#but i guess there always has to be a first
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archangeldyke-all · 3 days ago
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Oh man I have ideas..
Sevika has a home back in Zaun but she has to have an apartment in Piltover because of councilor duties until she fully adjusts to topside and accepts the insistent offers of a manor. Imagine being her wife and just helping her relax after her first day, cuddling and all that whilst adjusting to the fancy apartment bigger than your old house.
Or..
Sevika taking her wife out for a walk in Piltover, admiring more of the garden as the plants grow upon new soil. A talk about the future whilst holding hands.
Or..
Them renewing their vows, having that damn fancy wedding of the dreams.
Toodles!!!
EEEEEEEEK okay lets do some councilor sevika (also isha and jinx are still alive in this story because i said so. she doesn't need to suffer so much to still be an incredible leader. give her her girls!!!)
men and minors dni
you were the first person approached about sevika representing zaun in piltover's new council post-war.
you were a little concerned to find councilwoman shoola and three members of her personal guard on your front stoop-- and for just a moment you had a flash of anxiety that she was here looking for jinx or isha.
"councilwoman. hello." you say, still surprised. you've met the woman a few times before, both of you attending various re-building efforts around the undercity. she holds up a hand.
"please, dear, we've built a bookshelf together, you've seen me at my lowest. you can call me shoola."
"h-how can i help you counc-- shoola?" you ask. she smiles.
"i'm here regarding your wife."
you frown. "...is she in some kind of trouble?" you ask, already mentally planning how to worm sevika out of her trouble. the councilwoman chuckles.
"quite the opposite, actually. i'd like her to join the council... as an ambassador to the free nation of zaun." she says.
you nearly shit yourself at her words-- sevika's life work casually mentioned like it's just a sidenote. "the-- free?" you ask.
she smiles. "while the deaths of the other councilmembers in the war was a horrible loss, there are some issues i could never get my late colleagues to agree on. now, though... i've been given full authority to reorient the power structure of the council to avoid anymore kirraman's taking over-- and i've always been of the belief that zaun should be free."
"and w-what... you want to arrest jinx in exchange for it?" you ask.
shoola chuckles. "no."
"y-you want isha?" you ask. shoola laughs again.
"what could i want with a child? no!"
"so... what do you want?" you ask, your voice shaking as the reality of the situation sinks in.
"i just want your help talking sevika into the job. i know she can be... stubbo--?"
"bullheaded?" you guess as shoola searches for a kind word to describe sevika's stubbornness. she chuckles at your description of your wife and nods.
"here." she hands you a stack of papers. "i've outlined the full responsibilities of the job. as well as the benefits she will receive for serving. please. look it over and talk to her, would you?"
you do.
it's an excellent proposal.
as the undercity figures out how it wants to self govern, piltover will fund zaun's public infrastructure as if it's their own-- meaning that the undercity will, practically overnight, have access to things like clean water. and schools. and welfare. they will provide these services for up to fifteen years as zaun finds it's footing.
the position outlined for sevika in piltover's council is a way to assure piltover doesn't back out of their promises-- that somebody is there to call them out when they try to cut corners in helping the young nation of zaun find it's footing.
and, while your wife might miss the more physical aspects of her old work, you can see her chewing out some stingy old councilors for their greed in your minds eye, and you can't help but smile.
"what're you smilin' about?" sevika asks.
you jump and slam the folder in front of you closed, blinking up at your wife.
she's back from her meeting with ran, scar and jericho. the four of them have grown close in these past few months as they coordinate rebuilding efforts for various neighborhoods across zaun. you have to gulp, trying not to get dizzy with the possibilities of what sevika's job offer means for them as a team. as team zaun.
"h-how was your meeting?" you ask. sevika raises an unimpressed eyebrow at you and you huff. she sinks across the table from you, easily pulling the folder out of your grasp.
"meeting was fine. the elementary school bein' built in firelight's territory is almost ready to open. first school in zaun." she says with a smile. "now, what were you smiling at?"
"i was approached by councilwoman shoola this afternoon."
sevika raises an eyebrow at you. "did you two try to build a chair this time?" she teases. you groan and kick her shin, before tapping the folder in her hands.
"no. i was asked to convince my stubborn-ass, incredibly loyal, strong, beautiful, hard-fucking-headed wife to join the fucking council."
sevika blinks. "what?"
"they want you in the new council. serving as an ambassador. to the free nation of zaun, sevika."
sevika blinks again, and then she rips the file open, her silver eyes flying across the confidential text. "the fr-- the free nation of zaun?" she asks, her eyes flying up to yours to confirm. you grin and nod.
sevika flies out of her seat and crawls across the dining room table to reach you, tears flowing down her cheeks as she kisses you like her life depends on it.
you're there when shoola and sevika finally sit down to discuss the opportunity. shoola's the first piltoverian to not turn her nose up at the messy state of your small home-- she even grins at the sound of jinx and isha bickering from their bedroom. "you two have made a lovely home for yourselves, here." she says, sitting down at the table and jumping a bit when a toy squeaks under her bum. "i can almost see the love leaking out of the wallpaper."
"could be black mold." you whisper. sevika and shoola both sputter surprised laughs.
"sevika. have you considered my proposal?" shoola asks.
sevika sighs and nods. "i have a few conditions before i agree." she says.
this surprises you. as if the prospect of representing a free zaun isn't tempting enough, you saw the salary sevika's being offered. it's the kind of money that could buy you a house big enough that all four of you could have your own bathrooms.
(secretly, though, you hope you live in a tiny house forever. you like tripping over your family-- being within reaching distance at all times.)
"first. i'd like you to assign me the budget to employ three of my trusted confidants as advisors. i can give you their identities if you'd like, but i give you my word that they're good peo--"
"done." shoola cuts sevika off, scribbling a quick note in her journal before looking back up at the pair of you with a smile. "what else?" she asks.
you smile a bit. sevika blinks, then gulps. "jinx and her little friend ekko get a full ride to the university up top. they're incredibly gifted, and with a little proper education they could advance zaun--"
"you don't have to convince me, i remember how the war went. without them, we'd all be dead. i can arrange that."
"i don't want to leave zaun. i can't represent these people if i'm not living here. i'll need a car to get--"
"would you like a personal vehicle or a driver each morning and evening?" shoola asks.
sevika blinks. "a-a driver." she says, a little shocked.
"anything else?" shoola asks.
sevika nods. "o-one last thing." she reaches over to grab your hand. you have no idea what she could possibly want beyond what she's asked for-- she's taken care of her friends, her family, and her transport.
"anything." shoola says. you think the woman might mean it.
sevika looks down at her lap and sighs. "we... we never really got married." she says. you blink, not at all understanding why she's telling the councilwoman this. "i mean... we had a party and we exchanged vows," she says, a smile tugging at her lips. you squeeze her hand and her eyes flick up to yours, before shyly darting away like you guys haven't been married for a decade now. like you guys don't have two kids together. "but we never... nobody gets married in zaun. 's expensive. the trip up to the justice is too far. and..." sevika gulps, her voice getting shaky as she looks back up at you. "and you're the reason i've fought so hard for our home in the first place." she whispers.
tears start to well up in your eyes and you let out a shaky laugh. "what, 're you proposing to me again?" you ask. sevika snorts and shakes her head before turning to shoola. the woman's drying her own tears.
"will you arrange to have us married? officially?"
"i'd be honored." shoola agrees.
the wedding is small and intimate, you and sevika, jinx and isha, vi, ran, scar, jericho, and shoola.
the councilwoman took you to a beautiful little garden a few blocks away from the council, and she married you, officially, as the sun set and your girls threw handfuls of confetti into the sky.
your whole party marches through the streets of piltover and back to zaun for the afterparty, councilwoman shoola laughing happily as you introduce her to the zaunite tradition of barcrawling.
each bar you enter, jericho happily announces that you and sevika have been freshly married. sevika, being the new spokeswoman of zaun, is quite the celebrity now. all of this is to say, you spend the night drinking many free drinks, hugging many drunk strangers, and kissing your wife on request about a thousand times.
it's the best night of your life.
taglist!
@fyeahnix @lavendersgirl @half-of-a-gay @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner
@kissyslut @chuucanchuucan @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther
@sevikaspillowprincess @emiliabby @sevikasbeloved @hellorai @my-taintedheart
@glass-apothecary @macaroni676 @artinvain @k3n-dyll @sevsdollette
@ellieslob @xayn-xd @keikuahh @maneskinwh0re @raphaellearp
@iamastar @sevikitty @mascdom @nhaaauyen @annesunshiner
@mirconreadzztuff22 @veoomvroom @lushh-s3vik4s @katyawooga @lesbodietcoke
@lavandasz @strawberrykidneystone @sevikasfan @fict1onallyobsessed
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felassan · 2 days ago
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David Gaider on Fenris, under a cut for length:
"Fenris. Now, DA2 is a story all on its own but I'm not going to go there other than to sum it up as "we had just over a year and a half to make this". It's why I only wrote one follower, Fenris, and although it'll make his fans mad: I probably shouldn't have. Let me explain. The way we'd approach making the followers is brainstorming a list of concepts covering first the array of gameplay classes (and sub-classes) and then making sure they each have some skin in the game when it came to the story's conflicts - ideally having characters on both sides of the major ones. Why? You can't make a player care about the world, but you can make them care about characters who care about the world. It's the easiest way to provide hooks into a conflict, outside of it knocking on the player's door. Heck, it's probably better than that. Players will burn the world for approval. After that, we'd decide things like romances/sexuality. Then the writers would pick who they'd write. I always let my writers pick first. I figured they do their best work when it's something they're inspired to write... and they got so few chances at ownership, I wanted to give it whenever I could It's why I (reluctantly) let Patrick wrest Cole from my grasp in DAI, a character I'd created in Asunder. It's also why I let Jennifer take Anders in DA2, who I'd started in Awakening. In this instance, it meant I was left with the angry elven warrior character who nobody else appeared to want."
"It should have been my first clue that something was up. The second was how the artists had zero clue what to do with him. The art concepts were all over the place - from mages to crows to... well, even weirder. No matter how hard I tried to explain the idea, the artists simply didn't seem to get it Does this mean he was a bad character? Not exactly. Just an idea that probably deserved some re-examining. You can tell when an idea has a certain spark, and part of that is being easy to communicate. Sadly, there wasn't time for any re-examining even if it'd occurred to me. And it didn't, not yet. If it had, if I had time, maybe I'd have re-booted him as a templar. Someone pro-templar rather than anti-mage, who could give a personal hook into Meredith and give the templars some badly-needed humanity. But this falls into the shoulda-woulda-coulda category. I had a follower to write. Quickly. I struggled, at first. It was hard to get away from "Fenris hates everything, all the time". It felt very one-note, and I didn't know where to take him. My third clue, I guess. I also wasn't sure if I was the right person to write a former slave. I did know that couldn't be the center of his story. I did know trauma, however. How it can eat you up. How the hate and resentment is like drinking poison and hoping the other person dies. How it can infect your relationships. Fenris's trauma isn't my trauma, obviously, but here I dipped into a more personal part of myself than I'd ever done before."
"It gave me the center of his story I was missing, but wow was it uncomfortable. In a good way, maybe. I likely wouldn't have, if I hadn't been so desperate. In a way, I think DA2 had some of our best writing *because* of the timeline. It was raw, with little time to sand down the interesting parts. I wouldn't have done the "Fenris doesn't talk to you for three years" thing if I'd known we were going to cut all the reactivity initially planned for the time jumps. When that call was made, I campaigned to cut the jumps to a year, but there was no time for the revisions it'd need. So, um. Awkward. I used to get asked where the name came from, and I... don't remember? Obviously it's derived from Fenrir, but I don't recall why we picked that. Someone pointed at Fenris the Feared from Joe Abercrombie's books... and I did read them, so maybe the name lodged in my head? Wouldn't be the first time. Casting Fenris turned out to be easy. He was the first time I requested a specific VA and got him. (The other times were Merrill and then Solas, my two "I want these specific Welsh actors, please".) Why? OK, if you must know, I'd played a bit of Final Fantasy XII. I heard Balthier. "Yes, that." 😅 And Gideon Emery was a delight, as it turned out. Consummate professional, and that lovely gravel in his voice... good god. Bite the knuckles. There was a struggle to find the voice at the outset where I did my best not to say "just pls do Balthier" but he found Fenris on his own and it was amazing. Overall, Fenris turned out better than he had any right to, considering the rocky start. He had a lot of soul, a vulnerability forged by pain that struck a chord with a lot of players, and I'm glad. Do I regret anything? Probably having him live in a corpse-filled mansion that would never update. That's a hindsight thing, though, as again the cut to reactivity over the time jumps came late. Outside of that, maybe letting the player give him back to Danarius? Poor shock value and a waste of resources because almost nobody took the option. Good evil options are ones that are tempting to take. And the lyrium tattoos. Interesting concept, but they're probably why you'll never see Fenris in a future DA. He requires a custom body, and the tattoos make that expensive. It's why I put Fenris in my 4th DA novel - the cancelled one. Don't fret, though. He died in it, so this way he lives on. 😉"
[source thread]
User: "Wait wait how does he die in [the cancelled novel]??" David Gaider: "Gloriously, after taking up a cause he didn't believe in at first but then made his own, one that allowed him to rediscover what it meant to be elven." [source] David Gaider: "I’m not sorry about the novel cancellation. I’m the one who cancelled it. I am kinda sad we couldn’t make it work, though. Considering it was after I left the DA team, it would have been my final DA hurrah." [source] David Gaider: "From my perspective, it was kind of "well if you're never going to use him again, let me at least give him a proper send off" and the story required a glorious death... but I get that's not the story his biggest fans would want (which is Hawke + Fenris 4ever), so it's just as well." [source]
User: "You all did some incredible work with such a tight deadline" David Gaider: "I'm of the opinion that even if we'd had only another six months to bake, DA2 would be remembered as a classic and not either a flawed gem or underbaked sequel, depending on who you ask." [source]
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bluespider008 · 2 days ago
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Oc: Mayhem (transformers)
1. [are they associated with a certain color? what color do they wear the most?]
Like many other Decepticons she had a mainly purple color palette, though after leaving the 'con army she began to veer into more greys, various purples, 'n some yellow as well in her paint jobs (kinda like a Megatronus color palette)
2. [what sort of music would they like? have you thought about what genres or bands do they lean towards? do they have a favorite song?]
Absolutely LOVES rock 'n rap! 'Keep their heads ringin', 'Rollin', 'X gon give it to ya', 'The choice is yours', 'Till I collapse', 'No sleep till Brooklyn'
3. [weapon of choice? any particular reason they chose their weapon?]
Prefers blasters that she herself makes (being a weapons specialist/engineer) even if they don't always work the best. She's currently workin' on makin' a blaster that can also change into a sword (likely will never work)
4. [how crafty/resourceful are they?]
She is incredibly crafty 'n can make a weapon out of just about anythin', she specifically loves building weapons or items to make missions more fun for her chaotic self.
5. [how do they typically dress? does their wardrobe lean more towards practicality or aesthetics?]
She has spikes naturally formed on her helm but she added ones to her shoulders. She also likes comic stickers, 'n caution tape, as she heard they looked cool in human culture.
6. [how do they wear their hair? do they care a lot how their hair looks?]
No hair, just helm lol
7. [favorite animal? why?]
She likes platypuses.. cause, like- they are mammals but lay eggs? How? HOW???
8. [do they have a nickname? who gave it to them? if it's not derived from their real name, what's the story behind it?]
Bullet (from her brother. Y'can probably guess why she's called Bullet)
9. [favorite food? least favorite? are they a picky eater? do they have any dietary restrictions?]
She'll literally eat anythin'- even if she ain't supposed to 💀
10. [if they wear jewelry, what kind? do they prefer silver or gold? do they have a favorite gem?]
She likes any yellow stones/crystals as they remind her of her brother's optics
11. [what do they have in common with you?]
Fear of attachment/abandonment as well as love for buildin' things (same fam, same..)
12. [how long have they been around? do you know their birthday? is their birthday the day you made them or another day? what do they think of celebrating birthdays?]
Birthdays aren't really somthin' she's accustomed to celebratin'.. (also, cybertronian age is pretty confusin' so just think of her as a 17 year old in human standards)
13. [what languages do they speak? how fluently?]
Cybertronian, basic alien dialect, can learn any language by goin' through databases as well as mimickin' accents.
14. [are they any good with numbers?]
Ehh.. so/so
15. [how big or small is their family? who did they live with growing up? do they live with anyone now?]
The actual size of her family is yet to be known as she was raised by her brother. Neither of them truly never knew their sire or carrier 'n had been on the move constantly throughout their childhood.
16. [do they have any pets? what do they call their pets?]
She isn't allowed to have pets yet until she learns to be more careful with her large frame 💀 (she's already accidentally crushed multiple things)
17. [how did they spend their summers/free time as a child?]
As a sparklin' / young teen she spent most of her time on buildin' random projects, her first successful build bein' a hoverboard like invention (before she learned how to transform properly)
18. [their opinion on lying, stealing, and killing?]
All can be reasonable dependin' on the situation you're in.
19. [are they quick to anger? what sets them off?]
She's a bit of a hothead 'n can easily be set off when someone mocks her or her inventions.
20. [if applicable, can they drive? if they have their own, what color is their vehicle? is the inside neat and tidy, or a mess?]
She definitely drives like a drag racer 'n not so surprisingly becomes very competitive if she's actually challenged to a race. (Her alt mode is a deep purple custom '69 Ford Mustang Mach 1)
21. [their favorite place to be?]
She likes the mountains, finds the snow to be beautiful 'n peaceful durin' winter.
22. [do they sleep well at night?]
Depends on the night/ how hard she'd worked prior. Sometimes she'll fall into recharge rather quickly, other times she won't or she'll be jolted awake from dreams.
23. [how would you describe their voice? can they sing?]
She loves to project the voice of the singer she's listenin' to through her own vocalizer, pretendin' that she's the one actually singin'. She often switches through accents 'n speaks pretty fast, so it can be a bit hard to understand at times.
24. [do they have any creative hobbies? art, writing, music, etc]
Loves art, engineerin', 'n music.
25. [how good/bad is their hearing? what about their eyesight?]
She has very sharp hearin' 'n pretty good sight, though one time she'd almost lost her optics in a fight.
26. [how do they move? are they clumsy? light on their feet? do they use mobility aids?]
She's far too strong 'n flexible for her own good which only boosts her already huge ego, often gettin' to her head 'n causin' her to do very reckless things durin' battle, sometimes old Decepticon habits come into play 'n she goes overboard.
27. [if applicable, do they have a favorite sport they play any sports or prefer to watch?]
Boxin' 'n racin'. Gets WAY too competitive.
(Might do the last few questions some other time..)
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i wanted to make an oc ask game 😋 things i like to ask people abt their characters:
are they associated with a certain color? what color do they wear the most?
what sort of music would they like? have you thought about what genres or bands do they lean towards? do they have a favorite song?
weapon of choice? any particular reason they chose their weapon?
how crafty/resourceful are they?
how do they typically dress? does their wardrobe lean more towards practicality or aesthetics?
how do they wear their hair? do they care a lot how their hair looks?
favorite animal? why?
do they have a nickname? who gave it to them? if it's not derived from their real name, what's the story behind it?
favorite food? least favorite? are they a picky eater? do they have any dietary restrictions?
if they wear jewelry, what kind? do they prefer silver or gold? do they have a favorite gem?
what do they have in common with you? how are they different? would you get along with them?
how long have they been around? do you know their birthday? is their birthday the day you made them or another day? what do they think of celebrating birthdays?
what languages do they speak? how fluently?
are they any good with numbers?
how big or small is their family? who did they live with growing up? do they live with anyone now?
do they have any pets? what do they call their pets?
how did they spend their summers/free time as a child?
their opinion on lying, stealing, and killing?
are they quick to anger? what sets them off?
if applicable, can they drive? if they have their own, what color is their vehicle? is the inside neat and tidy, or a mess?
their favorite place to be?
do they sleep well at night?
how would you describe their voice? can they sing?
do they have any creative hobbies? (art, writing, music, etc)
how good/bad is their hearing? what about their eyesight?
how do they move? are they clumsy? light on their feet? do they use mobility aids?
if applicable, do they have a favorite sport? do they play any sports or prefer to watch?
how do they show that they care about someone? how do they express that they don't like someone?
are they associated with any particular element (air, earth, fire, water)?
do they smell like anything notable?
do they like receiving gifts? giving gifts? what is their ideal gift?
do they have any habits that aren't particularly self-destructive, just maybe odd?
if applicable, how would your other characters describe them? i mean specifically the people around them.
how would your character describe themselves? it doesn't have to line up with how they really are.
do they ever return home?
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yan-randomfandom · 3 days ago
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Jinx x GN!Thief!Reader
getting chased by your victims—the people you stole from—you stumble into one of the most iconic figure in Zaun. wait, what the fuck—is that Jinx??
→ one shot, first meeting, violence, flirtatious MC 😭
🔵 ; act 3 js stabbed me btw
"Holy shit!! Move away! Move away, move away!!"
Before Jinx can even blink, she's slammed to the ground with tangling limbs. A choked groan escapes her lips as she quickly looks up to see you. Intense blue eyes deliriously captures all of your attention.
You stare back at her, eyes widening.
"...You're gorgeous," you blurt.
Her eyes narrow in a split second. Without warning, you swiftly rise to your feet and start running away. A few more thumping sounds follow, but Jinx is too fixated to watch your retreating figure.
"And I'm sooorrrrryyyyyyyy—!!" you yell, your voice growing fainter and fainter.
Jinx stands up.
A clicking sound stops her from moving. Something is pressed against her back.
"You an apprentice?" a gruff voice asks. The object—she guesses it's a gun—digs further into her top.
She sighs.
Turns around so fast they couldn't even react.
Her hand is raised. Fingers readily posed for a trigger.
...
Wait.
Where in the absolute fuck is her gun?
She drops her empty hand and taps on her pockets, feeling within. Empty. Empty. Empty.
Oh, shit. You didn't apologize for falling onto her.
The three massive men exchange confused looks. One shrugs and nudges the other. About to do a move, a long groan suddenly rings out.
Jinx pulls under her eyes in frustration. "God. You people are amateurs!"
She's already out of there. Her feet are running through the ground. Light, swift, and desperate. Inhumanly fast. The polluted breeze hits her face. How the hell did you do that? Right under her fucking nose.
Granted, she can always make another handgun and earn more money—but you had the blue crystals.
It's not like she'll have a hard time finding you, anyway.
You left trails of your muddy steps.
"There she is!"
A sharp exhale.
In one lucky move, Jinx manages to knock out all of the offenders. They all come crashing down on top of each other. Thank God for that loose pole.
There. She got rid of the nuisances. Turning, she prepares her heel—
"Woah."
You whistle loudly. Jinx snaps her head toward your direction. Just sitting above the rooftop apartments. "Gotta say, you're amazin', lady."
With a tilt of her head, she stares immensely at the weapon in your grasp. You handle it poorly by holding the tip with two fingers. Almost like it's worthless junk.
" ... That's mine," says Jinx.
"Yours?" you imitate her action, cocking your head to the side. Your lips pull a teasing smile. "Lowkey sounds hot. Can I be yours, too?"
She studies your face for a moment before a smirk of her own shows up. "Sure can. But my attractiveness kills people. Just gimme back my stuff, will ya?"
You laugh, humming, taking your sweet time to study her weapons. The blue glow in particular has your half-hearted attention. "Y'know, I've never seen anythin' like this before."
"Hah," Jinx crosses her arms, her grin widening. "Course ya didn't. I made it. Consider it an honor you even got to touch it, let alone look at it."
You pause at her words. Then take another look at the gun.
"You made this?" you say incredulously, an eyebrow arching. "Huh. That sounds a lot like somethin' Jinx would do."
Slight movement next to you. You turn, freezing at the sight of the bluenette sitting beside you.
She takes the chance to casually take the gun from your hand. There's an unimpressed look on her face.
"Guess what?"
You stare back, chuckling sheepishly. How is it that you've worked for Silco himself a few times, but have never met Jinx before?
" ... At least I'll die at the hands of a beautiful woman."
Jinx slaps your head. You let out a small cry, rubbing the sore spot. "I know who you are, moron. Silco's looking for you."
"Oh," you mutter, digging into your bag. "I should, uh, probably give your wallet back too."
🩵
I WANTED THIS TO BE MORE... hang on-- also my bad if reader sounds like a creep i swear that isnt my intention 😭 lemme know tho
"I won't complain if you explode me here rn,, heh..."
"dude shut the fuck up i said im sparing you"
"I bet you're real impressed by my swiping skills tho"
"honestly? yeah sure"
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threeacttragedy · 3 days ago
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Entry 11: The One About the Heart of the Ocean
My father is a big history buff. He fancies himself a bit of an expert about the U.S. Civil War, U.S. Presidents, and World War II. In fact, he’s gifted me with the Useless Knowledge of which four U.S. Presidents were assassinated while in office (Lincoln, Garfield, McKinley, and Kennedy – you’re welcome for that little addition to your own Library of Useless Knowledge).
