#but yas and of course another way i can keep it in check is t judt up the weekly goal..

[nomaishuttle]

i think my solution 4 the streak system issue btw is to cap it at 3 and if im able to keep it up for 4 weeks then itll go up to the easier difficulty ykwim.. so its worth less. so like if im able to meet the goal for my Single red task (which is outside time) 4 weeks in a row itd move down to a yellow task.. and the streak would reset and once i get it 2 4 again it goes to a green then to blue and etc.

[beardedjoel]

pretty little wife | morning glory

joel x f!reader one shot collection

part two of pretty little wife — can be read independently series masterlist | main masterlist | ao3 summary: 4.3k words — saturday mornings in the miller household are for a few things only, and most of them include joel making his wife come as many times as he damn well pleases. | no apocalypse au, no use of y/n warnings: 18+ MDNI! pre-established relationship/dynamic, unprotected piv, rough sex, free use kink, sub/dom relationship, oral sex (f receiving), overstimulation, dirty talk, pet names for reader, cute husband joel, generally extremely submissive reader so if you're into that this is for you! a/n: i'm literally so blown away by the attention the first part of this got like WOW i'm so glad you all loved reading it as much as i did writing it! here's another snippet in their domestic bliss, and stay tuned for some ~interesting~ developments in the next part

i've decided to start a kofi in case anyone wants to consider a small donation to support my work! ♡

As much as you love Friday nights, the day Joel comes home pent up from a week of work and fucks it all out onto you, you love Saturday mornings even more. 

Saturdays are for you Joel always says, and he starts this particular Saturday by waking you with kisses on the forehead and a fresh, steaming cup of coffee on your nightstand, one you can smell before you can even see it. He insists that after a long week of making meals, keeping the house spotless, your book club, nurturing your friendships, and keeping up with his insatiable need for you, you deserve one morning that’s completely for you, where Joel is happy to service you in multitudes.

You grumble and squeeze your eyes shut tighter as you feel his lips press onto your cheek again, and Joel laughs at your insolence. 

“Know y��don’t like to sleep past eight, honey,” Joel comments as you continue to resist his attempts to wake you up. 

“I knoooow,” you whine. “Mostly your fault I was up so late,” you add on, grumbling and recalling the way Joel had kept you up, insisting he keep filling you over and over. From the moment he got home until late in the night, somehow he’d managed to come three times, torturously edging you then making you come between them. Some days you truly wonder where the hell he gets the stamina from, how a man of his age can act like he’s twenty years old some nights. Anytime you ask, he just says that you make him absolutely fucking crazy, nothing more to it. It’s a miracle the two of you found each other, someone that can keep up with him just as well as he can with you. 

“You’d like it better if I didn’t fuck you when I want then, hm? Get you all fucked out like last night?” he asks, his voice with a grating edge that’s between a threat and teasing. You make it a point to peek your eyes open at him finally, letting him see the fear in them at that prospect. 

“N-no,” you shake your head wildly, eyes going wider as you fully wake up. “Of course not.”

“Thought so,” he says before leaning forward to kiss you, a sly smile dancing on his lips as you look over at him, perched on the bed next to you. He’s laying on his side, propped up on one elbow as he takes you in, his eyes full of mischief as they tend to be in the mornings. 

“You know I have to give you a hard time when you act like you did last night,” you tell him, and Joel considers your words with a grin. 

“I know ya do. Wasn’t too much last night, right?“ he asks. You always appreciate that Joel checks in like this, especially when he knows he’s gone further than the average day. And last night… he’d shown you just how long his week had felt, and how much he needed to make up for the lost time he’d had working late a few nights. 

You shake your head sternly in reply. “Not at all,” you say sweetly, and Joel’s face relaxes before he leans in for another kiss that you gladly return. 

“That’s my good girl. Your coffee’s over there,” he says, head gesturing towards the mug, despite every Saturday being the same with your coffee always on the nightstand when you wake up.

“Thank you, baby.” A flash of a grateful smile from you is all your husband needs, and you can see him melt a little bit at it. 

You sit yourself up against the headboard, the sheet falling you reveal the top of your silky camisole trimmed in lace, a beautiful mauve color. Joel’s eyes catch on the skimpy fabric, one strap slipping down your shoulder, and he smiles, his eyes shading darker, watching as you reach for your coffee and start to sip on it. It’s perfect, a splash of your favorite creamer just to give it a little sweetness, and you send a grateful thought into the universe that Joel knows you so perfectly well. 

“I see that look you’re giving me,” you say, giving him a close lipped smile over the top of your mug, eyes flashing at him with intrigue.

“How’s it different from any other Saturday? Y’know it’s all about you today,” he says matter-of-factly. 

You chuckle and shake your head playfully. “Can’t a girl enjoy her coffee for a few minutes?” you tease him, and Joel makes a quiet, nearly growling sound in his throat before sitting up and moving to straddle your legs. 

“Y’can certainly try, but you ain’t gonna be able to hang onto that mug for long, or do much of anything but come for me,” Joel says, and you find yourself losing your breath slightly at his words despite hearing much more filthy things coming from his mouth in the time you’ve been together. 

“How many times this morning, then?” you ask tauntingly, taking another long sip from your mug before setting it back safely on the nightstand.

Joel’s eyebrows raise a bit before he slides himself further down on your legs, taking the sheet with him. You shiver a little at your skin being exposed to the air, the only thing covering you being your thin camisole and shorts set. Joel takes you in with hungry eyes, the way your body responds to being exposed with a smattering of goosebumps.

“As many times as I want, doll, y’know that,” he says. His fingers find their way to the silky hem of your shorts, passing the material through his fingers and inspecting it for a few seconds. 

“Don’t know why y’even bothered to put this on after I was finished with you last night,” Joel muses, eyes traveling up the fabric until he reaches your chest, where your hardened nipples are starting to poke through the silk. “Just gonna take it right off this mornin’. Maybe rip it…” His head tilts cockily as his other hand slides up your smooth thigh slowly, tortuously. You arch your back slightly, lips parted with an oncoming whimper, showing him how much you want it. 

“Am I not supposed to wear all the pretty things you buy me?” you retort back, low and still husky with sleep. “And rip this one? It’s my new favorite,” you say with a frown, trying to sound whiny and desperate enough to convince him to spare this pajama set. 

Joel has quite an affinity for coming home with new lingerie and sexy sleepwear for you, strolling into the house after work with a boutique store bag, the contents inside shrouded with pretty paper. He’s given you countless slips, bras, thongs, garters, or any style of lingerie he finds that he wants to see you in. You tear them open with equal delight each time, something to replace the things that are ruined in one of Joel’s many other affinities - tearing your lingerie off of you. Whenever you gripe about it he promises to replace it with something even better. So far, he hasn’t failed, always spoiling you with something gorgeous each and every time.

Joel’s head leans forward, burying into your chest, settling between your breasts and inhaling deeply. “I know… you love this one…” he says, breath hot on the dip of skin between your tits, sending your already hardened nipples straining further through the fabric. 

“Maybe I can get the same one, should still be for sale.” He begins kissing the soft skin there, goosebumps spreading across your body as his warm lips clash with the curve of your breast. You can feel his hands start to grip the bottom edge of the fabric, pulling it tight, desperate to rip it off of you. 

“Better be. And a new set of panties to match it,” you bargain with him, and Joel glances up with a wide smirk, loving when you show him your more feisty side. His head dips back down, tongue finding your silken covered nipple and flicking it a few times before sucking it into his mouth. You arch into him, moans of his name spilling from your lips. He sucks until you can feel the surrounding fabric getting soaked, and you’re writhing wildly under his large frame, begging him. 

“Please, baby… I need it,” you whine out, and Joel pulls his head off of your chest, a string of his saliva still connecting him to your shirt for a few moments. His eyes are lustful now, darkened a few shades by your body’s response to him.

“Need what, little doll?” he asks bitingly, almost condescendingly. 

“Touch me, Joel.” Please, please, please. You beg in your head, nearly having to stop yourself from reaching between your legs and touching your clit yourself. 

“Be a patient girl for me now,” he counters, and you feel your cunt clench around nothing at his commanding words, desperate for him to ravage you in any way he sees fit. 

Joel places his hands on either side of your waist, his lips moving to start work on your other nipple, sucking and biting on it through the fabric. When both are thoroughly abused, swollen and aching from his mouth, you’re sure that you’ve soaked right through your panties to your shorts. You can feel your cunt pulsing, aching, the feeling spreading deep within you as you breathlessly pant, your hips twitching in desperation. 

“Fine, fine,” Joel says, breathing out an amused laugh. “Let’s see what you’ve got on under here.” 

His hands hook around your pajama shorts and yank them down, exposing the cotton thong you’d put on. Maybe Joel had been right, you should have just stayed naked last night - you’d likely be halfway to an orgasm by now if he hadn’t gotten distracted with all your clothing.

“Almost like you didn’t want me to make you come this morning, all this damn clothing in the way,” he tuts, snapping the waistband of your thong hard into your hip. You wince at the sensation but it only serves to make you even more wet for him.

“P-please -“ you beg, barely able to get any other word out but that same one over and over. 

“Baby… jus’ fuckin’ soaked….” Joel muses with an amazed sound to his voice. “Even after last night, just a little suckin’ on your pretty tits get you like this? Fuckin’ drippin’ through your panties, little doll.”

You writhe as his fingers toy with your nipple while he talks, the other hand swiping across the front of your underwear to take in just how badly you’re wanting him. 

“Yes - y-yes it does,” you answer dutifully, and Joel smiles ear to ear.

“Wet f’me all the time, ain’t you? Ready whenever I need this tight little pussy,” Joel grits out, giving your sopping cunt a swift slap and repositioning himself between your legs, letting his head dip down. You nod wildly in response, murmuring more begs of “please” as he nears torturously close to your warm heat. 

“Need a taste of this, bet you’re so fuckin’ sweet right now,” Joel says, his mouth now inches from your cunt. You nearly cry at the anticipation, hips pushing towards him, your throbbing clit begging your body for any kind of relief. 

Joel’s surprises you by dipping his mouth to you, but he licks a strip up the outside of your underwear, dulling the sensation for you. You still moan loudly, so desperate to feel any part of him touching you in between your legs. He continues to lick along the fabric, pushing his tongue down hard to reach your slit through your panties before he starts sucking on your clit. 

“Wh- my underwear, Joel… please….” you moan out, mostly incoherent now, feeling a dull pleasure starting to build deep inside of you. 

“And let all this go to waste?” Joel replies, sucking the fabric into his mouth just to taste what you’d already spilled out for him. “Don’t think so, darlin’.”

You flutter your eyes when his tongue pokes into your entrance, the fabric adding an extra layer of texture to all the sensations that’s driving you absolutely wild. It’s pulling you closer and closer to the precipice, to the edge where you now sit teetering as Joel’s tongue makes contact with your clit again, rubbing your panties against it as he flicks there. 

He groans out loudly at the taste of you in his mouth, the way your panties keep getting more soaked between his own saliva and all the arousal you’re gathering there from the way his tongue is moving on you. 

“I’m- oh, Joel, fuck, don’t stop,” you whine, hips starting to stutter into him. You arch your back slightly, chasing your high with just a few small jerks of your hip. “I’m so close…” you say breathlessly, frustration boiling in your blood that you’re not quite there yet. You start squirming needily and Joel moves quickly, throwing your legs over his shoulders and pushing back on your thighs so that your legs are pressed close to your body. You can feel even more how much you’re soaked, absolutely dripping as it slides down onto your ass, the sheets below you. 

“Come for me, baby, y’can do it, so fuckin’ pretty and wet for me. Be my good little wife and come for me,” Joel praises quickly into your cunt before sucking hard, pulling your clit into his mouth and pressing a finger against your entrance, pushing your panties into it and pumping shallowly in and out a few times. 

You snap at his praising words, desperate to do good for him, to follow anything he wants from you and you finally feel the tension in your belly coil so tightly that it breaks, sending you careening into your high. 

