filling ur lungs is just as compelling and visceral through this section. like u described it perfectly well, how when ur starting to lose oxygen, your chest burns and its slow but throbbing

are you nothing but an array of achievements and failures?

aren't we all though? :(

NOW UR HOME IS CHANGMIN.

i love just imagining ur writing like a movie, like this part in particular u can just kind of envision these things flicking across the screen chuchuchuchu—back to the present. finger traps.... clinging onto those fragments of the past... when u try to rip your fingers out of a finger trap, it grips onto u tighter; a slow withdrawal is the only way to escape... oh god

WHY DOES IT FEEL LIKE ONE OF DESTINY x2 I SEE U MONI I SEE YOU.

HE WAS THE ONE OUTSIDE THE BATHROOM IM GONNA GNAW MY FINGERS OFF

im very slow today but the incorporation of all four szns into the sections of this fic is like mwah MWAHMWAHMWAH and hE CANT WAIT TO SHARE THIS SZN W U?? IM YELLING??? ugh i think im too single.

dude my heart dropped into my ass . what r these fuckass parents doing

WHAT NINONOENFOFNFJFJ NO WHAT MONI STOP NO U CANT JUST LET THE CAR GO NO HE'S RIGHT THERE NO NONONOSNFJDNFJFJ im having a crisis no WHAT

. oh my god

Oh my god that hurts. Oh my god i cant im so

oh im so upset they never got closure they never got to say goodbye ur right the only way to get out of a finger trap is thru a slow withdrawal—unless the connections is severed so forcefully, it just breaks .

oh my god

i dont wanna read this interview im so upset

im so fucking upset.

finger trapped (ripped to its seams) ➵ ji changmin

ji changmin x reader

with an unexpected reunion, you and changmin relive the memories of cheongju—and confront what could’ve been between you two.

general genre/warnings ➵ friends to almost lovers, angst, fluff, gender neutral reader, some depressive and insecure thoughts, hurt/comfort, the last five years story-telling method (aka present will be told going backwards while past will be told moving forward... i hope that makes sense), brief mention of blood from picking on your skin, tiger parents so... parental issues, unexpected reunion, keeping secrets & lying, jealousy remains but love triumphs, journalist reader (u kno i had to do it), reader is a nerd and changmin is a student-athlete, kms jokes from jongseob (all /lh), finger traps aren’t efficient after all

word count ➵ 15.7k words

playlist ➵ end of beginning by djo // high school in jakarta by niki // i know it won't work by gracie abrams // no big deal (i love you) by dodie // keeping tabs by niki // no one knows by stephen sanchez & laufey // so what now by reneé rapp // i wish i hated you by ariana grande // the 1 by taylor swift // seasons by wave to earth

a/n ➵ it's finally out! this is my submission for @deoboyznet's the love letter collective event! this work is so so personal to me on so many levels so i hope you all love and treat this fic with care :')) for the bitches who struggle with parents and dreams.... this one's for you (i am in the same boat) i appreciate everyone who's been so patient and looking forward to this fic's release. i'd like to thank @hcuyk for being a betareader for this fic! i also want to dedicate this one to @sungbeam and @wavesmp3 <3 your works inspire me so much and i think this fic is a product of how much they've influence me. hanbin's version is now available! please don't forget to reblog and leave feedback!!

want to be part of my taglist? send me an ask! masterlist

present -> three weeks after the interview, 2024

the newsroom never sleeps. the rings of landlines and clacks of keyboards bounce off the four walls. through light bulbs or sunshine, light continues to remain. and at every corner, a journalist stands—ready to enter the depths of slumber but remain on their toes as they await for an update on their unraveling story.

but the newsroom is rarely busy unless there’s a major nationwide event, election season or the super bowl to name a few, for most journalists are out to discover what the world has to offer.

knowledge doesn’t only come from the chitchat of your coworkers. it’s only on the field that you’ll hear of hearsay and testimonies. after all, the choice to probe rests on your shoulders.

“there’s a typo over there.”

“huh? where?”

“over here,” you mumble as your finger darts to point at a section on the screen. “it’s supposed to say “in their climactic performance on road to kingdom,” not climatic.”

“ah, i see it now. sorry about that,” lee jihoon of digital development says as he corrects the error. his hair is disheveled from the hood that once perched on his head during the night he spent in the newsroom. you would’ve scolded the guy—go home and take a shower before you stink up the place—but you are no better, grouped with the other journalists who stayed up in the office.

“there we go. should be all good. now, are you ready to go through the profiles?”

an exhausted chuckle departs from your lips. “yeah, let’s go—”

“what’s the update?” life and arts editor kim namjoon—your editor—comes to you with a smile.

the grey hoodie he wears paired with comfortable jeans shows that he’s a little relaxed. for once, you don’t see him on his phone, battling the deadlines or getting pitched stories by the other editors. it’s a nice sight but one that won’t last for long.

“we just finished going through the article about the group, so we still have yet to go through the profiles.” jihoon then looks at you. “i can’t believe you basically wrote 12 articles. like, 11 profiles and one main article is a lot. you didn’t want to work on it with anyone else?”

once namjoon stands beside you, you bump your shoulder against his figure. “i didn’t have a choice, did i?” it’s a rhetorical question but one your editor still chooses to answer.

“unfortunately, we’re understaffed, but it seemed like you got the hang of it. i wouldn’t have trusted anyone else to do it.” namjoon shoots you a smile before redirecting his attention back to jihoon. “and as much as i’d love to tell y/n more, we have to pick up the pace.” without any further questions, the three of you resume with work.

there’s no time to waste in the journalism industry. still, his praise doesn’t go unnoticed.

one article turned into eight done in a matter of 30 minutes, all with the help of three pairs of eyes to go through them. (namjoon seemed to carry the heavy lifting. after all, the guy was trained to be quick in reading and spotting errors.)

it should’ve been easy to keep up with your editor for all the other articles; you know each profile like the back of your hand.

then, the face of a boy who you once knew sits on the screen.

his gaze seems to pierce through your soul, almost in the same way you last talked to him. the loose ends of composure slip through your fingers; your breath’s stuck in your throat as the hammering of your heart fills your ears. yet, he stands still on the monitor.

as your eyes drift through the passages you’ve written, every sound is drowned out. the voice of your editor fades like the everchanging seasons and the clicks of the keyboard resemble the sobs you let out in the comfort of your childhood room.

and suddenly, the hands of the clock have turned all the way back to 2014. the cubicles transformed into aisles of chips and instant ramen, and you hear mr. kim’s voice in the distance—i have some hotteok! fresh from the pan! but amidst it all, you hear the giggles of the boy, your best friend, as he rushes towards you—i’ll go audition and make you proud. as your arm is wrapped with the heat of his fingers, you almost believe that your life as a journalist is nothing but a dream—

“i knew him.” the illusion disappears within a blink of an eye. namjoon’s eyes snap towards you and jihoon stops scrolling through the website. “we went to the same high school.”

you aren’t sure why you revealed that to your coworkers, let alone your boss. it’s an old memory—your weight to carry. before you can apologize for disrupting their work, namjoon’s hand rests on your shoulder, his thumb drawing shapes into it. when you look over at him, you’re greeted by his smile. it resembles your bed after a long day of work or a slow day at the newsroom.

but it never lives up to him, whose giggles resemble nature’s symphonies. the two shots of espresso you need at the start of the day once came in the form of his warm embrace. most of all, his smile is enough to illuminate the world even through the strongest storms and times when power went out.

for the remaining articles, not a single word leaves you. before you know it, all 12 articles were ready to go up on the web.

“that’s all of it. should i still schedule them to go up around 12 p.m.?” jihoon notes as he saves the drafts.

“yeah, 12 p.m. still sounds good. thanks a lot.” namjoon nudges his shoulder before looking over to you. “let’s talk in my office.”

you don’t question his orders. once namjoon takes off, you follow him all the way to his office. as he swings the door open, you are met with the familiar sight of his workspace. hues of green and brown mix, where nature and art meet within the space of corporate.

once namjoon takes a seat on his chair, you find your spot across from him. his eyes stare off to the window. for a moment, you’re not sure what to expect from this impromptu meeting.

seconds pass and not a single word has been said—

“this place’s always alive,” your editor breaks the silence. “don’t you think so?”

you follow his line of sight. busy seoul never changes; the skyscrapers pollute the sky and the people never sleep, off to work or off to party.

“where’d you grow up again?”

you look back at namjoon whose eyes still remain locked on the city. “cheongju.”

he hums. “i haven’t been there. nice place?”

“yeah, but i haven’t gone back in a while.”

“when was the last time?” his eyes finally meet yours.

your teeth grasp the inside of your cheek. “2014, since i first left,” you admit.

“do you miss it?”

you’re not sure how to answer. the pavements you’ve scraped your knees against and the walls your laughs bounced off of—do you miss them all? or is the reason behind your laughter and scabs the one you long for?

“is that why you were hesitant about interviewing them?” namjoon’s thumbs fiddle with each other. “because of your history with him?”

now, you stare at your linked hands. maybe the silence from you is enough to answer his question but you know namjoon would never settle for a soundless answer.

“i—i’m not a good person. and even if i didn’t make the choice to leave, i—” you hold yourself back. your fingers start to pick on the skin around your thumbs, peeling it so blood can spill.

“it’s okay, i understand. you don’t have to share it with me.” your eyes drift back to namjoon, spotting a small smile that rests on his face. “it must’ve been hard to relive it all.”

the bond you have with namjoon is one that you hold close to your heart. through his mentorship, you got to learn about what it means to be a writer. the fears of being a journalist would loom over you, where questions of salary and demanding work hours would occupy your mind, but namjoon became someone who would absolve them all. he became a pillar in your life, one that provides you hope and comfort within the industry.

“so, don’t feel pressured to talk about it. but if you ever want to open up about it, then i’ll be here.”

namjoon’s giving you an exit. are you willing to take it?

you cross your arms as you lean back into the chair. “you know how i was a science major then?”

“yeah, i remember looking over your resume. and then i saw that you were part of your university’s publication.”

your tongue pushes against the inside of your cheek. “i would’ve gotten some job in that field, like, i had it lined up for me.”

“really? like lab coat and all?”

as namjoon attempts to hold back his laugh over the image, you chuckle along. “yeah, lab coat and all! it’s crazy how my life was all set for that field, but i’m here now.” you look down at your arms. “i think just facing him in a completely different field that i once used to imagine with him was just strange. but i think hearing his answers really did it for me.”

namjoon nods at your words. “care to have lunch with me?” your eyes snap back to your editor. “i’m guessing you want to talk about it, after all.”

all you do is smile before getting off your seat.

spring of 2014

the season of spring has graced cheongju; the sun gleams in the expanse of blue and birds perched on tree branches sing their songs. it’s the perfect season to embrace the wonders of the town.

while it would be a delight to bask under the returning warmth, you’re stuck within the walls of the classroom, head resting on crossed arms.

still, the lilacs have yet to bloom.

“y/n.” you quickly sit up before your eyes settle on your adviser, ms. jeon, who stands in front of the classroom. “let’s take attendance.”

with that, you’re beside her as you call out each name on the class list. it’s a quick process of saying your classmates’ names for them to respond in variations of “present,” until you reach the section of last names that start with a ‘j’.

“ji changmin.” no response.

you rip your eyes off the piece of paper, only met with your classmates who either look at each other in confusion or spaced out in their own worlds.

“ji changmin?” when you’re met with the same reaction, you’re ready to mark the student absent—

“sorry!” the doors slam open. a boy clad in a white polo and jogging pants is panting by the entrance, covered in sweat as he rests on the edge of it. “sorry, i’m late.”

“oh, it’s okay! you arrived just in time.” ms. jeon smiles at the tardy student. as you watch him take a seat, his eyes lock with yours, but your adviser nudges you before saying, “y/n, proceed.”

ji changmin made his name a few years back at a competition. the applause and roars from the crowd marked his spot in the school. others describe his movement as of cranes, standing in the middle of a pond as they do their best to minimize forming any ripples, or of elephants, swaying their trunks with control like no other.

but he’s a versatile dancer; nothing can truly capture him.

once you’ve finished marking the attendance, you go back to your seat. you’re ready to start the day with no bother but you can’t shake the feeling of being watched.