But, more importantly, my dad has instilled in me the importance of a timeline. The idea that, if you’re collecting information, it’s vital to keep it in chronological order, that way you can look at it, (try to) understand it, and theorize about what happened before and after an event. If the facts are out of order, the conclusion you reach may be in error.
My father and I also like to solve True Crime together. When he visits, we spend hours on the porch studying some random, usually cold, true crime event. We timeline the shit out of it, connect the puzzle pieces together, and exclaim in the end, “We’ve solved it!” I suppose that is part of what keeps me interested in Lukola – not that there is anything criminal in Lukola, except perhaps the “Single White Female” that pops up behind Nicola from time to time – I just enjoy the game of trying to put the pieces together.
Lukola has become a rather intriguing puzzle, don’t you think? It’s definitely one to which I do not have all the pieces. I do, however, enjoy collecting the information and chronologizing it, and now I find it enjoyable to scribble my thoughts out on Tumblr.
So, how did I get here?
Well, it started with boredom and ended with a timeline.
My first entry to the timeline?
July 20, 2024.
What happened on that date?
Well, nothing spectacular really, except JVN posted –
HOLD UP!
HOLD THE FUCK UP!!
OH SHIT!!
YES!
YES, you guessed it! After blowing JVN off for at least three, maybe four, posts in a row, I’m finally getting around to dedicating an entire entry to Their Royal Highness.
JVN is such a fascinating creature. I mean, you get beautiful, witty, and intelligent wrapped into one human being. Oh, and they are kind of a catty bitch, too, and who doesn’t love one of those? That’s why they're the Heart of the Ocean on the USS Lukola; they just give off this very rare blue diamond vibe. Well, that, and because something they did marks the focal point – the heart – from which the rest of my timeline branches.
*I will cut in here to note that I am referring to JVN as they/their in this entry as their Instagram bio indicates they accept “they/he/she.”
Okay, back to July 20.
On that date, JVN posted to TikTok their version of the Charli xcx “Apple” dance. You know that annoying TikTok trend that took over our summer? Yeah, that’s the one – the same one Antonia tried doing – she just couldn’t pull off the JVN version of it. Dear girl couldn’t come close to matching JVN’s “enthusiasm,” and JVN’s version was only made more enjoyable in that they were seemingly mocking Antonia!
But, all’s fair in love and war, right?
JVN’s bestie, Nicola, had already spent the entire summer subtlety combating Antonia over social media. The vibe in the fandom was that Antonia was always trying to one-up Nicola, with Nicola always coming out the victor. I’m sorry, Antonia, you just can’t beat some perfectly timed BTS drops.
So, why did JVN’s TikTok post intrigue me? It wasn’t because it was that amusing. It was because they’d done something I hadn’t noticed before – they’d taunted Antonia on a public forum.
Curious, that.
Now, I’m not saying it was the first time JVN mocked Antonia, but July 20 was the first time I noticed it. That date is the heart of my timeline, but it does not have to be the heart of yours. We can all start at different times but still reach the same conclusions, so long as we keep the information in order.
You would think one wouldn’t mess with the “girl friend” of your best friend’s “best friend,” at least not publicly. But, here was JVN shamelessly mocking Antonia on TikTok. And, just so we’re clear, the public opinion of what JVN was doing with this TikTok is available to view in the comments of their TikTok post. It wasn’t just me that came to this conclusion – and JVN has left these comments up for four months at this point.
JVN’s “Apple” dance was only made more interesting the following day – July 21 – when they included it in their Sunday Dump post on Instagram.
And, Nicola liked it.
Hmm, things were becoming curiouser and curiouser.
Let’s not even pretend that Nicola isn’t street savvy and didn’t understand the context of that video. And, let’s definitely not underestimate the length of her claws.
To be honest, I hadn’t paid too much attention to Lukola since mid-June. It was an “it is what it is” thing for me. Even though I believed the relationship between Luke and Nicola was complicated (see my first blog for that story), Luke had also apparently disappeared into the summertime sun with his friend group, which included Antonia.
Something about JVN openly making fun of Antonia, and Nicola, at the very least acknowledging it with an Instagram like, made me realize something in Luke’s situation must be shifting.
What have I said about little changes? That deviations in modus operandi are what make people start giving the side-eye to a situation.
And, side-eye I did!
I started paying attention to JVN and, on July 25, they posted a series of photos on TikTok and Instagram showcasing “What I would wear if you invited me to your…” We will fast-forward through all the slides until we get to the last one, which read, “…just got dumped and going to take 8 shots dinner at Lupe’s in SoHo.” Was it possible that JVN was hinting at a dumpster fire at the Soho Farmhouse?
If you don’t know what the Soho Farmhouse is, it’s the place where Luke and his friend group, including Antonia, frequented, probably on Luke’s dime (*insert wicked laugh – oh, and a disclaimer that this is all speculation).
Funny that Nicola liked this post on Instagram, too, and it wasn’t even buried in a Sunday Dump.
At this point, JVN had really sparked my damn interest. Like, dear one, what are you hinting at?
On July 29, Deux Moi creeped out from under its rock and reminded the fandom to hate Luke by rehashing Papsmear. Thank you, we needed that. I mean, half of us almost forgot how much we hated him! That’s me being a sarcastic tart, by the way. If we were to fast-forward to today, I’d argue that Luke was the most darling thing to come out of Bridgerton.
Any ways, again, thank you, Deux Moi, for those suspiciously timed Papsmear pictures because they aligned perfectly with the pap pictures People dropped the following day – July 30.
Yep, I am talking about those strangely awkward pap pictures of Luke hanging out in the murky waters of Sorrento with Antonia. Oh, and let’s not forget the video footage of that encounter, which I am sure still upsets and confuses people to this day. In fact, I know it does because, as I was researching this, I had a couple of people get annoyed after I asked them to view it. Funny thing is, that shit never bothered me (I didn’t say that it didn’t later confuse me!). The first time I saw them, I was like, “Luke is not into that girl at all,” and my next thought was, “I wonder how old these pictures are because I would have sworn JVN was hinting at something.”
Now, this story wouldn’t be complete if I didn’t address the rumor portion of it.
First rumor? That Antonia set up the entire Italy pap photo-op because she seemingly knew where to find the cameraman. So, let’s discuss that video everyone seems to hate to acknowledge exists. In the video, you can see Antonia maybe looking in the direction of the cameraman. She then leans into Luke, either to whisper something to him or to reach for something behind him. In my opinion – and this is strictly my opinion – it looks like she’s pretending to reach for something over his shoulder. Still shots of this interaction are the photos People published, presumably because Luke and Antonia looked like they were cheek to cheek.
Okay, notice I said, “first rumor,” because, yeah, there’s a second rumor, too! But, it fits snuggly into that first rumor. Almost immediately – because that’s how fast the Lukola Sleuths get to work around here – rumors began to circulate that Antonia was following on Instagram the photographer that took the Italy pap pictures. In fact, several people I’ve spoken to swear that they witnessed during a TikTok Live a host prove that Antonia was following this photographer. That’s a bit suspicious, isn’t it? Yeah, it fucking is.
Let’s keep moving.
That same day, we had that video drop of Luke watching fireworks, at night, with sunglasses. Speaking of sunglasses, I guess Luke found those motherfuckers because he sure as shit didn’t have them while floating around in that dirty ass water. Any ways, at the end of the video, Rory appears behind Luke, looking in the direction of the camera and smiling like a condescending, sneaky little shit. Now, who was the cameraman? Well, a possible suspect would be Antonia since she was not seen in the video. Go figure.
Alright, so that day finally ended and on July 31, JVN posted to TikTok a cutesy video of themself at the market titled, “When you catch someone trying to sneak a pic but you were born for these moments.” They prance around the market and randomly look at the cameraman (Mark) with a smile and a pose. The caption reads, “I welcome sneaky pics but I can’t guarantee I won’t sneak some back or put on a show for you.”
WAIT A MINUTE!
Did JVN just inexplicably confirm Luke was getting papped by his own friends?
Yeah, I kind of think JVN did.
And, Nicola liked this one as well when JVN posted it to Instagram on August 8.
Didn’t I tell you JVN was a fascinating creature? And, to be honest, JVN only gets better as this Lukola ship continues on its voyage.
Oh, strangely enough, a few days after the Italy pap crap, Luke returned to London alone. The friend group became unsettlingly silent, and Nicola started to get really, really loud – Chaos Week was incoming! And, so were some more JVN crumbs (and nicely timed clap backs).
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heeseungiez · 2 days ago
Text
the tower by the forest | lhs
part one!
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pairings! sorcerer!lee heeseung x fem!reader
synopsis! the immortal sorcerer lives in a tower by the forest filled with dark creatures. he protects the surrounding villages from its dangers, and in exchange, every decade, a girl from one of the villages is chosen to live as his companion. this time, it’s you.
genre! fantasy romance, angst
content warnings! swearing and the fact this is unfinished so this is part one
word count! 11.4k
author's note! i'm scared of making this longer but i'm literally just halfway through...
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Throughout your life, a girl from the villages has only been taken twice. And the first time, you were barely one year old, so it could hardly affect you in any way. The second time, however, you were eleven. At the time, you already understood what was happening and why. A girl around the age of twenty had been chosen to live with the lone and mysterious sorcerer who lived in a tower at the edge of the Forest to prolong his protection of the villages.
Nobody likes to talk about it much. How the girls are chosen, when he comes for them and what he does to them. None of that information is known. Although you’ve heard that usually, once the decade passes, the girls are free to go and live as they please with a solid fortune to their name. The girl you witnessed being taken away ten years ago has been released recently, and you heard from the whispers of the other villagers that she moved to the city and is starting her own business in dressmaking.
For that very reason, every village surrounding the Forest lives in restless anticipation. Any day now, a new girl will be chosen to join the sorcerer in his tower. Ten years, she will live with him and do whatever it is that she’s got to do to keep her family and friends safe from the darkness of the Forest.
You wish you could know how the girls are chosen to be better prepared. It’s glaringly obvious that some villagers think you might be the next girl chosen. You’re the perfect age for it, and apparently, there is also the fact that the girls that go to the sorcerer are usually deemed objectively beautiful or somehow talented.
You’re not exactly talented, but you’re not that beautiful either. You’d argue that Yeji or Chaeryong are far better choices in that regard, but somehow the eyes are still on you. It’s strange, knowing that everyone is convinced you will be next while you can’t see a single reason why. Maybe they just want to be rid of you. Although that is most certainly not the way the girls get chosen.
Everyone simply overestimates your talent with the violin and your voice. That has got to be it. You’re not a genius nor a prodigy, you play the instrument and sing merely because you want to. It’s a hobby, but it’s not something to make you a desirable choice for the sorcerer. And you don’t want to be his choice either. You’d rather stay in your village with your family and friends.
“Y/N!” One of those friends, Jaeyun, calls after you with a grin on his lips, waving enthusiastically. “Do you have time today? I’d like to practise together.” Because both of you play the violin. In fact, it was Jaeyun who made you fall in love with the instrument in the first place.
You smile and nod. “Of course. I always have time,” you say, although untruthfully. For Jaeyun, however, everyone makes time. He is the village’s golden boy. Loved and adored by everyone. He can talk his way into and out of anything. You’re sure he’s never paid for anything either because everyone is happy to give him everything for free — a gift for the beloved boy of Riverfeld.
Whenever you and Jaeyun visit the local tavern, the tab made on his name is never paid, and the owner has never even asked for it to be paid. It’s as if his mere existence is payment enough. But you guess that’s what happens when you’re the people’s happy pill.
“Awesome! Let’s go,” Jaeyun says, grabbing your hand.
You expect him to let you get your violin at home, but it isn’t necessary as he has done that for you. He prepared the whole scene, already knowing you would say yes because why would you not?
“Look,” Jaeyun says, grabbing a sheet that is laid by his instrument. “Sunghoon and I have been working on a new composition and I wanted to try playing it with you.”
You hum, waiting for Jaeyun to approach you. He practically sticks himself to your side with the sheet in hand, showing you the new song they’ve been working on.
It’s a love song. 
There are no lyrics, but as you imagine the sound of the melody, your imagination bringing it to life, you know it’s a ballad. A song of love meant for someone specific. A confession of adoration and admiration. 
“You think you can do this?” Jaeyun asks, solemnly looking at you.
Smiling, you nod. “Of course.”
Both of you grab your violins, sharing the singular sheet in between as you prepare. Sitting down on the ground, you settle the violin on your shoulder and rest your chin atop. A smile adorns your lips at the feeling of holding the instrument in your hands again.
“Can we?” Jaeyun asks softly, also ready. All he needs is a nod from you to lift his bow to the strings of the violin and start the melody. He acts as your guide as this is your first time playing the song. 
It starts off slowly. A sweet melody of two people getting to know each other, growing closer and beginning to care. The tempo picks up when the two lovers begin to realise they are in love. They struggle with the fear, the melody conveying the uncertainty, until finally, they gain the courage to confess. And by the time the song is over, the two lovers are together. 
“We named it Only If You Say Yes,” Jaeyun grins.
“It’s beautiful, Jaeyun,” you say, fighting the growing uneasiness within your belly. Not because of the boy across from you, but a general burning feeling in your body that spreads from your chest to the rest of your body. As if it’s pumping fire instead of blood. 
The frown that contorts your expression springs Jaeyun up to his feet, dropping by your side. “Y/N? Are you okay?” he asks, and while you’d love to nod and say yes, it would be a lie. Nothing about this scorching feeling is okay. 
You hiss and groan, grabbing onto your wrist where most of the pain begins to concentrate. It leaves your other limbs in favour of your right wrist where it burns so much you think your entire limb might melt.
The scream that escapes you is unintentional. You wanted to hold it in, but it was impossible with the pain coursing through you. Jaeyun grabs you by the shoulders, holding onto you. Confused about what is happening to you.
And as he holds you in his embrace, the pain subsides. Slowly but surely, it leaves your body the same way it entered, and you slump against the dark haired boy with your head buried in the crook of his neck.
“Y/N,” he whispers softly, one arm wrapped around your waist to support you while the other moves up to cup your face. He examines you, sweat coating your forehead. 
“My… wrist,” you breathe out, and try to pull away from Jaeyun, but his grip on you is strong, and you can barely do anything without him supporting your weight. So you wait for him to look for you.
“There’s a tattoo,” Jaeyun says, discomfited. Staring at it closer, he grabs onto your wrist. “Golden antlers,” he describes it while his fingers softly trace the pattern, and you furrow your brows, getting a look yourself. 
Jaeyun blanches with a realisation that pains him, glancing at you. “Y/N,” he mumbles, cupping both your cheeks to make you look at him. “It’s his sign.”
You both know who he is. 
Your eyes widen. “But… that can’t be,” you breathe out, shaking your head vigorously. “I know everyone thought it would be me, but I didn’t— I’m not special—”
Jaeyun smiles ruefully, disagreeing with you. “Clearly, you’re more special than you realise,” he says, voice low. “He’ll be paying us a visit soon, then.”
“I don’t want to go,” you say quietly. But what else is there to do? If you don’t go, you will put everyone you care about and other innocent souls in danger. And for what? For your own selfish reasons?
Jaeyun sighs mournfully, hands still cupping your cheeks. “What am I going to do without you for ten years?” he asks himself. 
“Live your life,” you say pragmatically, your hands grabbing his own. “It’ll be fine, right? As long as it means you’ll be safe.”
“Y/N.” Jaeyun licks his lips, wishing there was something he could do for you to make it easier. 
“It’ll be fine,” you repeat to yourself. 
It has to be fine. 
It was not supposed to happen so soon.
Usually, the Forest takes about a month or more since the previous girl’s departure to choose another. But the Forest is not dallying this time, having picked its next target.
Heeseung stares at the golden tattoo on his wrist that connects him with you, not knowing who you are just yet. He will, soon, however, as once the Forest picks a girl, she has to come to him as soon as possible.
He hates doing this, if he’s being completely honest. He’d be just fine living on his own and protecting the people, but in order to keep the darkness in check, there has to be some light. Heeseung isn’t exactly a good fit for that. Which means that every ten years, a girl with the purest of souls must live near the Forest to control it. And with a carefully crafted spell from him, the Forest gets to choose that girl by itself. 
That is the only reason he is now away from his home, riding his horse toward Riverfeld. The village where you live.
Nobody ever knows that he’s coming. He figured it’s better this way, since it stops the villagers from making a scene whenever he does arrive. He learned pretty early on, when it comes to this. He hated how awkward it was when they used to line up just to see at least the tiniest bit of his face, or when they tried to give him gifts instead of their daughters. 
Not how it works. Unfortunately. 
He’d rather take the gifts, too. 
But here he is, entering the small village almost unnoticed aside from the few glances here and there as people wonder who he is. To them, he’s a stranger, and they probably don’t get many of those. He did make sure to dress as a regular traveller, so hopefully they don’t suspect him much.
The tattoo on his wrist calls for its twin, and it pulls him toward the village’s tiny square. A stage has been set up in the centre, and a girl and a boy sit there, both playing the violin together, creating a beautiful song of wistful love. 
A concept Heeseung isn’t familiar with, but he does like the sound of it. It’s a youthful song full of hope. Asking for acceptance where it truly can be found. 
His eyes fixate on the girl playing. 
You.
You are smiling brightly despite knowing your fate, and you don’t stop playing until the song is well and truly over. Both you and the boy stand to bow to the audience when they begin to clap and fawn over you and your talent. 
You keep shaking your head, acting as if you deserve none of it. And the boy throws an arm around your shoulders with a grin, proud for the both of you. Another boy, taller than the other, joins and celebrates with you.
So Heeseung waits. Until everyone around you has said their praising piece to you. Until you’re well and truly alone, and the smile from your lips has dissipated the tiniest bit because you know what will eventually come. That these people who adore you will not be with you for long. That you will have to leave them.
You’re not surprised when he approaches you as a complete stranger. Instead, you look him in the eye and face him directly. “It’s you, isn’t it?” you ask, examining him from head to toe. “You’re the sorcerer.”
It takes a second for Heeseung to recover from it. He has met many girls over the years, each different but same in spirit, and he never thought much of them. But you stand in front of him with a pensive smile, accepting what is to come. There is a beauty to you that many probably don’t see. Though you are gorgeous in general, with big cheeks yet defined features, hair falling over your shoulders. One would have to be blind not to see it.
“Am I that obvious?” he asks, and you shake your head. 
“I think it’s the tattoo,” you reply. “I can sense it. You have it too, right?”
You’re quite clever.
Heeseung nods, and rolls up the sleeve of his cape to show you his identical tattoo. “It connects us,” he says plainly.
You hum. A playful glint enters your gaze, and your smile grows slightly. “I thought you’d be older,” you say matter-of-factly. “You look—”
“Handsome?” He cuts you off because he does not like it when people say he looks young. He knows he looks young. He’s looked the same for the past two centuries, and will continue to do so for as long as the Forest exists.
“My age,” you finish instead. Not young, just your age. That is certainly a new way to describe what he looks like. And he decides at this very moment that he likes it the best. Yes, he can accept looking your age — whatever it actually is. “But I suppose handsome is also a reasonable descriptor,” you add, eyeing his face.
This time, Heeseung is truly robbed of words. Whenever he arrives to take a girl to the Forest, they’re usually afraid of him. The last thing they’d call him is handsome. Yet here you are, standing in front of him, calm and accepting. You’re not crying, screaming or begging to stay. You just are. (a/n: Very demure, very mindful.)
“You should stay for a bit before we leave. My parents are making supper that could feed the whole village. It would be rude to leave before we got to taste it.” You don’t wait for Heeseung’s response before you are making your way toward what he deduces is your home. It’s humble enough, a house fit for a family of four, perhaps. But when you enter, it is filled with more than four people.
The two boys that Heeseung saw with you at the performance are both present alongside some older villagers and a girl some years younger than you. He’s not even sure why he followed you anyway. He should’ve stayed outside and waited for you to say your goodbyes. That’s usually the standard procedure for him, so why is he thoughtlessly breaking tradition all of a sudden?
“Y/N! Who’s—”
“That’s the sorcerer,” you say nonchalantly, shrugging.
“But why—”
“I’m not a monster,” Heeseung speaks, facing the boy you played the violin with. “I won’t take her away without saying her goodbyes… and it’s Heeseung.”
“Who?” you ask.
“Me.”
“You what?”
“Heeseung.”
“That doesn’t make sense.”
“My name is Heeseung.” He rolls his eyes, lips in a thin line.
“Oh! Well, I’m Y/N. Then this is Jaeyun, Sunghoon, Mum, Dad, Mrs Sim, Mr Sim, Mrs Park, Mr Park and Sunghoon’s little sister.” You point at everyone respectively with a soft smile upon your features. “I’m guessing Jongseong forgot he was supposed to come?” you say more to yourself, but Jaeyun hums in agreement.
“He’s been working on the new guitar that he’s trying to make,” he responds. “Forgets he has other duties or the fact he should, you know, eat and drink and sleep to live.”
“Said it’s for you, though,” Sunghoon mumbles, glancing at you. “He thought he’d have enough time to finish it.” Then he throws an apprehensive glance at Heeseung.
“But I don’t play the guitar,” you reply with a pout.
“He was going to teach you…”
Look, the next words that leave Heeseung’s mouth will probably make him regret it later, but watching you with your friends is doing weird things to the organ in his chest he thought had long been forgotten. So it’s a surprise to not just you and your friends when he says: “I know how to play the guitar. If your friend will not mind it, I will allow that guitar to be sent to you.”
The way your eyes widen in sheer surprise and gratitude makes Heeseung think that maybe it’s not such a regretful action. 
The Forest must’ve truly known what it was doing this time around. Everyone in this village seems to genuinely adore you. The purest of hearts among them all, living without the knowledge of it.
“I’m here! I’m here! I got it!” A boy bursts through the door with a guitar in hand, and Heeseung makes the safe assumption that this is Jongseong. Even in him, Heeseung can sense a very beautiful soul through and through, though the innocence is gone. 
It makes sense that you would surround yourself with people just as lovely as you on the inside. Whether you knew it or not.
“JJ,” you coo when he goes toward you with the instrument to hand it to you. “Why would you do all this for me?”
“So you remember me. Us. To come back to us.”
It occurs to Heeseung then that all three of these boys around you love you. As friends or more that is out of his field of knowledge, but the love between you is raw and just as pure and innocent as you are. 
“I could never forget you guys.” You smile and shake your head. “All three of you better be married and with kids by the time I’m back, though.”
“It’s not fair,” Jaeyun says, properly looking at Heeseung. “She’s a good person. Never done anything wrong in her life. Why—”
“I know,” Heeseung cuts him off, shaking his head. “That’s why.” Maybe being curt with them is not the best choice, but they won’t dare attack him.
“Nothing in this life is fair,” Jongseong murmurs sagely, his eyes finding you. But you are staring at Heeseung, brow arched with curiosity.
“Y/N! Boys! Come eat! Supper is done.”
Your parents did not say much when you introduced the sorcerer to them. They merely stared to assess him as if a mere look could tell them what kind of person he was. But, whatever their consensus was, they let him eat supper with you, so it was probably quite positive.
“Won’t deny supper to the man who fights to protect us on a daily basis,” your mother murmured before you all sat down at the table to eat.
You enjoyed yourself for the rest of the day because Heeseung let you. He was letting you say your goodbyes before ultimately whisking you away to his tower, and you appreciated it. 
Everything is going to be fine, you constantly remind yourself. 
Especially as you saddle your horse with Sunghoon’s help because he’s the tallest of your friends. Jay and Jake help carry your bags and attach them to the white mare. 
Heeseung says the ride to the tower will take a few days, which means that your mother packed enough food to last you a month. It’s a bitter kind of goodbye, knowing that you’re leaving to protect the ones you love. You still don’t really want to leave.
You never imagined yourself leaving home before. But now you have to.
“Are you ready?” Heeseung asks, his inquisitive gaze searching your expression for whatever lie you want to tell him.
And you smile, shaking your head. “Not really,” you reply honestly. “But I have to do this, don’t I?”
Heeseung blinks at you, discomfited by your transparency. “Yes,” he says. “The Forest chose you, and its decision is final.”
“Then I’m as ready as I can be.” You purse your lips, nodding. “Let’s go.”
Heeseung is not a very chatty sorcerer. Like, you haven’t known any sorcerers before him, of course, but the books usually depict them as these supernatural and immortal beings who like to have fun. Heeseung is anything but that. He is quiet and brooding. He only speaks up when it’s important, and you decided it would be better not to ask him many questions while you’re travelling lest you annoy him too much.