“F-fuck, oh, Joel, baby,” you whine out with long, low moans, shaking as your body goes taut and vision goes white. You shudder and writhe into his mouth as he keeps a steady pressure on your clit and moves his fingers rapidly on your hole.

“Good girl, fuck, such a good girl, let’s do another,” Joel says as soon as he feels you coming down, and moves quickly, his tongue darting around the edge of your panties and sliding underneath, one finger pulling the fabric aside.

You nearly scream his name, the overstimulation coupled with his now direct contact with your most sensitive parts has you absolutely reeling. You pant heavily, trying to scoot your body away, but Joel’s hold on your legs is tight, his own tension starting to build underneath his sweatpants. 

His tongue buries in you, lewdly lapping and slurping at every last drop of your come that he can as he groans in pure pleasure at the taste.  He’s getting more aggressive, his need for you climbing as you rush towards another high. 

“Fuck, gimme this tight little pussy,” Joel murmurs, his heaving breaths against your skin. He quickly starts to tear your panties, and through your haze you hear the ripping of fabric and seams, laying with your legs still pressed up against your body, held up for Joel to see between your legs clear as day. You feel like complete jelly, nothing reaching your mind but Joel Joel Joel and the pleasure he’s giving you. 

He dives back in after you feel the torn panties laying open and limp against your thighs, his teeth nipping at your clit here and there, sending your hips twitching and little yelps flying out for your mouth. 

“Need something’ in here, don’t you? Can feel you desperate, squeezin’, want my big fingers in there,” he says, more of a statement than a question, but you find yourself nodding dumbly, figuring that Joel seems to have known best up until this point, so no use in questioning it now.

He takes the liberty of pushing three fingers inside of you, giving you no chance to adjust, pumping them in and out a few times and then immediately hooking them to find the spongy part of your walls. Your breath catches, and you find it hard to get air into your lungs now between his mouth and fingers ruining you in tandem, making you fall to pieces. 

You can’t speak, can’t think, can only chase what he’s giving you and let out pathetic moans and mewls and he fucks you with his fingers and presses on your g-spot. You feel tears brimming in your eyes, sliding down your cheeks but you don’t care, not when every bit of you is on fire in the best way, screaming out in pleasure. 

“Hold your legs up f’me, need to fuck my fist to this, all these pretty little noises my wife makes,” Joel commands, and you do your best to keep your legs where he’s pushed them to, finding the muscles starting to tremble with the exertion and your quickly approaching climax. 

“C’can’t hold on,” you whimper as you feel Joel shimmying on the bed to sit up and pull his cock out with one free hand, the other continuing to pump in and out of you. You peek down through half lidded eyes to see his cock, so hard and raging with need that it sends a pulse of desire straight through you to your aching hole. You need him inside of you, but most Saturday mornings he’s insistent on just eating you out like this until you’re a limp, sweating, crying mess, not wanting to detract from your pleasure by using your pussy for his own.

“Let go, baby, come again f’me,” Joel coos before his tongue circles your clit again and you melt into the pleasure, letting it wrack your body once again. You hear the slap of his flesh against his cock as he pumps it, fucking his fist earnestly as he hears your cries for him while you come around his fingers, squeezing him to keep pressing on the spot that’s absolutely devastating you. 

“So fuckin’ addicted to this, gimme another, little doll, help me finish,” Joel says, sounding nearly manic as he pumps on his cock. “S-so good f’me, Christ,” he murmurs as he whimpers a little at the sight of you coming down from your climax and the feel of his own hand wrapped around his cock.

“Wanna feel you, wanna come on your cock, please… p-please…” you whine, completely dazed now. 

“Y’know…” Joel struggles to get the words out, “It’s your turn, n-not about me,” he says with a grunt, tugging hard on his cock.

“It’ll make me come, I p-promise, just fill me up,” you tell him, holding your shaking, spent legs open wider, inviting him in. You writhe at the thought of Joel being inside of you, knowing your fully displayed cunt is fluttering and squeezing at nothing right now, and Joel can see every bit of it.

“Please…” you utter quietly, and that last insistence is what sets Joel over the edge. He’s on top of you in a second, wrists grabbed into his hands and pinned next to your head as he uses his body to keep your legs held up and steady before slamming into you. You yell out in complete bliss as he fills you to the hilt without stopping in one thrust, his cock stretching you mercilessly.

“That what you needed, pretty wife? This big cock inside ya? Get it every fuckin’ day, can’t get enough though, ain’t that right?” he says, unable to stop himself from immediately thrusting into you over and over, chasing after his orgasm. You’ve noticed that Joel can have incredible self control with most things until he’s buried balls deep in you, only then does it all go out the window. You love that power you hold over him, despite giving him every ounce of power to take it whenever he wants.

“Yes, yes, Joel, fuck me,” you cry, “harder.”

“Harder? Want me t’ruin this tight little pussy, it’s all mine, all mine,” he rambles on. “Fuck, c’mere and let me fuck you like I own it.” 

He grunts as he pulls out of you with a wet pop, scrambling to flip you onto your belly and slamming back in as quickly as possible, cock hitting you so deep your eyes roll back as he presses your cervix.

You can only make wild, completely feral groaning sounds into the mattress as he fucks into you, devastating you as you see your vision spotting with white from the combination of pleasure and pain that he’s doling out. Your entire being feels supple right now, completely given over to Joel as he uses you to reach towards his own pleasure.

You whimper as your hips grind against the mattress, your sore and overstimulated clit getting even more friction than you can handle, and sure enough, you crash into another climax, your body shaking violently as Joel presses down on your back, fucking you even harder as you squeeze around his length and pull a rough, staggered grunt from him while he pumps one last time before spilling everything. Joel comes hard, pressing himself as flush as he can with your body, and you can hear his ragged breaths coming from behind you while he starts to come down. 

You both stay exactly as you are, his half hard cock still twitching inside of your cum soaked cunt, both of you struggling to get a grip back on reality. You only now realize just how tear stained your face is, several stray tears still rolling down your cheek and onto the sheets below you.

Joel gingerly pulls out of you, but you stay prone, even as he crawls up next to you, just laying flat and letting his spill drip out of you, loving the feeling of being so used, so messy for him.

You flutter your eyes open to try to look at him, and you know it must be a sight to behold. Joel thumbs one of the tears on your cheek and then pinches it gently, rubbing his thumb along the soft skin there.

“So cockdrunk, look at ya,” he says with a disbelieving shake of his head.

“Mmmm,” you manage to get out, not even sure what you’d say if you could speak right now.

“I’m gonna run you a bath, pretty girl, then we’ll get you fed.” You can only nod in return, still trying to get yourself back to the present moment as you feel the bed move when Joel slips away. You doze as you hear the water running from the adjacent bathroom, and curl up slightly just before hearing Joel pad back into the room and gently shake your shoulder.

“Let’s go, gotta take care of yourself, doll,” he insists, and you mumble as you open your eyes and start to sit up. Joel peels your sticky, sweaty camisole off, tossing it on the bedroom floor and then leading you to the bathroom. The sight and smell in here is heavenly, and you wonder why you’d even thought about resisting getting out of bed for something this incredible. Fresh lavender scents the bath along with a clean, linen scent from the candle Joel lit on the bathroom counter. Inviting steam drifts off the top of the bath and you can hardly wait to dip your foot in and soak down into it.

“Thank you, baby,” you say sweetly, turning to Joel and tilting your head up to plant a kiss on Joel’s lips. He grasps at the back of your head, pulling your head in even closer for a few long, lingering kisses. He licks into your mouth and you moan quietly, your still freshly fucked cunt unsure if it should ask for more right now, or if it even can.

“You’d let me fuck y’again right here, wouldn’t ya? Cum runnin’ down your leg still and everything,” Joel asks you, and you nod bashfully, avoiding his eyeline, knowing it’s the embarrassing truth of just how desperate he makes you.

“Christ, how’d I get this lucky, huh?” Joel answers with a crooked smile. “Get in that bath, sweetheart, y’need to rest now.” He spins you towards the tub and gives you ass a light smack, urging you forward. You chuckle and decide not to resist, knowing he’s right - your body needs a break from the wonderful man that is your husband.

“Breakfast in thirty, mkay? I’ll make your favorite,” Joel tells you, a final kiss landing on your bare shoulder before you step over the rim of the tub and you turn to see him leave the room.

You hiss a little at the immediate heat of the water, but quickly find yourself sliding down into it, a relieved sigh escaping your lips as the lavender reaches your nose and you lose yourself into the bliss your husband set up for you so lovingly.

After soaking until you’re feeling refreshed and bordering on pruny, you step out and see the outfit Joel set out for you in the bedroom, indicating that he’d had a particular preference for what he wants to see you in today. You smile as you hold up a rather non classically sexy outfit compared to your closet full of lingerie and pretty dresses - one of Joel’s old t-shirts and tiny lounge shorts that barely cover your ass. You throw Joel’s choice and relish in the scent of him surrounding you through his clothing, hugging the fabric tightly to yourself. You bound down the stairs eagerly to the smell of breakfast cooking - chocolate chip pancakes by the smell of it - and think dreamily about what another perfect Saturday morning it had been in the Miller household.

joel taglist: @bbyanarchist

[certifiedfreec]

i can’t stop thinking about neighbor!graves… 🤔

🏡 you’re new to the neighborhood, getting all your things moved in and seemingly drowning in all the boxes of stuff you have. you ordered some items to replace the ones that got damaged or lost during transit, so that only added on to the cardboard-ridden mess that was your new living room.

🏡 a few days after settling in, you finally notice one of your packages has a mysterious name on it: phillip graves. you suddenly feel bad; how long has this guy been missing his delivery?? you bustle out your door in your pajamas, looking for the house number that matches the one on the package until you finally find it. it’s a fairly large house with dark, sophisticated paint. it’s across and over from yours with a huge black truck backed into the driveway. very snazzy for a truck, you think, hurrying your way to the tall entry door and ringing the doorbell.

🏡 “hey, how can i help ya?” his slight twang is warm and uplifting when he opens the door, eyeing you with a keen interest. god, he’s pretty. he sees what’s standing before him in the cutest little pj set and he’s feeling like an angel was dropped at his doorstep. meanwhile, you’re freaking out- standing there in your scrubby pajamas in front of this ridiculously attractive man, who is apparently your neighbor, and you’ve been holding onto his package without him knowing. (you realize there’s another package of his you’d like to hold though- ba dum tss!)

🏡 you shyly introduce yourself, pointing toward your house and then handing him the box, which he accepts with a teasing “gonna have to tell the HOA about the new thief on the block,” and a quick wink. it nearly melts you, but we must stay focused brothers!! he thanks you and introduces himself as phillip, taking the chance to let you know that you caught him at a good time because he’s often out for extended periods of time with his work. the poor baby must exhaust himself with how busy he is :(

🏡 you hear what he’s saying and being the new, good little neighbor you are, you offer to swing by and grab his mail, check on his plants, and do some basic house upkeep whenever he’s gone. hook, line, and sinker- it’s just what he wants to hear. he accepts your offer with that pearly grin of his, but not without adding his contact info to your phone so he can let you know when he’ll be out of town :’) he’s just so handsome that you feel like you won the jackpot!

🏡 from that day on, it’s like you keep bumping into each other outside- how silly! you start to find some excuses to be out front, maybe to check your roof for any damage or plant some flowers along the side yard, and whaddaya know, neighbor!graves soon finds himself outside giving his big ‘ol truck a wash (you could swear it’s already spotless). god, those flexing muscles and the wet t-shirt clinging to them are much more interesting than your rhododendrons.