“now, you can see in these,” your art teacher, ms. park, points to the screen showcasing works from her favorite contemporary artists like kwon yongju and félix gonzález-torres, “that there are no borders to what constitutes art. and that’s not wrong because we have to recognize that art comes in different forms as we progress, from traditional painting and sculptures to digital ones.”

this field isn't your strong suit. with a greater understanding of the sciences, you struggle to create anything that could be on par with the works of any artist. yet, you enjoyed learning about every piece that your teacher shared, like unfolding and admiring something you know you can never replicate or create. still, the universe decides that they have other plans for you.

“as i mentioned before, i’ll be giving you time to work on your final assessment, which is to create an artwork for the class exhibit. for this deliverable, i’m asking that your work will be a collaborative one, meaning you aren’t working alone.” in a sea of chatter, some groans exit your classmates. “remember, inspiration doesn’t come from your own bubble! take this as your opportunity to create something that you’ve never imagined.”

within a split second, students are off their seats as they attempt to find a partner to work with. you, however, were struggling to think of who you could team up with. admittedly, you have a very different work style compared to others—even cheng xiao, aspiring valedictorian, didn’t enjoy working with you. she turned every activity into a competition against you. (you didn’t enjoy her, either.) while you’re considering shamefully going up to your classmates like a stray dog looking for anyone willing to care for them—

“hi!” in front of you stands the tardy student of today, all smiles as his hands find comfort in the pockets of his jogging pants. “do you have a partner already?”

with furrowed eyebrows, you can’t help but look him up and down. “no, why?”

“well,” changmin looks around the classroom, “everyone seems to have paired up except for us.” as his eyes drift back to you, he flashes you a smile, one that shows the dips engraved into his cheeks. “which leaves me to ask if you would like to work with me for this.”

you don’t have a choice. ms. park would never bend the rules for you. if anything, she would find a way to pair you with another student who would dread the idea of working with you. (“i’m sure they won’t mind being partners with you, right?” is what she would ask the poor student, only to be met with their retreat.)

“unless we accept a failing mark, which i’m sure we both don’t want.” it’s not like changmin had a choice as well.

“okay.” with one word, light fills his eyes, enough to resemble the starlight that grazes your skin every night. “we can meet and discuss our schedules, especially because i’ve got ap stat, and you have, uhm,” a cough leaves you, “training, i’m assuming, or rehearsals. i don’t really know what you call them.”

his eyebrows shoot up as his mouth parts open. “o—oh, yeah. i usually have training after class until 8 p.m. on tuesdays, thursdays, and saturdays.”

“same. my classes are until 7 p.m. on tuesdays and thursdays, so maybe we can use the other days to work together?”

with one nod from him, his dimples reappear. “great! i’ll see you tomorrow.”

before you know it, everyone finds their way back to their seats for ms. park’s final reminders. you do your best to pay attention to every announcement, jotting down every word on your planner and planning out your agenda for the upcoming weeks. yet, your eyes seem to have a mind of their own as they drift back to the boy who discreetly passes notes to kim donghan, another dancer on the team, all while listening to the teacher.

you don’t notice how long you spend staring at changmin until he turns to meet your gaze. in that split second, you look at each other—then, embarrassment washes over you. you shift your attention back to ms. park. as you drum your fingers against the desk, mentally kicking yourself over the interaction, you still can’t shake the feeling of being watched.

you look back at changmin; he’s still looking at you.

his dimples make their reappearance before he looks back at ms. park. you do the same as you attempt to listen to her ramble about banksy’s works.

(you’re still thinking about the dips in his cheeks.)

the first time you get to meet with changmin for the project happens the following week. you two had different commitments to attend to, whether it be other projects or training. and while you would usually settle to meet in the school library or a cafe nearby, you find yourself inside the empty gymnasium, sitting on bleachers while your partner stands in front of mirrors.

“don’t you think it would be nice to combine our hobbies together?”

your pencil taps against the notebook. “like, your dancing? with what?”

“whatever you like to do!” once he makes his way to you, he leans on the row in front of you with crossed arms. “i mean, do you have anything you like to do during your free time?”

a scoff leaves you. “funny of you to assume that i have free time.”

“what’s your schedule like?”

“well, i have our classes and ap ones, then kumon at night.”

changmin reels at the thought of your schedule. “that’s brutal. the last time i had kumon was back in grade 4.”

“yeah, but i’m sure yours is busy as well. the amount of time that you put into training is…” his eyes are wide, hanging on your words. it’s the hope they hold that has you say, “admirable.”

a shy smile takes over his features. “yeah, but it’s only because my family is supportive of what i do.”

then, limbs whose color resembles the void slither their way to your heart, wrapping around it while the organ struggles to beat; it’s a slow process but an unending hole that will birth from it. yet, you do your best to fight off these limbs, unraveling them one by one in hopes it will give up—until you settle for shaking them off.

you only muster out a hum.

“do you have anything you like to do during those short breaks?”

your lips trill. “i don’t know. watch something on youtube?”

his cheeks puff up, stuck in his thoughts as he tries to navigate this project—and you—until his eyes glint. “what do you do when you want to vent?”

“you sure have a lot of questions,” you comment, trying to hold back a chuckle at his curiosity. “i can just adjust to you. maybe attempt to draw, picture, or even film you.”

his eyebrows furrow. “but that wouldn’t make it collaborative. i want us to work on something that aligns with what we do.”

a beat passes.

he holds your gaze. “i want us to create something that shows us.”

inside you, a gong is struck; its sound reverberates throughout your body, from the crown of your forehead to the tips of your toes. then, silence seeps in—a moment only for you and him.

“i, uh, write,” you whisper as your eyes shift to the notebook resting on your lap.

“really? like, stories and poetry?”

you nod. “i like writing people’s stories more, but i do like making ones.” when you look back at changmin, his eyes are still filled with curiosity. “i would, like, find interviews online and try to make my own, sort of, uhm—god this is embarrassing. forget about it.”

“huh? no, it isn’t!” he attempts to reassure your shrunken figure. “i mean, you don’t have to share more if you really don’t want to, but i’d like to hear more about it.” and when his dimples appear, you almost can’t help but feel your face warm up.

“i’d make articles, i guess?” he nods along with your words. “i don’t know, it’s just interesting to hear about people’s lives and kind of create something out of it, and i like thinking about all the possibilities of who would love to hear them. like, don’t you think that some of the stories that we read hold fragments of someone?”

“that’s an interesting way to look at it.”

as you doodle on your notebook, you say, “yeah, it’s just fun to hear these stories and maybe create something out of it. or even think of stories that i could never live out, you know?” you expect yourself to be met with the bored face of changmin but his eyes remain on you.

“what if you interview me?”

your eyebrows shoot up. “you?”

“yeah,” he stands up before walking up to your row, finding a spot beside you. “think of me as your first interviewee if you want.”

the sudden suggestion has you stumbling over your words. “huh? b—but, i don’t have questions prepared. and how does this help our project?”

when his arms brush against yours, you start to become aware of the distance between your shoulders—and his face from yours. warmth spreads throughout your body, almost like you’re about to have a fever. once his open hand rests near yours, you don’t know what he’s asking.

“let me draw it out for you.” you hand him your pencil and notebook, allowing him to see your doodles. (you don’t miss his grin.) “you know, with that article you make, we can cut it up and create something out of it.” a roughly drawn sketch of a boy posed in the middle of a dance move now rests on the page. “i don’t know if a collage would be okay.”

as you think about what can be done, you perch your chin on your palm. “we can do papercut art? basically, it’s cutting up the article in a way to form an image.”

“oh, that sounds cool!”

“yeah, but the only challenge is that we can only use one piece of paper.” a sigh leaves you. “it would be impossible for me to even do that.”

“that’s why you have me.” his small smile causes wind chimes to ring. (you’re positive you heard them, even if there were no such things in the gymnasium.)

he continues to sketch out the layout of your joint artwork. “how do we feel about this?” on the paper, there are two boxes beside the figure, where one is labeled as “photo of me” while the other is labeled “an article by y/n.” your head tilts. “it’ll be a three-set piece. so, it’ll be a photo of me and your article, and in between is the papercut art that we’ll make.”

you hum. “you know, you’re very creative.” you look at him only to see that he’s been staring at you. “like, you’re inclined to the arts. i wouldn’t have been able to think of something like this.”

“you’re just as creative,” he argues back as he writes down something.

you shake your head before retorting, “changmin, you’re very talented. i’ve seen the way you dance,” his movements halt, “and you’re like no other dancer i’ve seen. if you ever try out to be an idol, i’m sure you’d do great, maybe end up on the list of the best dancers in the industry.”

but he shakes his head, going back to writing on your notebook and shutting down your compliments. you decide to not push.

“i can get the photo sometime during my training,” he says as he hands you your notebook.

“then i can have the questions sometime this week. for the article, i can have it done maybe four days after the interview. how does wednesday, after school, sound for the interview?”

he shoots you a smile before standing up from his seat. “that’s perfect! i’m looking forward to meeting journalist y/n.” you can’t help but scoff at what he calls you. “what’s wrong?”

“nothing,” you shake your head. “it’s just a silly name.” because the reality is that you had your future planned out—and it definitely didn’t involve that field.

he shrugs. “i don’t know, i think it would fit you.”

“but you haven’t read any of my works.”

“but i want to root for you in the same way you do for me. i don’t want you to feel ashamed of your works.” a fire ignites in your heart; it’s a fireplace.

you’re baffled that changmin, out of all people, now holds your secret, but you’re even astounded over the idea of him supporting you. you almost can’t remember the last time you heard such words of support. is it genuine or nothing but a facade?

“anyway, i’ve got to go. i need to catch up on some homework.” while you shoot him a nod, his dimples make their appearance once more. “i’ll see you tomorrow!” as he takes off, you’re left in the gymnasium with your opened notebook and unlocked heart. you look back down at his sketch surrounded by your doodles, but you don’t miss his little note—cute doodles btw <3

the season of spring has unfolded in cheongju; a single lilac has bloomed.

present -> a day before the interview, 2024

it’s a late night on a tuesday, about to be a midnight wednesday, and you’re in a convenience store as you scout for your dinner. all hauled up in the newsroom, the idea of ordering food during a time where restaurants would still be open slipped your mind. now, you’re left to scan through the same options you’ve eaten for the past years since you started living in seoul.

the convenience clerks are familiar with you, both kim jongseob and kim jiwoo. with your constant late-night meals at the store, you’d talk to whichever one had a shift. jongseob is saving up to upgrade his setup at home to record more music. with all the stories he shares about his time in underground rap battles along with the short verses he’s performed for you, you’re positive that he’ll get signed to a label soon. as for jiwoo, this is one of the many jobs she has in order to save enough money for fashion school. you’ve seen her sketches and outfits she’s put together and you’re hoping that she’ll get accepted.

a sigh leaves you. you didn’t have a problem with eating the food here but you were craving for something new in your life in seoul. the perpetual cycle of eating takeout food and unconsciously skipping meals for work needed to be disrupted just for a moment. but you weren’t seeking michelin-star food—all you wanted was something home cooked. something from home.

the spice of tteokbokki, the burn of freshly fried hotteok, and the sweetness of homemade peach iced tea—mr. kim’s convenience store had it all.

your tastebuds long for cheongju.

“planning to beat your record of spending 23 minutes on deciding what to get?”

you roll your eyes before looking to your right, seeing jongseob stock up the drinks in the fridge. “i hate you.”

“what? i’m just saying, you’re taking a lot longer to decide today.” he chuckles before placing the last bottle of sweetened probiotic milk in the fridge. “none of the options look good to you?”

“sort of,” you hum before you scan through the aisle of packaged meals. “i think i’m craving for something different.”

“i get it. the food here can get boring, which is why i’m planning to order pizza if you want to split the costs.”

your eyebrows shoot up at jongseob’s suggestion. “really? you’d share pizza with me?”