But by the second night of staying over at a tavern while on the road, it brings you a sense of peace. Usually, you’re not a fan of lack of communication, but with the sorcerer, it seems to be its own form of speaking and conveying what needs to be known.
You lie on the bed, reading a book provided to you by the innkeeper, biting your bottom lip as you wonder whether the sorcerer would scold you for daring to speak at him. He sits on the chair near the fireplace, merely gazing into the fire in silence.
Sighing, he turns his head ever so slightly to glance at you from the corner of his eye. “If you have something to say, then say it,” he grumbles before his attention is snatched away by the snapping fire again.
You shift in your seat, allowing yourself to fully stare at the sorcerer. His hair is as dark as night, loosely framing his face in waves. His honey-glazed skin looks slightly darker with just the fire casting light upon him, and despite his tall frame and broad shoulders, it seems he makes himself smaller in his chair. He must be exhausted.
“Can I ask a question?”
There is silence at first as if Heeseung ponders whether to say yes or no. Then, he responds, “Isn’t that already one? What stops you from asking another?” He doesn’t even look at you as he speaks, and your cheeks heat up in embarrassment. “I appreciate you being considerate, but if there is something on your mind, just say it. I’ll decide whether I want to answer or not.”
Closing your book, you put it aside. You allow yourself to admire the sorcerer from afar, quite taken by his beauty. Though that is not what you need to quell your mind. “So…” you start, unsure of how to word your question. Though what you come up with is not exactly an elegant way to ask either. “Why me?”
You’re met with another round of silence. It almost feels like a decade of stillness, the only sounds made inside the room being your breathing and the crackling fire. But the sorcerer finally turns to you, swallowing whatever comes to his mind at first to give you a composed answer. “Because the Forest chose you,” he says plainly. “And once the Forest chooses, it cannot be undone.”
“The Forest?” You furrow your brows in confusion. “I thought you chose the girls that stay with you?”
Heeseung shakes his head. “That is not how it works. I made the spell that chooses the girls, but ultimately, it is the Forest itself that chooses which girl must live near it.” The solemn expression in his eyes makes you stop for a moment and think about it.
The girls are taken in order for the sorcerer to protect the surrounding villages from the Forest. And now you know that the Forest chooses the girls itself at that. It makes sense, in a strange way. Because you still don’t understand why you only need to live near it, for it sounds like the girls should be some sort of sacrifice to the Forest. Except you will be allowed to go back to your old life after ten years.
“Then how exactly does that work?” you ask, frowning. “If the Forest chooses the girls, what are the specifics? And what do we do? We just live with you?”
“Yes,” Heeseung answers with a sigh. Licking his lips, he glances back at the fire, then at you. “The Forest is a dark place. In order to control it, there needs to be light. Which is when you come in,” he explains, pointing at your heart. He makes a pause, checking your expression to see whether you were still listening to him, only to find you intently staring at his face, not missing a single word that left his mouth. Clearing his throat, he continued, “I designed my spell in a way for the Forest to find the purest soul within the radius of the villages. This time, it’s you.” 
You purse your lips in thought. Never in your life have you thought of yourself as somebody with a pure soul, but apparently that is who you are, according to the sorcerer and his spell. Which is what got you into this situation of having to leave your childhood home and friends. Because the Forest chose you.
“Wait,” you say, a thought coming to you suddenly.
“Yes?” Heeseung raises his brow, watching your expression slowly change into that of distress.
“If the Forest chose me…” you start, frowning, “Does that mean that the creatures of the Forest would be after me? Whether I am at home or—”
“Yes.” The sorcerer nods in affirmation. “That is part of the magic. The Forest is drawn to you, and therefore, it makes my job of protecting the other villages from monsters that much easier. Since all of them are, well… headed for the tower.”
“For me, you mean.”
Heeseung gives a thin smile. “Even now, the Forest is already searching for you. But while we are on the way, and you are with me, you should be hidden until we reach the tower.”
“You didn’t have to tell me that,” you mumble, wondering how you’re going to fall asleep now, knowing that there are monsters specifically looking for you. Which means that, in a way, you are a sacrifice to the Forest, after all. The sorcerer just protects you and the other villages from them by killing said monsters.
“You asked,” he says with a shrug. “Nobody has ever asked before, so I’m not sure to what extent you’re interested in the topic,” he adds.
It occurs to you then, that maybe the only reason Heeseung hasn’t spoken much is because the other girls never had any interest in speaking to him due to the circumstances. He’s being distant simply because that’s how it’s always been for him.
“So, what exactly am I to do at the tower, once we get there?” you ask to continue the conversation. And unlike you thought, Heeseung does not seem annoyed by your questions at all.
“Whatever you want to do,” he replies. “I have an extensive library if you’re fond of reading. I can teach you to play the guitar your friend gave you. You can choose to pick up whatever hobby you want. All you have to do is just… live there as if it were your home for the next ten years so I can continue to protect your real home and other villages.”
“Okay,” you say, smiling, which takes Heeseung by surprise (again). “That sounds like a good deal, I suppose. I will miss my friends and family dearly, but I can do this.”
The Forest chose far too well, this time around, Heeseung thinks to himself and shakes his head. He’s been doing this for centuries, and he has never met anyone quite like you.
Home.
Heeseung lets out a huge sigh of relief when he finally steps inside the tower that has been his beloved home for many, many years. You trail behind him nervously, all of your luggage already sent to your room with a single flick of his hand. You’re not used to such magic just yet, but as time will pass, nothing will be able to surprise you later on.
Although Heeseung has still been keeping rather quiet around you, you felt more comfortable simply speaking at him because you knew he was listening. During the remainder of your travels, you told him much about your life at home and your friends. Oftentimes, if you asked a question regarding his life, you would wait for his answers even if it took him minutes to respond.
“Let me show you all the important rooms,” Heeseung says to you, the corner of his lips lifting in a smile. He’s not sure what it is about you that makes him behave this way, but your aura seems to wear off on him, too. He’s caught himself smiling more often than usual.
When you nod, he starts the tour with the library. You had told him you weren’t that big of a fan of reading, but whenever you had the time and the mood, you liked to nestle with a good book. He also shows you the kitchen, the washing rooms, his office and your bedroom. There are more rooms within the tower, but for now, Heeseung leaves those doors closed.
“Unpack and make yourself at home,” he says, pointing at the plain room. It is not the same one as the girls before you have had, for this one is much closer to his bedroom and office. He knows he probably shouldn’t have done that, but this strange feeling in his chest told him that he might need to keep a much closer eye on you than the other girls.
“Okay,” you say, nodding. “What will you be doing?”
“I’m going to make us supper,” Heeseung informs you.
“Oh. You can cook?” you ask brightly, and the sorcerer scrunches his nose, shaking his head.
“I hope you like bread with butter.”
You blink at him, speechless. “Who doesn’t like bread and butter?” You tilt your head to the side. “But that isn’t all you eat whenever you’re at the tower, is it?”
Heeseung presses his lips together. “No?” he lies, and you narrow your eyes at him.
“You must let me cook, then!” you claim, ready to storm past him into the kitchens rather than to unpack your things, but Heeseung places his hands on each of your arms to stop you from going anywhere.
“I don’t have any ingredients for cooking,” he says, shaking his head.  “Unless you are the one with magic, capable of making food out of thin air.”
“Well…” You pout, looking into the sorcerer’s eyes. “I do not have magic, but I know a hefty trick for getting ingredients.” You grin, aware of Heeseung’s hands still on you. “It’s called shopping.”
“You can’t leave the tower on your own,” Heeseung sighs. “It’s too dangerous. It won’t happen.”
“Then come with me,” you suggest nonchalantly, still smiling. “You will protect me, and I will make sure we have proper supper. Did the other girls truly agree to living on plain bread and butter?” Your brow furrowed, and Heeseung shrugged.
“Sometimes we had meat,” he says.
“I’m surprised they lasted ten years like this.” You shake your head in disbelief. “We live in modern times. There is much more food to eat than just bread and butter and meat.”
“I never needed anything more,” Heeseung grumbles.
“Well, now you do,” you say finally, crossing your arms. “Tomorrow, first thing in the morning, we are visiting the closest village and visiting their market for ingredients.”
“As long as it’s not too early,” Heeseung says defeatedly.
Living with the sorcerer was much easier than you thought it would be. Even if he constantly complains about you waking him up far too early for chores such as shopping for ingredients. 
Today, however, when you approach his door to wake him up as usual, he opens the door right in front of your nose, pushing a cloak toward you. “Here. With this, you can go to the village on your own.”
“But… it’s a cloak.” You pouted, eyeing the piece of black fabric. It had a slight purple shimmer to it, however, and when the sorcerer spoke next, it confirmed your suspicions.
“It’s enchanted. To protect you from the Forest. It shouldn’t be able to track you while you’re wearing it. So put it on and let me sleep.” Heeseung runs a hand through his hair.
You raise your brow at him, noticing the dark bags under his eyes. “Someone woke up on the wrong side of the bed today,” you attempt to tease him, but he merely sighs.
“More like someone didn’t wake up in the bed because they haven’t even gone to bed yet, trying to figure out the enchantment on this damned thing.” He points at the cloak indignantly. “I need my beauty sleep. I can’t keep going to the market with you,” he whines.
This is the revered sorcerer who protects the people from monsters that you got to know. He’s not any different from your friends other than the fact that he’s centuries older, yet somehow his mind seems to be stuck at a specific age — perhaps that is a thing of immortality. Because one doesn’t age, their mind nor body does not develop any further.
“Well, I was never forcing you to,” you say, finally accepting the cloak from him. “But thank you. I’ll make sure to wear this well.”
“Good.” The sorcerer nods.
“You know you could’ve just told me to stop going to the market if you don’t like it so much, right?” you ask, tilting your head to the side. “You’re the one with power here. And I’m the one in danger.”
Heeseung licks his lips and shrugs. “That means you’d stop cooking, though,” he says, not keen on admitting that he prefers your meals to anything he’s had in the last several decades. “Just… go by yourself. And make sure to come back in one piece.”
“How are you so sure I won’t just run away?” you keep questioning him, and he rolls his eyes this time.
“You see this?” He grabs your wrist, pointing at the magical tattoo created by his spell. “We’re connected, Y/N, remember? I will find you wherever you go. But it also means the Forest could do the same thing. Eventually, the enchantment on this cloak could wear out, and if you get stuck somewhere without me and something from the Forest comes for you, then you’ll have nobody but yourself to blame.”
You bite your lip, nodding. He’s certainly made his point. Not that you ever truly considered leaving on your own. You truly are not well equipped to fight monsters on your own. “I understand,” mumbling the response, you yank your wrist out of Heeseung’s grasp.
“Sorry,” Heeseung sighs, rubbing his eyes leisurely. “I don’t mean to be so… irritable. I’m just—”
“Tired,” you finish for him, offering a thin smile. “I know. And I’m thankful for this, really.” You raise the cloak. “Get all the sleep you need, Heeseung. I’ll make sure to come back and prepare breakfast in the meantime.”
“Okay,” he says, allowing himself to grace you with the tiniest smile. Heeseung doesn’t smile often, so the few times that he does, it’s a precious sight. One to be remembered for days to come.
“I’ll get going now. Sleep well, Heeseung.”
As always, the market is buzzing with its early morning magic. Farmers from around the village and many other merchants have their stands prepared, beckoning anyone who shows even the smallest bit of interest in any of their wares. You always like to buy something from each to help them. Besides, the sorcerer’s resources are not exactly limited the same way your family’s used to be.
“No sorcerer today, Miss?” asks the farmer whose wares you’re eyeing. He’s an older man with grey streaks in his hair, and you remember him mainly because he’s always been the nicest to Heeseung out of all the villagers. While the others treat him with distrust and fear, this man has been nothing but respectful. 
“Unfortunately, he chose not to make the trip.” You give a thin smile, shaking your head. “But I plan to make a nice breakfast for him. So, what would you say are your best products today?”
“The sweet potatoes.” A new voice joins the conversation. A boy probably around your age steps into your view, grinning from you to the farmer. “They’ve been growing really well this season.”
“I see,” you hum, examining the newcomer. His big eyes and warm smile are incredibly inviting, and you hope you will see him more often from now on. “I’ll take five, then.”
“Great choice,” the boy says cheerfully, immediately getting to work. “I’m Taehyun, by the way. Are you the new girl living with the sorcerer? It’s a bit novel for us that you’re here since they used to always stay at the tower.”
You smile, making a noncommittal noise. “I’m Y/N. And I think this is new for everyone involved.”
“I’m glad you’re here. It would be a waste for someone so pretty to rot away at the tower,” Taehyun claims, handing you a bag of the best sweet potatoes that he could pick in their batch.
“Stop flirting with the customers, son,” the elder farmer scolds, glancing between you and Taehyun.
Your cheeks burn due to the unexpected compliment. While you are used to your friends telling you that you’re pretty, it’s quite different when it comes from someone you don’t know. “It’s okay, sir. Thank you.”
Taehyun grins, his doe eyes lighting up. “Do you need any more help? I want to ask you some things,” he says, and you turn to his father with furrowed brows.
“What about—”
“Don’t worry, Miss. I’m not that old.” He chuckles, letting Taehyun do whatever he wants. “Besides, you were always curious why I don’t regard the sorcerer with the same apprehensiveness as the others, no?”
You blink at the man. “I suppose yes, but how is that—”
“I have magic,” Taehyun answers simply. “It’s nothing quite grand like the sorcerer’s, but I have it. Look.” Lifting up a sweet potato, Taehyun makes it float in the air, just above his hand. Then, with a snap of his fingers, the potato vanishes and appears back in its original box.
“Woah. That’s still impressive,” you say. “Isn’t it rare, still? To have magic.”
“I think so. But apparently, I wasn’t powerful enough to be allowed to study about it more in the capital.”
“Oh, I’m sorry.” You pout, but Taehyun shakes his head.
“Don’t be. I learned all I needed to know on my own. And now I get to help my parents with the farm, and don’t have to leave them.” Taehyun smiles, sharing a fond look with his father. 
“That is admirable.” You nod, your affection growing for the boy in front of you with every passing second. Besides, you’re possibly going to see him more often, so why not make a new friend?
“So would you like any help? I can carry a lot on my own.” Taehyun speaks proudly, and you giggle, watching him flexing his arms the tiniest bit just to show off.
“If it is okay with your father that I steal you for myself, then I wouldn’t mind another hand, since Heeseung decided to miss out today,” you agree, your heart swelling at the sight of Taheyun’s toothy smile.
“Completely okay,” the farmer says, shaking his head amusedly.
“So, what are you looking for?” Taehyun claps his hands, plastering himself to your side. “I can recommend all the best stands for everything.”
“That would be lovely, thank you so much.”
“It’s no problem, Y/N. I’m really just trying to spend the most time possible with you.”
You giggle again, taken aback by the boy’s frankness. “I’m not that special, you know?”
“And yet you’re all I want to see.” Taehyun’s lines are smooth, making your face feel hotter than the sun. “Come on, would you like to know where to get the best bread around here?”
And so you follow. 
Maybe you shouldn’t have let Taehyun help you all the way back to the tower, but he was so insistent. You couldn’t tell him no. Especially with his large deer eyes. They almost reminded you of Heeseung’s. 
Almost.
Until he stands in the kitchen, looking well-rested, glaring at Taehyun’s figure. To him, he’s a complete stranger in his home, and you invited him in without asking for permission.
“What is this?” he asks, pointing at Taehyun who has been diligently helping you put all your newly acquired items away. He intended to stay in his study until you’d call for him, but then he heard laughter bouncing off the walls of the tower, and it filled him with dread. “I let you out by yourself once, and you bring a stranger to my home?”
“Technically, it’s also my home for the next ten years,” you argue, shaking your head. “And Taehyun is very sweet.” Smiling at him, Taehyun gives you a grateful nod.
“Just because you think someone is sweet, doesn’t mean it’s still not dangerous to let a stranger into the Tower.” Heeseung scoffs, running a hand through his hair. “Do you realise how dangerous that is? Maybe I shouldn’t let you go out anymore…” he speaks to himself, but you and Taehyun can hear him perfectly well.
“You can’t be serious. Just because the other girls were fine staying inside, I’m most definitely not going to be,” you say, putting your foot down.
“It would be for your own good,” the sorcerer says matter-of-factly.
“My good, or your benefit?” You raise a brow at him. Heeseung’s face contorts in anger for the briefest of moments before he schools his expression, staring you down.
“My benefit? You think any of this is beneficial to me?” he asks you calmly, but it’s somehow more terrifying than if he had exploded with fury. “I have been fighting whatever creatures come outside of the forest for centuries, and I don’t even know why, or why I have to. How in the world could that be beneficial to me?” The question is aimed at you, but it’s clear that it is rhetorical — something he has long given up on finding the answer to.
If you weren’t furious with the sorcerer, you would’ve empathised with him, but all you could hear in your head right now was his threat to keep you locked away in his tower by the forest. “Sorry, I misspoke,” you correct yourself, frowning. “I just meant that you’re the reason why I even have to be here.”
“You think I enjoy that?” Heeseung tilts his head, glaring at you this time. “Fine! Whatever. You are free to leave of your own free will, Y/N. Since you’re, oh, so fine without me.” He says, looking at Taehyun this time. A different emotion flashes in his eyes as he presses his lips tightly together. “I’m sure he would love to protect you anyway,” Heeseung scoffs and runs a hand over his face. 
Your face falls as you glance at Taehyun and then look back at Heeseung. “What do you mean?”
“Y/N—” Taehyun attempts to speak, but Heeseung only laughs. It’s such a deprived sound it almost scares you.
“Are you telling me you don’t know that the person you brought here is currently the youngest Sorcerer General? That he works for the capital as one of the most powerful sorcerers aside from me?” 
“What?” This time, you turn to Taehyun fully. “But you said— did you lie to me?” you ask softly, and as Taehyun apologetically stares down at his feet, licking his lips, you know that he, in fact, did lie to you. “Was the farmer truly your father?”
“Yes! Yes, he was!” Taehyun exclaims immediately, shutting his eyes close tightly before meeting yours again. “That’s why I came to the village. Because he told me that Heeseung has been coming there with you… so the capital sent me.”
“Oh.” You step away from Taehyun, not knowing how to feel. “But you still lied to me.”
“Y/N, I’m sorry— I just didn’t want to scare you off—”
“So you made up a whole lie about how you were helping at the family farm with your magic?” you scoff, shaking your head.
“You should’ve been honest with her.” Heeseung chuckles, rolling his eyes. “Y/N is the most honest person I’ve ever met, so the truth would have hardly scared her off.”
You look at the sorcerer, surprised to hear those words leave his mouth. You’re never sure what exactly he thinks of you, but somehow, knowing that he considers you an honest person warms your heart. He certainly must’ve met many liars in his lifetime. And Taehyun is clearly one of them.
“Yes. So whatever you or the capital want from me, or from Heeseung, just leave us alone. Let them know he’s doing his job just fine.”
“Is he, though?” Taehyun questions, staring at you. “He did let you out of his sight this morning.”
“I have protections placed on me,” you claim, but Taehyun laughs dryly.
“If you mean that flimsy scuffed cloak, then I doubt it was powerful enough to protect you from a monster that wants to directly attack you,” he says, unimpressed. “So, I’d dare say he should do his job better.”
“You little—”
“Don’t.” You sigh tiredly, stepping in front of Taehyun. “I can sense animosity between the two of you, but I’m not willing to hear it. I’m sorry, Heeseung, I see your point, I’ve made a mistake.”
“You don’t need to apologise to him, of all people,” Taehyun says from behind you, and you turn to face him, meeting his big eyes with a blank stare.
“Whatever your problem is with Heeseung, I don’t care. You lied to me, and I don’t appreciate it. The last thing you get to do is insult Heeseung under his roof.” You place your hands on your hips, frowning. “Either be nice, or stay quiet.”
Taehyun clenches his hands into fists, glaring back at Heeseung. But he gives in, sighing in defeat. “He’s not just the reason you have to be living in this tower for the next ten years, you know?” He tells you quietly, enough for Heeseung not to hear. “He’s also the reason the Forest is as dangerous as it is. That’s why he’s the only one tasked with fighting it. So don’t think he’s being honest with you either.”
Colour drains from your face as you listen to him. This time, you’re certain it is the truth because of the graveness in Taehyun’s voice. Though you don’t understand why he’s being secretive about it. Why doesn’t he say it directly even to Heeseung?
Shaking his head, Taehyun moves to leave. “If you ever need help, let me know. I’ll be around, making sure that Heeseung is doing his job well.”
“Dickhead,” the taller sorcerer murmurs under his breath even before Taehyun departs entirely, possibly having heard him. But he didn’t react in any way, simply leaving you alone with Heeseung once again.
You look at Heeseung, not knowing what to think of him now. Though when he smiles at you as if nothing happened, you want to forget Taehyun’s harrowing words.
“Do you need any help with breakfast? I can fry eggs.”
Despite Taehyun’s words, you continued going to the market on your own. You noticed a deer following you around whenever you did so, and you assumed it was another one of Heeseung’s protective precautions to keep you away from danger.
Whenever you come across Taehyun now, he has this distinct look on his face of sharing a secret with you that Heeseung doesn’t know about. Of course, you didn’t tell him. How could you relay such information onto him, not knowing how he’d take it? How would one react to finding out they are the reason so many lives are in danger?
“Ah, crap!” you curse under your breath after what feels like the millionth time of failing to strike the correct chord on the guitar from Jongseong. It shouldn’t be difficult considering your expertise with the violin, but you’re struggling regardless. 
You close your eyes, knowing it’s probably because you can’t focus. You keep thinking back to Taehyun’s words and how it’s somehow his fault that the forest is dangerous. Which also means he is the reason why you’re in danger, and why the forest wants to take you. Though you don’t know how, or what it means.
“Do you plan to torture the poor instrument for long?” Heeseung, as if hearing your thoughts, appears in the music room with a soft, amused smile playing on his lips.
“Sorry,” you say instantly, looking up at him. “I simply can’t seem to figure it out.”
“Allow me.” Heeseung steps closer to you, outstretching his hand to take the guitar.
You let him, watching him nestle next to you on the small sofa that you had chosen for practice. With a smile, he begins playing a song that both sounds foreign and familiar to you. The melody begins merrily, yet as it goes on, the song turns into a mixture of fury and betrayal. A tale that strikes to the very core of your heart, leaving you breathless. 
“What song was that?” you ask once the sorcerer is finished. 
“I don’t know,” he replies honestly. “It’s just been on my mind for a while…” Heeseung tries to hide his confusion, but not even he knew that these emotions have been festering within him.
“Here.” He hands the guitar back to you. 
Accepting it, you let the instrument sit on your lap while Heeseung moves to kneel on the ground in front of you. He’s tall enough to still be at eye level with you, and you startle when his fingers brush against your hand. 
“Sorry, allow me,” he says quietly, taking your hand in his and placing your fingers on the strings of the guitar. “I’m going to teach you some basic chords first, so you don’t torture the guitar at random.”
You blink at him, not sure how to react. With the sorcerer this close to you, it’s hard to process anything, let alone his words. All you can hear is intense buzzing in your ears, and the storm within your heart. 
Gulping, you nod carefully. Heeseung smiles, guiding your fingers along the strings to show you each chord, making sure that you understand everything perfectly. 
It becomes easier when you know the chords. Now that you can connect each sound to what you already know, it doesn’t seem as difficult anymore. With a grin, you find yourself playing the very melody Jaeyun and Sunghoon composed, and it makes you miss home — though in a good way.
Being here means they are safe. That is what matters most. 
“You’re a natural,” Heeseung says, but the proud feeling is gone within moments.
He makes an expression unfamiliar to you as his eyes roam the music room, and you wonder what he is thinking. He abruptly stands up instead, walking toward the window with a frown.
“Stay here,” he commands, closing the window. You shouldn’t be surprised when he disappears as fast as he appeared, but it hurts the tiniest bit.
You watch him head to the forest from your closed window, wishing for him to have told you that he had sensed danger and needed to leave instead of departing almost without a word. 
After hours had passed, you considered running to the village over to find Taehyun so he’d help you find Heeseung somewhere inside the Forest. But as you open the door of the Tower, Heeseung comes stumbling through the entrance, collapsing on the floor with blood splattered all over his clothes. 
“Heeseung!” You cry out, going to examine him and his wounds instantly. He groans when you turn him to his back, and you notice a large bite from what you can only assume was an oversized wolf on his shoulder. “What happened?” you mumble. 
“Your music,” Heeseung whispers. “It’s—”
“No, shh.” Putting your hand over his mouth, you shut him up. “I need to treat your wounds first. Then you can explain yourself,” you say, heart pounding in your ears. 
Heeseung is an immortal sorcerer. This is probably not as severe as it looks to him, but it doesn’t change the fact that it worries you. That you are worried for him.