🏡 he’s such a friendly neighbor- he’s really taken a liking to you! <3 whenever he’s actually home, he’s got your grocery bags carried inside or he’s grilled some barbecue that you’d be “downright ridiculous not to try”- his words, not yours! it’s delicious, of course, and he credits all his skills to his old man and his “coworkers.” you decide to bake him some sweets in return, and he just about melts. you’re just so good, and so is your baking! he’d really like to taste something else though, too…

🏡 now, neighbor!graves is a pretty nosy guy, so he’s taken it upon himself to keep you in the loop on all the drama in the neighborhood. but really, can you blame him? it’s in his nature to find intel- someone in the community has to do it! this is also a subtle way of letting you know that he’ll be keeping an eye on you, too- because he’s gotta look out for his fellow neighbors, especially if they’re adorable ;)

🏡 eventually he’s away for a few weeks and you’re on deck to pick up his mail, water his indoor plants, all that good stuff. he gives you a key before he leaves and tells you “go ‘head and keep it, mi casa es su casa,” fully inviting you to get comfy in his space- and you do! his furniture is so sleek yet so cozy, his living room complete with a super plush leather couch and a ridiculously large tv. you gather from all his medals and badges decorating the place that he’s very accomplished at what he does- this guy’s the real deal. you also get a nagging feeling that you want to spend more time in his space- it’s just so comfortable, and it smells like sweet vetiver and crisp mint :’)

🏡 so… neighbor!graves, being the nosy guy that he is, has been tracking when you’ve been going over by checking his high-end front door camera from his phone. he can’t help but get flustered at the idea of you in his most personal space- god, he wants you in his bed- and he starts to remember your routine. when he’s finally finished with his operation, he may or may not schedule his flight so that he arrives home shortly after the time usually head over, and your entire body stills when you hear his garage go up. he walks in with some heavy-looking bags wearing an all-black outfit, and you almost swoon. he’s such a man.

🏡 woops, surprise! he apologizes for forgetting to mention when he’d be getting home. he’s so damn excited to see you in his house though, so cute and dutiful, having left his plants perfectly hydrated and not a speck of dust in the area. he has an inkling-no, a certainty- that you’d be an amazing housewife. he invites you to stick around for a drink since you’re already there anyway, and of course you accept since you’d be “downright ridiculous” if you didn’t!

🏡 after you fill him in on the neighborhood drama he missed over some scotch (he is loving your intel collection skills, by the way), he reaches for his wallet to get you some cash for all the trouble- this man was really about to give you a wad of hundreds for your menial house chores! unbelievable! you immediately shoo it away, insisting that it really was no big deal… well, now you’ve left him stumped, because how else could he ever show his appreciation for your hard work while he was away??

🏡 by eating your pussy, of course! it takes very little resistance on both your ends until you’re sprawled out on his luxuriously soft bed with his head between your thighs, moaning and mewling so loud from the perfect licks and swirls on your aching, needy clit that his front door camera can practically pick up on your noises :’) your slick is getting all over his satiny sheets, but he doesn’t even pay that any mind. a few sharp sucks to your sensitive bundle of nerves and the scratch of his light blond stubble along your inner thighs has you cumming so hard that you can’t help but chant his name- and he’ll be damned if that isn’t music to his ears! <3

🏡 he still doesn’t feel like he’s fully shown you his appreciation…maybe he needs to fuck the shit out of you too! he’s talking to you so nicely as he stretches your pulsing walls with his huge, veiny cock, reassuring you that you’re “such a good girl,” “lookin’ so gorgeous right now,” “takin’ me like a champ, baby.”… you’ve never felt so full, yet somehow you can’t get enough of him :( he decides to place a silky pillow under your hips so he can pummel into you from a deeper angle, and he leaves all kinds of purply marks along your chest as he tells you just how perfect your pussy is for him- god, he’s happy you moved here!

🏡 by now you’ve lost count of how many times you’ve orgasmed around his length, and he finally coats your insides with his warm, thick spurts of cum as he groans your name. you both collapse onto his sheets, exhaustedly drifting to sleep just to do it all over again in the morning ;) he gets a hot shower ready for the both of you before kindly requesting some of your amazing baking- he even offers you to wear one of his t-shirts so you don’t get any ingredients on your own clothes! of course, you’re more than happy to oblige. after all, he’s such a friendly neighbor <3

[a-killer-obsession]

Whoops, you got hit by a bus, and now you're in the world of One Piece. But not everything is quite as you remember it...

General Tags: afab reader, she/her reader pronouns, isekai, monsterfucker reader, vampire!kid, werewolf!killer, wyrm!heat, minotaur!wire, everyone has a human form, smut heavy, unhealthy relationships, dubious consent, serious violence, spoilers for Wano arc, starts pre-timeskip. There will be a lot of more intense kinks, please check AO3 for all current tags.

Chapter 10 - Terms and Conditions

Now that you're part of the crew, it's time to set some ground rules.

WC: 4k

Masterlist | AO3 | Chapter 1

You sat sleepily in Heat's lap, well, not his lap really, more like the middle of his tail. It was coiled in a tight spiral, your rump sat firmly atop it, your back pressed against his warm chest and his warm arms around your center. His naturally hot body temperature soothed the aches you still had from yesterday, he was taking such good care of you, knowing how worn out you were from taking most of the crew. He graciously hadn't attempted to mount you, but he hovered close by, which was welcomed given his sweet doting and care you were very much in need of. Your joints ached from the positions you'd been in for such a long period of time and your pussy was raw and aching. You didn't speak more than needed and Killer had provided soft foods, knowing your jaw was stiff from all the pussy eating and cock sucking you'd done. You were happy though. You felt content, and finally safe and secure in your position here. Well, as safe as you could be, now that you were officially a pirate.

“Now then Mouse,” Kid grinned, “let's make things official, aye? We believe ya story now, or at least we're trying our best to. It's still hard to accept yer from another universe. But you've at least proven your usefulness to us, so ya can stay on the crew. How bout it, Mouse? Ya wanna join my crew?”

“Yes captain,” you smiled sleepily, “will my job here be as your… bed warmer?”

“Aye, you'll be our ship whore,” Kid smirked, “only for the four of us here though, unless we decide to give someone a night with ya as a reward. You good with that?”

“Yes captain, as long as my boundaries are respected,” you stated.

“Of course lass,” Kid replied, “Wire will draw up a contract for ya later. He's the most knowledgeable here, he'll make sure your boundaries are laid out for us. Everyone we let have you will be made clear of your conditions. You're still up for the four of us free using you, aye? It was your original offer. I did let you live, after all.”

“Within limits, yeah,” you responded, trying to not let your lust-addled brain distract you from an important conversation. Being free used by four big, strong, attractive, well endowed men? Ohhhh what a horror, the worst thing you could imagine. “I like what we've got going on. Will I be given a share of the loot like the others?”

“Of course lass,” Kid chuffed, “if anything you'll be paid better. You'll be saving us a great deal of money by servicing us instead of having to spend money on island whores. We'll give you your own room, for convenience. Everyone else shares but the four of us, but I'm not sure anyone is keen on losing sleep whenever we have need of ya. There's a lounge in the castle we barely use, we'll have it cleared out for ya. We're on our way back to Sabaody as we speak, you can go to the shops and get whatever you need to get set up once we dock. We'll back pay you for your time since ya started servicing us.”

“Thank you captain,” you replied gratefully. You didn't expect him to pay you for your time as a prisoner. “That's generous of you. I won't let you down.”

“You'll probably find your bed doesn't get much use, unless you're in need of a break,” Kid continued with a chuckle, “but it'll give you somewhere to keep your shit anyway.

“Speaking of resting,” you interjected, “I had a bit of an idea. In terms of the free-using. I was wondering if you'd make me a more long term wearable collar, something that won't irritate my skin, thin perhaps. With a tag that has your jolly roger. I thought maybe we could use it as a signal, if I'm not wearing the collar then I'm in need of rest.”

“EXCELLENT IDEA!” Kid roared, spooking you a little as he thumped his fist against the table, “I'll make ya a collar that'll make everyone jealous of ya!”

“Thank you, captain,” you smiled, nuzzling sleepily against Heat's bicep.

“Tired, Mouse?” Kid smirked.

“Mmm,” you mumbled, “I feel like I'm hungover from yesterday. Drunk on dick I guess. And pussy.”

Killer and Wire snorted while Kid made a boisterous laugh. “Before you fall asleep,” Killer jumped in, “is there anything we need to know for the immediate future?”

“Mmm,” you mumbled, trying to sit upright, to which Heat helped you, nuzzling his face against your back, “you need to get the ship coated before Ace's execution, cos after that the only coater I know will be busy.”

“Where do we find him?” Wire asked.

“You're all familiar with the coater already, in fact you met him the other day,” you alluded, “Silvers Rayleigh, he can coat the ship. You'll find him, or at least his wife, Shakky, in grove thirteen at Shakky's Rip-Off Bar. You unintentionally helped his friend rescue that mermaid by helping the Straw Hats escape, so he should be amenable to coating the ship.”

“He's the coater?” Kid exclaimed, “the fuck is the ‘Dark King’ doing coating ships?”

“Paying for his alcoholism, mostly,” you yawned, making the others snort laughs.

“Alright then Sleeping Beauty,” Kid laughed, before his smile fell to a more serious expression, “we don't have to worry about this whole execution shit, right?”

“There'll be a war, but your crew won't be involved,” you replied, “it'll all happen over at the marine base. You'll just see it on a screen on Sabaody.”

“Alright then,” Kid huffed, pleased and relieved with your answer. It was no secret that there was tension in the air regarding the execution and whether returning to Sabaody was even safe tight now. There were reports that Whitebeard was on the move to save Ace, and it made Kid uneasy, but he trusted your prediction, you hadn't let him down thus far. “Go get some rest then princess, we promise we'll behave till you're up to it. I'll have that collar for ya before your pussy is ready to get destroyed again.”

Kid winked as he stood and grabbed a boob as he passed by, making you squeal and slap his hand playfully as the captain chuckled. You started to stand as well, but Heat swung you onto his back to carry you, making you giggle as you grabbed his horns for support. “Giddy up!” You laughed. He pretended to buck you, which only made you giggle more, Killer shaking his head with a grin under his mask as Heat carried you out. He and Heat were in high spirits, overly relieved and happy that your story had been proven true and you got to stay. You'd promised Heat to do some sunbathing with him on top of the dinosaur skull while the sun was out, it was a good excuse for a nap and a cuddle really.

You hopped off Heat's back as he made it up, he was surprisingly fast and agile in this form. It'd made you curious as to why he didn't use this form more, to which he had told you that it ‘wasn't polite’ to go around in that form, whatever that meant. Maybe it was like how zoan fruit users usually stayed in their human form? Heat laid down first, making a pleased grunt as his head rested on the pillow he'd chucked up here earlier, his long tail stretching along the skull like an arrow pointed at the distant Sabaody that hovered on the horizon.

“I'm really glad you get to stay,” Heat hummed as you got comfy next to him, resting your head on his chest, tucked into the crook of his armpit.

“Yeah, me too,” you murmured back with a big yawn. Heat gave you a soft smile and a little squeeze before the yawn caught him too.

“Alright, ready to get started?” Wire asked, tapping the tip of the feathered pen against the page in front of him, “I've made a list of kinks the crew like to indulge in. You just let me know which ones you're comfortable with. Ready?”

“Yup!” You smiled back sweetly, leaning forward and resting your face in your palm, your elbow against the table. It was just you and Wire in the navigation room, he didn't want you to have the pressure of the others watching you and potentially pressuring you into things you weren't comfortable with.

“First item - free use for the four commanders, under the circumstances that your collar is on. That much I know you're good with, but what about outside of that?” He asked.

“A big maybe,” you replied, “I'm a regular woman without the collar. If they can seduce me, sure. But I reserve the right to deny them without consequence.”

“Okay, seems reasonable,” he replied, the pen making scratching noises as he jotted it down, “I have a list of things you've already participated in, so I'll just run through them quickly so you can confirm them for the contract. Touching of all body parts, vaginal fingering, vaginal penetration, cunnilingus, blow jobs, deep throating, face fucking, use of strap on, cum on body including face and genitals and inclusive of female cum, cum in mouth, creampies. Threesome, degradation, praise, bathing together, face riding, both giving and receiving, those are the basics, yes to all of the above?”

“Can we make an amendment for no cum near my eyes?” You asked him, “otherwise yes to everything else.”