“yeah, as long as you pay for your share.” he shoots you a smile before grabbing on a trolley carrying empty boxes. “unless… you want to pay for the whole thing.”

you bite back a smile as you shake your head. you should’ve known the guy would ask you to buy him food, but you knew that he needed the money and you at least had a stable income to keep you comfortable. “fine,” jongseob’s smile grows as you fish out your wallet from your pocket and pull out a couple of bills. “just order enough for us two.”

“of course,” he says as soon as you hand him some money. “i’ll make sure to order the most expensive thing on the menu.”

you scoff at his joke. “just make sure to treat me to something.”

the bell by the door chimes. “sorry, can’t hear you over that! need to attend to a customer!” jongseob dashes away from you while dragging the trolley. that little shit just knew how to press your buttons, but you love the kid, anyway.

still, you stand in the middle of the mart and your heart longs for home.

then, you shut your eyes, and you’re transported back in front of the familiar aisle filled with bags of potato chips and sweet corn. the noisy fan along with the soft sounds of mr. kim’s korean drama fills your ears. a mix of yellow and orange hues paint every corner of the mart, including you—and you’re not alone.

your best friend stands on your right, wearing the unbuttoned school uniform polo over a tank top along with jogging pants. he’s lost in thought as he scans through the options of snacks you two can have for today’s afternoon. he starts to giggle to himself, probably from a silly thought he’ll share with you in the next second or a memory involving you, and the dips in his cheeks appear—your heart thumps in your ears.

and just like how quickly you were transported back to cheongju, your surroundings transformed into the cool-lit convenience store found in seoul. all you have left is the image of him bathed in the sunlight.

but he fades away like the ink on old receipts, never gone, because the glowing image of him warps into a different version who stands next to you in the cold mart. he’s grown a few inches taller and his hair doesn’t get in the way of his line of sight. while he wears a green sweater, you notice that he’s gained some muscles. his eyes scan through the aisle behind you filled with different brands of instant ramen.

but he bites the inside of his cheek and his dimples appear.

it’s a tornado that brews within you, enough to uproot trees and displace buildings, all because of an unexpected reunion with changmin. why did the universe decide to bring two ex-best friends on a random tuesday night? what brings him to the convenience store at the same time you’re there? and why did it have to happen a day before the interview?

you weren’t going to commit the same mistake; keep your eyes off of him and make your way out of the store. it didn’t matter if you had an empty, growling stomach, or gave free money to jongseob. you need to leave without the distant, familiar face noticing.

your feet act fast, and you're almost certain that might’ve caught his attention, but it didn’t matter as you see jongseob standing behind the cashier with his phone out. “i just ordered the pizza. it should arrive in about… 20 to 30 minutes.”

“yeah, about that…”

“don’t tell me you’re taking your money back.”

at the sight of jongseob’s pout, you roll your eyes. “no, keep it. i just—i need to go.”

“what? why?”

you peek behind you. it seems like he didn’t recognize you, after all. “i’ve got… work!”

“but don’t you only have your interview with the bo—”

“hey!” your fingers snap at him. “you cannot—i mean, you just… just take the goddamn money.”

“but we’re supposed to share the pizza. you haven’t eaten.”

an exasperated sigh leaves you. “jongseob, just treat me next time. i can eat at home.”

and you’re ready to leave the convenience store, bid farewell to jongseob and a delicious pizza made for two, and never greet or say goodbye to the living fragment of what you last know of cheongju—

“y/n?”

and the plan failed.

when you meet his gaze, you’re able to take in the different version of him. he’s grown so much—it’s such a pain that you weren’t there to witness it. his eyes are a pool of emotions; you can’t identify them.

all it takes is one breath from you. “changmin.”

a beat passes.

“i’m just gonna… go through the storage,” jongseob points his thumb at the back of the mart, “and maybe kill myself afterwards. i don’t know.” before you can protest, he’s already gone. (and he still has your money. that fucker.)

you and changmin were once painted with the hues of the sun. this reunion is tainted with blue.

changmin’s fingers tense up, almost as if he was hesitating—debating—on how to approach you. his body would waver, but he never took a step towards you. “i… i wasn’t expecting to meet you here.”

“same here.” you lean your back against the checkout counter. “d—do you stay around this part of the city?”

he shakes his head. “i live around 15, maybe 20, minutes away from here. i’m only here because…” your breath gets caught in your throat. “i don’t know.”

fate. that’s what brought us here.

“do you live here?”

you nod. “yeah, ever since—” the sentence never gets completed; you and him already know.

for a moment, sorrow flashes in his eyes, but a smile shows up. the dimples don’t appear. “i, uh, i was going to get something from here but it seems like your friend is busy.”

“sorry about jongseob.” you whip out your phone and scold him through text. “he should be with us in a bit.”

changmin hums before walking to the freezer filled with different ice cream. as he looks through the selection, he asks, “do you still like twin bar?”

“y—yeah.”

“still the grape flavor?” you don’t know what to say, but when his gaze meets yours, you settle for a nod. with your favorite ice cream in one hand and a sandwich in the other, he finally walks towards you. you don’t miss the slight stagger in his steps.

changmin finds his spot beside you. there’s still distance between you two—two tiles worth, enough space for one person—but it’s enough for your muscles to freeze. thankfully, jongseob comes just in time to manage the cashier (with an awkward smile plastered on).

he scans changmin’s item first before grabbing onto your ice cream.

“oh, i’m paying—”

“no, let me,” changmin insists. “you can always treat me another time.”

you bite the inside of your cheek, thinking over the second half of his sentence. jongseob holds back from scanning the item, until you shoot him a nod. changmin pays for the food before jongseob hands them to you.

“i’ll just let you know when the pizza gets here.” his small smile is enough for your shoulders to ease and a quiet exhale to leave. a small nod is all you give him.

you follow changmin outside to the tables in front of the mart. once he’s settled on a spot, you sit across from him. he tears away the plastic wrapping of his food while you play with the ends of yours.

while he swallows what you assume to be his dinner of the day, you’re left to swallow your own pride.

“i’ve seen your performances.” his chews halt. “you’re—” captivating. “you’ve improved a lot.”

with one gulp, a shy smile takes over his face. “i still have a long way to go.”

“you always say that, even back then.” a half bitten sandwich now rests on the wrapper. “but i admire your drive.” always have.

while a different version of changmin sits across you, the one you knew back in cheongju still lives. in the busy, unfamiliar expanse of seoul, meeting 10 years later, he’ll never be stranger. you could never treat him as such, even if you wanted to.

“there’s always room for improvement,” he says.

you hum along with his sentiment. “did you stick with early childhood education?” you’re met with his orbs that hold a thousand of emotions, some you can name as shock, confusion. a question hangs in the air—what did you deserve to know?

“sorry, i’m assuming you still went to college, which is totally fine if you did or didn’t, by the way. and it’s also okay if you didn’t stick to your major. i mean, you always talked about pursuing a performing arts degree before—”

“y/n,” he giggles, “you’re okay. i still went to college but i took media & communication.” your eyebrows shoot up at the revelation. “i thought it made sense to study something related to what i do, just the more technical and theoretical side of it, i guess. and the online classes were easy to squeeze into my schedule.” he lifts up the sandwich. “what about you?”

“uh, i ended up in the same course as well.” a hum of shock leaves changmin. “yeah,” you chuckle, “i managed to shift courses.”

“that’s amazing! i’m happy for you.”

you smile at him. “thanks. now, i’m just—” you should tell him what you do. what would be a better time to reveal that you ended up in the path he dreamed for you to be than now? “—figuring things out.”

with your vagueness, changmin only nods before munching away. if there’s anything about you that still remains, it’s that you shouldn’t be pushed to share something you didn’t want to talk about. he still knew that.

as he finishes his sandwich, you tear off the plastic wrapping of your ice cream. with the twin bar in your hands, you snap it into two before you hand him a piece. confusion paints his features, wide eyes glossing over the popsicle in your hand, but he takes it before you can say anything.

“thanks.”

you shake your head. “don’t even worry about it. it’s only tradition.”

silence settles between you two. as you eat away on your share of the twin bar, you look up to the sky. from where you sit, you can’t see a single star; the lights of seoul seemed to outshine them. and during those moments, you almost can’t help but miss the view of the starry night from your childhood room.

you glance at changmin who looks up to the sky as well. yet, one hand remains in his pocket, almost as if he’s fiddling with something.

as if he feels your eyes on him, he asks, “did you ever think about coming back?”

you halt your movements. if there’s one thing you were expecting your old friend to ask, it would be related to your sudden departure. but you’re hit with an entirely different question, one you didn’t get to rehearse the answer to in case you ever cross paths with him.

because after all this talk about your yearning for cheongju, why didn’t you choose to visit? despite how much you long mr. kim’s home cooked meals, skies filled with stars, or the presence of your best friend, why didn’t you ever come back?

if you miss home, why is your first instinct to run away from it?

and the reality is that you do think about it all the time. since you left cheongju, you drafted out how many plans to go back. you were homesick, missing the familiar landscape you spent your entire childhood growing up in. but most of all, you missed changmin. as long as you had him, you would survive anywhere, whether in seoul or cheongju.

despite how much you yearned for him during your years away, you learned that your relationship wasn’t always filled with the warmth that would grace you two every afternoon. for so long, you’ve sat with jealousy. while his family was his pillar of strength, you were met with a home that offered nothing but criticism.

the black limbs slowly ate away at your heart; the void was born.

it became easier to remain resentful. with the distance, you weren’t faced with changmin’s genuineness. yet, with time, you discovered that you still cared for him—regardless of your jealousy—because you still wanted more for him than you did for yourself.

for a long time, you resented. now, it’s only guilt that held you back from going back to him.

so when you remain silent, changmin takes it as your answer.

and for the first time, the distance feels greater since you first left cheongju.

summer of 2014

it’s the peak of summer. amidst the expanse of verdant fields, bees seek solace in the fully-bloomed sunflowers and kaleidoscope wings illuminate as they soar.

but summer is where mouths go dry and clothes cling to skin. as days blend with each other, the comfort of your bed is all you have until the season passes.

the fan rumbles against the wooden floor, doing its best to cool you, but the heat prickles against the back of your neck. the wind has turned into nothing but hot waves. with your elbows perched on the desk, a sigh leaves you as you attempt to make sense of the worksheet filled with math equations.

your room is your favorite place in cheongju. within these four walls are scattered fragments of you, from your favorite books and mangas that rest on the bookshelf to the stuffed toys that rest on your bed. book tabs stick out of your workbooks lined up on your desk and your cork board is filled with crossed out to-do lists.

and every once in a while, you would look out through your window, admiring the neighboring houses and all their greenery. as people walk on pavements, you cannot help but think about where they’re off to—are they on their way to work? did they leave an important document back home? or are they coming back to a meal and home filled with warmth?

despite the halo soundtrack filling your ears, the cogs in your brain seem to drown them out. the numbers on your paper have jumbled up. it should’ve been easy. after all, you’ve become friends with the letters who’ve squeezed their way into math. once you’ve wrapped up on this assignment, you know you’ll wake up to another set of work to do. it didn’t help that you’re stuck watching kids your age enjoy their break.

with a tired mind, you consider making yourself another cup of iced coffee. maybe another dose of caffeine will make sense of the numbers—

your phone buzzes against your table. as your eyes rip from the unfinished worksheet, you spot the familiar name flashing on the screen. with one glance at your door, you bring your headphones to rest around your neck. it takes three rings for you to answer.

“what do you want?”

“the fuck? what’s wrong with you?”

you roll your eyes as you fiddle with your pen. “i’m studying, you fucker.”

“on a sunday?” changmin’s question has you only groan. “what happened to resting?”

“i wish,” you murmur as you scratch the back of your head. “i’ve been stuck on this stupid worksheet for the past hours. it’s annoying too. i mean, i already know this topic, so i don’t know why it’s so hard.”

“awe, is my best friend suffering over kumon?”

your forehead rests on crossed arms. “yes. i think i’m going to die.”