From the kitchen, you grab a dittany solution and a piece of cloth to wash the wound with, before finding a kit for wound-treating in the bathroom.
Your hands shake while you tear Heeseung’s tunic off of him for better access to the wound. It allows you to see not only his toned chest and stomach, but also the many scars that tatter his honey-coloured skin. 
Pouring the solution over his shoulder, you ignore the hiss he lets out, grateful that he isn’t fighting you. 
You do your best to wash the bleeding wound before dressing and wrapping it in bandages. See, being close to three boys of your age gave you some expertise in treating wounds, but it had never been this severe before. It was never a large bite from a monster of the Forest. 
“I need to get you to your room,” you say weakly, wrapping your arm around Heeseung’s torso. “Can you move?” 
The sorcerer doesn’t respond with words, but he doesn’t let you use all your strength to carry him around either. While most of his weight is still on your shoulders as he drapes his arm over your shoulders, he does his best to walk on his own. 
You never complained about the stairs in the Tower before, but today is the day when they seem to be your absolute doom. Luckily, Heeseung’s bedroom is not too far up. 
Huffing and puffing by the time you reach the door to Heeseung’s room, you’re happy to find relief in opening the door that leads into a large bedroom with… almost nothing inside. Sure, there are some books and a desk, but other than a bed, the room is painfully empty and plain.
You have no time to question it. Instead, you lead Heeseung toward his bed, helping him lie down. But when you want to leave him to rest, he grabs your wrist, not letting you go.
“Heeseung, you need to rest.”
“Don’t leave,” he says, shaking his head. “Stay, please.”
“Heeseung—”
“I need you here.”
“That’s—”
Heeseung, with what strength he has left, pulls you toward him onto the bed. You fall on top of his chest with a yelp, and you seem to be the only one bothered about it. Especially when the sorcerer wraps his arms around you, refusing to let go of you.
“It’s you the Forest wants. He won’t let you go. I can’t protect you if you’re not with me,” he rambles into your hair, strangely frantic. Though you write it off as a side-effect of his injury.
“He can’t have you, Eunjin. Please don’t leave me. You’re my heart.”
Eunjin.
Who’s Eunjin?
When Heeseung wakes up, it’s in a cold sweat. The room spins in his vision, and when it finally settles on the open window, he can only feel a strange sense of emptiness. 
Attempting to move is a terrible idea. Heeseung groans in pain, hand reaching for the bandaged shoulder that you treated. The wound is still fresh, but you made sure to keep it from getting infected. 
His recollection of yesterday’s events is blurry, but he does remember you helping him to his room and him asking you to stay. So finding his room cold and empty without your presence hurts. Not that he would admit such a thing out loud. 
Heeseung is supposed to be the aloof,  mysterious and brooding sorcerer from the Tower, yet you’ve made him smile more times than he can count in the past months that he fears more than usual for your safety. 
He always managed to keep a professional relationship with the other women during his time as Keeper of the Forest, one could say, because keeping distance between himself and people who didn’t want to be here was never hard. However, it proves to be difficult with you. Especially when you act like you actually enjoy his company rather than him being a nuisance in your corner. 
You enter Heeseung’s room without knocking. Though in your defence, you did not expect him to be awake just yet. Breakfast is clutched in your hands, ready to be served to Heeseung on an actual silver platter. 
“Oh. Good morning,” you say softly with a tiny smile. “Are you feeling alright?”
The sigh of relief that leaves Heeseung’s lips at the sight of you and the knowledge of your safety is unfamiliar to him. Obviously, he has always worried for the women staying with him, but never this much. Not when he is the one who got hurt. 
Besides, they never brought him breakfast to bed either. In fact, nobody has ever done that, as far as Heeseung is aware. So maybe the way his heart begs to jump out of his chest when you approach him is an entirely reasonable reaction. 
“I could be better,” Heeseung replies quickly, when he notices a frown forming on your lips because he was quiet for too long. “You didn’t have to do all this,” he says. 
“But you got hurt.” You shake your head in disapproval. “I feel like this is the least I can do,” you sigh, running a hand through your hair. 
A sigh of defeat leaves your lips. One that Heeseung is familiar with as he has felt powerlessness many times before. But the last thing you are is powerless. You don’t even know it, but the reason Heeseung had to leave yesterday was specifically because you’re too powerful.
Your music is its own kind of magic, and unfortunately, it lures the creatures of the Forest directly to you. But Heeseung can’t tell you that. Music is an important part of your life, and he’s willing to fight whatever comes for you rather than disappoint you or make you upset. 
There is also this underlying feeling of having come across this kind of magic before. It was from… he cannot not remember who had the magic or when exactly in his life he came across it. Yet he knows it’s important. This person who wielded this magic meant something. Whoever they were. 
“All I need from you is to be safe,” Heeseung says almost too intimately, surprising even himself. Your lips part in shock as you stare at him, hands tightly gripping onto the tray with breakfast. 
Gulping, you nod. “I am safe.” 
You dare moving closer to Heeseung, offering the freshly made breakfast to him with a timid smile, which he accepts gratefully. It isn’t just the tea you prepared that makes him feel warm inside. 
“Please, rest now. I promise not to leave the Tower while you recover,” you reassure the sorcerer.
“But how will you—”
“I wrote to Taehyun,” you reply, and Heeseung hates the pang of jealousy he feels within his heart at the mention of the other sorcerer. “I know he’s been keeping an eye on us, so it was easy to contact him and ask for a small favour.”
“You mean turning him into a delivery man?” Heeseung's brow raises, and you shrug.
“It’s the least he can do.”
Heeseung snorts, amusement filling his bones. Of course, you would be the one to reduce a Sorcerer General of a large army to something as measly as a delivery man. 
And the best part about it? Taehyun is going to do it.
“Thank you,” you say to Taehyun when he enters the Tower with bags of ingredients. Since Heeseung got hurt, you plan to make a large lunch and dinner to help him recover faster. 
“No problem.” The man shrugs. “You had something to ask me?” he adds, since your request for groceries was not the only one you made in your message to him. 
Pursing your lips, you nod. Leading Taehyun into the kitchen to put away the food, you think of the best way to form your question. Though the base is simple: you want to know more about Heeseung. Things that not even he knows, it seems. 
“Oh.” He chuckles in understanding. “You want to know what I meant before.” Looking at you, his brows furrow. “Why the sudden interest? Did something happen?”
You shake your head. “I just want to know what you meant by it,” you argue. “How can the Forest be Heeseung’s fault only?”
“It’s simple, isn’t it?” Taehyun answers with a question of his own. “It’s a curse that he’s not aware of because the curse itself makes him forget. He doesn’t know it himself, but he’s far older than two centuries.”
“He is?”
Taehyun nods. “I don’t know that much myself, but his history is something sorcerers study in the capital. It’s just that all the details are very blurry and every book that mentions him is merely a different interpretation of what could have happened rather than what truly did happen.
“A detail that remains the same, however, is that there used to be seven of them. Seven Sorcerer Guardians who protected a princess of the Old Kingdom. She was a powerful priestess and her magic was beyond anyone’s understanding, so she created these seven sorcerers who helped her as her power grew. But she died alongside them in a war that destroyed the Old Kingdom, and unlike her, the seven sorcerers were reborn in a completely new world with magic that likely came from the princess.
“Nobody knows where the other six sorcerers are. They’re likely alive and well, but we’re not sure where they are nor who they are. But Heeseung… The power he wields now is only a sliver of what he had two centuries ago due to a curse of an unknown origin to us all. And the speculation is that the power that he lacks is now what makes the Forest what it is.”
“Which is why he’s the only one fighting it…” you finish for Taehyun, and he hums. 
“I’m not saying he’s a monster or anything. It’s just that there is so much we don’t know about him.”
“I understand.” You nod. “Thank you for telling me.”
“Where is he anyway? Are you alright?” Taehyun worries for you, and you chuckle. “Do you need anything else?”
“I’m fine, don’t worry. But Heeseung got hurt last night, so I don’t want to leave him here all alone.”
“He’d be fine,” Taehyun scoffs. “We heal faster than normal people. Immortality and all that.” He continues to help you put things away in silence for barely a minute before speaking again. “You’re different from the other women Heeseung has protected in the past,” he claims. 
Biting the inside of your cheek, you glance at Taehyun. “Am I?”
“Something is different about you.” Taehyun nods. “Your aura is so much more… it’s stronger. Like… I think you have magic, Y/N.”
“What? No.” You shake your head in denial. “How could I have magic? Am I not way past the age for finding that out?”
“Magic manifests in many ways, Y/N. Yours could be so subtle nobody ever noticed, but it is there. It’s strong, just not… obvious,” Taehyun disagrees with you.
“But then… why wouldn’t Heeseung tell me that?”
“Why would he tell you that?” Taehyun counters. “I think he’s scared, Y/N. The Forest behaves differently than it used to. It no longer searches anywhere. It’s dormant.”
“But Heeseung fought some creatures yesterday.”
“Because something called them forth. I monitored the Forest’s activity, and it was like… they found what they were looking for last night.”
“Wait…” you pause, staring at Taehyun. “If you were monitoring the Forest, why didn’t you help Heeseung?”
“It’s not in my jurisdiction.”
“Bullshit,” you spit, shaking your head. “You could’ve prevented his injury.”
“He’ll be fine, Y/N.”
“But he’s not fine now!” you counter, shaking your head. “He was partly delirious yesterday and… he called me Eunjin.”
Taehyun’s face turns grave at the mention of the name. “Eunjin’s dead,” he says with a deadpan.
“Yeah? I figured,” you scoff. There are many things you could guess based on what Heeseung said last night. But you did not like the way it made you feel. 
“Eunjin was different from the other women Heeseung has protected,” Taehyun sighs, offering an explanation in an attempt to quell your indignation. “She was a sorceress studying in the capital before, you know, the mark.” Taehyun points at the one you have on your wrist.
“And she died? I never heard of anyone dying—”
“It was covered up well,” Taehyun says. “Besides, we don’t really know if she died. All we know is that she went into the Forest on her own and never came back. Heeseung searched for her, I think, but she disappeared.” A frown settles on Taehyun’s lips, and you study him with your head tilted to the side. 
“She’s the reason you don’t like Heeseung,” you say matter-of-factly.
Taehyun chuckles, shaking his head. “That obvious, huh?” he asks, running a hand through his hair. “Eunjin was my best friend in the capital; we studied together. She was… stronger than me.”
“Oh. I’m sorry,” you say, moving toward Taehyun with uncertain steps. Not that long ago, you were still upset with him, but now you want to comfort him somehow. The way he looks at you, with big sad eyes, you can’t resist the urge to take his hand in yours and offer a warm smile. 
“You really need to be careful around him.” Taehyun looks at you solemnly, covering your hand in his. “Eunjin wanted to go into the Forest because of him. Please, don’t make the same mistake.”
“I won’t.” You can’t promise that. 
Taehyun smiles ruefully. “Who’s the liar now, huh?” He clearly wants to say something else, perhaps a wish that should not be spoken aloud, but he doesn’t get the chance.
“Y/N, I think my wound started healing—” Heeseung walks into the kitchen, watching you jump away from Taehyun, yanking your hand out of his grip. Confused, Heeseung glances between you and Taehyun. 
“Woah, that— that is great news!” you exclaim hastily, a large grin breaking across your lips as you pretend not to have learned about Heeseung’s past. 
“See, I told you he’d be fine,” Taehyun adds lamely in an attempt to resume the conversation.
“It’s a relief.” You nod. “Do you need anything, Heeseung? More food? Water? Tea? Coffee?”
“I’m fine, thanks.” Heeseung gives you a weird look. He knows you’re hiding something, but doesn’t press the issue with Taehyun right next to you.
“You do realise you’re not his maid, right?” Taehyun raises his brow at you. 
“Taehyun—”
“Would you prefer it if she was yours?” Heeseung challenges in turn. 
“She’s not property to give out like that.” Taehyun glares at the other sorcerer. 
“Stop talking about me like I’m not here,” you say firmly, fixing both men with a stern stare. It’s especially pointed at Taehyun because of the conversation you two shared literally moments ago. “I know you two have issues, but do not make me a ball the two of you get to kick around to prove a point.” 
This gets both sorcerers to look at you, their expressions turning apologetic.
“I’m my own person, and I can do whatever I want. If I want to offer Heeseung a cup of tea then I can do that,” you say, looking at Taehyun. They seem to look regretful now, realising that their words may have been hurtful toward you, when that is the last thing they intended. “I think it’ll be better if you leave now, Taehyun.”
“Y/N, I’m—”
“I’ll walk you out.”
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tags: @moonpri @addictedtohobi @superbbananananana @strayy_kidz
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zorbik-guligan · 1 day ago
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Not really sure what incongruous means so I'll look it up after but it does feel like as i get older life gets more complex theres more things i understand now that sure i knew about them before but not in great detail but it feels like I've become so fucking complex as a person that if i tried to explain what i actually think and feel it would just overwhelm a person so i try and section myself off into pieces and just use different parts of me with different situations or people and it may just be because ive spent most of my time these past 2 almost 3 years now alone with nothing to do but think and figure myself out that when im asked what i think about something slightly personal its kinda hard to say it just got lost in my head somewhere and that whatever i think will change at a moments notice like i can bring up memories of lots of things and remember nostalgic times but i spent so long thinking about why i feel a certain way or what makes me feel a certain way in order to try and get a better hold of myself that ive kinda forgotten alot of my past like so many memories that i made are just gone because remembering them made me feel a way i dont want to feel like i remember realizing the beginning of 6th grade that i had completely forgotten 5th grade and the reason why was because that time i had was so nice yet not at the same time my brain just frogot because it didn't want a reminder of how good yet not something can be like great teachers who for the first time ever actually seemed to care as far as i could tell class mates who were generally friendly and occasionally checked on me if i seemed off yet i felt so alone cause nobody there really seemed like a real friend like the friends i had before who even when we were in deep trouble wouldn't rat me out and would stick with me who genuinely cared and missed me if i was sick getting older and not having anyone to socialize with for really formative years off my life has made understand those really old dudes who are nice and always up to make friends but just seem extra lonely for some reason despite knowing so many people i guess technically being that alone did hurt me but i kinda learned that im just not alone ever when im outside theres always some squirrels birds or plants nearby that make it more lively its why ive grown so fond of certain forested spots they are always lively and it feels like hanging out with all my friends its also why i enjoy making things like with metal or wood stone or even writing and painting those things feel alive in a way same with music and having time to think so much has made me reflect and realize that no day is the same and even when something changes something else stays the same or gos back to how it was in a weird cycle like growing but remembering where you were growing older for me anyways is like gaining more skills and more knowledge not just on the stuff around me but on myself too obviously people change sometimes pretty quickly too but getting older makes you learn more about yourself which duh that how life works but still it feels weird to be aware of it at 17 when it feels like i should still be trying to figure out my favorite youtuber or something not contemplate who i am as a person and what makes me feel the way i do but its a good kind of weird and theres always more to learn and find so i still have plenty of room to learn more about myself still not being able to really fully let a person know you kinda sucks but to be fair that is a rather special thing its also nice being able to put into words why i feel a certain way so that i can actually explain myself instead of just going quiet cause i dont know myself that well still kinda funny to know your own problems but not be able to jusy fix them when you know its a very deep problem even when it seems surface level and damn i got kinda personal there woops also just noticed that im shaking so might be overwhelmed remembering 5th grade which is probably why i frogot it or at least thought i did
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anybody else feel that being human is like being a long-time syndicated cartoon character watching the world get more complex while your own design stays the same until youre incongruous with the reality around you??
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sweetmodel · 1 day ago
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Hey, if you're seeing this, I most likely died. I've been battling a really really intense illness for a few years now. I don't want to got in too much detail about It but it worsened these last months and I've basically been spending my final weeks living in my hospital room.
Many people have asked me what I think happens after we die since, you know, we can shift realities and all that... I was kind of afraid of answering and hesitated because I didn't want to influence anyone to do anything stupid and reckless. But now, talking about it makes me feel better, so I guess if you're more suggestible stop reading now... Or keep going. But I warned you.
Honestly, I stuck around in this reality just to find out. I know it sounds really morbid but I'm curious to know how dying is going to feel like. I'm not scared or anything because I've shifted many times and honestly I think dead is just the end of the body, not of the consciousness. I don't think consciousness can ever truly die, at least the way they define death. I think death, just like anything in this reality, is a creation of consciousness/awareness, and when we die we go to... Where we most likely think we end up to.
I always thought heavily religious people are now in their own heaven/hell, and for us shifters, since we know we can go wherever we want, then the choice is actually ours. I know by the time I die I'm going to end up in one of my many realities.
I guess I'm just rambling but... I'm happy I created this blog and helped people. I remember when I first found out about shifting many years ago, it feels like centuries passed! I never could have imagined I would end up doing things like magic, being famous, a pop star, an actor, a fairy, seeing the universe, and so on... I wish I could have said more honestly but it has been really hard making posts.
My last advice for all of you is to never stop dreaming, because the things you want are already yours. You don't know about shifting because that's what you're supposed to do, you know about shifting because that's the bridge for the things you already have. You were powerful enough to manifest in your reality the key to be limitless. Or, I'd rather say, you REMEMBERED your true nature. Break free from limits, because ultimetely you created those too.
So I guess... Bye, unless I end up interacting with any of you somewhere else ;).
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murdockcastleslut · 3 days ago
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𝔒𝔣𝔣 𝔗𝔬𝔭𝔦𝔠
synopsis: y/n is an up and coming influencer, who has established her own with thriving youtube channel and podcast. when she releases a new episode with her new co-host and special guests, things get messy.
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a rafe cameron smau! |part eight| part nine |part ten|
a/n: This is a long one for you guys :) thank you to @ivysprophecy @kimoralov3 for letting me annoy the shit out of you as i bounce ideas off of y'all.
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Off Topic Official Transcript
12:30 
Cleo: so Rafe, you did a recent shoot with loewe. 
Y/n: [you bite your lip subtly] oh my god yeah, i remember hearing Sarah talk about it. you looked really good. 
Rafe: oh yeah? [he raises his eyebrow] thank you. it was really fun, the crew and photographer were great. i’ve always wanted to do a shoot with them and i was so grateful when i got the chance. 
Rafe: i know it’s yalls’ podcast but if you could work with any brand, which would it be? 
Cleo: easy, easy man. either gucci or miu miu. 
Y/n: i think for me it would probably be ysl or prada. 
Rafe: yeah, you’d be a prada girl? [he asks cockily]
Y/n: yeah, haven’t you seen me rock a pair of prada sunnies. i always serve face. [you smile and then give a model face to him and cleo] 
Cleo: that is correct. my girl always looks good, especially in prada. 
Rafe: oh, i have no doubt. [he smiles at you brightly]
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26:45
Y/n: [laughing at something Rafe said before hand]
Cleo:[smirks] so rafe, we have this recurring segment of this show called “be mine” and it’s where we ask the guest, what’s their ideal type or what they are looking for in a relationship.
Y/n: [stops laughing and is subtly looking at Cleo with bewilderment] 
Cleo: and since we don’t have more than one guest today, y/n will share with you! 
Y/n: [looks at Cleo with a look of confusion] i will? 
Cleo:[gives her look] 
Y/n: i guess i will be today. 
Rafe: [chuckles at your reaction] i have only been in two really serious relationships and they were both totally different experiences. the first person i'm really good friends with still but that relationship taught me all the things i did want like someone adventurous, kind, and someone who can communicate. in this life we live in the media. i never wanna be the last person to know something about my partner. i think from my last relationship we were very private and i didn’t really mind it but sometimes i wanted to share cute photos of them… [he shifts in the chair and manspreads a bit]
Cleo: [she looks at you and gives you a smirk at the mention at photography]
Rafe (continued): especially since i really like film photography and really i couldn’t share my photos, so i wanna find someone who's comfortable with that for sure. and by no means do i think i am perfect, i think i got somethings to work on but those are just somethings that are really important to me. [he finishes speaking and looks at you for your reaction.]
Cleo: [is smirking in her seat] damn model boy knows what he wants. 
Rafe: [laughs] sometimes if you want something you just gotta put it out there. [he shrugs and smirks]
Cleo: ya know y/n here loves film photography? has a whole account dedicated to it too.
Y/n: [your eyes blunge out hoping she’d be quiet] yeah, i do but it’s nothing. 
Rafe: [smirks and leans forward and places his elbow on the chair arm and places his chin on his knuckles] it’s not, nothing. it’s cute, sweetheart. [he gives you a kind smile] so, what are you looking for? [he points with his chin to you]
Y/n: um… i agree with a lot of what race has to say. i especially feel the same about communication, in my last relationship there was a really big lack of it and that along with cheating was the end of our relationship. 
Rafe: [frowns at the mention that you have been cheated on]
Y/n: So now i think i need someone who is willing to take things slowly and understand that it takes me a second to trust their intentions. but i also really want someone who likes to travel because i love traveling and seeing new places. also my friends have to give the stamp of approval because they are everything to me. [you smile at cleo]
Y/n: but my ideal type, i don’t know, tall, kind, intelligent, passionate, empathetic, and i don’t think it would hurt anyone if he was pretty on the eyes either.[you smile widely] 
Rafe: i think it's really raw and real of you to talk about trust in that way because i feel the same way. 
Cleo: you two have a lot in common huh? 
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y/n's phone
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taglist: @ivysprophecy @kimoralov3 @sabrina-carpenter-stan-account @charli123456789 @wearemadeofstardust0 @frankoceanluvr11 1 @harrys-housewife @urbrunettebombshell @mayhapsnini i @psychicnatural @aariahnaa @rafeycameronsgf @laniirackssss @cl4uus @honk4emoboyz
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muniimyg · 4 hours ago
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♡ 05: i bet we'd have really good—
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series m.list // taglist
note: wowie,, thank u for 1.5k and for being so patient 💛 i’m so happy to be ending this mini fic and to have been interacting with u all :) my apologies if this ch sucks LOL i'm so sick rn but i'm tired of rewriting n writing... so enj !!! it's been so fun and i can't wait for more fics to come in 2025 !!! kisses my kitties😽💓
⏱️ this part goes thru time skips!
💭 which bed chem jk moment was ur fave?
warnings: tension/slow burn (friends first yk),, mean!jk trying to figure out how to be nicer to oc,, jk calls oc baby and kitty !!! teasing/dry humping (bc jk has glasses on. jk plays with her titties/nipples & jk cums thru his sweatpants),, jealousy (v teeny tiny),, virginity talk/actual sex; oc loses her virginity to jk (jk eats her out/fingers her, ass slapping, dirty talk, rawdogging,, missionary, doggy, blowjob/headpushing & face cumshot)
//
it’s been a week since jungkook kissed you, and he has made it your problem.
truth be told, he has made a game of this—hovering without hovering… just close enough to test the line. whatever way he plays, jungkook is always shameless in the most subtle and maddening ways.
sometimes his hand brushes yours as you walk, light and fleeting… and it’s impossible not to notice the way his fingers twitch. it’s like he’s debating whether to grab it or not.
you don’t make it any easier on yourself, either.
there’s this suffocating tension between you two and some days are better than others… like today.
“why are you so quiet?” you ask, glancing at him over your shoulder.
he tilts his head, feigning confusion. 
“why? does the silence make your heart race?”
you scoff, rolling your eyes, and that’s when he strikes—his foot nudging yours mid-step. it’s just enough to throw you off balance, making you stumble slightly, your bag slipping again.
“jungkook!”
he’s already reaching out, catching the strap before it can fall. 
“careful,” he says, his voice all mock concern, but the way his lips twitch gives him away.
you glare at him, yanking your bag out of his grip. 
“you’re the one who tripped me.”
“prove it."
"seriously?"
"if you can't prove it... you have to kiss me. you know, as compensation for accusing me so unjustly." he says, wide-eyed and innocent, though the corners of his mouth are curling into a smirk.
it’s infuriating, but it’s also... not. 
not when he’s looking at you like that, like he knows exactly how to get under your skin and is thoroughly enjoying it.
“do friends kiss?” you narrow your gaze at him. “do friends trip each other over? do friends—“
“do friends wait for each other?” jungkook leans towards you. “mhmm? do friends have ulterior motives—”
“you have ulterior motives?”
“oh, absolutely.”
friendship. 
it’s odd to say the least—the way you and jungkook have fallen into this friendship. that’s what you’ve both agreed on. 
friends. 
but the lines are blurry. 
so blurry they might as well not exist at all… because what kind of friends kiss on the cheek as casually as saying hello? what kind of friends text each other goodnight every single evening, or linger too long in conversations that could end with a simple goodbye?
the rules of your agreement feel more like suggestions—ones jungkook seems intent on bending just enough to keep you guessing. and you let him, which might be the strangest part of all.