“No cum near eyes, got it,” he wrote on the page, “the next set is things you've done that are on the more intense side. Gangbang, bukkake, self-wetting, humiliation, somnophilia, exhibitionism, bondage, pet play and master/servant dynamics, both as dominant and submissive. Amenable to all of those?”

“Somnophilia is the sleep one, yeah?” You queried.

“Aye,” Wire confirmed.

“Okay, yeah that's fine,” you confirmed, “but um… I don't want Heat watching me use the toilet anymore. And I'm not eating out of a bowl or shitting in a litterbox.”

“Noted,” Wire replied, scribbling that down, “you were fine with the self-wetting though? What about other watersports?”

“I've never tried but, I'm not not curious,” you replied unsurely, “the self-wetting was… enlightening.”

“I'll put it down as a maybe, for future experimentation. You can change your mind later if you want, same goes for anything on this list,” Wire assured you, “now for the requests. Anal fingering, mouth to ass, anal sex. Receiving and giving. Thoughts?”

“Yeah, those are fine. I've done a few on the giving end as well, but I guess that person wanted to keep it to himself,” you noted, “just uh… only receiving the whole way with proper lubrication. No spit as lube bullshit unless it's only fingers.”

“Got it,” Wire confirmed, “next up, use of toys such as dildos and vibrators, use of nipple clamps, impact play, with hands and equipment. Bondage such as shibari, cuffs, bed, wall and furniture mounted restraints. Sensory deprivation. Tickling. Forced orgasms. Edging. Thoughts?”

“No to the tickling, limited to impact play. I'm not a fan of pain,” you explained, “light smacking is fine, but you can cross off anything too painful, otherwise yes to everything else.”

“I'll cross off knife play and hook suspension,” Wire said as his pen ran a line through several items, “next set. Foot play, non-con roleplay, softcore roleplay such as maid, fisting, sex under the influence of alcohol and drugs, use of purpose built furniture such as breeding benches, double penetration, of separate holes and of multiple cocks in one hole.” Wire looked at you expectantly, his pen paused over the page.

“Uhh, no to fisting,” you ran through the list in your head trying to make sure you remembered everything, “um… yes to one in the ass, one in the cunt. Maybe to two in my cunt, I've never tried. Definitely no to two in my ass.”

“I think you could manage two in one,” Wire smirked, “as long as I wasn't one of them. You took me so well.”

“Mmm, I certainly want to try,” you hummed, “quit reminding me of your big beefy cock or I won't be able to concentrate.”

“We're almost done,” Wire snorted and shook his head, “anything else not on this contract, we'll ask first. You'll be paid the same split as Heat and I get. You'll use the colour system for safe words regardless of if your collar is on or not. Green when prompted to go ahead, orange if something needs to change or you need a break, red if you need to stop. No consequences will come from using the safe words so please don't be afraid to use them. By signing this you agree to remain up to date with your birth control unless an explicit agreement is made to impregnate you, you may expect that from Heat or Killer, Kid and I aren't the type to want babies. If an accident happens, Kid promises not to kick you off the ship. The rest of the crew will keep their hands off you unless you give them permission, otherwise a maximum of once a week we may choose to allow them a night with you as a reward. You won't allow anyone outside of this ship to touch you without permission from your captain. You will remain on this crew unless relieved of your contract by the captain. You'll also be given regular STI screening, as the four of us do, and all other crewmates will be required to use protection with you. Do you agree to all these terms?”

“Sounds good to me,” you hummed, openly ogling Wire's muscular torso, “you wanna fuck?”

“Sign here first,” he shuffled the page over to you and you quickly signed it, biting your lip as he stood and rounded the table. He loomed over you from behind your chair, running his hand up your neck until his hand was sweeping your chin up, forcing you to look at him. You pushed aside the page with its drying ink and sat on the edge of the table, spreading your legs for Wire to slot between them.

“What happened to having a sore cunt?” Wire mused, running his thumb over your lower lip, pressing against the soft flesh. He was all for fucking you, he'd been thinking a lot about your tight cunt and wanted to take his time with you. He worried though that you were ignoring your limits.

“Well you see there's this thing called ‘remembering how fucking big and hot your cock is’ and unfortunately I'm no good at disagreeing with my pussy, she wants what she wants,” you purred back up at him, peeking out your tongue to lick his digit before taking it in your mouth, humming as you sucked his thumb.

“You're so cute when you're being submissive,” Wire grinned, replacing his thumb with his pointer and middle finger and gagging you with them, “I have been wanting to get a taste of that pretty cunt of yours. No collar though,” he hummed, running his finger down your neck and tracing a trail of saliva over where the collar would sit, “so I have to ask, can I taste you, princess?”

“Please do,” you huffed, pulling your legs up so your feet rested on the table, showing off your flexibility as you sat back. You'd never properly redressed after waking up, still just wearing one of Heat's old shirts, large enough to fit as a baggy dress on you, your pussy exposed and inviting underneath. You tugged on the hem of the shirt to reveal yourself to Wire, who hummed appreciatively as he ran his thumb between your folds.

“Already wet for me,” Wire cooed as he knelt, “such a good girl.”

He kissed your thighs softly, making you giggle, before his teeth sunk into the soft flesh and the giggle turned to a moan. He nipped you a few more times before his tongue ran a fat stripe up your cunt, and your hand pushed away his hood to tug at his short hair. His tongue lapped against your pussy as he pulled your legs to rest over his shoulders, giving the occasional suck of your bud that made you whine. He was clearly enjoying himself as well, grunting against your cunt as his tongue bullied its way inside you, licking at your walls while his hand looped over your thigh to thumb your clit. You could feel his pointed sideburns against your thighs as he ate you out, his thumb making small, firm circles on your bud as his thick tongue wiggled inside you.

“Oh fuck that's good,” you moaned, laying back against the table, “just like that, fuck.”

His other hand weaselled up under his chin, the end of his middle finger toying with your asshole and spreading the slick and spit that had rolled down around the ring before sinking in. There was a spark of electricity in your clit as his finger pushed inside your ass, not quite finger fucking you, just toying with your hole for extra stimulation. It made that coil in your stomach pull tight, your back arching off the table as you fisted his hair, holding him tight against you. You could feel the coy grin he made against your cunt, and you made the mistake of looking down, immediately catching his eyes that were watching you carefully from between your legs. Those fucking eyes, they always did something to you, and you threw back your head with a groan, cumming on his tongue, his finger forced out of your ass by the contractions your orgasm made.

He gave you a few more greedy licks that made you shiver before he stood, making a show out of unfastening his pants and laying his thick erection against your stomach as his shorts and briefs pooled at his ankles. He rut his cock between your folds, getting his shaft coated in slick and spit and rubbing against your over-stimulated clit. “You're so pretty like this, blissed out with my cock laying against you,” he noted, “pull your shirt up, I wanna see your tits.”

You obediently did as he asked in your post orgasm daze, squishing and kneading your tits for his enjoyment. He groaned as you pulled at your own nipples, your hips rolling to grind against his shaft on their own accord. “You want it bad, huh? Cute little bunny, horny little thing,” Wire purred, putting more force into the rutting. He took himself in his hand and pressed the head of his cock against your entrance, pushing only the tip in and stretching you out. That on its own was enough to make you whine and try to shift to take more of him. “So greedy, trying to get more already. I'm gonna have fun taking my time with you,” he teased, pulling his tip out and sinking it back in over and over, making you whine at the emptiness each time he removed himself.

“Please!” You begged, “want it, want it so bad.”

“Yeah? You want this?” He asked, suddenly sinking himself in, to what he knew was your limit, before entirely leaving you empty again, his cock rubbing against your clit. “Use your words baby.”

“Want- want your fat cock,” you whimpered, “want it splitting me open. Wanna feel you filling me, please.”

“Such a good girl,” Wire cooed, bullying his cock back inside you, but not moving any further. You only said you wanted it inside you, you never said anything about moving. Wire was a master of restraint, any of the others would have already been fucking your brains out by now, while he enjoyed watching you writhe against the table as he warmed his cock. “That feel good, baby? You like keeping my cock nice and warm?”

“Y-yes,” you whined, “feels so full, hnng. Fuck me Wire, please, please please please.”

“Well, since you asked so nicely,” he toyed, before pulling out most of the way and slamming back in, prompting a scream from you at the sudden heavy thrust. He did it over and over, pulling out slowly, then pushing in hard and fast, driving you insane as you got enough stimulation to feel incredible but never enough to sustain the building orgasm, and you got the feeling that was purposeful. Wire was only doing exactly as you asked, he was testing you, teasing you to see how far you would go to beg for it. You reached between your legs to rub your clit, but he quickly grabbed your wrists and folded them against your chest, pinning you down.

“Please,” you begged, “more, please, wanna cum on your cock so bad.”

“How bad do you want it?” Wire teased, “what are you gonna give me in return?”

“Anything!” You cried, “please, anything, please fuck me harder!”

“You're gonna let me frost your face, and you're gonna wear it for the rest of the day,” Wire growled, “you're not washing it off till bedtime. Everyone's gonna see what a little slut you are.”

“Yes! Yes!” You whined, trying and failing to fight his hold to try and fuck yourself with his cock, “please, please, please.”

“Good girl,” Wire praised, before finally committing to a hard and fast pace that had you shrieking and seeing stars. Your pussy made obscene squelches as he fucked it, Wire making grunts and tightening his grip on your arms as he used you like a cock sleeve, loving the way your pussy was already fluttering around him, so desperate to cum, choking his cock like it was desperate for him to breed you. “You gonna squirt for me, bunny? Gonna make a mess?”

“Y-yes,” you moaned, unable to escape his hold as he started to overstimulate you, making you dizzy as you felt your orgasm rushing at you. “C-cumming!” You shouted before your thighs clamped around him and shook hard, cum dripping off the side of the table and on to the rug below, some of it drenching his abdomen. His cock never stopped pumping you, the wet sounds now increased tenfold with the added lubrication while you squealed and writhed before finally stilling with a heavy pant.

“Good whore,” Wire purred, “such a good girl.” You barely heard what he was saying, practically lifeless against the table, all you could do was whimper pathetically. Wire got close to his own peak and pulled out, climbing onto the table and straddling your chest. He pumped his cock over you, pleased by the half-lidded puppy dog eyes you were giving him, too weak and fucked out to do more than lick the end of his cock or feebly suck on the tip when he pushed it between your lips. “Close your eyes sweetheart,” he cooed. No sooner had you closed them did he grunt, and you heard his palm hit the table next to your face for support as the first hot spurts of cum hit your face, aimed mostly for your lips and cheek, some of it getting in your hair. It was a large load, and you could already feel it start to drip as he panted, rolling off you to lay on the table beside you, his legs hanging over the edge while yours were folded up, feet against the edge, knees together and still shaking.

“What do you say?” He teased.

“Th-thank you,” you whined.

“Good girl,” he huffed, before surprising you with his softness as he linked his hand with yours, “you're gonna do well here, and we're gonna take good care of you.”

“Mmm,” you replied sleepily, resting your eyes for a moment and enjoying his warm hand encompassing yours. Later you would go to dinner with Wire's cum still coating your face, sitting in his lap so it was clear to everyone who's cum it was. Everyone told you how pretty you looked, and promised they'd paint you too soon.

[Next Chapter]

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[greg-gold01]

Signed in Gold

It took some courage and working up to it, but you finally decided to try your best and join a gym to get into shape. You looked online and found a listing for a new gym near you called 'Gold and Gainz Gym'.

"Join us in Gold and be the best you you can be!"

You read their motto aloud and sighed. You'd always wanted to try and better yourself, you could just never stick to it; always doubting, always worrying about other people or failing, never making any progress. Maybe this time will be different? You decided to check them out tomorrow, couldn't hurt to just see the place right?

Walking in the next day, you instinctively squint your eyes. There's gold everywhere, so much that it hurts your eyes. You walk up to the front desk and wait for a receptionist, looking around at all the guys here. They're all dressed in the exact same gold kit, all handsome, all muscular, all laughing and enjoying each other's company. You get so lost in watching them you don't notice one walking up to you.