“okay, then. i’ll take that as my sign.”

“sign to what?”

he chuckles as if it were obvious. “to save you! let’s go to mr. kim’s.”

a groan leaves you as your back meets the chair. “no, i can’t. do you know what would happen if i don’t finish my kumon?”

“uh… no?”

“me, neither. i’m not taking my chances.”

“but, you’re not even doing anything!” changmin pointing out the obvious has you rolling your eyes. “wouldn’t it be better to take a break with your best friend? i can even help out.”

as you bite the inside of your cheek, you glance once more at your closed door. you weigh it out; would you rather take a break with your best friend or would you save yourself from the consequences brought by home?

but the answer was already clear. “give me 10 minutes.”

changmin laughs before you drop the call.

it’s the smell of fresh hotteok that greets you. the quiet buzzing of the fan accompanied by mr. kim’s favorite trot music fills your ears. while the owner seems to be away from the cashier, a white, stray cat takes over, body flopped on the counter as it snores away the heat. as the sun pours through windows, coating every corner of the mart with a glow of fireflies, you know this will be a place of its own.

“y/n, over here!” a familiar voice calls out. as you whip your head to the source, you see your best friend by the chest freezer, eyes crinkled and all dimples.

now, you’re certain that nothing could ever replicate this.

you walk towards changmin, finding your spot beside him as you two look through the collection of frozen treats. “so, what do you want from here?” you ask.

“uh… i’ll be honest, i just realized i’m short on money.”

you glance through the price tags, only for a groan to leave you. “i’m short too. when did mr. kim raise the prices?”

“no clue. i thought i’d have enough to get a summer crush,” changmin complains as his eyes are glued to the coffee sorbet. “i hate inflation.”

“come on.” you fish out for the coins in your pocket. “let’s see how much we have together.” changmin does the same. with palms out, you two count through your shared funds.

“we can get a summer crush!”

“you can get one. i’ll be left with barely anything.” you look through the selection once more. “man, i really want samanco. the red bean sounds so good right now.”

defeat casts over changmin’s features. for a moment, you almost consider giving up on having a frozen treat and settling for a glass bottle of orange soda, until you spot a familiar popsicle brand.

“holy shit, it’s right there.”

“what?”

“there!” your finger points at the stack of twin bars. “we can probably get that and split it.”

changmin’s expression morphs into realization. “okay, let’s get—”

“dibs on grape.”

“dibs?” he furrows his eyebrows at you. “you can’t just call dibs. you’re doing it wrong. clearly, we should discuss—”

“nope,” you retort. a chuckle laced with disbelief leaves your best friend. to him, it seemed like you were joking around. “i made the suggestion and contributed a lot more to our shared funds.”

“okay, but—”

“don’t tell me you want the peach flavor more than the grape.” as you continue to shut him down, he knows there’s no way around you.

(plus, he wasn’t a fan of peach-flavored things, anyway. how unfortunate that mr. kim only has those two flavors right now.)

“next time, we’re choosing a flavor that i want,” he gives in. you let out a cheer before grabbing the frozen treat.

you two make your way back to the cashier and spot mr. kim slouched in front of the television, hand stroking the sleepy feline. he’s still wearing an old, red plaid apron on top of a pair of basketball shorts and a loose graphic tee which had the name of a band you’re unfamiliar with. with how he sits, you’re afraid that his back problems will get even worse. (still, you don’t say anything. he’ll only play it off and say he’s still one of the “youngins”... whatever that means.)

once his eyes land on you two, a grin takes over. “ah, my favorite kids! it’s nice to see you both.”

“yeah, it’s been a while,” changmin starts off. “y/n’s always busy with kumon.”

you narrow your eyes at the boy. “hey! you’re busy, too! you’ve been practicing at the studio almost every day!” the wrapped popsicle now rests on the counter. “every time i’m free, you’re not.”

“hey! whenever you’re free, i’m tired from training!”

“okay, let’s settle down,” mr. kim breaks up the banter. he then takes note of the ice cream on the cashier, the price showing up on the cashier. “isn’t the heat hard enough for you two to be studying or practicing?”

“yes, very much.” you count the coins once more before dropping the exact amount on the counter. “but,” you glance at changmin and his disheartened expression is enough for mountains to move, “i don’t think we have a choice.”

in reality, these were the circumstances you two had to work and live with. during the days changmin ended practice early, you were drowning in summer school assessments. whenever you managed to finish your homework, it would be during the hours your best friend was off at the studio or passed out at home from exhaustion.

“choice, no choice, people always say that.” mr. kim counts your payment before putting it into the cashier. as he takes note of what you’ve bought, he says, “everyone has a choice. i’m sure you two can figure it out.”

the only difference is that one chose this path; the other had to suffer from the decision forced onto them.

“don’t worry, mr. kim,” changmin nudges your shoulder. “i’m sure we’ll figure it out.” and when the dips in his cheeks appear, you find yourself smiling back.

maybe you were okay with the life you had to live, just maybe.

“anyway, we’ll go ahead,” changmin bids farewell to mr. kim.

you giggle. “he means we’re just going to eat our ice cream at the front.”

as you two slowly make your way out of the mart, mr. kim shakes his head. “you lovebirds go ahead. i’ll see you next time!”

“mr. kim!” you and changmin shout in unison before glancing at each other.

“what?!”

your best friend groans. “you know we aren’t together.”

“yeah! like, i can’t imagine it,” you join in.

still, the owner laughs at your reactions. “you two are so funny. just go and enjoy your ice cream.”

you roll your eyes at his words. “bye, mr. kim!”

with that, you and changmin were out of the mart and took a seat on the benches. you hand your best friend the wrapped frozen treat before letting out a sigh. “i still can’t believe this is one of the few times we got to meet up during the break.”

“i know.” he tears the plastic wrapping off. “you would think that summer break would mean we get to hang out nonstop, but i’m starting to think we saw each other more whenever we had school.”

you hum. “i know. and i had ap stat while you had training.” your eyes dart at changmin who grips onto the popsicle sticks, struggling to split it into two. “oh my god, don’t tell me you can’t split it.”

“hey! it’s hard.”

as you giggle, you reach your hand out. “let me do it.” once changmin hands you the twin bar, you attempt to split the two. for a moment, you almost think about agreeing with him. yet, the frozen treat splits into two perfectly, and a satisfied smile rests on your lips.

you hand him one popsicle, only to be met with his glare. “i know, i’m just better.”

“just shut up.” to that, another laugh leaves you.

under the sun, you enjoy the coolness of the twin bar. while you would’ve stared off to nowhere, you and changmin were here at the right time to catch civilians bustling away. some were on dates, where one would go on about their interest while the other would smile at their rambling. there were kids whose chatter could be heard all the way from the end of the block, and blue-collar men who were off to enjoy their break.

you can’t help but imagine what people saw—thought—of you and changmin. did they think of you as unexpected friends? has it ever crossed their minds that you two were only classmates who seemed to always be paired together? or did they ever think the same as mr. kim?

“you know,” changmin starts off, causing you to look at him, “i was going through college courses the other day.”

your eyebrows shoot up. “oh?”

with your reaction, changmin giggles. “i was just curious, you know? not that i’m giving up on dance or anything, but,” he licks the popsicle, “early childhood education sounds cool.”

you hum. “i wasn’t expecting that.”

“what’s that supposed to mean?”

“no, it’s not a bad thing!” you reassure the boy. “it’s just,” you rip your gaze off of changmin and look at the playground, “i always thought of you as a dancer, you know? kind of like you were meant for the stage.” the laughter of the kids who passed by you two bounces all over the block and you can’t help but smile. “but i don’t doubt it.”

the breeze graces your sweat-covered skin. “what about you?” you look back at him. “would you ever consider journalism? maybe communication as your major?”

you’re quick to laugh at his suggestion, but when confusion paints his features, you realize it’s a serious question from him.

“no.” it’s a straightforward answer from you, but changmin could never settle with that

“why not?”

a sigh leaves you. “i just don’t consider it. i mean, i think about it,” all the time, “but not enough to consider it. plus, astrophysics is cool.”

“but is it your dream?”

changmin’s question is an easy one to answer—not at all. you’ve had enough learning about theories and making sense of the numbers. if your future is going to only complicate that further, then maybe astrophysics isn’t made for you.

but who’s to say that you’ll even enjoy journalism?

“we’ll see.” you leave it at that and changmin didn’t push for more.

because the reality is that if you ever did consider it, transform those dreams into action plans, you were terrified to be met with your parents’ disappointment—it wouldn’t only be from your lousy desires but from changmin’s role in your life.

the first time you mentioned changmin to your parents happened over dinner, letting them know you would be staying later at school to work on the final project for art class with him. they didn’t bat an eye at his name as they continued to talk about what happened during work and pester you about your progress in other classes. (art class didn’t matter to them, only the sciences and math were ones they seemed to track. still, they would criticize you if you didn’t place first honors.)

with your parents’ oversight, something blossomed between you and changmin. from there, there were more days you would get home later than usual. while you were still on top of your work, they took your late arrivals as a form of negligence.

all it took was one night for them to demand an explanation. the reappearance of him in the conversation had only caused them to reprimand you—changmin’s not like you. he’ll only hold you back.

from that day on, you’ve learned to keep his name out of conversations. you’ll enjoy what you have with changmin, even if it has to be kept under the wraps.

“how’s training?” you change the subject, trying to keep the attention off of your failed dreams to changmin’s flourishing ones.

“well, it’s a lot,” he chuckles as he munches a piece. “you already know that it takes how many hours to get to the company, and the hours i spend in the practice room are unlike the trainings i have at school.”

as his eyes meet yours, you only shoot him an apologetic smile. it was never going to be easy; you two knew that before changmin entered the doors of the company. yet, he still held on.

“you know, i never considered it before, but i like where i’m going,” he admits. “even if i’ve always had dreams to pursue dance, i want to make my family proud if i ever get to debut.”

changmin knows how to persevere. regardless of all the bruises he gets from performing complex dance routines or the hours of sleep he longs for, he knows how to hold on. you wish you could say the same for yourself.

“and you will,” you reassure the boy, wrapping your arm around his shoulders. “who wouldn’t be proud of you?”

he holds your stare and your smile falters. for a moment, you don’t know if you touched on a sensitive topic. would he shrug your arm off? do you think he’ll shut you off, maybe cut your time together short? will changmin get mad at you for something you didn’t know was wrong? would he be just like them?

“i want to make you proud.”

that’s enough to answer it all.

you shake your head. “don’t even doubt that for a second.” your arm finds it spot back to your side, and changmin’s loops his with yours.

although he knows how to persevere, he never knows when to shut his ears from the shadows.

“i am proud of you,” you tell him. “always have, always will.” he can’t help but smile. all you can hope is that he’ll listen closely to your voice.

“i almost forgot,” he says out of nowhere.

“forgot what?”

as he tugs his arm away, his hand fishes for something in his pocket. “close your eyes.” you furrow your eyebrows. “just do it!” you follow his orders. “and keep them closed, okay?” you let out a hum.

before you know it, something wraps around your index finger. you would’ve opened your eyes, confused over the foreign yet familiar material, but they remain shut.

“okay, open.”

your gaze rests on your finger wrapped in yellow and blue. it’s a finger trap—and the other end is connected to changmin. despite your tug, it still holds you two together.

it’s the warmth that fills your cheeks, the heartbeat in your ears, and your starstruck eyes that has him smile. “no matter what happens, we’ll stick together, okay? regardless of what paths we end up pursuing. all that matters is that we have each other.”

he’s filled with hope. hope for his dreams. hope for your relationship. hope for what the future holds for you two. you can’t help but hope as well.

all it takes is a nod from you to solidify the promise to the universe.

you two sit in silence, finishing up the popsicles as people continue to pass by. at one point, you heard mr. kim let out a curse over the drama he’s watching. the sun is about to set, wrapping you two in a golden blanket, and all that matters is the finger trap.

present -> two weeks before the interview, 2024

it’s no surprise to you that the newsroom is quiet. while your peers are off to gather more information, you’re with lee chaeyeon of news as she tries to meet the deadline for her article’s first close.