… because deep down, you know this isn’t just friendship. not with the way he looks at you, his gaze lingering a second too long, or the way his touch always feels like a question he’s waiting for you to answer.
but maybe that’s the thing about blurry lines—they give you just enough room to pretend you don’t already know where you’re headed.
yet, even with all his teasing, there’s a hesitancy to him sometimes—a split-second pause when your hands brush, a quiet shift in his expression when he catches you looking at him. it’s like he’s still figuring out how to balance whatever this is between you, testing the waters but not wanting to dive in too fast.
and honestly?
you feel the same.
it’s why you let him get away with stuff like this. why you don’t pull away when his hand accidentally-on-purpose brushes yours for the third time in as many minutes. why you don’t tell him to stop following you to your study spot or showing up outside your class with some excuse about “just being in the area.”
because the truth is, you like having him around. 
you like the way he keeps you on your toes… even if it’s by trying to trip you up, only to catch you before you fall.
and maybe—just maybe—you like the way his smile softens sometimes when he thinks you’re not looking.
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tonight, the group decides on a night out.
the street food spot everyone agreed on is already buzzing when you get there, the warm glow of string lights crisscrossing above the narrow alleyways, casting soft shadows on the busy stalls below. the air is alive with the scent of sizzling tteokbokki and freshly steamed hotteok, mingling with bursts of laughter and the occasional pop of oil from a nearby grill.
you arrive late as usual. 
by the time you weave your way through the crowd, the others have scattered, splitting up to hunt down whatever caught their eye. 
that’s when you spot him.
jungkook leans lazily against a lamppost near the edge of the main street, one hand tucked into his pocket, the other holding a stick of half-eaten odeng. the glow from the lights above reflects faintly in his dark eyes, making them look warmer than usual, though his expression stays comfortably neutral—like he’s been waiting.
but he doesn’t mind.
“you’re late,” he says as you approach, not even bothering to straighten up. his voice is low, unbothered, but there’s something teasing in the way his lips twitch into the barest hint of a smirk.
“i’m literally 5 minutes late.”
“still late.”
jungkook takes one last bite of the fish cake before tossing the stick into a nearby bin. he steps closer, casual but deliberate, and before you can come up with a snappy reply, he leans down and presses a quick kiss to your cheek.
it’s smooth—too smooth.
it’s like he’s been doing it forever.
you barely have time to register the warmth blooming in your chest before he’s grabbing your hands, shoving them unceremoniously into the front pocket of his hoodie along with his own.
“jungkook—”
“your hands looked cold,” he says simply, his tone light, like this is the most natural thing in the world.
his fingers shift slightly, brushing against yours, and though his expression stays neutral, you catch the subtle curve of his mouth—the smug kind he tries to hide but never quite manages.
you roll your eyes, more out of habit than anything else, and let out a sigh...
but you don’t pull away.
“i have gloves.”
“they're ugly."
you glare at him.
"... and you have me."
the air stills.
“what?” he asks, his shoulder bumping yours as he starts walking, steering you toward the first row of stalls.
“nothing.”
but the corner of your mouth twitches. you try to hold back your smile.
he catches it, of course. 
his grin widens, soft and slow.
jungkook nudges you again, this time with more intention. you can feel the warmth of his hand through the fabric, steady and sure, even as the cold night air bites at your skin.
you can't help but give in. a laugh escapes your lips as you nudge him back. jungkook laughs too, but pulls you close at the very last second.
he breathes you in.
the first stall serves fresh tteokbokki, steaming and spicy. the scent alone makes your stomach growl, but jungkook is already a step ahead, paying for the food before you can reach for your wallet.
“you didn’t have to do that,” you say, trying to grab a pair of chopsticks from the tray.
he beats you to it, of course, picking up a piece of tteokbokki with the kind of exaggerated precision that makes you squint at him. then, he places the chopsticks in between your fingers.
“feed me," he says.
“absolutely not."
he steps closer. 
“okay, fine. i’ll feed you—”
you shove the tteok in his mouth. 
he chews, chuckling and enjoying your choice. 
“you’re so annoying,” you tell him as he swallows.
“really? am i?”
“really. you are."
jungkook shrugs. 
then, he takes the chopsticks and picks up a tteok, and feeds you. he watches closely as you chew, his wide eyes fixed on your face in a way that makes you feel exposed.
“how annoying?”
in between chews, you fixate on his smirk. as he leans into level with you, you almost choke at how his nose nearly brushed yours. you can feel the weight of his gaze, daring you to say something.
“jungkook…” you warn, your voice flat, but your hands betray you. they reach up to cup his cheeks, and though your intention is to shove him back, you don’t.
instead, your thumbs press lightly against the soft skin of his jaw as you squint at him.
“what’s this smile?” you ask, narrowing your eyes. “what are you so excited over, bestie?”
his expression flickers for a second, his brows twitching in annoyance at the word. you know he hates it when you call him that. bestie? who are you even talking to?
“your lips look cold. can i warm them up for you?” he asks suddenly, his voice dropping low enough to send shivers down your spine.
you scoff, warmth creeping up your neck. “nice try—”
“no, no, i insist,” he interrupts, tilting his head slightly, pretending to think it over. “don't want you to be all cold and shit.”
“jungkook.” your tone is sharp, but it’s laced with amusement, and he knows it.
“what?” he murmurs, leaning in closer, his lips curving into a smirk. “you said you want to take things slow. i’ll kiss you real slow—”
your jaw drops. 
“you’re impossible.”
he stands back up with a grin, his hands still in the pocket of his hoodie, keeping yours snugly tucked inside. he rocks back on his heels, clearly pleased with himself. 
“let’s not pretend we don’t know what we know.”
“i don’t know much,” you retort, but the small smile tugging at your lips betrays you. “i’m not a nerd—”
“yah! hurry up!” taehyung’s voice booms from a stall across the street, breaking the moment. you glance over to find him waving dramatically, his other arm slung around yoongi, who looks less than thrilled. 
“we found the mandu!” taehyung adds.
“mandu sounds good,” jungkook says as he gives your hands a small squeeze. then, he gently pulls you toward the others. "let's go." 
“stop dragging me around,” you complain, though you don’t actually try to pull away.
“you’re walking too slow.”
but you aren’t. 
you know you aren’t and so does he… but you let him hold your hand anyway.
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a week later, jungkook feels like he might piss himself.
he leans against the edge of his desk, scrolling through his phone for the 5th time in as many minutes. his thumb hovers over the screen, debating whether to check his messages again, even though he knows there’s no point. 
you haven’t replied yet.
the fundraiser for marine conservation is tonight, and he’s been pretending it’s no big deal... but fuck.
he was so nervous when he asked you to go with him and now he feels like all his efforts are being wasted.
...
“so, uh,” he starts, his voice a little too casual, “there’s this fundraiser gala thing on friday night. save the dolphins thing—a-and… it’s no big deal but—”
you glance at him, eyebrows raised. 
“yeah? sounds fancy.”
he shrugs, keeping his eyes fixed on the road ahead. “i guess it is. it’s a black-tie kind of event… and i, uh… i was thinking... maybe you’d want to come with me?”
you blink, caught off guard by the sudden invite. 
“i hate dolphins.”
“i know.”
you sigh, pretending to be burdened by his request. “but i’ll go. if you want me to.”
“i do want you to.”
“okay.”
“good,” he breathes, glancing over with a lopsided grin that he hopes hides how nervous he actually feels. “you’ll make me look good. people are suckers for pretty dates.”
“oh, so you’re using me as a prop?” you tease, though your lips twitch into a smirk.
“obviously,” he replies smoothly, though his grip on the wheel tightens slightly. “but, hey, it’s a dinner, you get to see my in a tux which is practically dessert—.”
you shake your head, laughing softly. 
“you’re ridiculous.”
“so ridiculous that this can count as our first date?” he presses, glancing over again, this time with a flicker of uncertainty he hopes you don’t catch.
after a beat, you sigh dramatically, turning in your seat to face him. 
“it’s a date.”
just as he’s about to make another comment, you lean over and press a quick kiss to his cheek, catching him completely off guard. his hands freeze on the wheel for half a second before he recovers.
“you missed—”
you laugh and hit his chest. then, he gets out of the car, helps you out, and walks you to your doorstep. 
...
now, as he sits alone in his room, the anticipation bubbling just under his skin, his phone buzzes on the counter. his heart skips for a moment before he grabs it, only to feel it sink as he reads your message.
yn [4:31PM]: nurse said it’s food poisoning  yn [4:32PM]: she gave me some meds to help but i literally feel like shit  yn [4:33PM]: i don’t think i’ll be able to make it tonight, baby :( i’m so sorry nerd [4:34PM]: don’t apologize. i’ll be over in a bit yn [4:35PM]: what ?? no !! get ready for your event. it’s important nerd [4:35PM]: so are u yn [4:36PM]: i’ll survive. go save the dolphins :p
his brows knit together as he reads it again, leaning back into the couch with a frustrated sigh.
he knows he shouldn’t feel disappointed—you can’t control being sick, and it’s not like this event means anything special. 
at least, that’s what he’s been telling himself.
still, he stares at the message for a long moment, debating whether to reply right away or wait a few minutes so he doesn’t seem too eager. his fingers hover over the keyboard before he finally types out a response, keeping it short and light, like he’s unbothered.
nerd [4:40PM]: get some rest. i’ll be telling everyone you ditched me tho  yn [4:41PM]: be sure to let the dolphins know too 🙂
he lets out a chuckle, but the weight in his chest doesn’t go away. 
he tosses his phone onto the coffee table and rakes a hand through his hair, wondering why the idea of showing up without you feels so much worse than he’d expected.
then, his phone buzzes with messages from the fundraiser committee. 
yet, he can only think of you… it’s a sinking feeling in his chest. 
you’re sick. 
the thought of going to that event while you’re home feeling miserable doesn’t sit right with him.
he sighs, grabbing his hoodie and pulling it over his head. he knows this is unprofessional and such an pussy excuse but—forget the event. 
it’s you that matters to him the most right now. 
so, jungkook calls his event and lets them know that something came up. he tosses aside his tux and puts on comfier clothes before heading to the kitchen to make you some chicken noodle soup.
before he heads out, jungkook hears a familiar groan from the living room. he turns, already annoyed, knowing exactly who it is.
jimin and taehyung are stretched out on the couch, looking like they’ve been hit by a truck. 
their faces are pale, eyes glassy with fever, and they groan as they shift under the blanket. it’s obvious they’re just as sick as you, if not worse.
“yo, jungkook,” taehyung calls out, voice nasally, “did you make soup? be a good boy and give us some—” 
jimin, equally pitiful, sits up a little and gives jungkook a pleading look. “yeah, we’re starving, man. plus, you’re not gonna leave us to die alone, right?”
jungkook raises an eyebrow, crossing his arms over his chest. 
“you won’t die from starvation.”
“how are you so sure?”
“cos i’ll kill you first,” jungkook snorts. “you guys got my girl sick with that stupid omelet you made her.”
the two of them groan in response, sitting up slowly. taehyung rubs his face with his hand. “we didn’t mean to! bro, look at us. you think we wanted this? we’re sick, too, you know.”
“yeah,” jimin adds, “there’s two friends sick here for you to take care of.”
jungkook just looks at them, his gaze hard. 
“who do you think i’m gonna choose right now?”
jimin squints, looking him up and down. “don’t you have that gala tonight?”
jungkook hesitates for a split second, but quickly shakes his head, giving them a dismissive wave. 
“it got canceled.” he lies. 
then, he turns away to head out the door. before he leaves he yells; “i’ll text yoongi hyung to make you some soup. don’t bother me. not coming home tonight.”
about 25 minutes later, jungkook stands in front of your doorway and his gaze falls on you as you open the door.
you're wearing his oversized t-shirt, hair up in a messy bun, and a pair of shorts—looking exhausted and a little pale. his stomach churns with worry, but he keeps his cool as always.
"what are you doing here? the gala..." you trail off, but before he can answer, you quickly turn and rush to the bathroom.
"shit," he mutters under his breath, following you at a steady pace.
when he enters the bathroom, you're already kneeling over the toilet, retching. his heart drops, but he doesn’t flinch. moving to your side, he gently pats your back.
“it was this bad?” he grumbles, a frown pulling at his lips. “why were you downplaying it through text?”
you wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, barely acknowledging him.
“i’m fine, seriously. just... just a little nausea.”
“fuck, ___..” he snaps, but his voice isn’t angry, more like exasperated. "this is stupid. you can’t be alone if you can’t even handle standing up to get the door without throwing up. are you fucking serious?." his eyes are narrowing now, the concern clear despite his snappy tone. “what the hell, ___?"
you sit back on the floor, leaning against the wall, your face pale. 
“i already bailed on the date. i couldn’t let you bail on the gala entirely.”
he shoots you a look, incredulous. 
“you think I’d rather be at a gala without you? honestly?”
“i just—"
“shut up,” he interrupts, his voice softer but firm. "you need someone. i’m here. deal with it."
there’s no room for argument in his voice.
you give him a tired smile despite the situation, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. 
“you shouldn’t be here, though.”
“say that again.”
your lips tighten.
then, you gag and rush back to the toilet bowl. jungkook remains by your side, rubbing your back as you deal with another wave of nausea.
the moment is quiet except for the soft sounds of you breathing in between. for a second, it almost feels like everything has stopped, like it’s just the two of you in your small bathroom, nothing else in the world mattering.
after 40 minutes of hovering over the toilet, jungkook gets you settled on the couch.
he brings you water and asks if you’re down for some food. he brought over chicken noodle soup and you need to have something in your stomach before taking your medicine. you simply agree and wait for him to serve you. 
as you eat the soup, he scrolls through netflix and plays something. he talks for most of it and it helps distract you from feeling the full extent of your sickness. after you’ve eaten some of the soup he brought, you ask him to grab the medicine from your bag. 
“can you grab the other medicine bottle from my bag? the one the nurse gave me?”
jungkook, of course, doesn’t hesitate. 
he gets up and finds your bag in your bedroom. he pulls open your bag and begins rummaging through it, looking for the bottle. when his hand brushes against something thick and solid, he pulls out a book titled, “everything you need to know about dolphins a to z.”
his eyebrows furrow for a second as he stares down at it.
he doesn’t know why, but a strange warmth spreads through him. it’s pretty obvious why you have this book—but seeing it in your bag... it makes him pause.
his lips tighten slightly as he puts the book back down in your bag, quickly hiding his reaction. he doesn’t want you to see how much it’s affecting him right now.
when he returns with the medicine, his expression’s back to its usual, nonchalant self. as much as jungkook wants to pretend like he didn’t see it or that seeing it didn’t matter—he can’t. 
to him, it mattered. 
it mattered a lot.
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a few days later, you’re sitting across from jungkook in the library. 
the late afternoon sun streaming through the tall windows and casting a golden glow over the table. textbooks and notebooks are scattered between you, his handwriting messier than yours but still oddly charming. you’re mid-sentence, asking him about his opinion on a the newest theory you learned during your lecture when he suddenly tugs off his crewneck, revealing the black t-shirt clinging to his frame underneath.
it’s warm in the library, the kind of cozy heat that sneaks up on you, and he doesn’t think twice about it. 
but you do.
“woah—” you blurt out, your question forgotten as your gaze catches on his arms. you've seen his tattoos before but for some reason... they look different to you now.
they appeal different to you.
jungkook looks up from his notes, brows raised.
“what?”
you blink, trying to refocus, but your eyes betray you, flickering back to the ink winding its way down his arm. 
“your tattoos,” you say, almost dazed. “they’re... really hot.”
“think so?”
“yeah,” you admit. “gets me horny. ”
you then feel the warmth crawl up your neck as the words leave your mouth. you quickly look back down at your notes, hoping the earth might just swallow you whole.
jungkook freezes for a moment, the tips of his ears turning the faintest shade of pink. then he shakes his head, a small, lopsided smile tugging at his lips. it’s not his usual confident grin—it’s softer, like he’s caught off guard but not in a bad way.
he doesn’t say anything, just ducks his head slightly, the corners of his mouth twitching like he’s trying to hold back a laugh.
you try to ignore the way he shifts in his seat, casually stretching his arms behind his head like he’s showing off—not that he’d ever admit it...
for the next two weeks, jungkook suddenly seems allergic to long sleeves. 
he starts showing up in short-sleeved t-shirts, rolling his sleeves higher than necessary when he wears his uniform jacket, and leaning in just a little closer when he knows your gaze will drift.
“you’re shameless,” you mumble one day, catching him flexing—not subtly—while reaching for a book on the top shelf.
“what?” he asks innocently, glancing down at you with those wide eyes that don’t match the smirk tugging at his lips.
you roll your eyes, biting back a grin.
“you’re annoying.”
“why? are you horny?” he says, his voice low enough to make you want to shove him.
you don’t answer, but the way you avoid his gaze—and the small smile tugging at your lips—says enough. he notices, of course, because he always does.
after a few moments of silence, you huff at him.
"is everything you say always so... dirty?"
he shrugs.
"you brought up being horny first..."
"yeah, but—"
"you think i'm dirty?" jungkook interrupts you. "should i shower?"
you scoff at him. before you can say anything, he adds;
"you’d join me though, right?"
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a month later, jungkook does it again. 
you find yourself standing in the middle of your apartment—he shows up.
your phone is clutched tightly in your hand as you try to blink away the tears threatening to spill. the call you just had—a frustrating, heart-wrenching argument with your family—leaves you feeling raw and small. the weight of their words presses heavily on your chest, and all you can do is stare blankly at the mess of papers scattered on your desk.
a sharp knock on your door pulls you out of your thoughts. you freeze, wiping at your cheeks hastily, but the door creaks open before you can say anything.
"is that my hoodie?"
"jungkook—"
“you haven't been answering my texts all day,” jungkook says, stepping in without waiting for an invitation. he’s holding a bag of takeout.
"everything okay?"
“i’m fine,” you say, your voice shaky despite your best efforts to sound convincing.
he narrows his eyes at you, placing the takeout and hoodie on your coffee table before crossing his arms.
“yeah, no.”
you try to argue, but he’s already moving, shrugging off his jacket and plopping onto the couch like he owns the place.
“whatever it is, you don’t have to talk about it right now,” he says, pulling out containers of food. “but you do have to eat. and i’m not leaving until you do.”
your throat tightens at his matter-of-fact tone, his presence somehow both comforting and overwhelming. he doesn’t pry, doesn’t demand to know what happened.
“you didn’t have to come,” you murmur, sinking onto the couch beside him.
“yeah, i did,” he replies, handing you a pair of chopsticks. “and don’t even think about pretending you’re not hungry.”
a small, shaky laugh escapes you, the tension in your chest loosening just a little.
“you’re so annoying.”
“friends are supposed to annoy each other. learned that shit from you.”
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jungkook’s door swings open with a suddenness that startles him. 
the faint squeak of the hinges cuts through the quiet. he’s mid-motion, towel slung around his neck, tugging a loose white shirt over his head when you stroll in without so much as a knock. he’s also wearing grey sweatpants… 
wet hair, white shirt, and grey sweats? 
the holy trinity.
“you know,” he begins to scold you. “boundaries exist for a reason.”
he shakes his damp hair as you plop onto his bed like it’s yours.
“boundaries?” you scoff, grabbing your plushie. your precious hello kitty plushie. “this is practically my second home.”
he doesn’t argue, just lets out a quiet chuckle as he pulls the hem of his shirt down. 
holding up the plushie like it’s the most precious thing you’ve ever seen. “can i take her home today?”
“sure,” jungkook says, his voice carrying that infuriating mix of teasing confidence and barely veiled challenge. he leans against his desk, arms crossed, watching with a smirk as you clutch the hello kitty plushie tightly to your chest, as if it’s your only lifeline against his charm. 
“can i be your boyfriend today?”
you groan, throwing yourself back onto his bed with a dramatic sigh, the plushie landing on your face. 
“seriously? you’re really holding this poor plushie hostage?”
he laughs, low and amused, pushing off the desk and taking a few steps closer. 
“a deal’s a deal,” he says lightly, but there’s a glint in his eyes as he towers over you. “you can take her home—when you’re my girl.”
you yank the plushie off your face, sitting up sharply. 
“do you think we’re better friends?” you huff, your tone indignant but your heart racing under the weight of his gaze. 
jungkook crouches slightly, leaning in until his face is just a few inches from yours. his smirk softens into something more playful, but the shift in proximity makes your stomach flip. 
“i think so…” he murmurs, his eyes flickering between your face and the plushie pressed against your chest. “aside from me trying to kiss you every chance i get and you being horny every time you see my tattoos—”
you narrow your eyes at him, holding the plushie tighter, as if it’s a shield against the way he’s looking at you. 
“you’re unbelievable.”
“and yet,” he starts, his voice dropping an octave as he moves even closer, one hand bracing on the bed beside your knee, the other reaching out to gently brush his fingers over the plushie’s soft fabric. “here you are.”
his free hand slides around your waist, tugging you just slightly toward him, and your breath hitches. “but if you don’t want her…” he teases, his voice trailing off as his face inches closer to yours. his gaze dips briefly to your lips, and before you can fully process it, he’s leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek.
except you shove hello kitty between you two just in time.
“nope!” you say quickly, holding the plushie up like a barrier, your cheeks flaming as you hear him laugh, the sound vibrating through the air between you.
“seriously?” he says, pulling back just enough to raise an eyebrow, though his grin never falters. his hand stays firm at your waist, his thumb brushing the fabric of your shirt in slow, lazy circles. “you’re really using her to block me?”
“you started it,” you shoot back, glaring at him even as your grip on the plushie tightens.
“fair,” he admits with a chuckle, straightening up slightly but keeping his hold on you. his other hand moves to tap the plushie’s head. “but the deal still stands. not my girlfriend, not your hello kitty.”
“you’re ridiculous.”
he tilts his head, his grin softening, though his hand still lingers at your waist, his warmth impossible to ignore. 
“i don’t know,” he says, his voice quieter now, almost coaxing. “sounds like a pretty good deal to me.”
you glare at him again, this time with less heat, and shove the plushie into his chest.
“you’re insufferable.”
he laughs, taking the plushie from your hands but not letting you go.
“maybe,” he says, “but you’re still here.”
hours later, the room is quiet except for the soft scratch of jungkook’s pen against paper and the occasional shuffle of his chair as he shifts at his desk. you’re curled up on his bed, the hello kitty plushie still clutched against your chest, your breaths slow and steady as sleep overtakes you.
he glances back at you every now and then, a small, unspoken fondness softening his features. when you stir, rubbing your eyes and sitting up, he turns back to his notes, feigning nonchalance.
you pad over to him, your steps muffled against the carpet. without a word, you slip onto his lap, one arm draping lazily over his shoulders as you pluck his glasses from his face.
“good nap?” he asks, his voice a mix of amusement and exasperation as you slide the frames onto your own nose. “those—”
squinting dramatically, you nag him; “ugh, how do you even function with these? everything’s blurry.”
“that’s because they’re prescription, genius,” he says, reaching for them, but you lean back, keeping them out of his reach.
“maybe i’ll keep these,” you tease, poking at the side of his head. “you can’t study without them, can you?”
“give them back, or i’m kicking you off my lap,” he warns, though his hands settle firmly on your waist instead of following through on his threat.
“yeah, sure... because you hate this so much.”
“try me,” he challenges, his grip tightening just slightly as if to prove his point.
“you’re so bossy,” you grumble, sliding the glasses off and placing them haphazardly on his desk. “happy now?”
“ecstatic,” he says dryly, though his lips twitch upward.
you lean closer, your face just inches from his, your playful smirk softening into something quieter, more genuine. 
“you know, you’re really cute when you’re all serious, studious, and grumpy.”
“and you’re kind of annoying when you don’t let me finish studying,” he shoots back, though there’s no real bite to his words.
“fine, fine,” you say, preparing to climb off his lap with exaggerated dramatics. “go be a nerd. i’ll be over there cuddling hello kitty—”
“i could use a 5 minute break.”
you fix your posture, perking up. 
“really?” you tilt your head at him. “i mean… i’d hate to distract you.”
“really?” he mocks you. “you’re sitting on my lap and moving your hips and yet—you’d hate to distract me, huh?”
you nod innocently. then, you shrug and confess;
“i’m bored.”
“what do you want me to do about that? this final is really important—f-fuck. ___, don’t move like that.”
you shift again. 
“like what?”
“you know what you’re—”
“what am i doing?” you ask, leaning your body closer to his. you caress his face and pout at him. “is 5 minutes even considered a break? don’t you need more time?”
“more time for what?” jungkook lowers his gaze at you. 
“i don’t know,” you giggle. “what do you wanna do?”
jungkook can’t take it. 
playing cat and dog or whatever this bullshit is. 
you’re on top of him, prettier than ever. you’re wearing a low-cut tank top with a fucking bow in the middle… and he can’t breathe anything in except you. what is he supposed to do right now? 
“___… if you don’t get off me—”
“if i don’t get off you… what?”
you smile at him softly. shifting again, you drag your hips towards him. his eyes widen. 