"How can I help ya bruh?"

You jump back a bit startled, looking up at the gold adonis in front of you. Mouth going a bit dry you finally tell him

"I uh, was wondering if I could maybe, join the gym?"

You meekly ask, eyes a bit downcast. In contrast, the man's eyes lit up.

"Hell yeah bro! We're always lookin for new members. Take an application and follow to the office, we'll get ya sorted."

Taking a seat across from him in the office, he hands you an application and a golden pen.

"Gotta sign everything in gold bro, only way for it to work"

Puzzled as to why the pen would matter that much, you start reading through the application. Some basic info about yourself, couple of checkboxes, nothing crazy, until you get to the questions at the end.

Do you swear to be the best you you can be?

Do you swear to always support your Golden Bros?

Do you swear to always wear the Gold Kit with pride?

Do you swear to be a Golden Bro in mind, body, and soul?

You stare at the questions a bit incredulous before figuring it's probably just some kind of motivational thing, writing 'Yes' in response to the first question. As you finished, you feel a sudden jolt of pleasure shoot through your body. Shaking it off, you go back to the paper, not noticing that your hands seem a bit bigger and tanner now, the bro across from you watching with a knowing smile.

'Yes' to the second question. Another jolt of pleasure strong enough to almost make you drop the pen, traveling to your head and making it feel a bit fuzzy. You never really had friends, but you keep seeing images of you supporting, working out and hanging with other guys all wearing gold jerseys. As you struggle to reconcile the conflicting memories, your body begins to shift. You gain a few inches of height, a golden tan seeps across your skin, hair styling itself into an immaculate shape while stubble begins poking through your once bare skin. Blinking a few times, you still don't notice as your thoughts finally settle. Of course you've got memories of supporting your bros, why wouldn't you? Any good bro would support them, and you're a good bro aren't you?

'Yes' to the third question, and yet another jolt of pleasure. You lean back in your chair, eyes closed and mouth open as the pleasure keeps you oblivious to your changing clothes. An ill fitting t-shirt becomes a perfectly fit golden jersey, made of the most unbelievably perfect material you've ever felt. Jeans become a pair of golden workout shorts, showing off your growing bulge to go alongside them. And what workout kit is complete without some gold Nikes to go with it? Not yours for sure, as your sneakers change into a pair that wraps around your feet so nice it's like they were made just for you.

"Feels good doesn't it bro?"

The bro across from you asked still smiling. You couldn't help but agree, the kit felt so good on you you couldn't imagine taking it off, of a time when you weren't wearing it. You've always worn it right? Course you have, what golden bro wouldn't always wear their kit?

You make it to the fourth and final question, pausing for a moment. Some part of you is still fighting, still questioning what's going on. What will happen if I say yes to this? Almost sensing your hesitation, your bro gets up and moves behind you. He starts rubbing your shoulders, whispering in your ear

"Just let go bro. It feels so good to let go. To let Cap think for you. To let Gold take you over. All you need is Gold and Bros, Gold and Bros, Gold and Bros..."

As he keeps repeating it in your ear, you start to smile and say it along with him, closing your eyes in bliss as your hand automatically moves to write 'Yes' for the last time. A pleasure shoots through you so strong you almost fall out of your chair. Your body goes into overdrive, biceps inflating, ass growing, thighs thickening as every rational thought is blasted from your mind. Every thought, every memory, everything before you walked in the gym is wiped out by the Gold wave overcoming you. Your mind a flurry of the same few words over and over:

GoldCapGymBrosTeamUnityBuffDumbGoldWorkoutBrosCapGoldUnityBuffGoldTeamGoldGoldGoldGoldGoldGoldGoldGold....

Your mind, body and soul succumb completely to the Gold, becoming the perfect new bro for the Gold Team as you finally open your eyes again

"How ya feelin bro?" your new bro asks you

"Bro, feels like I just made the best choice of mah life! I feel like...like Gold!"

He laughs in response as he throws his arm around you, leading you back to the gym.

"I knew you'd love it brah. They always do after they sign in gold. Let's get ya hooked up with Cap and the rest of the bros before you start your workout eh? They're gonna love ya, trust!"

You walk arm in arm with your new bro into your new life as a Gold Team bro. Ready to be the best you you could ever be, ready to give everything for your cap and your bros. Ready to be Golden, and happy, forever.

[allzelemonz]

Bear Hugs: Bill Williamson X Male Reader

Pronouns: None mentioned, Reader referred to as ‘son’ and ‘boy’ Physical Sex: None mentioned Rating: T/Violence, language Warnings: Hugs, robbery, fluff, soft Bill Williamson, clingy Bill Summary: After Bill fails to blow up the track, Dutch yells at him. This doesn’t sit right for him and he finds himself craving comfort.

The curse slips from Bill's mouth before his brain even processes what’s happening. He swears up and down that the damn detonator was made right, the wires were set. What the hell could’ve happened? The train flies by, no nice explosion to stop it on the lack of tracks. Bills scrambles, hoisting himself onto Brown Jack and riding up to the gang.

Dutch is on him in a second. “What the living hell, Williamson!”

Bill stalls his horse, his mouth only letting out useless sounds as Dutch glares at him.

“You had one goddamn job!”

“Boss.”

Dutch’s head snaps to his right and Bill follows his gaze to you. “What, son?”

“Better that we catch up with the boys than yell at Williamson, isn’t it?”

Dutch huffs, pulling on The Count’s reins. “Keep an eye on the fool.”

The gang follows Dutch after the train and you can hear Javier yelling in the distance. Bill watches as you follow behind, keeping pace with him as Dutch told you too. He doesn’t think you look angry, but he’s been well fooled before. The whole gang’s probably mad at him.

Ahead, the train is stopped and Dutch gathers everyone around. Everything after goes smoothly and the ride back isn’t all that bad. Just teasing, everyone in too good a mood now to yell at him. Still, Bill would like to punch Micah for the snakey way he keeps bringing up the failure.

Colter welcomes them back and the horses are ushered into the stables. Bill lets himself sit with Brown Jack at the hitching posts, not wanting to have to deal with that crying O’Driscoll or the endless torment in the boys’ cabin. He sniffles and tells himself it’s just the cold making his nose run and not the warm feeling behind his eyes as he feeds his spoiled horse another peppermint. Dutch yelled at him. It’s eating him up inside to have disappointed Dutch of all people.

“You’re gonna freeze out here, dumbass.”

Bill turns his head at your voice but looks right back to Brown Jack. “If yer gonna tease me, boy, I don’t wanna hear it.”

“Just checking on you.” You say, leaning against the hitching post beside him. “Not like you to make an explosives mistake.”

“Shut up.”

“I’m not teasing, I’m saying you’re good at your job.”

Bill feels heat in his freezing cheeks. “You a suck up like Micah now?”

“I don’t think anyone’s a suck up quite like Micah.”

Bill chuckles a bit. “I’ll give ya that.”

“So… are you okay?”

Bill shrugs. “Ain’t nothin’.”

“Bullshit, tough guy.”

“I ain’t got some hurt lady feelin’s, alright!” Bill snaps.

He stares at you for a moment, trying not to let tears fall from his eyes at the feelings that are very much building up within him.

“Fine.” You scoff. “I was gonna give you a hug or something, but fine.”

As you turn to leave, Bill finds himself grabbing your arm. He doesn’t know what made his hand move but now he’s holding you and you feel warm against his hand even through your coat and you’re looking at him and you… you were gonna hug him.

Bill tugs you in close, wrapping his arms around you and hiding his face in your neck. He feels your arms wrap around him in turn, your lips lightly pressing to his head before your cold nose is tucked against his neck. Both of you just absorb one another. Bill is soft and warm and like a living pillow in your arms. He presses himself as much into you as he can, his stomach pressing against you more than anything.

“Better?” You mumble.

“Mhm.” Bill squeezes you tighter. “Don’t go tellin’ nobody.”

“Course not.”

Bill lets himself melt a little more, nuzzling your neck pulling you tighter against him. He doesn’t really want to let go, he doesn’t want it to end. He just wants to be here with you forever and forget about trains and dynamite and Dutch.

[kerokerokook]

the rebound girl: chapter two

pairing: nerd pro-gamer jeongguk x reader

word count: 25.5k wtf

warnings for this chapter: oc just goes for it, jeongguk is hot as usual, lots of kissing, finally some smut, first time, virgin jk!, subby jk! with dom! reader at first but that changes, oral (m. receiving), oral fixation, fingering, jeongguk does the lower stomach trick from tiktok (iykyk), he's a little shit but it's okay.

other tags: lots of overthinking, oc goes back and forth a whole bunch (she's confused and hurt ok), jeongguk is a giant MF green flag (obvi), vmin and 2yeon being chaotically gay ofc, some brief physics mentioned, a bit of angst, oc has been hurt in her teen years.

a/n: sorry this took 9 million years but ya girl just got into her masters program!! hopefully, i can update this once/twice a month? maybe even more but, that's the plan!

enjoy :)

<3 mal

original post

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

The first day of school hit you in the face like a speeding fourteen-wheel truck. 

Okay, that’s a bit of an exaggeration because you’ve known the date since the beginning of summer break but time flew by so quickly that you couldn’t believe September was starting and another school year was too. 

Soon, you’ll graduate and get a job and move on from all of the shit you’ve gone through to become a whole adult. It’s terrifying yet exciting all at once. 

Fortunately, you picked out your outfit last night: baggy blue jeans, a white cropped tank top and an oversized black corduroy button up shirt. It’s simple and comfy which you always prefer for school outfits. Simple gold jewelry sits on your neck and in your ears and you keep your hair back with a clear claw clip. You keep your makeup light, being that you’ll be back home in a few hours where you’ll just slip back into your pajamas and do nothing for the rest of the day.

While packing your things, you make sure to tuck Jeongguk’s t-shirt that you’ve washed and his umbrella into your backpack, then give Snowball her last few pets for the day while checking her food and water bowl. 

“I’ll be back in a few hours cutie,” you coo, scratching underneath her chin. Her head tilts up, a content smile on her cute face, eyes shut while pushing into your touch.

Adopting Snowball sort of just happened. You were lonely last Winter break after a guy you met in your Economic Growth Seminar had moved on and your mom was talking about how your neighbor’s cat just had a litter of kittens. Thankfully, your landlord was okay with pets and boom, there was a little fluff ball making your day better little by little. After a long day, there was nothing you liked doing more than stroking her soft fur and listening to music or throwing a movie on while she purrs right next to you. She’s a great comfort to you and your friends love her too.

Tearfully, you rip yourself away from your little baby and step outside of your comfortable apartment. The hallway is empty at this time. Your building has mostly college students and a few bachelors and bachelorettes here and there so it’s surprising that no one else is walking out at the same time as you. But that’s fine. No polite greetings necessary. You put your headphones in, play some music and begin your trek to school. 

Living one subway ride away from university is a privilege. It never takes you that long to get to class and it’s easy to get back home. It’s the best thing about living here. 

Plus in the springtime, the blossoms decorate the streets with little pink petals and it’s a sight to see. 

On the way down the subway steps, you check your schedule once more just to be sure of your class load today. You have a 9am lecture, then an 11:30am lecture and then a discussion at 1:45 but those only start the second week of school every Monday, Wednesday and Friday. On Tuesdays and Thursdays, you have classes from 8am-3pm which sounds like ass now that you think about it. 

Fuck, were you drunk when you selected these courses? 

You shake your head. Whatever, not like there’s much you can do now, right? At least you’ll be busy so less time to mess around. 

Your walk down the steps continues and you shove your phone into your jean pocket as you rush over to make the train before your first class, taking out your metro-card.

After dodging some lethargic businessmen and starstruck tourists, you manage to reach the train with a few seconds to spare. There’s a towards the back so you quickly walk over and grab the handle when there’s a vibration against your ass. 

Confused, you pull your phone out. It’s probably a tiktok sent to you by Jeongyeon of a cat with a funny filter on or something but the screen shows the message icon and you use FaceID to unlock your phone to see who the sender was.