“do you think dokyeom will be late?” you ask as you watch her rephrase sentences.

she laughs. “when is he never? minho’s always assigning him coverages.”

“that’s true.” your eyes drift to the hallway. “i’m just hungry. he still owes me food, you know?”

“over another bet? or you saving his ass?”

“over helping him with an article,” you reveal, earning a shocked look from her. “for some odd reason, he needed another writer to help out with a live coverage, and all the sports writers and sports editor were busy handling the other events.”

“holy shit.” chaeyeon continues with her work. “i didn’t expect you to work on anything sports-related.”

“yeah, but it helped that it was a dance competition. at least i know something about dance.” you only know who to thank. “i’m going to make sure i get compensated for that. i’m planning to raise it to minho and namjoon, anyway. that’s if dokyeom would fucking come and help in explaining the situation.”

with the mention of the tardy writer’s name, he’s scrambling through the halls with his backpack in one hand and a paper bag in the other. the moment he sees you, he shoots you an apologetic smile.

“speak of the devil,” you say as you stand up straight. “why do you always show up late? i helped you with the article.”

dokyeom finds his spot beside you as he sets down the bag on your desk. “i’ll have you know that wasn’t the only article i had yesterday. i was catching up on other ones that minho assigned me.” before he can plop down on his seat, he spots chaeyeon working. “damn, tough life at news.”

“no need to point out the obvious, doofus.”

“wow, harsh,” he replies to her insult. “just so you know, i bought food for us.”

“thank god,” you exclaim as you open the paper bag filled with takeout containers and sealed cups. as you pull them out one by one, you spot your usual order from the vietnamese restaurant around the corner. “oh my god, thank you for getting me this.” you take a seat before you pass dokyeom his food and utensils.

“yeah, i know. i’m just the best.” his shower of compliments for himself only has you rolling your eyes. “but thank you, by the way, for helping me out with the article. i needed an extra pair of hands and my own editor couldn’t stand in to help out.”

“it’s fine. just make sure you help me get compensated for that article,” you say before you open the container. as the smell of bun bo nam bo fills your nose, you can’t help but let out a quiet moan. “holy fuck, i’ve been craving this.”

“i made sure to get you some vietnamese coffee also.”

“yeah, i saw. thank you.” you split the chopsticks with one hand. you’re about to mix the bowl of your favorite food—

“is y/n here?” your editor calls out, causing you to let out a sigh before you stand up from your seat.

“yes?”

namjoon’s gaze lands on you. “can i talk to you for a bit?”

despite your grumbling stomach, you give him a nod and set your food down. as he retreats to his office, you glare at dokyeom who munches away on goi cuon. “i hate you.”

“hey, what did i do?!” you ignore his attempts to defend himself as you make your way to your editor’s office.

once you swing the door open, you spot namjoon whose eyes are stuck to the screen. “you can take a seat,” he says with no attempt to look at you. you sit across from him, hands folded on your lap, while he types away on his keyboard.

the moment he hits the ‘enter’ key is when he finally looks at you. “sorry about that. i was just replying to minho regarding your compensation for the article you worked with dokyeom. we both appreciate what you did. next time though, make sure to loop in minho or me before you two start working on beats not within your staffs.”

“sorry about that,” you start off. “dokyeom only asked for my help and i thought it would be fine since i’m familiar with dance, anyway.”

namjoon shakes his head with a small smile plastered on his face. “it is fine, just make sure to inform us.” you only nod.

“anyway, i’m sorry to have this meeting with you right now but i have to leave work early today, and i thought that you’d appreciate that i tell this to you now instead of tomorrow,” he says. you hum, curious about what he has to say. “i have a coverage for you, a very, very, long one.”

over the sight of your wide eyes, he can’t help but chuckle. “it’s 12 articles,” he says and your mouth gapes over the number. “well, one main article and 11 profiles with very brief introductory paragraphs.” his attempt to ease your shocked state does nothing.

“namjoon, that’s… a lot.”

“yes, i know. i would love to split the workload but everyone else is handling other articles, and i trust you. i know i’m asking for a lot but i’ll make sure to help you out with them. it’s just that we’re working on a time crunch and i don’t know anyone else i can ask but you.”

the faith that your editor seems to have in you is like no other.

“profiles, like, those q&a transcripts?” you ask.

he nods before saying, “yes, and just a brief introductory paragraph for each profile. i’m just expecting you to put more work into the article about the group. i’ll make sure to help out with the profiles.”

namjoon’s trust should be anxiety inducing, enough to send you complaining, but you find yourself relieved. your mentor became your second-in-command; the mountain of workload transformed into a hill.

“okay.”

a relaxed smile appears on his face at your acceptance. “thank god! i was going to stress about this the whole day if you refused. i’ll make sure to send you the details about this once i’m done with my appointments, and then we can see how we’ll divide the work later on.” he types something. “we’re covering a k-pop group which is why there’s one main article about the whole group and then 11 profiles.”

“yeah, i figured that out.” this isn’t anything out of your usual articles. “can i ask who we’re interviewing? maybe i can do some research on them while you attend your meetings.” you pull out your phone, ready to search up whoever your editor says.

“don’t know if you’re familiar with them but they’re called the boyz?” you still in your seat. “wait, let me check. yes, that’s their name.”

“the boyz?”

namjoon looks at you, now met with your features that have transformed from wide eyes to scrunched eyebrows. “yeah. do you know them?”

you shake your head without a second thought. “no, i don’t think i do,” you whisper the last sentence to yourself. his narrow eyes look over you, almost dissecting you.

the walls surrounding you are painted in solid colors of pearl, almost untouched. yet, under the paint are cracks that spread like cobwebs. every burst is a testament to the earthquakes they’ve faced; no one should be able to see a single line of black amid the white sea. now, they’re filled with paste, and it should be enough to cover them all.

but for the first time, the paint has chipped and the paste has deteriorated; the different colors of cheongju seep through the cracks.

you clear your throat as you straighten your back. “i’ll be sure to research them.” you wave your phone at him, hoping to divert his attention, but his gaze remains on you.

a sigh leaves him. “okay. expect to receive the documents later in the afternoon.”

he doesn’t push any further. for now, the walls remain intact. (or appear as so.)

it was never going to be easy.

“honestly, i gave up expecting to win as we practiced,” the youngest says through tears. as they huddle, they let out silent wishes for the upcoming years. before they blow the candle, they don’t forget to express their gratitude to the fandom who stuck with them through thick and thin.

a time of celebration turned into a moment to remember their struggles. these were pockets of their time that marked their spot in history.

“oh, everyone behind us is crying!” another member points out as the camera captures the team’s bittersweet cries.

and when you catch sight of the orange-haired boy who hides his tears behind his friend, the ache in your chest starts to spread through your veins. the video cuts to his low-hanging head as his members comfort him. they knew all of his hardships—you only know a fraction.

such a tender moment happened five years ago; it’s the same amount of time between this achievement and your departure. within those years, what did changmin undergo? did his trainings waver his passion or did the fire burn just as bright as it did since he first auditioned? was he confident in his skills or was he still critical about every performance he had?

but most of all, what did he face? what did he learn? to hate? to love?

what did he go through without you?

you don’t forget to take note of their first win on your document filled with bullet points of information. while you were going to continue watching, a recommended video caught your attention. it’s a changmin focus. you don’t hesitate to click it.

the video starts off with him checking up on the fans before the performance starts. as he mimes out eating, they answer his question with reassurance.

and there they come—his dimples appear.

it transitions to their group in their opening formation. as they await for the song to play out, changmin’s familiar smile shifts into a dominant gaze.

in the same way the first notes draw people to listen, your eyes never leave the boy. his movements are fluid, like water droplets sliding off leaves. he commands the stage regardless of where he’s positioned.

changmin is meant to be on the stage—no, every stage is made for him. every crowd is meant to cheer his name and remain captive to his talents, and every spotlight is meant to shine on him.

you rest your chin on crossed arms. long gone was the bowl cut and loose school uniform. he’s grown. matured, even. yet, the moments where his smile appears makes you realize one thing: the 16-year-old boy you knew still lives within him.

as their performance comes to an end, you don’t bother to move your cursor, letting the next recommended video play. and when his vlog plays out, you realize that a fragment of his identity is a whole of what you know.

what an honor it is to have known him for even a fraction of your lifetime.

his voice is a lullaby, the same one you used to fall asleep to, so you allow yourself to close your eyes. you let go of the responsibilities for just this moment, and allow yourself to be transported back into the warmth of his arms.

fall of 2014

out of all the seasons, autumn took its spot in being your favorite. clusters of green slowly morph into shades of oranges and browns. it’s a symphony of chirps that fills the silence. while the breeze brings you comfort after the heat of summer, it also reminds you of the looming winter.

it’s a shame that autumn does live up to its other name: a season of fall.

“you’re always like this,” your mother comments. you stand in front of your parents, slumped shoulders and downcast eyes, as they hold a sheet of paper they believe dictates your future. “always so sensitive. we’re just asking you what went different. why did your grades drop?” to them, a shift from a to b+ is a threat to your future.

while your feet stand on wooden floors, a flood starts to form. murky waves crash against your legs, but you do your best to keep your balance.

“answer us when you’re being talked to.” your father snaps you out of your thoughts. “what have you been doing for your grades to drop?” you want to answer but a single sound that leaves you may only lead to blubbers that your parents will scold you for.

with your silence, your mother sneers. “i knew we shouldn’t have let you do your own things. i told you so.” she shifts her gaze to him. “what did i tell you about y/n? you know they’ll only slack off!”

“i thought we could trust them. clearly, i was wrong.” your father’s glare raises the water levels, reaching your chest. you don’t know how to swim in the foggy ocean.

“i know why.” she crosses her arms. “it’s because of that changmin boy, isn’t it?” she says his name laced with disgust.

you don’t think twice to defend him. “no, it isn’t!”

“don’t you dare talk back at me!”

“but i’m not! he’s done nothing.”

your father begins to raise his voice. “and that’s what’s wrong! that lazy boy does nothing for his studies. he clearly doesn’t care about his future.”

you always knew it would be a losing battle, but you’ll put up the fight to protect your best friend’s name. “that’s not true! he does care. he’s planning to do early childhood education for college, maybe become a teacher.”

“that job has no money. see, i can already see that you’re being influenced by him,” he argues back.

and as the murky waters rise, filling your lungs, your first instinct is to close your eyes and scream. “stop saying that about him!”

a beat passes.

“i don’t want you hanging out with him.”

“but—”

“shut up.” your mother’s words cause you to look up, meeting your parents’ faces filled with anger. “go to your room. now.” you’re nothing but a puppet for them.

was it even a battle if you always knew you were going to lose?

despite the safety of your room, you don’t let the tears flow down. you do anything to distract yourself; maybe a book will convince you that your life is only a figment of your imagination.

waves continue to crash against your body. if you let them take your body, would they send you far away from cheongju? from your parents? from the weight you were entrusted to carry since birth?

but would you allow the waves to send you away from changmin?

your phone buzzes against the mattress. with tear-filled eyes, you see your best friend trying to reach you. you don’t think twice about declining his call and shutting off your phone.

as you curl in your bed, you hope the sea will swallow you whole—the slow, burning pain that comes with drowning won’t compare to the burns that haven’t healed. but you know that the blame rests on your shoulders. if only you had studied harder, cut off hours of rest for your work, then maybe you would be the perfect child your parents wanted.

were you wrong for allowing yourself to enjoy the small breaks between classes? was the time spent in the mart supposed to be for schoolwork? should you have found yourself a tutor? were you in the wrong for not working yourself to the bone? did you not work enough?

are you not enough?

then, a knock. your eyes snap open. like a stroke of light in the middle of the dark, changmin is by your window.

you get off your bed to open the window. as the glass barrier disappears, he enters your room. “are you okay?” he spots your glassy eyes and his hands find their spot on your shoulders. “what happened?”

you break eye contact. “what do you want, changmin?”