“i might cum.”
you pout. “really?”
jungkook swallows. 
“keep moving your hips like that and you’ll find out soon.”
“oh…”
a beat. 
“like this?”
before he knows it, you’re humping him. 
he grunts as he feels himself harden under you. you bite your bottom lip as you drag your hips back and forth. you feel the pressure against your clit as your clothes rub together. 
jungkook hisses at your pace. 
“f-fuck..”
as he bucks his lips, he places his hands on your waist, helping your movement. you let out a few breathy moans and jungkook feels like he could die. 
you’re so pretty. 
his hands tighten around you when he senses that you’re close. 
“am i doing this right? it feels—feels g-good.”
“yeah? feels good, baby?” jungkook breathes.
“mhmm…”
“do you feel my dick?” he asks. “feel how hard it is against your fucking pussy?”
“i do,” you moan. “so big, jungkook. can i take it soon?”
he hisses. 
“promise me,” you whine. “promise me that you’ll fuck me soon.”
jungkook’s breath hitches. 
he was wrong. 
that time he ran his mouth about your virginity being too much or a burden or something—fuck was he wrong. 
it’s not a burden.
it’s the greatest privilege he could ever be given… now to have you like this? begging like that? holy shit is he more than ready to give you anything and everything you want. 
“promise, baby,” he says. “promise it’s gonna be me.”
you nod, happy with his answer. 
and just as you’re about to continue, you take his hands to your tits. first, he squeezes them… then you guide them to the strap of your tank top. taking the cue, jungkook tugs your straps down, revealing your bare tits. 
“___…” he moans. “shit.”
you bring his hands to your tits again, helping him cup them. as you hump him with more intensity, jungkook’s mouth parts. your tits bouncee up and down and it sends shivers down his spine. your tits are so full in his hands and so fucking perfect up close. he lvoes all of it—the shape, the size, the way it feels… so soft. he’s always been an ass type of guy but holy shit—your tits are a game changer for him. 
nevertheless, he tries to focuses on you. 
“bouncy.”
“yeah?” you pant. “you like them?”
jungkook nods pathetically. 
he fights shutting his eyes. he wants to remember all of this. every detail. 
how hard he is right now. how hard your nipples are and how they feel being played in between his fingers. he runs his thumb around them, pressing, squeezing, and tugging… he loves how your moans sound—like they’re music to his ears… he can’t… he can’t picture anything else. he can’t hear anything else. he can’t breathe anything in but you.
“jungkook…” you cry, feeling yourself about to climax.
“s-shit,” he hisses as you begin to whimper. 
the humping is great. 
amazing in fact—but the way you’re whimpering right now? 
fuck.
“jungkook,” you breathe, trying to catch your breath. “a-are you close? mhmmm… f-fuck!” 
you hump him faster and harder. he lets out a few moans before sharply inhaling—
“o-ohh,” jungkook moans. “nghhhh… fuck.”
you grind on him slowly, easing his release. his crotch area is wet, making an obvious stain on his grey sweatpants.
he throws his head back. you lean over and kiss his neck. he bites his lip, attempting to hide his smile. 
a silence fills the room. 
you two are in total disbelief. 
then, you shift and he places his hands on your waist again. 
“did you cum?” 
he lets out a chuckle. “yeah. did you?”
“i think so? i don’t know.”
“sorry,” he sighs, a little disappointed you didn’t get to finish. “do you wanna—”
“it’s fine that i didn’t come. i had fun…”
jungkook shakes his head. “no, it’s okay. i can—”
“can i see?”
jungkook blinks at you. 
“what?”
“you came right?”
“yeah—”
“can i see what your cum looks like?”
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some days with jungkook are so easy, it’s almost laughable.
the dynamic feels less like a friendship and more like a game you’re both playing—teasing, flirting, seeing how far you can push before one of you finally gives in.
but then there are days like this.
it’s been two months since the kiss, and the comfort between you has grown in a way that makes everything feel light, almost effortless. you’re more yourself around him, and he’s let down his walls in ways you didn’t even realize were there. 
still, sometimes, you push his buttons just a little too hard.
today is one of those days.
it starts with a series of texts.
your usual banter that, for whatever reason, strikes a nerve.
maybe he’s stressed, or maybe you’re just too good at knowing exactly how to get under his skin. either way, it doesn’t take long before his responses turn clipped, each word laced with an irritation you’re not used to seeing from him.
yn [1:41PM]: C₄₃H₆₆N₁₂O₁₂S₂ nerd [1:48PM]: 😳 yn [1:50PM]: am i speaking ur language  nerd [1:53PM]: fluently, yes yn [1:54PM]: cool. dohwan taught me it  yn [1:55PM]: what does it mean nerd [1:59PM]: not funny. yn [2:00PM]: why am i laughing then seen yn [2:01PM]: aw don’t get all mad nerd [2:08PM]: not mad. jus uninterested in this topic. yn [2:10PM]: i’m sorry seen yn [2:14PM]: sorry :(  yn [2:15PM]: jungkook !!! yn [2:16PM]: wanna make out? typing… nerd [2:21PM]: yes
you don’t mean for it to escalate, but by the time you realize he’s genuinely annoyed, it’s too late to fix it over text. you bite your lip, staring at your phone, debating your next move.
and then, because you’re you, you grab your bag and head straight for his lab.
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jungkook’s reputation precedes him on campus.
professors practically gloat about having him in their classes, like his achievements are trophies they get to display. it isn’t just his grades or his research—it’s the way he carries himself. sure, he's a little antisocial but he's focused, driven, and somehow still effortlessly cool.
you always knew he was smart, but seeing him in his element, tucked away in the chemistry lab during his solo hours, is something else entirely.
the lab is a world of its own.
notes scrawled in sharp, precise handwriting cover the workspace, surrounded by neatly labeled vials, bubbling solutions, and meticulous arrangements of equipment.
jungkook stands at the center of it all, wearing a crisp lab coat with the sleeves rolled up just enough to reveal the ink decorating his forearms. protective goggles perch on his nose, and his brows furrow as he scribbles something into a notebook. he’s intimidatingly focused, and for a moment, you hesitate in the doorway.
he notices the movement immediately, his sharp eyes snapping up to meet yours. for a beat, his expression doesn’t change, and your stomach churns with nerves under his scrutinizing gaze.
“what are you doing here?”
“i, uh…” you shift awkwardly, trying to find your footing under his intense stare. “i wanted to check on you. you seemed upset earlier.”
jungkook exhales, a hand dragging through his dark hair, slightly disheveling the strands sticking out under the goggles. his posture stiffens slightly before he stands straighter, folding his arms across his chest. 
“i’m fine,” he says, the words clipped and automatic, like he’s said them a hundred times before.
he doesn’t look at you again after that, instead turning back to the dense notebook in front of him. his pen taps against the edge of the table, a sharp, rhythmic sound that fills the silence between you.
you glance around, taking in the scrawled notes and bubbling glassware, and suddenly, you feel like an intruder.
this isn’t just a workspace; it’s his domain, and you’re a trespasser.
“right,” you whisper. “sorry. i just—”
your words catch as his head snaps up again, this time really looking at you. his dark eyes flick to the way you stand there, hands shoved deep into your jacket pockets, shoulders hunched slightly, and chewing the inside of your cheek.
the tension in his jaw softens, and he exhales again, but this time, it’s quieter, almost resigned. his shoulders relax as he sets the pen down, giving you his full attention now.
“do you want a tour?” he asks, his voice losing some of its earlier sharpness.
you blink at him, caught off guard. 
“really?”
he shrugs, a small, almost reluctant smirk tugging at the corners of his lips.
“yeah. just… don’t touch anything.”
you hesitate, unsure if this is a genuine offer or just him humoring you. but the way his gaze lingers—softer now, like he’s extending an olive branch—makes you take a small step forward.
“you’re sure?” you ask cautiously, your weight shifting between your feet.
“wouldn’t have offered if i wasn’t,” he says, already turning to gather a few items from the cluttered table.
his words are casual, but there’s something unspoken in the way he says them. it’s as if he’s acknowledging your effort without outright saying it, inviting you into a space you know he doesn’t share lightly.
“okay,” you say softly, stepping closer as he gestures to the setup in front of him.
jungkook guides you through the lab, his hand casually finding its way to the small of your back as he gestures to the next setup. the touch is subtle but grounding, the heat of his palm against your waist sending a quick flutter of awareness through you. his fingers rest there, steady, as he moves you along with a quiet confidence, his focus more on the equipment than the way your heart picks up its pace.
“this is my catalytic synthesis project,” he starts, motioning to the crowded workspace. his tone is calmer now, almost instructional as if falling into the rhythm of explaining makes it easier to let his guard down.
as he starts detailing his work, his body language shifts. his shoulders loosen, and the furrow in his brow disappears as he picks up a flask of pale yellow liquid. his hand moves with precise confidence, holding it up to the light as if to showcase his work.
“what does that even mean?” you ask, leaning in closer to inspect the array of equipment.
“it’s about creating biodiesel,” he explains, holding up a sheet of paper covered in equations and diagrams. “basically, i’m optimizing the reaction process to make it more efficient. fewer byproducts, higher yield.”
you blink, squinting at the equations like they might magically make sense. 
“that’s cool… i think. but how do you even do that?”
he chuckles, the sound low and surprisingly soft. 
“this,” he says, holding the flask again. “this is the feedstock. it’s like the base oil we start with. i mix it with methanol and a catalyst—”
“wait,” you interrupt, raising a hand. “what’s a catalyst?”
his lips twitch into a small grin, clearly amused by your cluelessness. 
“a catalyst is a substance that speeds up a chemical reaction without being consumed in the process.”
you nod as if you understand, but the tilt of your head gives you away.
jungkook sets the flask down and leans a hip against the table, crossing his arms loosely. “okay, think of it like this. imagine you’re cooking something. the catalyst is like the pan—it doesn’t get eaten, but it helps everything cook faster.”
“ohhh,” you say, the metaphor finally clicking. “why didn’t you just say that from the start?”
he raises an eyebrow, biting back a grin. “because i thought you were smart enough to keep up.”
“wow,” you deadpan, crossing your arms. “i come here to check on you, and this is the thanks i get?”
he shakes his head, a quiet laugh escaping him as he nudges your shoulder lightly with his. “first of all, you annoyed me. second of all, you’re the one who wanted a tour. i’m just giving you the full experience.”
“oh, sorry—” you let out a shallow laugh. “should i leave then—”
jungkook shakes his head and points to another setup—a small beaker bubbling over a hot plate. 
“look! this is the reaction in progress. that bubbling? that’s the methanol reacting with the oil. and over there,” he gestures to a series of tubes and a larger flask, “that’s where i separate the biodiesel from the glycerol. basically, the good stuff from the leftovers.”
you narrow your eyes at the apparatus. “this still sounds like you’re making moonshine.”
jungkook snorts, shaking his head. “i’m not making moonshine.”
“sure,” you mutter, your lips curving into a teasing smile. “that’s what someone making moonshine would say.”
he rolls his eyes, but the faint smile pulling at his lips betrays him. 
“you’re really annoying today.”
“you like me, though,” you shoot back, leaning against the table with newfound confidence.
jungkook pauses, his gaze lingering on you for just a moment too long. his lips part, and you catch a flicker of something in his expression—something softer, almost vulnerable.
“yeah,” he says quietly, almost under his breath, before turning back to his work. “i guess i do.”
as you lean over a neighboring table to inspect a beaker filled with an ominous-looking solution, your elbow bumps against it, sending it teetering dangerously close to the edge. the moment stretches out, everything moving in slow motion.
his words catch you off guard.
what did he just say?
holy—
“shit!” you yelp, reaching out instinctively to steady it. but before you can, the beaker tips over completely, the sulfuric acid inside spilling onto the floor—and dangerously close to your feet.
jungkook moves faster than you expect, his hand darting out to grab your arm as he yanks you backward with enough force to make you stumble into his chest. the acid splashes onto his hand as it hits the ground, and the sharp crack of shattering glass fills the room.
he flinches, a quiet hiss slipping through his teeth as he pulls his hand back.
“oh my god, jungkook!” you gasp, panic knotting your stomach. his hand lingers briefly on your arm before he steps away, already moving toward the nearest sink.
“stay there,” he orders, his voice clipped but steady, as he flips on the cold water and thrusts his hand under the stream.
your eyes are locked on his injured hand, where faint discoloration is already starting to show.
“are you okay? does it hurt?” you ask, your voice shaky.
“it’s fine,” he says tightly, jaw clenched as the water rushes over his skin. “are you okay? nothing got on you, right?”
you take a step closer, your gaze flicking between his face and his hand. he looks calm—too calm—but the way his lips press into a thin line tells you otherwise.
“no. nothing got on me… jungkook,” you say softly, guilt and worry twisting in your chest. “i’m so sorry. i didn’t mean to—”
“don’t,” he cuts you off, shaking his head as he grabs a paper towel to dry his hand. his voice isn’t harsh, but there’s an edge to it, like he’s holding something back. “this is why i don’t give tours.”
you wince, the weight of his words making you shrink slightly. “i—i’ll make it up to you,” you blurt, your voice desperate to fix this. “whatever you want.”
he glances at you then, finally letting out a soft, exasperated laugh. his expression softens, the corners of his lips twitching into a faint smirk. 
“you’re giving me that much power?”
“jungkook,” you warn, narrowing your eyes, but your voice wavers. you’re still too focused on his hand, your own tightening into fists at your sides. “this is serious. do you want to go to nurse or hospital or something—”
“relax baby,” he says, his tone lighter now as he flexes his fingers experimentally. “it’s not that bad. really. it was just sulfuric acid.”
“acid—”
“stop,” jungkook sighs. “seriously. it’s okay.”
“you shouldn’t have done that though,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. 
he shakes his head, smiling faintly—half amused, half surprised by your concern. 
“what, and let you burn yourself instead?”
a beat.
"i'm dating a klutz," he chuckles, the words slipping out so naturally it takes you both a second to realize what he’s just said. his eyes widen slightly, but instead of backpedaling, "guess i should get used to you fucking my shit up, right?"
your chest tightens.
dating?
jungkook clears his throat. 
“don't over think it," jungkook grumbles.
"jungkook—"
he doesn’t let you finish, his jaw tightening.
“___, what are you doing here if you don’t think we’re dating?”
“what does that even mean?” you fire back, crossing your arms defensively. “you can’t just say shit like that and expect me not to overthink it.”
“then maybe don’t think so much,” he mutters under his breath. "you're good at that anyway."
“don’t think?!” you huff incredulously, stepping closer. “jungkook, you’re impossible.”
he glares at you, setting down the equipment with a loud clink. “and you’re confusing. one second, we’re fine, and the next, you’re acting like—”
“acting like what?”
“like you don’t want this.”
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the tension doesn’t ease as you both leave the lab. 
he grabs his bag, muttering something about not wanting to talk here, and before you can argue, he’s already halfway down the corridor. you jog to keep up with his long strides, half-annoyed, half-confused, as he leads you across campus.
the walk is silent, save for the occasional rustle of leaves or the faint chatter of students in the distance. his jaw is tight, his shoulders stiff, and you can tell he’s barely holding himself together.
“jungkook...” you try, your voice softer this time, but he doesn’t respond, doesn’t even glance back.
by the time you reach his place, your confusion has morphed into frustration. 
he unlocks the door without a word, stepping inside and leaving it open for you to follow.
you hesitate for a moment, then step in, the familiar scent of his space wrapping around you. before you can say anything, he drops his bag on the floor and turns to you, his expression unreadable.
“sit,” he orders, pointing to his bed.
your brows knit together.
“i’m not a dog,” you snap, but the weight in his tone makes you obey anyway. you sit at the edge of his bed, crossing your arms and glaring up at him.
he exhales sharply, running a hand through his already messy hair. his pacing starts then, a restless back-and-forth motion across the small room. the air feels heavy, thick with unspoken words and the lingering tension from earlier.
“okay,” he starts, his voice low and strained. “let’s just… get this out in the open.”
you raise a brow, waiting for him to elaborate, but he doesn’t. instead, he keeps pacing, his hand dragging down his face as if he’s trying to physically pull the words out of himself.
“get what out in the open?” you prod, your frustration bubbling to the surface. “jungkook, what’s your deal? one second you’re fine, and the next—”
“fine?” he cuts you off, his tone sharper now. he stops pacing to face you, his hands planted on his hips. “you think i’m fine?”
you blink, taken aback.
“well, no, obviously not. but you’re also not making any sense—”
“you want to talk about making sense?” he scoffs, a bitter laugh escaping him. “you’re the one who’s impossible, you know that? one minute you’re here, acting like we’re—like this is something, and the next you’re…”
“the next i’m what?” you challenge, standing now. “go ahead, say it.”
jungkook looks at your sternly. then, he gives you his heart.
“i can’t keep doing this, ___. i need to know—are you in or are you out? because i get the whole wanting to make me miserable part. i get it. i’ve been awful to you. i’ve put words in your mouth and i���ve said shit that i can’t take back… but i’m trying. it feels like you aren’t.”
the weight of his words crashes over you, leaving you rooted in place. you want to respond, to say something, but the lump in your throat won’t budge.
he steps closer, his eyes searching yours.
“just… tell me what you want. because if you don’t want me, i need to know now.”
the silence stretches between you, thick and suffocating. you feel his gaze burning into you, his desperation palpable.
“i don’t know how to have you,” you say, your voice breaking slightly.
his shoulders drop, and for the first time since this started, he looks less angry and more… hurt.
“what do you mean?” he asks, his tone gentler now.
“i don’t know,” you breathe. “i’ve never… gone this far. guys give up after the chase… you’re… you’re still here. what happens now? sex?”
he shrugs. "is that all you want?"
"no."
"then no."
silence.
“___, i'm here. i've come this far and i want to go further. sex or not---whatever,” he says, taking another step closer, his hand reaching out to lightly brush against your arm. “is that what scares you?”
you nod.
“am i… am i supposed to just—” your chest tightens, and the room feels too small, too charged. his words hang in the air, and you know there’s no going back after this. “i don’t know—”
“why are you here, ___?”
“you asked me that already.” you retort.
“yeah, and you didn’t answer,” he shoots back.
you sigh, exasperated. “i’m here because—i don’t know… you’re my friend, okay? or whatever.”
his laugh is sharp and humorless. “friend. right.”
“what’s that supposed to mean?”
“it means i don’t want to be your friend,” he says plainly, his eyes burning into yours. “i haven’t wanted that for a while now.”
your breath catches. “jungkook—”
he steps closer, and for a moment, you think he might kiss you. but he stops just short, his voice low and rough. 
“i want you to stop pretending like there’s nothing here. i want you to stop running every time i get close.”
you open your mouth to argue, but the words catch in your throat.
“again, if you don’t want this—me—then tell me,” he continues, his voice softening. “but don’t keep showing up, acting like i don’t drive you as crazy as you drive me. don’t… please, don’t make me feel stupid.”
the room feels too small, the air too thick.
jungkook’s hand lingers on your arm, his touch grounding even as your heart races wildly. his dark eyes search yours, flickering with emotions you can’t fully decipher—hurt, hope, frustration.
“you don’t have to know everything right now,” he says softly, his voice carrying a steadiness that contrasts with the storm raging between you. “i’m not asking for perfect, ___. i’m not even asking for easy. i just…” he exhales shakily, the vulnerability in his tone cutting through your defenses. “i just need to know you’re willing to try.”
your throat tightens, his words hitting you in a place you’ve tried so hard to ignore. the thought of trying—of letting yourself fall completely, with no safety net—terrifies you. but the thought of him walking away? it’s unbearable.
“i want you,” you whisper, the fear laced in your voice so raw it feels like you’ve just exposed every guarded corner of yourself. “i want you, jungkook.”
his fingers trail down your arm, stopping just above your wrist. 
“say it again,” he says, his tone almost exasperated, but not unkind. “please?”
you bite your lip, the weight of his words pressing down on you. everything about this moment feels pivotal, like a single word could either shatter or rebuild everything between you.
“i want you, jungkook,” you admit, your voice trembling but resolute. “i… i want us.”
his expression softens, relief washing over his features like a tidal wave.
“good,” he murmurs, stepping closer, so close that his scent—clean, familiar, entirely jungkook—invades your senses. then, his hands come up, gently cradling your face as he tilts your chin up to meet his gaze.
“i… i want us too. i think it’s all i ever really wanted. to be yours…”
his thumbs stroke your cheeks, and before you can overthink it, he leans in, pressing his forehead against yours. the tension in the room shifts, softening but no less charged.
“does this mean i get to take hello kitty home today?” you whisper, your voice barely audible. 
“who said you’re going home tonight?” he says, a small, lopsided smile tugging at his lips. 
and then he kisses you.
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you and jungkook have been dating for 6 months when you suddenly say; "happy 6 months, baby! wanna have sex?"
jungkook practically jolts out of his bed and takes the plushie. he places it on his desk and turns hello kitty over to face the wall. (no, you haven't taken it home. for some reason, it suits being in jungkook's room better than yours).
you laugh as he turns back to you and says;
"good timing, ___. i'm ovulating."
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jungkook can't breathe.
… and you? you never expected it to feel this way. 
the thrill of it… the intensity—the intimacy. 
as jungkook towers over you, he pulls his shirt over his head. the minute his chest is bare, your hands find your way to roam around his body. his abs, his biceps, and down his—
“wait,” jungkook pleads, eyes hungrily looking into yours. “wanna take this slow with you. wanna do it right for you.”
you nod slowly, understanding what he means. 
the truth is; your virginity is your virginity.
there isn’t much to it aside from that the fact that it’s not taken. you were never wronged but you were also never pursued right… sure, it’s special… but it isn’t everything. 
jungkook treats it like it is though. 
you don’t mind. 
for the past 6 months, he's been really careful with how he acts around you sexually. sure, a few pussy eating moments and heated make outs have been happening... but not the full thing. actually, you've never really seen jungkook's dick yet.
he refuses to let you give him a blowjob.
said something about how easy it is for him to cum at the thought of you—he isn't ready to embarrass himself in front of you just yet.
but today, at your 6 month mark, it's different.
jungkook can't hold it in anymore and you showed up extra pretty. you planned this, didn't you?
(yes.)
gently, he helps you undress.
he takes your shirt off for you and takes a deep breath when you arch your back for him to unclasp your bra. nervously, he does so. then, he tosses your bra aside and takes in the view. 
the prettiest fucking tits he’s ever seen. 
jungkook reaches, cupping and squeezing your boobs. you watch him as he does so, unsure of what to do. 
he then lowers himself, placing kisses over your tits and down your stomach. positioning himself more comfortably, he finds himself in between your legs. lifting them up, he takes your pants off… then, his eyes flicker from you to your panties. 
his fingers play with the hem of your panties. then, he scrunches them together, tugging them up so your folds are exposed. 
“fuck,” jungkook groans. “so pretty…”
“yeah?” 
“yeah,” he breathes, watching your pussy begin to swell. “think your kitty can be good for me? think you can be patient? that’s it… good kitty.”
you tilt your chin down to look at him. 
he’s licking his lips, lowering himself down to your pussy. 
“be a good kitty, okay?” he says, as he begins to massage your pussy with his hands. your panties are still on so the friction of the fabric make you a little annoyed. 
aren’t you having sex soon?
shoudn’t this shit be off be now?
“jungkook—”
“i know, baby,” jungkook pouts at you. “i know it’s hard to wait… look at your pussy… so wet and your panties aren’t even off.”
you whimper. “please, jungkook… take them off.”
“you want me to?”
“yes,” you huff. “want you to take my panties off.”
he nods slowly… as if he’s thinking about something—considering something.
then, he decides to give in. 
jungkook tugs your panties down entirely, leaving your pussy out in the open. he throws his head back in admiration. it’s like he’s been hit by cupid or something.
without warning, he buries his face inside. 
jungkook begins with a couple licks and spreading your folds a part. his tongue brushes against your clit—up, down, side to side—everywhere. god, you feel him everywhere. after a few licking and sucking moments, he pulls away and rubs his thumb against your clit. he spits on your pussy—letting his saliva drool down slowly. 
you watch. 
“you like that, baby? you like when i spit in your pussy?”
tongue-tied, you nod obediently. 
he grins before giving in again. 
jungkook eats you up, devouring every inch of your pussy. before you know it, he’s shoving a finger inside you as he sucks on your clit. you almost yelp at the sensation—a feeling completely new to you. 
“ohhh… yeah… f-feels so good, jungkook…” you moan, throwing your head back. 
honestly, the added finger burns. 
but he’s gentle with it. he moves his finger inside you with lots of intentions. he gradually shoves it in deeper and deeper too.. it just… it feels good. 
so good. 
you throw your head back and grab a fist full of his hair. 