It’s a text from Jeongguk. 

jeon jeongguk

hey

do you want to give me the stuff outside the engineering building?

maybe around 1? 

by stuff i mean my shirt and umbrella

You smile to yourself. The fact that he felt the need to explain what he meant by stuff is unbelievably adorable to you. 

me 

sure, i’ll be there :) 

You almost wonder what Jeongguk’s schedule is like but you stop yourself quickly. You tried to not to think too much about him on Sunday when you got back. It was enough that his sweet smelling shirt was on your body and you still had the lingering imprint of his hug on your skin but now that you know he  goes to the same school, you’ll become more interested and you can’t. Jeongguk isn’t going to be the next boy to occupy your mind. 

This year is going to be different. You won’t be the rebound girl anymore, you won’t sleep with guys from your school, and you won’t give in. 

After everything that went down with Wooshik, it’s just better for you to distance yourself from this stupid label of rebound girl. It’s done nothing but hurt you and worsen your relationship with the people in your department. First year you were hanging out and eating with them and now all you have are Nayeon and Jeongyeon. Not that you don’t like them but you just hate what being the rebound girl has done to your college life.

Your mother used to say your college years are your prime years to be young and stupid and learn about life. 

But college is nothing special to you. The classes are harder, people are smarter, meaner, better, and all you can do is push yourself to do the best that you can. Sometimes it’s enough, sometimes it isn’t. Your friends are great and you’ve made some good memories, but so far, college isn’t that coming-of-age life lesson that your mother always talked about. 

You’re not particularly upset about it. You just wished you could do more. Live your life without eyes all over you and whispers at every mistake. 

As the train lets you off at your spot, you make sure to triple check your schedule for the day so you know where you’re going after your first class. 

9am is your Macroeconomics lecture in the Economics building which is fine. Your professor is nice and the class seems interesting enough that you know you’ll do well. Mostly test based which won’t be a problem because economics is your thing. You’ve been studying it diligently for three years now so you can confidently say that. 

But 11:30 is your worst nightmare: physics. 

This is all your fault. Nayeon told you to get all of your general education requirements out of the way quickly your first and second year so that you wouldn’t have to worry about them later but you didn’t listen. 

Look, science is simply not your thing. High school courses were hell on earth thanks to your asshole of a Chemistry teacher. You managed to gaslight yourself into thinking math was easy enough as long as you studied like a mad person and got those requirements out of the way but science is hell on earth for you. Your university requires one life science and two physical sciences. Life science was an easy choice: zoology. You got to learn about cute animals and watch videos about them. First semester of your first year was easy. 

Then you decided to take Geology for physical science during your second semester. It sounded easy but memorizing all of those different rock formations was starting to wear you out from the inside. Somehow you managed a B. And after that, it was either meteorology, astronomy, or some form of physics since every other course required you to be enrolled in the Physical Sciences department or have some prerequisite that you didn’t want to take. None of the options sounded appealing to you so you put it off until now. Then, when the realization hit that you had only one more year after this to make up for all of those credits, you decided astronomy might be the best choice after reading some professor reviews. 

Only for you to sleep through registration and wake up in a frenzy to find the class completely full. 

Yeah, you almost started crying.

So physics it was and, how wonderful, the only class available was with an unlikeable teacher that has a horrible rating. Amazing. 

Panic floods your system as you walk into the large lecture hall. You aim for a seat in the middle, take out your supplies, and start diligently listening. Your professor is a stout, sad, little man who is trying to improve his professor score online so thankfully, he says he’s going to be more lenient when it comes to tests but demands that homework be turned in on time otherwise points will be deducted. Fair enough. You could do that. 

But then he starts going into course material. 

Energy; alright. 

Motion; cool. 

Thermodynamics; okay.

Optics; excuse me?

Electromagnetism; sound the alarms. 

This class is going to kill you. Even if it’s Physics 1 and your class is filled with mostly underclassmen, you know you won’t grasp the concepts easily with all of your other classes weighing down on your head. There’s so much to do and so little time to do it all. 

“.. previous students of mine have so graciously offered tutoring hours so if any of you are confused, I highly recommend meeting up with them and going over concepts. They have taken my tests before so they know what to expect. It is the best way to ensure you do well.”

Most of the students behind you have gone to sleep or started scrolling through their phones but you have a lightbulb moment. 

Perfect, okay. All you have to do is check the list of tutors online and schedule appointments with them. Shouldn’t be that bad.  Another thing to be strict about. 

This is just what you wanted: a tight enough schedule to keep you too busy to think about anything else.

Once class is over, you pack all of your things and check your phone once more. Jeongguk said he’d be outside the engineering building which is close to the physical sciences building. The time reads 12:50pm so you have some time to make your way outside. 

So far, the first day has ended and it’s gone pretty well. You’ll go back home, create a strict study table on your Notion, rent all of your books and then relax for the rest of the day. Then the rest of this week should be smooth sailing as you get into the groove with your new professors. Nayeon and Jeongyeon are going to meet you at your place for home-cooked dinner this Friday( a little first week back tradition) which you’re excited for.  You should look up some recipes and make sure Nayeon stays out of your kitchen so she won’t blow anything up. That girl is incapable of not making a disaster in the kitchen. 

You sigh through your nose, studying the sights you see on campus. Various students walking in small triplets or duos. The occasional lone wolf with headphones on to block out the world. Some clubs are putting up posters or setting up tables to grab first years as they explore campus. The path that is currently running outside the STEM buildings break off into various courtyards and cafes where students of all departments come to chill or cut through to go to their other classes. 

It’s about to be a great scenic walk just until you run into Wooshik and his buddies as they’re exiting a café with drinks in their hands. 

Kill me now. 

You pause like a deer in headlights when you make eye contact with him, stopping midway so your lips can part as your entire body goes stuff. 

Now, more than anything, you really wish you were walking with someone. 

“Hey,” Wooshik forces out, crossing his arms over his chest. His polo shirt is open enough to show a random cluster of dark hickeys from the middle of his throat to the beginning of his chest. Real subtle. 

Before seeing that, you were thinking about apologizing but now, not so much. 

“Hi,” your tone is short. You can feel eyes dance over your body, the swell of your breasts and the sliver of skin revealed between your crop top and pants from one of his creepy pals behind him and you have half a mind to kick him in the balls. 

Wooshik’s eyes bounce back and he juts his face forward like he’s waiting for you to say something to him but you keep your lips perfectly sealed. If he wants an apology, he can wait until he’s dead. His other friends exchange weird looks at the lack of conversation going on between you two, probably wondering if this standoff is going to linger forever. 

It makes you wonder what Wooshik told them. 

Guys love having their ego fluffed. If they get rejected by a girl, they’ll tell their best friends that she was an ugly slut or they’ll flip the story to say that they rejected her to save face. The last thing they want their friends to know is that a girl rejected them. It dims their coolness. However, you really don’t give a fuck about Wooshik looking cool in front of his boys. If anything, you revel in the cutting deflation he’ll feel when you tell them the truth. 

“Did you get the wine out of your shirt?” You ask innocently. “I should’ve aimed it more towards your face and less towards your clothes.” Shrugging, a satisfied smile grows on your lips. 

Wooshik’s ears turn red. “I–” he cuts eye contact as his friends snicker behind him. You watch in satisfaction as his expression changes from surprised to annoyed to angry. “You know what, fuck you. You ruined my shirt. I had to take that hot waitress back to my place instead of a hotel so I didn’t reek of wine.”  

You scoff immediately. “Damn and I was trying to do her a favor. But congrats, looks like you got your tiny dick wet for two minutes.” You start to clap. One of his friends chokes back a splutter of laughter at the jab. 

Wooshik wasn’t anything amazing but you sort of expected that. Most of your hookups are satisfactory. They get the job done and they give up. As stupid as it sounds, you’ve always gone above and beyond to pleasure someone. There’s something amazing about making your partner feel good but most men see sex in a selfish lens. 

For most guys, sex means sticking their dick in and sloshing it around a few times until they feel good. Boom, sex over. 

Now, if they want to make you feel good, it still won’t be about you. Orgasms are like points. They don’t get off on your pleasure but more on the fact that they’re so amazing at sex that you experienced pleasure. Another way to fluff their egos. 

For once, you’d wish for a guy to actually care about you and your pleasure in an unselfish way, the same way you do for them. 

Wooshik stumbles for a moment but he jumps back quickly to get you too. Especially with all of his boys watching. 

“You didn’t seem to complain about it at first. What, changed your mind because I didn’t want you anymore?” 

Oh, please. A plastic vibrator has done more for you than he ever will. 

You laugh sardonically. “No, I just felt bad for you.” You say it wholeheartedly and it's the most truthful you’ve ever been with him. 

His friends then burst into giggles and snickers, shoving him around when he fails to retort, left dumbfounded by the sheer audacity of you but you don’t care. You don’t get to see the look on Wooshik’s face but you don’t care. The laughter is your cue to leave him. 

 That chapter of your life is over now and you won’t ever have to deal with him again. The last man you’ll let trample all over you the minute you show them some sympathy. 

All you can hope is that the pesky nickname that’s been poisoning you since your first year college can fade away into obscurity forever and ever. 

Then, you can just be you. No label, no nickname, no reputation. Just a regular college senior. 

The walk to the engineering building is lighter now. You feel like one of the falling petals gently flying through the sky from the branch down to the ground. A new journey begins and you can’t wait for it. 

After another minute of walking, you reach the engineering building. Painted a soft brown with tons of posters and clubs waiting to talk to students. You dodge all of them to head inside where Jeongguk is waiting by a random classroom. You navigate through the crowd until you finally locate a  mop of gorgeous dark hair and bright clear eyes. 

He’s facing his phone screen, one leg crossed over the other, but you’re still mesmerized by him. Beauty is in simplicity but with a face like that, Jeongguk could wear a burlap sack and make it work. But currently, he’s dressed in baggy gray cargos and a dark blue long-sleeve shirt with some brand name logo on it. The urge to sigh like a satisfied cartoon character is intense. 

You hate and love it at the same time. How on earth can he look so boyfriend without trying? 

“Hey, Jeongguk,” you call softly, taking short strides towards him, hoping that your hair looks good and not like a frizzy mess from the wind. 

His head pops up, glimmering eyes like two black pools of water gazing back at you. Then a soft grin forms on his lips, skin creasing, dimpling, and cute. 

“Hey.” Jeongguk tucks his phone into his pants pocket. His perfume wafts over to you the moment he moves, welcoming you like a warm hug after a long day. 

You want to bury your nose in it and never forget the smell. 

“Sorry, I got caught up with something on the way here. Were you waiting for a while?”

“Nah, I’ve been here for like two minutes. Did you bring it?” He adjusts his bag for a moment. 

“Yep.” You hand him the shirt, neatly folded and smelling of your fabric softener, along with the umbrella tied. “All clean.” A cute smile grows on his face as he gently takes the items and puts it in his bag, humming excitedly under his breath which makes your entire body warm. “Listen, are you off for the rest of the day?” 

“Yeah, I have all morning classes on Mondays and Wednesdays. You?”  

“Same and it just so happens that I needed a walking buddy to the subway station.”  You take the first step towards the exit when he agrees with a short chuckle and a nod. Your apartment building is one stop away while Jeongguk is about four stops away so you won’t get to talk much but the sentiment is what matters. 

Plus, all you really want is to be close to him and his family again. There was a real bond going on when you were young and now you’ve been handed a golden chance to reignite that spark. 

Fresh air fills your lungs while your ears pick up on the sounds of fading conversations, the smell of food and new school supplies greets your nose. You have yet to reach the economics building, where more people know you, so people here aren’t staring just yet. They’re preoccupied with their own lives and you want to appreciate it for a little longer. 

“By the way, thanks for Saturday. I’m sure dealing with five drunk weirdos must’ve been annoying,” you add. 

You barely remember the words coming out of your mouth. It was a slew of garbled song lyrics, high thoughts and giggles and that’s the best you can do. There’s no way Jeongguk was walking out of the night sane.  