“you didn’t pick up your phone. and when i tried calling again, i couldn’t reach you,” he starts to explain.

you shrug off his grip on you before you take a seat on your bed. “i’m fine. my phone died.” as you feel the spot beside you dip, you look at your best friend. at the sight of his furrowed eyebrows, you know he doesn’t believe you. “i said i’m fine.”

“i didn’t say anything.” for you are an open book to him.

he opens his arms towards you—it’s your move to make. then, a tight-lipped smile shows on his face, his dimples appear, and you allow yourself to fall. with his arms wrapped around you, you shut your eyes as you nestle your face into his neck.

breathe in. breathe out.

his hand finds its spot on your back, rubbing it in circles.

breathe in. breathe out.

“it’s okay, i’m here,” he says, and you allow yourself to crumble in front of him for the first time.

the tears hit changmin’s neck like a light drizzle. your wails bring earthquakes into his world.

yet, his warmth is enough to dry up droplets, and his embrace protects you as you fall into the cracks of the earth and into the depths of the world. the flood starts to subside.

in your time knowing changmin, how much did he know about you after all? had he always known of your strained relationship with your parents? did he hear about it from others or was he able to connect the dots?

because you didn’t know yourself outside of your parents anymore. did you like science because of your kumon classes? was your interest in writing birthed from a desire for validation from your parents?

are you nothing but an array of achievements and failures?

but your parents will never be satisfied; a standard too high is practically nonexistent.

changmin moves so that you two can lie down. his arms remain wrapped around you as you hide in his neck. “i’m sorry if i wasn’t there for you when you needed it then.” his whispered apology causes you to shake your head.

“you didn’t do anything wrong,” you blubber out to his neck.

“and you didn’t, as well.” his hand finds its spot behind your head. with every stroke, a tear streams down. “and i want you to know that i’ll be here for you.”

in your house, your room was the only space you called home. solace built by you.

now, your home is changmin.

present -> two weeks before the interview, 2024

something about the newsroom feels odd to you. there’s nothing out of the ordinary aside from it bustling with journalists. the familiar sounds of printers and chatter from your workmates fill your ears. it’s a typical occurrence for your peers to meet their deadlines on the day itself. the tug in your gut doesn’t resemble ones formed out of your anxiety. why does it feel like one of destiny?

“where is dokyeom? i swear, this guy never shows up to the office.”

you snap out of your thoughts, looking over at chaeyeon who browses through her phone. as you shove a bill into the vending machine, a chuckle leaves you. “when is he never?”

“maybe if he finishes his coverages on time then he’d be getting enough sleep. then, he won’t be late.”

you side-eye your friend before you click on a button. “you know that’s not true.”

she sighs at the same time your bottle of iced tea drops. “yeah. apparently, if you have free time, you’re not a good journalist or some shit which i find stupid.” you grab your drink before facing her. “am i not allowed to do something else that’s not related to my job? i swear, this is why i’m single.”

“then date another journalist.” your joke earns a scowl from her.

“i’m never dating anyone in my field. a journalist dating another journalist is like,” she looks up to the ceiling as she thinks, “a long distance relationship with how much they’ll never see or have time for each other.”

a laugh erupts from you, one that may be too loud for your liking. “true.”

as you walk out of the breakroom with chaeyeon, you notice something in the corner of your eye: a brunette by the restroom. while you can’t see his face, you spot what’s in his hand and you halt in your tracks—a finger trap.

“hey, is there someone there?” your eyes snap back to your friend who looks at you in confusion. when your eyes drift back to where the brunette once was, he’s already gone. you shake your head before walking back to your desk.

the same gut feeling lingers. with a frown, you open up your article only to be met with a few comments that namjoon left last night. maybe your gut knew that you weren’t done with your work. thankfully, it’s nothing too major, and you can have them done within the next few minutes.

“there you are!” chaeyeon exclaims, causing you to look up from your screen to a panting dokyeom. “were you working on your articles again?”

“actually, i went out last night.” while you shake your head at dokyeom’s reveal, chaeyeon gasps. “yeah, i did! i actually had fun for once!”

as he nods proudly at last night’s events, she complains, “are you serious?! how come you have time to go out? i was just talking to y/n that we never have time to ourselves.”

“i’m in sports,” he points out as he shrugs his shoulders. “you’re in news.” at this point, you’re expecting the two to spiral into an argument, so you redirect your focus back to your article.

“hey, did you hear though? there’s a k-pop group in the building.” you glance at chaeyeon.

your other friend leans on the cubicle. “really? who?”

“no clue.”

dokyeom lets out a groan. “what type of journalist are you if you can’t find out?”

“yah!” chaeyeon smacks his arm, causing him to wince in pain. “says you who can never submit on time.”

“hey, i’ll have you know that minho has been understanding!”

“whatever.” she rolls her eyes before looking at you. “that means you’ll probably be handling them. i hope they’re cute so that you can finally have something going on with your life outside of work.”

a chuckle leaves you as you get back to work. “i’m never dating an idol. i’d get hunted down by their fans.”

“yeah, but can’t you dream a little? do you ever imagine what it would be like?”

the past plays in your mind. after school performances and interviews. broken-up popsicles. finger traps. a life you shared with changmin then—one you still cling onto.

yet, you shake your head as you edit your article. “not even.”

it’s a life you’ll keep to yourself.

“what’s the update?”

the three of you look away from each other, spotting namjoon who comes to you with a smile. long gone were the sweaters that failed to drown out his figure and the boxy glasses that would rest on the bridge of his nose. now, he wears a dress shirt and trousers with hair slicked to the side. there were no frames for him to hide behind.

“ah, namjoon! you’re dressed so nice today.”

with dokyeom’s compliment, he can’t hold back on his smile. “thank you. are you guys done with your articles?”

as your friends nod, you add the finishing touches to the document. “and done! i just finished addressing your comments.”

“great. thanks, y/n.”

“do you have something?” chaeyeon asks your editor, causing you to roll your eyes. one thing about journalists is that they love to know everything.

namjoon nods before saying, “i just had a meeting with some possible interviewees.”

“is this the one with the k-pop group?” as dokyeom asks the question, you can’t help but laugh as chaeyeon looks at him in disbelief for spilling confidential information.

your editor chuckles. “yes.”

“can we know—”

“no, you can’t know.”

chaeyeon pouts at namjoon. “not even a hint?”

namjoon ignores her question and begins to walk off. “good work, y/n!” he calls out before leaving you three alone.

“man, namjoon never tells us shit,” chaeyeon complains as she leans on the table.

“to you guys, at least,” you argue with a small shrug.

still, the gut feeling remains.

something about the newsroom feels odd to changmin. while he’s had his fair share of paranormal experiences, his gut tells him that there’s something in the office. yet, the tug isn’t one that speaks of danger. why does it feel like one of destiny?

“should we have a short break before we discuss the schedules for the photoshoots and interviews?” changmin is snapped out of his thoughts by namjoon’s suggestion.

his manager looks at the group. “do you guys need a break?”

sangyeon shoots namjoon a smile before looking at his members. “you guys can use the washroom if you need to.”

although everyone seemed fine with proceeding, changmin couldn’t shake off the feeling. maybe the leftover curry he had this morning went bad. “i’ll go,” he says as he gets off his seat.

namjoon slowly stands up. “okay, i can bring you there—”

“it’s okay! i saw the washroom on the way here,” changmin says before walking to the door. “you can discuss the details without me. i’m sure you guys will manage.”

with sangyeon’s and his manager’s nods, namjoon settles back into his seat. “okay then, here are some of the dates i have in mind...”

changmin exits the room. he bites on the inside of the cheek as he thinks of what his gut could be telling him. is it the nerves for the upcoming tour? is he worried about the next comeback they’ve been preparing? or is he scared about what the future has in store for his group?

with his mind on these questions, he doesn’t realize that he arrives in front of the bathroom door. a sigh of frustration leaves him. the worst thing about gut feelings is never knowing what they’re trying to say.

he grips the handle, ready to swing the door open, until a familiar laugh hits his ears. one of the past. one he hasn’t heard in years. his muscles freeze.

when was the last time he heard that chortle? when was the last time he became the cause of it?

his eyes dart around the area for the source but no one else is here. he can’t help but shake his head in disbelief.

it should be stupid for him to think you two would ever reunite. in what world would you be in the same place as he is? it’s been 10 years. you could be anywhere around the world. yet, he fishes for something out of his pocket; the same finger trap he linked you to him rests on the palm of his hand.

he sighs before entering the washroom and shoving it back into his pocket.

maybe he’ll hold out a little longer.

winter of 2014

out of all the seasons, changmin’s favorite is winter. snowflakes fall, filling the sky with stars that people can touch, and snow piles on sidewalks, letting him throw snowballs at his friends. despite the freezing temperatures, changmin prefers this over nearly-boiling ones.

he can’t wait to share this season with you.

yet, the familiar, chilly breeze of the season transforms into whispers, and word gets around like thrown snowballs.

“is y/n really not going to school anymore?” changmin looks up from his desk to see cheng xiao standing in front of him. he tilts his head in confusion, causing her to roll her eyes. “are they not going here anymore?”

he frowns. “huh? what kind of rumor is that?”

“i don’t know. it’s what people have been saying,” she says as she crosses her arms. “i asked because i wanted to know if my competition’s gone, you know? and you’re the only one here who has an idea about their whereabouts.”

changmin laughs in disbelief. “no, i was with them last week.”

when changmin last saw you, you asked for space. with what’s been happening with your family, you needed time to process and cope with your issues, and he respected that. after all, he only knew a fraction of your relationship with your parents, and he didn’t want to intrude in anything you didn’t want him to be a part of. still, changmin reminded you that he’ll be there if you need him.

“damn, that sucks,” cheng xiao groans as her shoulders slump. “these stupid rumors.” as soon as she leaves changmin alone, he shakes his head.

the bell rings. students start rushing into classrooms and teachers scold those who aren’t on their seats. ms. jeon enters the room, walking to the desk in front and setting her things down. “cheng xiao, you’ll be in charge of attendance today.”

as changmin’s classmate gets off her seat, he can’t help but look at your desk that still remains empty.

“you have to message us when you land,” your mother says as she fixes the collar of your coat. despite your nod, she clicks her tongue. “answer me properly.”

“yes, i will.”

once your father finishes placing the last luggage in the trunk of the taxi, he stands beside your mother. “don’t forget why we’re sending you there. we expect you to do better with no distractions.”

your phone buzzes in your hand. as you look down, you see a message from changmin. as he asks about your whereabouts, the weight gets heavier—will you stand or crumble under it?

“who’s that?”

you stash your phone away as you look back at your parents. “nothing. it’s just an email from the school. they sent over the date for the orientation.” at the sight of their satisfied smile, you let out a small sigh of relief.

“well, go on.” your nod at your mother before getting in the car. with the windows still down, she adds, “don’t forget to get endorsement letters from the professors i sent over to you or else you won’t get to study abroad like we planned.” her choice of pronouns is funny; a plan that they crafted which never considered your input.