“uh, uhhhh… mhmfffph—” you moan. “ohhh…. f-fuck…”
jungkook looks up and watches the way your lips twitch. how your body reacts to him eating you out… and it all just boosts his ego. 
he’s so glad to be here. 
jungkook then pulls away, taking his tongue out of the equation. he focuses on fingering you, making sure you’re enjoying the way it feels. you two catch each others gaze and continue to look into each others eyes. 
as jungkook picks up the pace fingering you, you bite your lip and love the way his eyebrows furrow in concentration. 
“f-fuck,” you utter. “i’m gonna—o-ohhh!”
you cum on his fingers. 
jungkook pulls them out, taking your cum and spreading it around your folds. he massages it in like lube before taking his fingers to his mouth. 
he tastes you. 
then, before you can catch your breath, jungkook leans down and kisses you. 
he kisses you deeply. 
when he pulls away, you ask; “c-can we…”
jungkook chuckles. 
“soon,” he assures you, tucking your hair behind your ear. he presses his lips against your cheek. 
then, his lips find yours with a hesitance that feels almost reverent, like he’s afraid to ruin something sacred. and then, slowly, he deepens the kiss—tentative at first, but with a growing confidence that feels utterly jungkook.
it’s the kind of kiss that feels like discovery. like he’s studying every angle, every curve, every reaction, cataloging them in his mind like a scholar with his favorite subject. his hands hold you as if you’re delicate but unshakable all at once, his thumbs brushing tenderly against your jawline.
when he tilts his head, changing the angle, it’s with a deliberate slowness, as though he’s savoring the moment, pulling apart the layers of this kiss to commit it to memory. you can feel the way his lips curve faintly against yours, like he’s smiling, like he’s finding joy in every second of this new experiment.
and you realize—he’s not just kissing you. 
he’s learning you.
nerd.
you gasp when he pulls you closer, your arms instinctively wrapping around his body. his lips part slightly, and the way he kisses you now feels like a question, like he’s asking for something without saying a word.
he’s meticulous, like he wants to explore every inch of you through this kiss, leaving no detail untouched. the way he holds you is tender but firm, grounding you while setting your pulse on fire.
when he finally pulls back, his breathing is uneven, his forehead pressing lightly against yours. his eyes flutter open, and they’re soft, full of something you can’t quite name but feel all the same.
“i want you forever,” he murmurs, his voice low and thick with awe, as though he’s just unraveled the world’s most beautiful equation. 
you giggle at him. “great. can we start now?”
“way to kill the mood—”
“please, for the love of god!” you squirm. “fuck me already.”
jungkook can’t help but laugh. 
but he gives in. 
jungkook shifts out of his pants, revealing his hard cock. 
you stare at it.
it's pretty.
it's thick all around and his tip looks like it's angry. you like the way it looks though... looks delicious. his cock has you completely mesmerized. you almost want to crawl to it but he saves you the journey as he brings it close to you. 
truth be told, jungkook's a little nervous.. he doesn't want to fuck this up.
“you know…” he begins, as he jerks himself off in front of you. “i want to be mean. like, really fucking mean. i want to make you beg. i want to make you choke on my fucking cock and have you scream my name but—fuck, ___… i look at you and i can’t…. i can’t even do all i want with our fucking foreplay because i fold so easily when it comes to you. you want me to fuck you? fine. i’ll fuck you.”
“be mean,” you whimper. “come on. don’t be a pussy. just because this is my first time—f-fuck! holy shit, jungkook—”
jungkook has slowly puts his cock inside you. 
you gasp for air. 
he caresses your face as you adjust to him being inside you. then, he drags his tongue around your neck. he sucks on it a bit, causing you to grip the sheets.
“o-oh my… j-jungkook…”
“you okay, baby?” he asks, slightly moving himself in deeper. 
you take a deep breath and exhale from your mouth. “f-fuck…”
he’s so big. 
you can feel every curve of his dick and vein. when his tip entered, it felt funny. like, uncomfortable but also really fucking good. as he begins to thrust in and out, you breathe through the sharpness of his movement. 
“hurts…” you confess. 
jungkook shifts, and kisses your neck. against your skin, he murmurs; “i’m sorry, baby… do you want me to—”
“no,” you tell him, as you open your legs wider. you wrap yourself around him and hold on tight. “think… think i’m okay. can you move more?”
jungkook nods and kisses you once more. 
he begins to fuck you.
slowly but surely… he begins to drill himself into you. 
missionary isn’t his favourite but having you this way… especially for your first time? god, did he love this. as you dig your nails into his back, you whimper every time he thrusts back inside you. 
“f-fuck,” you moan. “jungkook… it’s…”
“what?” he almost panics. “a-are you okay?”
“yeah,” you breathe. “it feels good now… can you… go harder?”
jungkook hisses, feeling like he could lose his mind. 
“can we switch position?” he pitches.
you agree.
jungkook then pulls out of you, and you suddenly feel the emptiness. he goes on his knees and takes you by your waist, guiding you to turn over and go on all fours. 
doggy. 
jungkook helps you position yourself before angling himself. he licks his hand and spreads your entrance. he then guides his dick inside you. as he begins to thrust, you suddenly feel him reach around and start to rub your clit…
and oh my god. 
does it feel heavenly. 
“oh,” you hum. “feels so good.”
jungkook leans over, and kisses your shoulder. as he pulls away, he takes his other hand and grabs a fistfull of your hair. he pulls your hair back and you moan at the tightness. 
“you like that, my little bitch?” he grunts as he fucks you. 
he feels your pussy clench. then, he smriks. 
“oh? you like being called a little bitch, huh?” jungkook then takes his hand off your clit and uses it to slap your ass. "my fucking cockslut. always so fucking horny but you're just a little dirty minded virgin, right? not anymore, okay? i'm taking it. taking all your sticky fucking cum. you're all mine, baby. you know that, right? you're mine, bitch."
smack. 
your pussy tightens around his cock again. 
smack. 
you moan his name. 
“jungkook…”
he inshales shaprly and moves both hands and grabs your waist. he pulls you into him with each trust, adding more intensity. 
jungkook fucks you harder and harder and you can’t help but love the way it feels. you moan his name, whimpering pleads like; “please… please, fuck me harder.” you can’t help it… it’s the way that his hard cock feels inside you that make you say shit like that. it’s the way that his hands roam around your body and you feel him everywhere… because he is everywhere. 
his mind goes dizzy. 
he goes blank actually. 
then, when you reach back and wrap your arms around the back of your thighs—jungkook feels like he might lose it. 
how do you know how to move like that?
god, you’re so hot. 
“mhmm. that’s it…. fucking me so good, nerd.”
then, jungkook loses it. 
like… really. 
he fucks you harder and harder until you’re whimpering his name and almost near tears. he doesn’t realize how hard he’s fucking you until you’re near climax—
“i’m cumming!” you cry. 
it happens so fast. 
suddenly, you cum and you lose your balance. 
jungkook helps you lay down properly. he gets on top, continuing to fuck you in missionary. as you catch your breath, you feel him hiss against your skin. 
“fuck.”
just then, jungkook pulls out. 
as he jerks himself off, you tug on his hand and pout at him. he tilts his head, a little confused but quickly catches on. 
a few seconds later, jungkook is straddles your face. 
he places his dick inside you mouth and you focus on licking the tip of his dick. you do it softly, not adding much pressure. it sends shivers down his spine… then, you use the topside of oyur tongue to add more stimulation. you dig your face deep, licking his balls a little. 
he moans. 
then, you suck him off. slow but so fucking intense. 
jungkook can’t take it. he places one hand on the back of your head and helps control how deep you take him. 
his dick reaches the back of your throat and it’s fucking toe-curling for jungkook. you take him in so good. as you suck him off, he can’t help but not last long. 
“ahh–aahhhh.. f-fuck—” jungkook moans deeply. “nghhh.... fuck, ___! holy fucking shit...”
jungkook pulls out seconds later and cums all over your face.
as his cum drips down your face, you catch it with your finger and look at it. 
“ohh,” you pant. “that’s what cum looks like…”
jungkook rolls his eyes at you before dipping his head low and kissing you. you two laugh as you pull away, completely in disbelief of everything that had just happened.
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1 month later...
“you’re such a bad boyfriend,” you say, crossing your arms dramatically as you sit on the couch, watching jungkook fiddle with the back of your laptop.
he pauses, turning his head slowly to look at you over his shoulder. his glasses are sliding down his nose, his hair is a bit messy from pushing it back so many times, and he looks entirely unimpressed.
“bad boyfriend?” he repeats, sounding genuinely offended. “you asked me to fix your laptop. i'm a chem major, not tech.”
“smart boyfriends are supposed to be well rounded."
he glares at you. "again. you asked me to fix your laptop. i'm doing my best, baby."
"yeah, but like... i asked you over an hour ago,” you tease, leaning back and pretending to sigh. “you’ve been ignoring me ever since.”
“ignoring you?” he scoffs, turning back to the tangled mess of wires. “i’m literally upgrading your RAM so you can stop complaining about how slow it is. if anything, i’m the best boyfriend.”
you hum thoughtfully, pretending to consider it. “debatable. the best boyfriend wouldn’t make me sit here in silence while he nerds out over motherboards or whatever.”
“okay, first of all,” he says, setting the screwdriver down and turning to you fully now, “it’s not ‘whatever.’ this is your motherboard’s lifeline. without it, you don’t get to binge your little dramas.”
“so you’re saying you’re not doing this for me—you’re doing it for the laptop?”
“i’m doing it so you don’t keep stealing my ipad to ‘watch just one more episode’ and kill my battery in two hours,” he fires back, but there’s a little smirk tugging at the corner of his lips now.
you tilt your head, grinning. “i think you just proved my point.”
“fine,” he says, pulling his glasses off and tossing them onto the table. “what do i have to do to reclaim my best boyfriend title, huh? flowers? chocolates? fixing this annoying laptop isn’t enough?”
“hmm,” you pretend to think. “i’d say… maybe you stop being a nerd for five minutes and come cuddle me instead.”
he rolls his eyes but moves toward you anyway, tugging you into his lap without hesitation.
“there,” he says, wrapping his arms around you as you snuggle into his chest. “am i forgiven, or do i need to sit in front of a claw machine and lose $200 again?”
“hmm,” you hum, grinning as you tap your chin. “hello kitty does look a little lonely. but maybe she deserves a friend when you really screw up.”
“you’re planning for that?” he asks, incredulous.
“not planning,” you tease, shrugging. “just preparing. i’ve already picked cinnamon roll for when you really drop the ball.”
he stares at you for a long moment, narrowing his eyes. “you know, this feels like extortion. i bet you mess with me on purpose just to stock up on plushies.”
“maybe,” you say sweetly, poking his cheek. “but you can’t prove it.”
he sighs, leaning his head back against the couch dramatically. “great. i’m dating a scam artist.”
“you’re dating a genius,” you correct, grinning.
“genius or not,” he counters, tightening his hold on you, “you’re stuck with me.”
you tilt your head up to look at him, biting back a laugh at the slight pout on his lips.
“wow, jungkook, that’s so nerdy of you.”
he groans, letting his head fall against your shoulder.
“i’m never fixing your laptop again. let me know when you need help naming all the isomers of butanol—"
"baby, did you hear that?"
"hear what?"
"you put the dolphins to sleep. good job! yay, your marine conservation bullshit finally came in handy—"
"wanna break up?"
"meanie."
"you're mean."
"sure, let's break up," you tell him. "how about never?"
"never?" jungkook asks, tucking your hair behind your ears. "sounds good."
you glance at him, a playful smirk tugging at your lips.
"it's you, me, and the fucking dolphins forever, nerd."
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unbotheredgoose · 2 days ago
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if there's one thing you know about yourself is that you shouldn watch your mouth when you're drunk.
but you're out with your friend, and she looks beautiful when she laughs, and it's so good to see her not stressed from work, and it's great that you finally get to hang out after such a long time, and you can't help but ask her:
"why?"
"why what?"
"why do you humans keep wasting so many resources trying to make that earth planet habital? i don't get it."
she gets this somber look in her face. the laughter stops. she looks like she might cry.
you feel terrible.
"i'm so sorry, i shouldn't have... you don't have to answer that-"
"my grandma was born there, you know that?"
you stop talking. she looks distant.
"when i was a kid, she told us all about how it used to be, before everything. when she was little, she lived in a small house with her parents, and her mom grew crops in the garden, and they had a tree that gave them bitersweet fruit on the summers. sometimes birds would make nests on that tree, and she and my great grandma would set up little houses and playthings for the babies to play with.
she was always fascinated by birds. all animals, really, but especially birds. i've never seen a bird in my entire life if not for her drawings, and she always regretted the fact that she never got into coloring to show us exactly what they looked like.
she has pictures of her and her college friends visiting waterfalls and running together in the wilderness. she used to camp, like, a lot, really camp, in the middle of the woods, just her and her friends, like we read in the books. it's different from camping in vr, she kept telling us, we had to actually learn how to not die in the woods.
she married my grandpa at the beach, and... it's so different from the simulations. the sunset was beautiful in the pictures she showed us, but she told us that it was even better in person. she looked so beautiful with her sunburnt skin, even though she was in pain, and we never have to worry about burning our skin because of the sun, everything is all so protected and artificial, we don't even see the sun anymore.
my grandparents promised each other that when they got older they would have a farm. my grandma always wanted a few birds and a big dog. but then, when my parents were ten years old, the planet was so screwed that they had to populate other planets. she kept telling us that she was one of the lucky ones, because my grandpa was in the military and they helped people evacuate, but that most people like her died on earth.
everyone thinks it's our fault, you know? we doomed our planet, why would we even be trying so hard to restore it? i don't know. my grandma did it because she didn't want my parents to grow up in this place, where everything is made up and she did it all for nothing, because we're still here and we know nothing different from it. and to be honest, it's kind of hard to believe it was her fault in the first place. she really did her best. she saved water. she planted trees. she protected birds and other wildlife. she protested.
the truth is: no one listened. no one important enough, at least. no one cared about the little people like her, who were just trying to live their lives in a doomed world, and kept doing her best. the big guys wanted the money and they fucked everyone else over just to have it."
"i'm sorry, i-"
"i guess now that we've lost everything people are finally learning to miss what we used to have. our lives weren't so bad. and we want to go home, even though that doesn't make sense. i don't know what home looks like. i don't know what a bird looks like, or what it's like to stand on a beach and feel the waves lap at your feet, or what the forest smells like. but i keep trying to go back anyways."
she takes a sip of her drink.
you stay silent.
"You humans have hundreds of planets under your control, so why do you waste so many resources trying to make that Earth planet habital? I genuinely don't understand."
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dissapointu · 9 hours ago
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how about arcane characters with a s/o that has a cat companion. Like his cat is seen everywhere they can go, on there shoulders, runs to the market, gang shootouts( for some of the more morally grey characters in zaun.) ect. The cat is very protective of there s/o and was hesitant when they first met the characters in question, but the the less is a good boy/girl.
A protective, ride-or-die cat as your constant companion? ICONIC. This little feline bodyguard is out here stealing hearts and taking names, while also being suspicious of anyone who gets too close to you. Spoiler alert: they’re gonna be OBSESSED.
Jinx
Jinx would be INSTANTLY fascinated by your cat.
• The first meeting? Pure chaos. Your cat hisses, and Jinx hisses back just to mess with it. “Oh, so YOU’RE the boss here, huh? Let’s see how long THAT lasts!”
• Once your cat warms up, Jinx is smitten, carrying it around like a baby while saying stuff like, “We’re gonna blow stuff up together, kitty. You’re in the gang now.”
• She’d build it little accessories, like goggles or a harness for “maximum chaos.” (“Every sidekick needs gear, babe!”)
• During fights, Jinx is cackling as your cat perches on your shoulder like a tiny warlord. “Look at us—unstoppable!”
Vi
Vi would think it’s hilarious at first, but the cat’s loyalty earns her respect.
• The first time the cat hisses at her, Vi raises an eyebrow and smirks. “Feisty little thing, aren’t you? Just like your owner.”
• Once she gains the cat’s trust, she’s giving it belly rubs and calling it tough-sounding nicknames like “Scrapper” or “Claws.”
• She LOVES how the cat follows you everywhere, even into sketchy situations. “Guess I’ve got competition for best protector, huh?”
• If anyone messes with you, she’s jokingly like, “Back off before my partner—or their cat—tears you apart.”
Sevika
Sevika would be skeptical at first, but the cat would win her over.
• The initial meeting? Your cat hisses, Sevika laughs. “This one’s got guts. I like it.”
• Eventually, your cat starts curling up on her lap while she’s playing cards or sharpening her arm, and Sevika’s like, “You better not tell anyone about this.”
• She secretly respects how loyal and fearless the cat is, especially during high-stakes situations. “That furball’s got more spine than half the people I know.”
• Sevika would jokingly side-eye the cat whenever it interrupts your time together. “I get it—you’re the favorite.”
Silco
Silco would be intrigued by your cat’s protective nature but would take his time earning its trust.
• The first time the cat hisses at him, he just raises an eyebrow and calmly says, “Loyalty. A rare trait.”
• Once the cat warms up, Silco quietly appreciates its presence, occasionally letting it lounge in his office or sit on his desk.
• He admires how the cat mirrors your loyalty, seeing it as an extension of your character. “A creature so devoted is a reflection of its owner.”
• Silco would lowkey enjoy the cat’s protective instincts, smirking when it growls at anyone who gets too close to you.
Vander
Vander would LOVE your cat and its unwavering loyalty.
• The first meeting? Vander just chuckles when the cat hisses at him. “Alright, alright—I’ll win you over eventually.”
• He’d bribe the cat with scraps from the bar until it starts curling up next to him while he works. “See? Told you we’d be friends.”
• Vander appreciates how the cat follows you everywhere, especially in dangerous situations. “Good to know someone’s always got your back, even when I’m not there.”
• He’s always sneaking the cat treats, saying, “You keep looking out for ‘em, and I’ll keep looking out for you.”
Ekko
Ekko would LOVE your cat’s adventurous spirit.
• When the cat hisses at him, Ekko laughs and holds up his hands. “Okay, okay—I get it. You’re the boss.”
• Once the cat warms up, he’s geeking out over how cool it is, building it little toys out of scrap and playing with it whenever he gets the chance.
• He admires how the cat sticks with you through thick and thin, even during Firelight missions. “Your cat’s tougher than half my crew. Respect.”
• Ekko would probably try to teach the cat tricks, joking that it’s your team’s new mascot.
Jayce
Jayce would think your cat is the CUTEST thing ever.
• The first time the cat hisses at him, Jayce gasps dramatically. “Hey! I’m one of the good guys!”
• He’d try so hard to win the cat over, and when it finally lets him pet it, he’s grinning like a kid. “See? We’re friends now!”
• He loves how the cat sticks by your side no matter what, always making jokes like, “Your bodyguard’s doing a great job. I don’t even need to be here!”
• Jayce would probably try to invent something cool for the cat, like a heated bed or a high-tech collar.
Viktor
Viktor would be fascinated by your cat’s loyalty and behavior.
• The first time the cat growls at him, he tilts his head and says softly, “I suppose trust must be earned.”
• When the cat warms up, Viktor starts absentmindedly petting it while working, smiling softly when it purrs. “A loyal companion… quite remarkable.”
• He admires how the cat follows you everywhere, even into risky situations. “It seems I’m not the only one who values your presence so deeply.”
• Viktor would probably get distracted by the cat while working, letting it sit on his desk and bat at his tools.
Caitlyn
Caitlyn would be absolutely charmed by your cat and its devotion.
• The first time it hisses at her, she just smiles and steps back. “Fair enough—I’d probably be wary of me, too.”
• Once the cat accepts her, she’s all about giving it gentle head pats and sneaking it little treats.
• Caitlyn loves how the cat sticks with you everywhere, often teasing you like, “I think your companion’s better at keeping you safe than I am.”
• If the cat ever senses danger, Caitlyn takes it seriously, trusting its instincts completely.
Mel Medarda
Mel would be intrigued by your cat’s presence and loyalty.
• When the cat growls at her, she just chuckles and says, “Protective, aren’t we? I can respect that.”
• Once the cat warms up, she lets it sit in her lap during meetings, occasionally stroking its fur as she works.
• She admires the bond you have with the cat, seeing it as a reflection of your strength and loyalty. “A creature so devoted is rare. You must be someone truly special.”
• Mel would probably spoil the cat, commissioning a luxurious collar or bed for it.
Ambessa Medarda
Ambessa would find your cat’s loyalty both amusing and impressive.
• The first time the cat hisses at her, she smirks and says, “A bold one. I like that.”
• Once the cat accepts her, she quietly grows fond of it, often letting it sit beside her during quiet moments.
• She respects how the cat stays by your side no matter what, especially in dangerous situations. “You’ve chosen your allies well—even the furry ones.”
• Ambessa would probably train the cat to follow commands, just to see how far its loyalty goes.
Maddie Nolen
Maddie would immediately be soft for your cat.
• The first time it hisses at her, she’d laugh nervously and say, “Alright, tough guy—I’ll win you over eventually.”
• When the cat warms up, she’s constantly sneaking it treats and letting it curl up on her lap.
• Maddie loves how the cat is always by your side, often joking like, “You’ve got the best backup anyone could ask for.”
• If you’re ever upset, Maddie’s probably cuddling you and the cat at the same time, whispering, “We’re both here for you.”
Lest
Lest would be enchanted by your cat and its loyalty.
• When the cat growls at her, she just smiles and says softly, “It’s alright—I understand. I’ll wait until you’re ready.”
• Once the cat warms up, she’s gently stroking its fur and murmuring little compliments like, “Aren’t you a beautiful one?”
• She admires how the cat sticks by your side no matter what, seeing it as a sign of your kind and dependable nature.
• Lest would quietly make sure the cat feels as loved and cared for as you are.
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amermaidsecretdiary · 2 days ago
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I'M QUITTING + MY VOID STATE SUCCESS STORY
Hello guys, it's been a long time since i have posted something or in general be active here which was mostly because of personal reasons (just focusing on myself), although one of them had to do with our community.
I personally joined loatumblr at the middle of 2022 (from a previous anonymous account i had) but i started posting much later. Back then, the community was at it's peak ngl. The bloggers and the way they explained stuff was honestly, at least for me, so helpful and enjoyable. After the end of 2023 - beginning of 2024 this community started dying. I really didn't like this since I loved scrolling through specific blogs and reading their posts. I tried to post some stuff to give a little bit of life in there and i guess it did help a little.
Quick note; Please don't get me wrong, i'm not saying that the current posts and blogs running right now suck.. what i'm saying is that this community used to be way more alive back then.
One of the reasons why this happened is because people applied and got what they wanted. So they logged off tumblr. When I realised that, I decided to seriously focus on loa and start applying myself. And i ended up manifesting some good stuff, and I was good with it. Although, after some time, i decided that i wanted to manifest a completely new life from scratch, which it was what i wanted to do from the first time i joined tumblr but i ditched that thought and ended up changing some stuff about my current life.
My goal back then was to enter the void state (which im pretty sure it was 95% of the people in here goal too), but i didn't understand it properly so i couldn't 'enter'. I ended up ditching it and manifested without it. But after some point, i did my research and fully understood the void state or better, pure consciousness. If you go through my blog, you won't see much stuff about pure consciousness because i choose to not talk about it in here. The way it is treated it loatumblr just pisses me off. If you post a void success story, people will immediately run to you and ask you basic stuff like 'how did u do it?' when all the information needed about it is already posted. People tend to see it as something 'huge' and believe they can't succeed in it which is bs. If you do a little bit of research on pure consciousness you will understand how simple it is. Although, even if the 'void state' is seem like something that people overcomplete this doesn't mean that you can not use it. What i'm saying is that there are some people who really dislike the concept of it and will recommend u not to try it. Look, everyone has their different opinions and beliefs but if you want to manifest your dream life in the void state, go ahead. After all, it found you for a reason.
So coming back to my experience, since it was always my 'dream' to manifest my dream life in the void state, i decided to do it now. I'm pretty good at lucid dreaming (i've been lucid dreaming 3 years now) i decided to tap into my pure consciousness during a lucid dream. So i did my usual routine, had a lucid dream in which i closed my eyes and found myself floating in a void. I affirmed that i have lucid dreams everynight and then i got out. I did this 4 days ago, and i have had around 3-4 lucid dreams every single night, without doing any practise at all. Also, i have been scripting my entire dream life and i'm preparing myself to finally experience it. I have decided to make a looottt of big changes but two of them are the 'biggest' for me; numb.1 i will manifest that i will completely forget about my current life (i will also not remember anything about the law, for personal reasons) and numb.2 i will go back in time around 30 years ago (again for personal reasons). I mentioned this to make it clear to you that i won't be able to post my 'success story' after manifesting it, since i will not remember anything about me manifesting stuff and also even if i did, i wouldn't be able to post it since i will not have access to tumblr or current technology in general. So my success story is this one. This days, when i find the right time for me, i will have a lucid dream as usual and tap into my pure consciousness again which from there, i will finally manifest the life of my dreams. So that's my final post you will see from me. I hope you all never give up and get what you want because trust me it's worth it and all this found u for a reason. If you really want it and you stay consistent, then it's all yours. My words can not describe the way i feel right now, knowing that i have my dream life right in front of me and i can just grab it and give it to myself anytime, after this big journey. Goodbye everyone :)
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2amriize · 2 days ago
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.ᐟ RIIZE scenario: babysitting ༉‧₊˚.