He huffs out a laugh and then shakes his hair out of his eyes in a very attractive manner. “It was… well, it was something, I’ll tell you that much. But you don’t have to apologize. I don’t mind.” Then Jeongguk looks at you with his chin tilted down, lids low, almost glazed over like he’s checking you out but his gaze just dances over the features of your face. 

You get incredibly shy with him staring at you like that. 

Let’s hope you aren’t turning tomato red right now. 

“Jimin and Tae go out a lot so I’m used to making sure they don’t, like, die.” 

Jeongguk is like Jeongyeon in that sense. Always taking care of people and making sure they are safe in bed before worrying about themselves. Sometimes, she forgets that she’s allowed to have fun and let loose too and you don’t want Jeongguk to fall into the same mindset. Being the caretaker all the time can be draining. 

“I mean, it’s your birthday and the rest of us were getting fucked up. Usually, it’s the other way around.” 

Your 20th was nothing short of a hot mess. Nayeon snuck in bottles she got her older brother to buy and you tried to take a shot from every single type he brought. Whiskey, vodka, soju, sake, and beer. Safe to say, that was a rookie mistake that ended up hunched over a toilet bowl  for almost an hour. Nayeon held your hair while Jeongyeon ordered just enough carbs and hangover soup to make it all better. 

But it was a memory you hold dear to you because it was one of the last moments you felt like it was okay for you to be a stupid teenager and make a mistake.

Jeongguk didn’t get that moment and you want him to because that sloppy behavior won’t be cute when he’s in his late 20s or early 30s. 

“I didn’t want to,” he shrugs simply. “Drinking is sorta fun but I don’t love it and I never let myself get super drunk.” You want to ask why but Jeongguk continues speaking. “But we had cake and barbecue before coming to the club and my parents sent a care package, so it was a good birthday. Taking care of you guys didn’t ruin everything.” 

You relent a little. Perceptions of fun are different after all and maybe, for Jeongguk, he got exactly what he wanted so he isn’t complaining. The residual guilt fades slowly inside of you.

“As long as you enjoyed your birthday,” you sigh, a wave of something sentimental coming over you causes your heels to raise up so you can be tall enough to ruffle his fluffy perfect hair. The same boy who only dressed in Pokémon shirts is now legal, old enough to do whatever he wants, and you’re starting to feel a little soft about it. “Can’t believe you’re twenty!” You squeal. “You’re all grown up!” 

Jeongguk cringes, turning away from your constant pinches and prods and whining as a few eyes drift towards the two of you. His ears get the tiniest bit red but he doesn’t scold you so you continue teasing him. 

“Remember when you used to hand draw all of my birthday cards with little cartoons and you and Eunchae would come with my mom and I to look at all of the cakes at the store?”

The filmstrip of memories is painfully nostalgic. That one nice cake store a few streets away from your apartment building that made the best cakes. If you close your eyes, you can smell the sugary air as you walk in, a tinkling bell on the door to let the owners know someone was there, and the various cakes put in the display case. You always got the fudgiest chocolate cake with bright red strawberries on top. Your mom could only afford the small size but that was fine. You just wanted a cake. 

Jeongguk would come with you and press his face to the glass in complete awe. Sometimes, the three of you would pretend like you were rich people who got to buy big cakes whenever they pleased and you’d pick the biggest sizes of your favorite flavors. 

You always got chocolate, Jeongguk got some sort of fruit while Eunchae would get red velvet and you would dream of the day when you had enough money to indulge yourself on a whim. . 

Then, when Jeongguk’s mom opened up her bakery, she began making your birthday cakes so the three of you sort of got your wish but those were free. Made with love and compassion until you moved too far to feel it. 

“You still remember all of that?” He asks. The stone pathway turns. A signal that the economics building is getting closer by the second. 

Trying not to think about it, you answer him. “Of course, why wouldn’t I?” You’ve always had impeccable memory but you treasured every second of your childhood. 

Because your later teens, in Seoul and away from all that you knew, were terrible. 

“I barely remembered what I ate yesterday,” Jeongguk laughs, staring over at you. “That’s pretty impressive.” 

“You think so?” You turn to look at him when you feel his eyes linger for longer than usual. His stare isn’t piercing but it leaves a viable imprint on your skin like a thick layer of lotion. “What?” You get self-conscious. Is there something in your hair? Did a bird shit on you without you noticing? 

“I like your hair,” Jeongguk says after a moment, pointing to the clear clip holding all of your hair up. 

A few of the shorter strands come out from the tight hold with time, framing your face, while the rest remain bunched up with a large claw clip. It’s such an effortless look. This morning you were too lazy to fully style your hair with a hair dryer and a brush after spending too much time on it for your sham date with Wooshik. It’s starting to get a little greasy so you plan to wash it tomorrow but this is your go-to dirty hair look. 

“Oh, thanks.” A goofy grin nearly breaks out onto your face but you stop it halfway. “I like your earrings.” You want to return Jeongguk’s compliment with one of your own. Your pointer finger runs through the three thick hoops like a wind chime, causing Jeongguk’s shoulder to rise up thanks to the ticklish sensation, getting shy. “How on earth did your mom allow all of these piercings?” 

Mrs. Jeon lost her shit when a 14-year-old you greeted her with a second hole in your ears when she was coming home from the grocery store.  An upperclassman offered to pierce everyone’s ears using the nurses supplies in exchange for cigarettes or candy from a nearby convenience store. Since she was your guardian for the day while your mom was out for a certification exam, she felt irresponsible but you assured her that your mom was okay with it. 

Well, she had no idea at the time but you knew she’d get over it at some point. It was a second ear piercing, not like you got a tattoo on your forehead. 

“These were all presents, actually.” Your fingers brush the back of his palm as you get closer to the economics building at the end of the road, a little before the sidewalk down the main road begins, as your dread multiplies. “I learned that from you. Convinced mom and dad that my good grades warranted some award and they had no choice but to say yes.”

A dangerously familiar feeling mixed with pride courses through your veins like the newest drug. Jeongguk says he doesn’t remember much but he manages to reach in and pull out a sickly sweet memory from your childhood that has your insides turning into mush. You almost want to wrap your arms around your stomach to get it to stop flipping so much. 

You didn’t ask for much as a kid. Growing up you knew that money was tight so expensive things like the best console or brand name clothes were simply out of the question. But you liked to barter with your mom for more simple things. A good grade for ice cream or a day at the beach or a trip to the bookstore to buy a manga edition you’ve been waiting to read. 

It wasn’t all the time but when you felt like you wanted to celebrate yourself. You earned it after all. 

Then you got a little older and you wanted to become like the cool older girls you went to school with. So you dropped ice cream for piercings, nail polish, and CDs from all of the new idol groups that were popular at the time. Your mom was frugal of course, most of your stuff was cheap from the local dollar store or second hand markets, but she loved to treat you. She wished she could spoil you one day, buy you everything you could lay your eyes on, however the universe didn’t allow her to do that. 

She still can’t but that’s okay. You’re glad you didn’t grow up a spoiled brat. That you learned humility and patience and empathy because it’s those traits that set you apart from most of your classmates. 

“I taught you well.” Fingers itching to flick his chin, you hold back. You don’t want to make him uncomfortable with all of the touching. 

Jeongguk hums. “Got these and these,” he turns his head to the other side to show you almost five studs in his ear, “after my class rank and CSAT score came out.”  

“Didn’t that hurt?” 

You do your best to keep your eyes either on the ground or on Jeongguk as the almighty building comes into view. Despite the heavy beating in your chest, your inner turmoil shouldn’t be obvious. 

Jeongguk doesn’t need to know about your problems. Those are yours and yours alone. 

“Yeah but it wasn’t unbearable. I swear, Eunchae almost passed out when she got her doubles. She hates needles.” 

You laugh. “I remember. Your sister was freaking out when we were all getting our vaccines because she literally slithered down onto the floor the moment she saw the thing.” 

Jeongguk hums. There’s a small break in the conversation as the two of you pass by a huge yet short wave crowd of people who are either rushing to the cafeteria or to their next class but even through all of that, you can feel eyes all over the two of your backs. Especially yours. 

Your department members linger by the vending machines and smoking areas in little judgmental pods,  whispering about you amongst themselves. 

You can predict what they’re saying. 

There she goes again, latching onto another guy after Wooshik dumped her poor pathetic ass. 

Will she ever learn? 

Poor thing. He probably doesn’t know that he’s dealing with the campus whore. 

That word. That one word, repeats in your mind. Whore, whore, whore. That’s all you’ll ever be to them. 

Fear sets in. What will they say about Jeongguk? Will he get teased? Will he find out about your reputation and want nothing to do with you afterwards? No, the last thing you want is for him to get tangled in all of this. He shouldn’t have to deal with all of this. Know about all of the things people whisper about you when they think you aren’t listening.

At some point, he’ll find out. No matter how hard you try to hide it, push it down, pretend everything is okay, Jeongguk will come to know what everyone thinks of you and all of the nasty vitriol they throw your way. 

And when he does, you’re going to have to learn to let go of whatever you two have right now and whatever builds in your heart until all you have left to cling to Jeongguk are the sweet memories of your life in Busan. 

Because that’s how it goes for you. 

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

Jeongguk stumbles into his apartment and throws his backpack onto his gaming chair, quickly calculating the amount of free time he has right now. 

 He has a group match in about two hours for League of Legends and he plans on canceling on them since he had to wake up early today. Jeongguk’s sleep schedule was fucked up all summer and suddenly, waking up at 6am instead of going to bed around then was quite literally torture. 

There’s no guilt when Jeongguk texts them. He doesn’t owe his teammates anything, not like he’s joined a real league anyways. He has other priorities. 

Now that he’s a student again, his sleep schedule sort of matters. His mother would cry learning about the absolute buffoonery he was committing over summer session with his new league he met online. Playing various games until the sun was peeking through his blinds and then ordering breakfast from McDonald’s while entering another battle. Usually that would entice him but all he feels is exhaustion. 

Most of it is from lugging his heavy ass backpack around all day in the sun. Some of it is still from this weekend. There’s a reason Jeongguk isn’t an avid partier. 

Quickly, he throws whatever pre-packaged dish he bought into the microwave and changes out of his school clothes into some sweatpants and a different shirt. All part of his usual after school routine. Then he carefully takes the steaming plate out once it’s done and sets it on the counter to cool before going to the bathroom to wash his hands. 

As he walks through his hall, something presses into the soles of his feet. It’s soft but flexible and round with a hard plastic bit strung onto it that digs into his skin.

“Ouch!” He stops midway, moving his foot and staring at the mystery item. Jeongguk’s eyebrows furrow at first. 

It looks like one of Taehyung’s many charm bracelets that he buys from those street vendors in Hongdae with the cute little charms around colored string. Jeongguk has one from him ( a black string with a baby pink bunny charm that he wears every now and then). The idiot probably dropped it while singing karaoke or doing his Scarface impersonation to make Jimin laugh. Jeongguk takes his phone out to text the guy but he realizes that Taehyung hasn’t been to his apartment in a few days. 

The only other person that has been here was… you. 

He bends down to look at the bracelet. Were you wearing one that night? Your bracelets didn't look like this. They were metal, not string. Jeongguk bends at the knees and picks it up. The string is elastic and stretchy but loose enough to fit around his wrist if needed. 

Oh, it’s a hair tie. 

You must’ve dropped it when you slept over. Jeongguk turns the thing around to see the charm. The elastic itself is plain black but the charm seems to be some Sanrio character that he recognizes but cannot remember the name of.

Hello Kitty? No, he knows her and she doesn’t look like this. 

Cinnamoroll? No, that’s a puppy. This is some weird purple looking thing. 

My Melody? Maybe. 

Fuck, he doesn’t have time to worry about this. Jeongguk shoves the damn thing in his pocket, makes a mental reminder to text you about it after eating lunch, and goes to quickly wash his hands. His fingers push the door open to his bathroom. Clean white tiles, the scent diffuser smelling of white musk, and his TMNT towel drying on the rack. 