“okay.”

as your father commands the driver to go, your gaze remains on the two. it should be okay with you to leave cheongju; you’d be far away from your parents and experience an entirely different landscape to explore. it’s time you break away from the chains of this town. learn a life outside of what your parents forced you into.

yet, as the car takes its leave, the figure of your parents slowly shrinks. the distance from them should’ve given you the space to breathe, a relief you’ve longed for, but it only reminds you of your strained relationship. to them, it would be better that you’re out of their sight—and with your farewell, you never heard the three-word phrase.

the window rolls up. you try to hold back the tears, but the scenery of cheongju that you pass by births a storm within you. you didn’t want to say goodbye to home, regardless of how much you say you didn’t have a home in this town. every corner holds a piece of you in the same way you hold a piece of them.

the car approaches a safe haven you share. despite the snow that piles at the front, mr. kim’s convenience store is still open. you’ll never get to have his hotteok again or hear his favorite dramas play in the background. worst of all, you never got to say goodbye.

then, the familiar figure of your best friend exits the mart, and the storm transforms into a typhoon. the plastic bag he holds is filled with your favorite snacks, from the grape-flavored twin bar to a bottle of mr. kim’s homemade peach iced tea.

and in that moment that your car passes him, he pulls out his phone from his pocket, and you spot the familiar trap wrapped around his finger—the other end holds no one.

as quickly as you came into changmin’s life, he disappears from your view.

finger traps were fascinating. if you tug hard, the contraption won’t let your fingers go. yet, if you allow the two fingers to meet, allowing the toy to loosen, it’ll let you go with no harm.

but your finger trap with changmin was different. maybe it was already ripped to its seams.

interview

q: what made you decide on becoming an idol?

a: i’ve always loved dancing. growing up in cheongju, i always made time [for dance] whether it be [for] school competitions, talent shows, or even [choreographies] i wanted to try out. but i never considered becoming [an idol] until high school. a lot of my friends and family thought i was capable, and i’m glad they trusted me. it feels good to give back to them with every performance.

q: as the first trainee meant to debut in the boyz, you’ve spent more time training compared to your other members. what kept you going throughout your years of training?

a: my family’s support was one big thing that helped me [during my training.] every trip from my house to the company would last hours, and it drained me physically. so as the years went by, i started to question if all the time, money, [and] effort i was putting into an unpromised debut would be worth it, but my parents and sisters were always there to support and [take] care of me. but i’d also like to think my best friend was a major support in training years. i think they were the first one to [tell me that they saw me as an idol,] and at the time i brushed off the idea. but, look where i am now? so i think i owe a lot to them.

q: is there anything you’d like to say to those who’ve supported you as the boyz’s q?

a: mom and dad, thank you for believing in me. i know it wasn’t easy to wait until midnight for me to come home or take care of me whenever i got sick from training. thank you for always supporting me in every performance. to my sisters, thank you for helping mom and dad out at home. every day, i remind myself that you gave up so much just so i can pursue my dreams, and i want you know that i’m forever grateful for your sacrifices. to the rest of [the boyz], thank you for always allowing me to rely on you. i’m glad i can say i have brothers who i get to achieve my dreams with. deobi, thank you for your love and support over the years. i wouldn’t be the boyz’s q or ji changmin if it weren’t for you. and lastly, thank you to my best friend. i hope you’ll always be proud of me the same way i’ll forever be proud of you.

tag list: @deoboyznet @kflixnet @blankjournal @winterchimez @miusgirl @jenoscafe @sweet-unicorn-world @mosviqu @vernyangel @stealanity @deobi0412 @blue-rainydays @maessseongs @dearly-somber

#ji changmin x reader #the boyz fic recs #im jumping off a cliff in t-minus two hours whoever wants to join may do so #pls read if u want something so heart wrenchingly beautiful

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houserautha · 2 days ago

Text

These Destined Ends

Part Nineteen

Summary: Jessica fulfilled the wishes of the Bene Gesserits to produce a daughter. You’re now burdened with the task of not only marrying the na-Baron, but also bearing his child — the Kwisatz Haderach. Will you take your fate into your own hands? Or will it always belong to those who control you?

Pairings: Feyd-Rautha x f!Reader

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: MDNI, 18+. Fighting, Feyd eats ass and pussy, a little humiliation, violent sex, drowning(?)

A/N: I was really in the mood to write some unhinged sex, so, here we are. Surprisingly there is a lot of plot too

“For someone so…prolifically opposed to the Bene Gesserits, you aren’t working very hard to dismantle our ideas.”

Your mother’s voice slips over you, slick as oil. It takes an enormous effort not to keep walking and pretend like you didn’t hear her. She would just stop you, anyway, which is the only reason that you turn around.

“Go ahead and spit out whatever you’re trying to say. All of your riddles bore me.”

Jessica licks her tongue. “Hm, so cunning.” When you don’t say anything else, she draws up her shoulders and sighs. “You claim you don’t want to trick the Fremen and yet you are still dragging them into your fight.”

“This is their fight as much as ours,” you snap.

“It’s all apart of our plan.” Jessica spreads her hands wide. “They will follow you as the Holy Mother, and then they will follow your son as the Lisan al-Gaib. And if you’re successful in your endeavor against the Emperor…well.”

She smiles, the rest of her words going unspoken. We will rule the Known Universe.

A fist of regret forms in your stomach. “I want to liberate them. It is not my intent to keep them…under control.”

“Oh, but you’ll manipulate them to get your way first? Such a noble act. You’re just like your father.”

You tuck away this last insult to examine later, why it cuts you so deeply. Instead, you focus on how Jessica has said aloud your guilt, brought it to life in a way that you had been trying to ignore. No matter how hard you fight against the Bene Gesserits, you somehow end up still adhering to their false prophecy. An inescapable fate.

“What do you want from me?” You ask her. It’s repulsive how efficiently she can crumble your composure.

“To impart a reminder.” Jessica steps closer, sand crunching underfoot. “I did all of this for you, daughter. To protect you. And I will not tolerate your insubordination.”

“To protect me?” You echo, sneering.

Jessica’s laugh is dry and bitter. “You are not as cunning as you think. I married you to a man who would shield you with his life, fill your belly with his children — ensure you a status as a figure to be reveled. I made you a god.”

“You did nothing,” you say back, lacking any real conviction.

“You’ll understand soon. You might already, the depths that a mother’s love will go, and what we’ll do for our children.”

Jessica lifts a hand to touch your face, then thinks better of it. She must sense that this is the most devastating thing she could ever utter to you because she brushes past you without another word, leaving you open and bleeding.

You hate that she’s right.

That you’re playing into the Bene Gesserit’s design. But you see no other way to even glimpse freedom for the Fremen if not recruiting them in this self-made battle. Except it wasn’t self-made, your thoughts scream at you, it was the Baron and the Emperor.

Anger boils under your skin. You’re sick of others telling you what to do, dictating your life while you were pushed along like a leaf in a strong current.

“You need to eat,” Feyd chides you, bringing you out of your thoughts.

“Hm?”

“Eat.” He indicates your ration, which you haven’t even touched. “You need to be strong.”

You blink. You can’t even fathom eating right now, especially not with this much guilt churning in your stomach. Blurting out, you tell him, “I think I’m going to do something completely absurd.”

Feyd, who had been ravenously devouring his own ration until this point, pauses. He swallows.

“Alright.”

“Alright?” A smile tugs at your lips. “Don’t you want to know what it is?”

“I don’t care.” He leans back. “You’ve been uncharacteristically quiet. I suspected you were planning something.”

“You are either a wonderful husband or wonderfully stupid, Feyd-Rautha.”

“I’m told that I’m just all around wonderful.” Feyd’s eyes narrow. “Now eat.”

The plan unwinds from you between forced bites of food. It starts as a single thread that unravels itself until it’s all unspooled, leaving you to hold the pieces. A strange calm settles over you. You’re in control. Capable. Powerful.

Feyd gives you his support. Not that you believed he would do any different.

And when you reveal parts of your plan to Jessica, you frame it in a way to make amends with her. To be compliant. You have no way of knowing how convincing you are, but she lets you gather the Fremen to speak to them, all the while her blue-on-blue gaze watching you carefully as you ascend the slab of rock used to preside over sietch-wide meetings.

Feyd lingers a few feet behind you, Gurney not far from him, an uneasy truce between the two.

Beneath you, the Fremen gaze up with looks of awe; even Chani observes the proceedings with a look of interest.

You’ve earned their trust.

And now you’re going to take it away.

"The final days of our siege on the Emperor and his Harkonnen pets are upon us," you call out, voice booming, "I have never been so honored to walk alongside any other people, and I have the utmost faith in our victory."

You’re met with a cheer of approval.

It takes a moment for the crowd to quiet before you can continue. There's an electric current in the air, nearly infectious, the anticipatory thrill before battle. You hope that you're not making a mistake as you say, "To go into battle, you must trust your brothers and sisters, trust your leaders. I must confess that I haven't been honest with you."

Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jessica move to stop you. Feyd, with cotton in his ears and anger in his eyes, doesn't let her get far.

The crowd rumbles, wary.

"I am not the Holy Mother." Sounds of confusion arise, which forces you to raise your voice. "I am a flaw in the plan of the Bene Gesserits. I failed to learn their power, and therefore, my child cannot be the Lisan al-Gaib."

"What? Is this true?" At Stilgar's emergence, the sietch stills.

You regard them as evenly as you can, throat constricting. "Yes."

"But you knew everything. All of the signs of the prophecy —"

"It was a lie. A ruse."

Stilgar's tremulous control of the sietch snaps. The Fremen riot this information, hurling insults, pushing and shoving and jostling like one enraged creature. You stand your ground. You knew this would be devastating to deliver, not nothing could prepare you for the raw portrayal on their tanned faces.

As planned, Feyd and Gurney ward off anyone who tries to get to you — Feyd slides twin daggers from the sheaths at his waist, metal glinting dangerously. The Fremen lurk, circling, but they do not engage, not when the na-Baron has now learned their ways atop his own lethal training.

You bear the weight of their fury as best as you can. Somewhere deep inside, you know that they have to expel this from their minds and their hearts before you can say anything else, but that doesn't mean it hurts any less. You commit each expression of betrayal to your memory. If they were going to suffer, then so would you.

The sound of shifting sand is your only warning before someone hurtles past you — Chani, somehow slipping past your defenses, only barely misses you as you step aside at the last possible moment. There's not enough time for you to recover from the surprise before her next attack, sweeping your legs out from under you. You fall, hard, on your ass but have enough forethought to scramble backwards.

"Chani, listen to me —"

"I knew we should've killed you when we found you in the desert," she hisses.

She advances on you and each step she takes you shuttle back, pain ringing out in your spine. Your son is safe, you can sense it, but you don't know how long that will last with Chani gaining on you.

"Chani —"

"We trusted you," she wails, "we trusted you!"

You manage to your feet, one hand going to your stomach. A fierce wave of protection washes over you, and you insist, "You still can."

Chani springs for you.

You gasp with shock as she seizes you, eyes wide with anger. "When will you stop fucking lying?"

"I'm not lying," you breathe out. "I am not the Holy Mother. I am Lisan al-Gaib."

Whatever she expects you to say, it's not that. She pauses, and you take the chance to slam your elbow into her throat. A choked sound escapes from her, but she releases you, and you stagger past her to reclaim your spot at the top of the rock. You don't have much time. If you don't say what you need to, then you'll lose them forever.

"Brothers and sisters!" Gripped with desperation, you shout, "I tell you this because I am not the Holy Mother. I am the Kwisatz Haderach. I am Lisan al-Gain. And I will lead you to freedom."

"She's lying!" Chani roars.

"The prophecy states that the Lisan al-Gaib's mother will be a Bene Gesserit, that the Messiah will take the name Muad'dib, take you into battle for your freedom and for a new Arrakis. Have I not fulfilled that? Have I not promised you those very things?"

The protests subside slightly. It might be to decide how best to kill you, but you seize the opportunity. "I should not have lied. I was afraid. I thought if I told you the truth, you would be mistrustful because I was with child, that I was wed to your enemy. I know my mistake, and I know that I can't retract it, but I beg for you to forgive me."

"How do we know if we can trust you now?" Stilgar asks, expression hardened.

"You don't, and I can't fault you for it. But if you let me, I will prove my sincerity in the following days, by defeating the Emperor and securing our rightful place in the Known Universe."

"Never," Chani snaps from behind you.

You let some of your emotions leak into your voice, "Then what will you do? If you dispose of me, there will be no Atreides bombs. You will have no weapon against the Emperor and the Sardaukar, the Baron and his own army. Do not be so blinded by your anger that you make a mortal error. Only together can we be triumphant."

While Gurney and Feyd work together to fend off the crowd of protesters, Jessica finds you, nearly toppling you from the rock and wrenching your arm from your shoulder. "What are you doing?"

You wrest your arm from her grip. Quickly, you flick your gaze over the revolting Fremen, over all of those you had grown close to, then return your gaze to her. "Making myself a god."