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req: can u do babysitting with riize members? like babysitting a little cousin or something along the lines of that i guess? anton and eunseok with those kids makes me ☹️ it’s so cute!!!!!
pairing: bf!riize x reader —masterlist
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⭑.ᐟ shotaro
Shotaro had never taken care of such a small child before. At first, he wouldn’t really know what to do and would get a little (okay, very) nervous, letting out constant nervous laughs while asking every five seconds: “What should we do now?” After watching you struggle for a while trying to get the child to stop crying, he’d step in to help. He’d start making funny faces, quickly getting the child to laugh. You were surprised by how fast he managed it and how well they seemed to get along.
⭑.ᐟ eunseok
Even though you didn’t expect it from him, Eunseok is actually really good at babysitting. It’s probably because he has a younger sibling and a lot of experience with them. You couldn’t stop staring at him every time he played with the child, carried them, or soothed them—which, for some reason, he was particularly good at.
"I thought you already knew I’m good at everything."
⭑.ᐟ sungchan
He wouldn’t stop smiling and watching the child. Every little thing the kid did would make him grin. To keep everyone entertained, you decided to bake cookies together, but Sungchan got distracted for a moment and spilled the entire mixture on the floor. You didn’t expect that, seconds later, after a brief silence, the three of you would be starting a food fight, laughing uncontrollably.
"Just so you know, you’re cleaning this up, babe," you’d whisper in Sungchan’s ear once the chaos was over.
⭑.ᐟ wonbin
It would be pure chaos. Even though Wonbin finds little kids adorable, he has no idea how to interact with them. He wouldn’t know what to talk about or how to keep them entertained, but he’d keep trying new things to grab their attention, even attempting to teach them how to dance. That said, if the child started crying, you wouldn’t find him anywhere near.
"That’s all you," he’d say, pointing at you.
⭑.ᐟ seunghan
Things would start off pretty smoothly, but you knew it wouldn’t be a good idea to leave them alone. You’d only be gone for three minutes to use the bathroom, but when you returned, Seunghan and the child would have completely turned the living room upside down. Cushions and blankets would be scattered everywhere. According to Seunghan, he’d built an obstacle course to see who could complete it faster (and of course, he’d let the kid win).
⭑.ᐟ sohee
You’d spent the entire afternoon playing with the child, and it had been challenging for both of you since it was your first time babysitting. When bedtime rolled around, the child refused to go to bed no matter how much you insisted. That’s when Sohee came up with the idea to tell them a story and sing a lullaby. You were amazed at how quickly Sohee invented a tale about a princess named “y/n,” who needed to be rescued by the great knight “Sohee.”
⭑.ᐟ anton
He loves kids. In fact, he adores them, and he knows exactly how to take care of them. You, on the other hand, would feel completely lost. Even though you wanted to help out or spend some time playing with the child, they always ended up gravitating toward Anton. It wasn’t intentional, and you found it sweet to watch the two of them together, but deep down, you felt a little bad that the child kept choosing him over you. Anton noticed and told the child to go hug you and plant a kiss on your cheek while you were sitting on the couch, which completely made your night.
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masterlist // taglist: @regularsuh @gacktsa @totheseok @kkumistars @taroddori @enhacolor @ladylilith @electric-hearts @astrobymarwa @layluv123 @sunflowers1610 @nctrawberries @synkjellies @ramyeonzprincess
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3leafedclover · 21 hours ago
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im just gonna rb this post to rant in my echo chamber cause i love my little echo chamber house cause some people guessed the point of this post and some didnt
the terms afab and amab are already 90% worthless. they are currently terms for a single event in your life. it determines nothing of your anatomy, past or current. if you say "afabs", youre now saying literally nothing. that is a group that has nothing in common besides a letter someone decided to put on your birth certificate at birth for any number of reasons.
this is not even mentioning that these terms were not coined to describe all people. afab and amab were first used by doctors a hella long time ago to describe them surgically "correcting" intersex infants, hence "assigning" them male or female. the intersex community since picked up that language and began to use it to describe their experiences with being forced into a sex role, which has led to it becoming generalized for other people when it is useful for things like avoiding dysphoria. which i do not mind! but knowing the history is kindof important here.
theres not a replacement for these terms as far as "male" and "female" because those things do not truly exist. you can sum up about (spitballing) 95% of the population with those words, and there will always be people who fall into a grey area. as far as biology goes, a trans woman who has gone through vaginoplasty and HRT for years is no longer "biologically male", their health requires they be treated as a "biological female" or important health risks will be missed. the sex binary doesnt exist. if it wasnt already broken at its conception (it was) its sure as hell broke now.
stop using afab and amab to describe huge groups of people. they are to be used by the person themselves if they wish to describe their experiences with how birth assignment has affected their life. if you cant summarize a statement by saying something like "this will be important to people who have breast growth," or "this is for people who did or are expected to go through E-based puberty," or "this is for people who currently have functioning testicles," its not important to generalize at all.
"afabs" "amabs" tbeyre not nouns im going to rxplode and there will be organs and carnage everywhere
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hadersversion · 3 days ago
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‘tis the damn season.
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“so we could call it even, you could call me babe for the weekend.”
pairing: rafe cameron x pogue! reader
warnings: 18+, SMUT, p in v, fingering, begging, overstimulation, use of babe....let me know if i forget anything lol. ALSO in some places in america, thansgiving eve is literally just a holiday to get drunk in your hometown
your home for the holidays for the first time in years. you've been avoiding rafe, the reason you've been away for so long, but after seeing him again all the old feelings come back. when rafe sends a text one night, you end up in the back of his truck like old times.
i parked my car out front of my childhood home, staring at the old exterior.
somethings never change.
being back in the outer banks felt strange. it has been a while since i have been back, avoiding come home for as long as i can. but with a few begging phone calls from my mom and kiara, here i am.
i knock on my front door and am greeted with a bright smile.
"jj?" i ask, confused.
"welcome home, stranger." he says, with a hug and grabbing my bag.
i walk into my living room and see the pogues, sitting with my mom. a homemade 'welcome home' banner hanging above their heads.
my mom comes over and gives me a big hug. "i thought i would never see this face again." she says with a squeeze.
"boston isn't that far, mom." i tell her but i know she would never leave the outer banks. never in a million years. i turn towards the others and smile. "i wonder who could've put this together?" i say, looking at kiara.
"hey it wasn't all me, pope was the one who brought it up." she says, engulfing me in her arms.
"guilty." pope chimes in, joining the hug. i feel jj and john b join in as well. my family.
we break away and hang out in the living room, catching up.
"don't tell me you went all city on us, y/n." john b pokes fun at me.
"not completely. but it is nice having more things to do than hang on the beach and smoke." i wink.
"who could want more than that?" jj asks, making us all laugh.
"speaking of," kiara starts. "there's a little thanksgiving eve celebration happening at the wreck. just some people from high school. nothing big."
"just a chance to get drunk of our asses and go to dinner the next day hungover." jj says, causing kiara to nudge him.
"what do you say? want to join us?" i look around the room at my friends, all eager waiting for my response. with a sigh, i nod and they all cheer. "thank god, i don't think i could've done that alone."
i smile and nod. it should be fun, it will be. but my brain can't help to wonder if the one person who's kept me away from coming home will be there. no, he wouldn't. not with the pogues. but a part of me can't help but hope to see his face.
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i fix my sweater in the mirror in my room, my body fidgeting from anxiety. it's been a few days and i still can't shake that feeling from my body about being home. sure, i'm happy but this place holds so many memories. memories i wish to bury. i stare at the photo booth picture tucked into my mirror of him and i. i guess i forgot to hide this with the rest of the stuff. i take it off the mirror and sigh, examining it.
almost four years since it was taken. almost four years since we called it quits. and yet, he still haunts my memories. his presence making itself known through cheap beer at the bar, expensive men's cologne at the mall, exhaust that leaves motorbikes as they ride down the street. he's always there, whether i like it or not.
the sound of a horn breaks me free of my thoughts.
"y/n, they're here!" my mom calls from downstairs.
"coming!" i open my dresser drawer and slip the photo in before racing downstairs. i kiss my mom on the cheek and slip out the door, rushing into the van.
"ready to get fucked up?" jj asks with his devilish smirk.
i roll my eyes and laugh. "let's go."
we pull up to the wreck, it's already dark outside and a slight breeze fills the air. we all hurry in, greeted by familiar faces. my name is called from every direction, old friends from high school or the beach. all my fellow pogues who i know and love. when i'm done making my rounds, i head over to our table. everyone has some drink in their hand, beer or cocktail, and they all smile up at me.
"who would've though little y/n y/l/n would be a pogue celebrity?" pope jokes.
i flip him off and slide in next to john b. kiara hands me a beer and i take a sip. "i'm not a celebrity, i'm just one of the only people from this island who actually made it off."
they all make jokes at my despair, teasing me in any way they could when sarah walks up. i feel my stomach flip and i smile at her. "y/n!" she embraces me. "i'm so happy to see you!"
i hug her back and smile. "me too, sar. how's everything been?"
"the usual but i can't complain." she sits next to me and lays her head on my shoulder. "it's been forever."
"it has." i sigh. "it really has."
we all share stories and laugh around the table. we take shots, chug beer, and play different drinking games. just like old times sake.
"i need another beer." i say with a slight slur in my voice, standing up. "anyone else?" everyone shakes their head as i excuse myself.
i walk up to the bar and wait my turn, twirling my debit card in my hand. it could be the alcohol but i feel content and happy to be home.
"y/n?"
until that moment.
i don't want to turn around, i don't even want to accept my fate in this situation.
i know that voice, i could recognize it in a crowd of millions of people. it was the voice that lingered in my dreams, my thoughts.
i turn around and look at the man.
"rafe."
he looks older, his hair buzzed and some facial hair covering his face. but those eyes. they are the same eyes of the boy i loved.
we stood there, not saying a word. just taking the sight of one another in.
"i didn't know you were home." he says, not breaking eye contact.
i nod, biting my lip. "i am, i got home monday."
he chuckles to himself and shakes his head. "how long you here for?"
"till saturday. then i'm going back to boston." my throat feels scratchy and my face is on fire. i want to be anywhere but here now.
his eyes continue to study me. "two more budweiser's, please." he says to the bartender. i open my mouth to protest but he shakes his head. "on me, think of it as a welcome home gift."
the bartender hands me the beer and i smile. i turn back to rafe and tip the bottle to him. "thanks."
"no problem." he clinks his bottle to mine. we both take a long sip. my eyes are desperately trying to find a place to land, ending up on the bright sign above the bar. but rafe's are still on me.
"you okay?" kiara asks as she walks behind rafe. she is my gurdian angel.
"yeah, just waiting for my beer. excuse me." i squeeze past rafe and walk back to my table. i look back at him and smiles. i hate him.
a few drinks more and my ears are ringing. it was loud and everyone was far too drunk. i excuse myself for air outside. there are a few people lingering, smoking cigarettes or waiting for ubers. i smile and take in the nostalgia.
"you know, it would've been nice to know you were home." i hear rafe's voice next to me.
i roll my eyes and look up at him. "oh, would it have been? sorry, i didn't think you'd care." i say coldly. that liquid courage is taking control.
he looks down at me. "and why would i have not cared?"
"hmm, let me think." i put my finger to my chin. "oh, right. 'don't ever contact me again. we're so over. i wish i never met you. blah. blah. blah.' do you want me to go on?" i say to him.
i watch as he processes what i said to him, the words of our last fight. he looks guilty, for once in his life. "that was years ago, y/n. w-we were just kids."
"oh, really? then why haven't i heard from you for the past few years? phone works both ways, rafe." i say, shrugging.
he stands there quietly, i got him.
"how's school been?" he asks, nonchalantly.
"are you for real?" i ask.
"what? i'm being nice." he says.
i huff with frustration. "you are such an ass." i push pass him and walk onto the sidewalk.
"where are you going?" he asks, following after me.
"away from you." i say, not looking back.
i hear him run up behind me and he gently grabs my arm. "y/n. y/n, stop."
i turn to look at him. "what do you want from me, huh? you want to torture me even more?"
he stares at me, hand still on my arm. "what? of course not. y/n, i missed you."
"fuck off." i spit out without thinking.
"you're drunk."
"and you're an asshole." i say, flatly. "you...you fucking broke my heart and you expect me to act like everything is fucking dandy?"
"y/n." he tries to plead his case.
"no, rafe. you don't get to waltz in here and act like everything is okay with us. do you know how much you fucked me over? one day you're telling me you love me and you want to move to boston with me and the next, you're dumping me over the phone." i poke his chest. "i did everything you wanted, i kept what we had between us a secret, i took care of you. and nothing was enough for you."
he looks down at his feet in guilt. "i-i know, i'm sorry. i was...i was fucked up back then. with my dad on my case and the drinking...i wasn't okay. i felt like..." he cut himself off.
"what, rafe? you felt like, what?" i ask.
"like i was going to hold you back, alright?" he raises his voice. "you are too good for this place, for me. i didn't want to hold you back. i loved you too much to do that to you." i stare at him and laugh. "what? what's so fucking funny?"
"you, rafe. you." i sigh. "instead of being a man and handling your emotions, you ran and hid. we could've worked that out. but you were too scared." i close my eyes and shake my head. "goodbye, rafe."
i walk down the street, hugging my body as the wind blows. a weight has been lifted off my shoulders but there's still that feeling i get whenever i think of him. that feeling that i miss him.
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thanksgiving flew by, even though i had a hangover that felt like it would last a lifetime.
i helped my mom clean up the kitchen as the pogues did the dishes and took the trash out. just like old times.
once we were done, we sat outside around the bonfire. you would think after yesterday, drinking would come to a halt but jj found a bottle of vodka in the freezer and mixed it with kiara's apple cider. we all enjoyed each other's company but my mind could not help but wander. my last conversation with rafe ringing through my head.
"instead of being a man and handling your emotions, you ran and hid."
i shake my head and take a sip of my spiked cider. as much as it rang true, there was still that part of me that wonders 'what if?'. the more i thought about it, the more i wanted to pick up my phone.
no, i need to be the bigger person. i'm stronger than that. i can't text him first.
then i felt my phone buzz in my lap.
rafe: hey
i stare at the text and bite my lip. i know i should ignore it, let it go unread. but my fingers work against my brain and type 'hi' back to him. i sit there, eagerly waiting for a response.
rafe: can we talk?
rafe: i'm sorry about last night, i'm a fucking idiot.
rafe: there's so many things i could say to you rn
rafe: but i miss you.
rafe: i wanna see you.
i look around at my friends and sigh, they would be so mad at me for this.
y/n: sure, give me like an hour.
y/n: park down the street at the usual spot.
my friends leave my house, mainly due to me faking another wave of hungover puking. i run upstairs and check myself out in the mirror, i look damn good. when i get his text, i sneak out the backdoor and hurry down the street. i see his truck parked under the big tree, the spot he always parked in.
i open the truck door and hop into the passenger seat. i look over at him, he's still in his dressy clothes. a blue polo that hugged his arms right and khakis that made his thighs look exceptionally big. he knew what he was doing and i can't tell if i hate him or love him for it.
we drive in silence for a bit, his radio playing music faintly. his hands grip the steering wheel as his mind looks like he's on another planet. i play with the ends of my sweatshirt, anxiously waiting for him to do something. anything.
he pulls up to the beach, the spot where we would always come to. it was dark and the waves crashed against the shore loudly. he turns the car off and looks over at me.
"thanks for meeting me." he says simply.
"sure."
"i'm sorry about last night. you went out to have fun and i ruined it, i know i did."
i just nod at him.
"and...you were right. about it all." he sighs, running his hands over his face. "i should've manned up, talked to you about how i was feeling. but you know how i get. i get too in my head and just jump to conclusions. it wasn't fair to you." he looks into my eyes. "these past few years without you have been a living hell and i have only myself to blame."
"are you drunk? high?" i ask.
"w-what?"
"are you not sober?" i ask again.
"i'm sorry, what? of course i'm fucking sober." he says. "why would i not be?"
"rafe cameron...taking accountability? i'm sorry, it just seems so...foreign?" i laugh.
"i'm being serious, y/n."
i laugh again. "oh, i'm sure. and...the sky is green. we live on the planet pluto. aliens exist and so do unicorns!"
he pinches the bridge of his nose. "y/n, i'm telling the truth! god, you always joke around."
"yeah, because i know you." i say to him. "and you would rather eat concrete than admit you are wrong."
"eat concrete?" he asks, with a smirk.
"you know what i mean!" i huff with frustration.
he grabs my hand and stares in my eyes. "y/n, i am fully sober. we are not in another universe, it is not opposite day. i was wrong and i am sorry."
my brain malfunctions as i look into his eyes. "y-you mean it?"
"every word i said."
my brain not working means i experienced a lack of better judgment. i grab rafe by his collar and connect our lips for the first time in years. this kiss, the one i have longed for since i left this place, was the missing puzzle piece i've been searching for in my life. everything seemed to make sense again.
his hands cupped my cheeks as his tongue slipped into my mouth. he was hungry for me and i wasn't going to stop him because i felt insatiable as well. his hands roamed from my cheeks down to my neck and onto my shoulders.
i needed more.
i climbed onto his lap and straddled him. my arms connected around his neck as he pressed against me. i felt his cock hard against his khakis and i wanted it. i wanted it all. i rubbed myself against him, causing us both to moan.
he continued to kiss me until he broke away and looked at me. his puffy lips formed a cocky smile as he brushed his nose against mine. "you missed me."
"shut up." i was itching for more.
"admit it, you missed me. you missed the way i made you feel." he states.
"rafe, shut up and kiss me, please."
"ah ah ah." he shook his head. "not until you tell me."
"you're such an ass." i roll my eyes, trying to catch my breathe.
"yet, here you are, rubbing yourself against me in my truck." he says, kissing my cheek. his lips then go to my ear and down my neck. "i want it all with you, right now, babe. but i need to hear it."
"fine! fuck, i missed you. are you happy?" i groan, needing him.
"very. get in the backseat." he demands. i quickly follow his order, hopping in the back over the seats. he gets out of the truck and opens up the back door, sliding in next to me. "come here." he pulls me back onto his lap and we pick up where we left off. i continue to rub myself against him as he sloppily kisses me. "just like old times." he jokes and i hit his shoulder. "c'mon, don't act like you don't think about it."
"oh, i do. but i bet you think about it more than i do." i smirk.
"probably." he laughs. his fingers fall to the hem of my sweater and he plays with it. "now are we only here to kiss or?"
"why? you wanna fuck me in your truck? just like old times." i say, making fun of what he just said.
"i do, i wanna fuck you right here, right now. it's all i've been wanting to do." he kisses my jawline. "do you want me to fuck you?"
this is what i missed the most, our back and forth.
"yes, rafe. i want you to fuck me." i moan out.
with that, he practically rips my sweater off my body and starts to kiss down my chest. his large hands palm my clothed breast. i bite my lip and let my head fall back, missing the way he affected my body. i felt his hand snake around to the back and unclip my bra quickly.
"show off." i say, out of breathe.
i smirks and connects his lips to my nipple, sucking and licking it. his hand massaging my other. "don't pretend you don't like it."
i smirk and shake my head.
he continues to focus on my tits, going back and forth between the two.
"more." i whisper, eyes clenched shut.
"what was that?" he asked in a teasing tone.
"i need more, rafe. please." i beg.
"look at you all needy for me. i knew you missed me." his hand slipped under my jeans and panties, stopping right at my core. i felt his fingers curl inside me, going in and out. "all wet for me, huh? what a good girl." he pushed in, fingering my cunt, when his thumb found my sensitive bud. he added pressure, circling it, and i felt as though i was seeing stars.
"s-shit." i cry out, moving my hips to try and gain some friction.
"feel good, baby? let me hear how could i make you feel." he picked up his pace and a pornographic moan escaped my lips. it's been forever since someone has made me feel this good. rafe knew my body like it was his own, he knew how to get me going. "there we go, like how my fingers feel?"
"u-uh huh." i nod, mouth hanging open.
his fingers worked their magic, rubbing my clit at a pace that'll make me come undone in no time. "love the way you look on top of me, baby. so fucking sexy." he attached his lips to my tits again and continued fingering me.
i felt on fire.
i place one hand on the window and the other on his shoulder, holding on for dear life. the more he whispered about me and the faster his fingers were going, i was cumming on his fingers before i knew it. i rode out my high, screaming his name. once i was done, i felt him pull his fingers out of my pants, my juices getting all over myself. i stared down at him, trying to catch my breathe, as he popped his fingers into his mouth and sucked.
"just as good as i remember." he cleaned his fingers off and kissed me again. my hands ran down his buff chest and stopped at the bottom of his polo, lifting it up. his gold chain laid against his chiseled body, he was perfect. i felt as though i was in a trance as i began to kiss down his chest. i could feel his groans vibrating in his chest and i smirked because i was the one making him feel this way. "i need to fuck you."
"you need to?" i laugh, kissing lower and lower.
"yes, y/n. i need to bury myself inside of you, please." he pleaded.
"i like when you're the one begging." i bite him lightly, causing him to hiss.
"i bet."
i unbuttoned his khakis and sat up so he could slip them off. his grey boxers were discolored from the precum leaking off his cock. he took his underwear off and his cock sprung out. "i-i don't have protection." he said, mentally cursing himself out.
"well, are you clean?" i ask.
"yes. i-i haven't been with anyone since." he openly admitted.
i felt the darkness overtake my eyes as i lower myself down onto him. his breath hitched as he slipped all the way in. he was deep inside of me, causing a few tears to leave my eyes. but the pain subsided as he started to rock my hips with his hands, moving me back and forth. i picked up the rhythm he started with me and placed my hands on his shoulder to steady myself. i felt the truck rocking back and forth as i did so.
his hands found my ass and rested there. "fuck, i missed your pussy. so good, takes me so well." he kissed my chest as i grinded back and forth.
i felt my finger nails dig into his shoulder as his cock hit all the right spots. i looked down at him and he stared at me in awe, like i was some work of art. "fuck, rafe. you're so big."
i bite my lip as i let my head fall back in pleasure. i ride him fast as i keep saying his name. "shit, y/n. you're such a good girl, you're so hot. you feel so tight."
i connect our lips, i feel his hands tighten around my ass. this means he was close. "i want you to cum in me, rafe." his eyes widen as he opens his mouth to ask for permission. "p-please fill me up. i miss it so much." i say, trying to catch my breathe.
with that, he lets out a groan and my name falls from his lips like a prayer. "y/n." i feel him coming inside me, painting me. it doesn't take long for his thumb to find my clit again. with the extra pressure applied to my overstimulated cunt, i feel my head reeling. the air in the truck is hot, making it almost hard for me to breath. it all feels too much, my body releasing onto rafe yet again.
we sit there, panting with our eyes closed. i rest my head on his sweaty chest and he kisses me gently. he rubs my back, tracing circles into it.
"felt even better than i imagine." he says, his voice gruff.
"you thought about it a lot, huh?" i smirk.
"all the fucking time."
i take him out of me and sit next to him in the truck. the windows are foggy and our hands find each other, holding them. i get a sense of weird nostalgia, from how things used to be with us.
"well that was a thanksgiving to remember." i joke, trying not to feel overwhelmed by what happened.
"'tis the damn season." he replies.
i slowly slip my sweater back on and try to find my pants.
"w-wait." rafe says. "is this...is this it? just a single fuck and you're gone."
i look at him, his eyes pleading with me.
"i go back to boston on saturday rafe, we only have like a day and a half."
i wish we could keep this going, i wish this was how things always were. but i had to think realistically. i have to go back home, i have to move on with my new life.
he grabs my hand and squeezes it. "boston is only an 11 hour drive. hour or two by plane."
"rafe." i say.
"i can't lose you again. i can't, y/n. these past few years have sucked without you. i can't wait until you come home for christmas again. now that i've got you again, i can't risk it."
i sigh and kiss his hand. "i know. i know." i close my eyes and shake my head. "we'll make it work. we almost did it before."
"we can do it again." he smiles sweetly. i kiss his lips gently, laying my hand against his chest.
"you'd do an 11 hour car ride for me?"
"y/n, i'd fucking walk if i have to." he smiles.
i roll my eyes and kiss his cheek. "you're so cheesy."
he lays me back against the truck seats and kisses me. "don't act like it doesn't work for you."
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