The water lays impossibly still. You stand at its edge, taking in the enormity of the subterranean pool. All of the lives of the deceased Fremen reside within, a watery tomb, untouched. How deep did it go? You imagine your life's water funneled into it, how small and insignificant it would be, barely a ripple on the surface.

Tomorrow, you would fight.

The Fremen returned their water to the sietch to be used one day in their new world, an endless cycle of resourcefulness and unity. How many lives would end here? How many lives to reach the new world that Kynes described?

You sigh, and the sound echoes throughout the cavernous space. There's a strange, tranquil calm here, silent and still when everything else has been a mess of noise. Even now, focused on the depth of the sacred pool, your mind races with worry and indecision. You just want it to stop.

Perhaps tomorrow would offer you peace.

The peace of the battlefield, your body acting on instinct and years of practice. You could handle that — bloodshed, death, being a weapon. You could not handle this new position of power you put yourself in, though. An act against the Bene Gesserits, but at what cost? You alone were to blame now for the inevitable jihad. But you protected your son from this fate, you put a cease to the lying and the deceiving, and now you could wrest the control that you always wanted.

The sound of heavy bootsteps rings out in the death chamber, scattering the handful of Fremen who had been working. You hadn't missed their pointed stares or the wide berth they gave you, but you were grateful nonetheless for their departure, especially since it was prompted by your husband. His presence, even at your back, anchors you instantly.

"You've been here awhile."

"Have you been watching me?" You ask, turning to place him in your peripheral, a sketch of black and white.

There's no mistaking the twitch of amusement on his features. "You're a fool if you think I ever stop."

Since the day that you proclaimed yourself as Lisan al-Gaib, Feyd had taken it upon himself to be your security detail. It's not unlike before, but now with more menacing stares. A second shadow, one that you love more dearly than your own. You smile. "Should I be flattered?"

"If you'd like." The metallic sound of his blades sliding into their sheaths precedes him, then his hand gently sweeping the hair off your neck. Feyd's mouth is warm at the top of your spine, the tiny amount of skin showing.

Your eyes flutter shut. "I can't believe it's finally here."

"Finally being the operative word," Feyd rasps, "I've waited a lifetime for it."

You turn to face him, heart panging. He's so beautiful like this, in this dark light, the blade before its whet on stone. You know from experience that this could change frighteningly quick, but you still appreciate these fleeting moments with him, that they're yours alone.

"Only one more day," you tell him.

His gaze searches you. "We have better ways to spend it than staring into this pool and analyzing our decisions."

Your cheeks burn. Of course he knew what you were doing. Your attention drifts from him to the sacred pool again, the expanse of water beneath the teeth of the stalagmites. "It's difficult when our decisions impact so many."

"I know, jewel."

It's this level of understanding that compels you to him, how he knows better than anyone else the dilemma you have. And he doesn't offer empty words or sympathy. Just...himself. His strength and his solidarity. And you want him, all of him.

Unable to go another second without touching him, you pull him into you and tilt your head, his mouth claiming yours without hesitation. One hand slides behind your head, cradling you, and he deepens the kiss. There's nothing soft about Feyd, nothing done without fervor, and you moan as he bites down on your lip. Taking your open mouth as invitation, he slips his tongue inside, brushing it over your own.

Molten heat erupts in your core. You wend your arms around his neck, matching his intensity and scraping your nails over the back of his head. He shudders, the familiar nudge of his cock stirring against you in response. Wanton, you grind your hips into him, eliciting a growl from deep within his chest. Feyd guides your hand to palm his hardened length. "Let me distract you."

"This isn't an effort to fuck me one last time before we die, is it? Because you only had to ask."

You squeeze his head through his pants.

Feyd inhales sharply, but the intensity on his face never wavers. "You won't die unless it's by my hand. And I'm feeling charitable."

"Is that because I have your cock in my hand?"

"It certainly helps."

You smirk. Although you're both aiming to keep the tone light, his message is clear — he won't let you die tomorrow. It's a promise he's made before, and one that comforts you in your lowest moments. There's other ways to declare your love, but this one was uniquely Feyd's.

You never would've thought that the promise of your death could sound so sweet.

In vain, you make an effort to free him from his stillsuit, but they're infuriating efficient at keeping everything out. You can't help it, you whine. With a chuckle that brushes over your spine, Feyd steps back to relieve you of your frustration, working the mechanisms of his suit.

The first hint of his bare shoulders has you clenching your thighs together like a virgin, wet already. You should've been ashamed at the immediate reaction, but you really don't care. Feyd slowly rolls the stillsuit down his chest. Your stomach swoops. He's corded with muscle, powerful arms flexing as he moves the stillsuit low on his hips. Cunt clenching and pulsing with anticipation, you watch him remove it, noting every inch of your husband's divine physique.

"Have I told you that you're beautiful?" You ask him. There's an array of thin, delicate scars across his skin that you trace with the tips of your fingers — older ones, ones that you've put there, the still-pink wound from the thopter crash.

Feyd's lips hitch. "You've called me many things, but that's never been one of them."

"Well you are," you tell him, "you're beautiful."

"Quit saying things as if you'll never have the chance to again." His tone is brusque. The expression on his face can only be described as tormented, anguished, undoubtedly confronted by the same reality of tomorrow.

It's not your intention to provoke him, but it spills out of you. "We don't know what's going to happen to tomorrow. Anything —"

"I'll tell you what's going to happen." Feyd grabs a handful of hair at the back of your head, pain lancing through your scalp. "We're going to slaughter those that wronged us, and I'm going to fuck you amongst their still warm bodies. But tonight, I'm going to remind you that no harm will come to you unless I inflict it."

Something breaks open in you at this. Feyd yanks your head back and the momentum sends you staggering, falling to your knees. He advances toward you and you eye his cock, curved and throbbing, veins black with his blood.

Feyd fists his shaft, giving it a lazy stroke as he watches you. "You get on your knees and instantly think you get this cock?"

"I —" your face burns. Isn't that what he wanted?

"Filthy slut," he murmurs, still stroking himself.

Heavy lidded, dark eyes swimming with glee, he orders you to turn around. You obey, and the air is snatched from your lungs when he pushes you forward onto your hands and knees, sand biting into your palms.

The water of the sacred pool trembles.

You're utterly vulnerable as Feyd starts to work the clasps of your stillsuit, fingers grazing over your skin in the most delicious way. The suit falls from your shoulders and you lift up each arm as he tugs it off, mouth following its path with open mouth kisses. He snakes around you to cup your breast, flicking one stiff nipple with his thumb.

The action sends a bolt of pleasure straight to your core. You bow into him, and Feyd massages you, alternating between flicking your nipple and rolling it between his fingers.

It's truly torturous when he revokes his hand to continue pulling your stillsuit off, and you whimper at the cool air in his absence. Soon he's tugging it around your knees and finally discarding it, leaving you vulnerable to his gaze. Quivering, whether with cold or anticipation, you bite out a yelp as he traces the seam of your ass, then the tight ring of muscles.

Feyd palms your ass, kneading it, forcing you to spread your legs further. He blows a stream of breath over your sensitive center.

"Shit, Feyd," you mutter, teeth gritting. You hate when he teases you, offering you only a taste of what he plans to do.

In reply, he circles the ring of muscles, then dips his other hand to greet your clit.

"You are the most beautiful," he rasps to you, ministrations making you squirm. "Especially like this, so desperate."

The warmth of his mouth ghosts down your spine, the cleft of your ass, before settling there. He kisses your entrance while applying pressure to your clit, one, then two fingers slipping inside your slicked folds. If you could howl without somehow disturbing the dead, you would, but the sanctity of this place keeps your mouth shut.

A laugh rumbles from him because he knows, he knows that you'll let him fuck you here but you'll still uphold your respect in this way. All of the worry and concern for tomorrow is chased away by the punishing effort of his mouth and fingers, replacing it with a lightheadedness, the predecessor to your orgasm.

He curls his fingers, twisting and turning them with practiced precision. Meanwhile he slurps from behind you, vigorous, eager, his spit combining with your arousal wetting you from front to back. Feyd continues to finger you while he flattens his tongue and licks up, circling the ring of muscles before flickering over it. You can feel yourself spinning closer and closer to your climax, stomach tightening and cunt throbbing.

"Do you want to come, jewel?" He asks, biting at your ass.

You cry out in surprise and then, panting, answer, "Y-Yes."

Feyd withdraws from you. He sucks his fingers clean, the sound driving another bolt of pleasure through you, before shoving your face into the sand and tilting more of you to him, hips shifting. This time he brings his attention to your cunt, implementing the same ferocity, lapping and feasting with dizzying effect.

He seals his mouth around your folds and sucks.

It doesn't take long for you to completely come undone, whimpering, shuddering with each wave of your orgasm. Feyd focuses on you until you're thoroughly spent, then releases you with a satisfying squelch. Gasping for breath, you would've collapsed if he hadn't been holding you upright. There's no time to recover, though, as he slips his hand back into your hair and inches you to the edge of the sacred pool.

Stars are still bursting behind your eyes. You stammer, "Feyd, what —"

"I hurt you because I love you," he rasps into your skin, pressing a kiss between the blades of your shoulders.

And then he forces your head underwater.

The pool is shockingly warm. But it's not enough to ward the chill of shock that washes over you: first, that Feyd would desecrate such a sacred site, then the twist of horror when he doesn't immediately release you. Bubbles escape from your mouth. Your eyes are open, you think, but you can't tell, it's pitch black beneath the surface.

As you expend the last of your air in a silent scream, your lungs pinch with panic — he's going to kill you now, he's going to drown you.

He yanks you back up right when you think that you might never take in another gulp of air. You sputter and gasp, wet hair clinging to you, using whatever measures necessary to keep yourself above the water. But Feyd overpowers you, and he ducks your head under.

This time you have some notion of preservation and keep your eyes and your mouth shut, even when your lungs scream in protest. It's all for nothing, though, when you feel him notch his cock at your entrance.

Feyd wrenches you up again. Through your gasping he growls out, "You are mine. In life and in death, jewel."

He slams into you up to the hilt. You have just enough time to cry out before he's dunking you back under, withdrawing and then slamming into you once more. The pain and pleasure entangle themselves within you, make it difficult to decipher one from the other, entirely infused.

Your survival instinct is yelling at you to fight and you thrash, desperate to rake air back into your lungs. But there's no mistaking the utter thrill of him pounding into your cunt over and over again, quite literally holding your life in his hand while he does it. Only Feyd could straddle this delicate line of control — only Feyd would you let hold such power, one infinitesimal decision away from ending your life for good.

And so it goes, Feyd rutting into you while intermittently releasing you from the pool's watery embrace. Sometimes he keeps you above the water for longer periods of time. At least, it feels that way, there's really no way to tell. Tears leak from your eyes and you cry and beg. No matter how much it makes your cunt clench, you can't turn off the part of you pleading for reprieve. And sometimes he keeps you under the water for eons, the edges of your vision darkening, but he always pulls you back up.

You're suspended in this constant ebb and flow. You have no sense of being, of time, no sense of whether you're coming or not even though there's waves of pleasure beneath the panic.

Feyd's cock swells inside you. You're sore already from his fervent thrusts, thighs quaking, but you know he's close to chasing his own release.

You flop down onto the wet sand as he finishes. Chest heaving, you squeeze your walls around him as he spills his cum in you. He lingers until he's done, then crawls by your side by the edge of the pool, where you're still trying to catch your breath and find some inkling of clarity. Feyd curls up beside you, pulling you into his arms and whispering praises in your ear.

Shivering, you allow him to envelope you, warmed by his rasping voice and the gentle touch of his hands over your bare skin. He brushes a thumb over the slight swell of your belly. You don't know how long you stay intertwined like that, both of you coming down from the high of your passion as the pool returns to its former stillness.

Frankly, you didn't want to know the repercussions you would face for treating the sacred place so vile. No one would know but the two of you, of course, and the countless people who had returned their water there. You say a quick prayer of forgiveness to whoever is listening as Feyd kisses you. At least you would both go to whatever Fremen hell together, which was the least you could ask. Just like he said.

In life and in death.

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