Jeongguk looks up at himself in the mirror. His eyes are sunken in and a little swollen from the lack of sleep. His stomach rumbles as he lathers his hands in his fresh cotton hand soap. 

But all he can think about is you on that night. 

Saturday Night. 

The night felt never-ending. 

Jeongguk was doing his best to get everyone in a car ride home safely after song after song on the dance floor but he was getting a little overwhelmed with all that was thrown onto him in the span of a few short minutes when Nayeon decided she wanted to go home.

Laughing, tripping, complaining about vomiting, a smell coming from some random spot that’s making someone nauseous, Jeongguk felt like a parent trying to get their kids together. His phone was glued to his hands to call cabs and type in addresses while making sure the five of you didn’t wander off into the unknown without his supervision. 

Thankfully, one of your friends managed to usher the other into a cab and Jimin was able to shove a whiny Taehyung into the one Jeongguk had ordered so now all he had left was you. 

Drunk you was something else. Stuck onto him like a second layer, arms twined tightly around his waist, mumbling about something random while stumbling over every step. Jeongguk had half a mind to just pick you up and walk to where the guy had parked but he didn’t want to make your nausea even worse by swinging you around.  

“Wait! Jeongguk, I can’t find my phone, we have to go back,” you whined, tugging on his arm with one hand. “I-I can’t–hiccup–I can’t live without my-my phone!”

You were clutching your phone in your other hand. 

He sighed. “You’re holding it,” motioning to the device pressed into your fingers. “Come on, the cab is parked there.” The yellow thing looked like something descending from the heavens while the driver finished the last of his cigarette and belched loud enough for Jeongguk to hear. 

“Are you sure?”

“Yes.”

“Are you really sure?”

“Yes.” 

“Okay, I trust you.” You mumbles, hugging him close like he was a large pillow. 

The next few minutes passed by a bit quicker as you let Jeongguk help you into the car and started on your way back to his apartment since you and your friends were incapable of remembering your address. 

He leaned against the tough upholstery as the car began moving. Muscles tight and tired. Jeongguk felt the rivulets of sweat dripping down on his neck which he quickly wiped off and onto his pants, something he usually doesn't do but he’s at the state of not really giving a fuck about clothes he’s going to wash anyways. His body bobbles with a shaky turn and somehow, your limp body ends up pressed into his side, head leaning on his chest while a muffled groan leaves your painted lips.

“Ah s-sorry,” you slurred, attempting to sit up by placing a hand on Jeongguk’s mid-thigh. “I forgot to put on my belt.”  Your perfume flowed to him, a soft clean scent, maybe a bit sucrose when mixed with the scent of your shampoo. 

“Oh, the belt is finicky on that side, ma’am.” The driver informs. He meets both of your eyes in the rearview mirror. “It’s okay. Lean on your boyfriend for the rest of the drive. Should only take a few more minutes!” 

Jeongguk opens his mouth to correct but you interrupt him with a giggle. His head switches to you, mouth covered, skin dimpling. “Boyfriend.” You repeat. 

The driver plays along, most likely very confused, just like Jeongguk. “You two make a lovely couple.”

That next statement makes you giggle a little more. Jeongguk wants to know what is so funny about this cab driver assuming the two of you are dating. Do you find the hypothetical to be so insanely outrageous that it’s hilarious?  Should he even bother asking or should he let it go to save himself the pain from hearing your brazenly honest answer?

Jeongguk chooses to ignore it. He knows another turn is coming up so he raises his left arm and nudges you closer to rest on him comfortably. That same arm circles around your shoulders and the top of your head tickles the bottom of Jeongguk’s nose. You’re warm and comforting after a long night, bringing up a slew of feelings he’s been pushing down for years at this point. 

Still mumbling to yourself, you become distracted with the jewelry on Jeongguk’s hand so you don’t hear the questions that the cab driver throws your way. 

“How long have you two been dating?” He asks, turning down the late night radio station playing old hits. 

Jeongguk just goes along with it. “It’s-uh-very recent, sir.” A four hour relationship to be exact. “But I’ve known her since we were kids.” 

“How cute! My wife and I only dated for a few months before I proposed, you know,” he proclaims proudly, shoulders broadening. Jeongguk nods and fakes a grin in hopes that the conversation ends here. 

Jeongguk wants to laugh. Marriage? 

He’s never even been in a relationship before. He’s barely gone past kissing someone for longer than two minutes. With the way things are going, Jeongguk will probably live his life exactly like Steve Carell in the movie The 40-year-old Virgin only there’s no way he’ll get a happy ending. 

The cab driver laughs to himself when he sees the look on Jeongguk's face before turning the music back up. You’ve successfully knocked out on Jeongguk’s chest so you miss the faint redness creeping up his neck and to his ears but it’s not something he wants you to see either. His brain zeros in on his own pathetic state of affairs. 

He’s always prided himself on his emotional maturity for someone so young but romantically? Horrendous. 

Jeongguk has always stood behind the belief that he simply isn’t meant to be in a relationship with anyone. Sometimes he can be too shy, too closed off, and people don’t gravitate towards people like that. They want someone who can be openly affectionate after a few conversations and Jeongguk simply isn’t the type. The only reason why he has friends like Taehyung and Jimin is because they made an effort to get to know him at his pace. It’s the same with you, who was older and a girl but you still made the effort to invite Jeongguk to watch Barbie movies or search for coins to get the cheapest candy at the convenience store. People usually don’t care after he brushes them off a few times but you did, Taehyung and Jimin did, and Jeongguk gets all fuzzy inside. 

Would he ever find someone like you three again? Would he ever be so lucky? Probably not. 

He looks over at your face smushed against his chest, playing with the zipper of his jacket. You’re so pretty, always have been, always will be, like a rare flower. Even after all of this time, he’s so taken aback by how effortlessly beautiful you are; on the outside and the inside. The way your hair falls delicately over your face, cheeks puffed, lips puckered; the way your shirt gives you an angelic look and your necklace lies perfectly in the middle of your collarbones. 

It’s enticing. Jeongguk can’t take his eyes off of you. He never could. 

Fuck, this random reunion might do more harm than good if Jeongguk doesn’t learn to control himself. This isn’t the time to reawaken old feelings that he pushed down for a good reason. 

Once the cab stops in front of his apartment building, Jeongguk pays him and then helps you out of the car. Body limp and slippery like slinky. 

“No, I forgot how to walk,” you mumbled, leaning against one of the pillars outside the building to keep yourself up straight. “Can’t I just sleep here? It’s comfortable.”

“That’s a concrete pillar.” Jeongguk runs a hand through his slightly dampened hair. “Come on, there’s an elevator and I don’t live too high up. You’ll sleep better on my bed.” 

A pout grows stronger on your face, a few streaks of something black collecting in the corner of your eyes and your lipstick is smeared a little but Jeongguk still finds you so put together and exquisite. Still like that rare flower on top of a mountain peak; beautiful yet impossible to reach. 

“Fine.” You peel yourself off the pillar. “But if you’re lying to me, I’m gonna pinch those cute little cheeks right off your face.” Squishing his flesh momentarily before dropping your hands, Jeongguk blinks a few times in shock. 

Focus, Jeon. She needs to rest. 

Getting you inside is easier than he thought. The promise of the elevator and a warm bed with some water turned you much more docile. But you’re still enamored by his rings which you slip on and off his fingers as the elevator beeps. Then, Jeongguk slips off your shoes and tells you to wait by the kitchen counter while he rifles through his things, handing you a shirt and directing you to the bathroom.

A loud sigh escapes his lips once he’s all alone. Jeongguk has about ten seconds to change himself. He’s been in these tight jeans that squeeze his legs like anything. Maybe he shouldn’t have gone so hard in the gym over the summer. Now most of his old clothes don’t fit him as well as they used to. 

Quickly, he throws on his pajamas just as you emerge from the bathroom and hum a random song from tonight. 

Then, he helps you into bed, groaning out at the soreness in his muscles from all of the lifting he’s been doing today.  You don’t fight back too much, clearly worn out, so you sink into the soft padding easily like a little kitten. He throws the blankets over you, does a quick check to see if you’re okay, and then gets into his own makeshift bed made out of a thin mattress and a set of sheets. 

It’s not nearly as comfortable as his own bed and his back might be mad at him tomorrow but it’ll do for now. 

Just as Jeongguk is beginning to fall into deep sleep, he hears you rusting around, mumbling under your breath about something. Your hands push yourself up on your elbows. For a second, he thinks you’re going to throw up so he gets up quickly and makes his way to his kitchen to grab a plastic bag. 

But you start speaking louder. 

“I can’t believe you, Seojoon.” Your hair sticks out from every corner as you flop back down, lips bloated and pouty, slapping around the comforter and pointing to no one. “I hate you.” Jeongguk’s eyebrow raises, pausing in the middle of his kitchen to decipher what on earth you are talking about.

Clearly, you’re having a nightmare. Jeongguk takes quiet steps back to his spot on the floor in order to avoid that one squeaky 

“You cheated on me with Somin, didn’t you? You bastard. You told me you loved me,” whining, your body twists around. “Why else would I let you fuck me?” 

Jeongguk reels his brain back to stop the curious sympathy right there. He doesn’t want to prod further into this bad dream involving a fight with an ex of some sort. It’s none of his business and clearly this wasn’t meant for him to hear. All he does care about is if you’re going to vomit or not. 

He calls your name. “Are you okay?” Jeongguk whispers. 

You don’t respond. Instead, your face twists in discomfort as you continue to mumble into his mattress and writhe around. 

Jeongguk grows increasingly worried. He doesn’t want you to choke or anything of the sort while he’s deep in REM. Slowly, he gets down on his knees to get a closer look at you tossing and turning.  

“It hurts so much.” 

Jeongguk gently places a hand on your arm, saying your name softly so you don’t wake up. “Hey, you okay? Do you want water?” You twist away from his touch at first. “It’s me, it’s me, it’s Jeongguk,” reminding you as your lids barely part. He thinks you register him, that maybe you’re somewhat awake right now as you begin to curl forward. 

But then your hands clasp Jeongguk’s arms tightly, restricting his every move. 

“You’re going to leave me, aren’t you?” Your voice slurs, the tip of your nose meeting the fabric of his shirt, fingers digging into the flesh hard enough to leave indents. 

Nothing but confusion clouds Jeongguk’s brain. What are you talking about? 

“You told me you loved me. What? Don’t you want me anymore?”  

Tightening around him, you bury your face into his neck again. Your arms begin to raise, wrap around his shoulders to bring your body closer to his rigid frame. Jeongguk feels wetness from your eyes begin to drip onto his skin, dampening his shirt.

“Just do it then. Just leave me. No one ever sticks around anyways. Guys always leave me the moment something new comes along. Every single one,” you enunciate, vibrating into him, crying softly. “You don’t even care about how much you hurt me. No one cares.” 

Jeongguk is paralyzed under your hold as your tears start to roll down. Your sobs are loud and erratic and painful, as if all of this hurt has building until you eventually couldn’t hold onto it anymore. That it took alcohol and a long night to wedge it out of you. 

It’s contradictory; holding him tight and telling him to leave you.

But he doesn’t push you away and he doesn't let go. Jeongguk lets you grip onto him for safety because he’s terrified that removing his touch could break you even further. 

 He doesn’t know what is happening in your dream to make you behave like this, he doesn’t know what made the previous glee that used to make your eyes bright fade away after all of those years passed. He wants to ask but he doesn't know how. 

All Jeongguk does know is that you were different. Not in a good or bad way but you were simply different.  The happy go lucky little girl grew into a hardened adult. When he looked into your eyes tonight, he saw traces of all of this hurt woven alongside other emotions. Like a heavy blanket that only pushes you further and further deeper into a more melancholic way of being. 

And as he helps you back into bed once your tears stop falling, rubs some cooling Vicks rub on your forehead and pulls the cover close, his brain turns into an echo chamber until he tires himself to sleep. 

No one ever sticks around anyways. 

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

A week has passed and while you thought you could gain control of your physics plight, it seems like the universe has some different plans. 

The tutor that you selected, a second year girl who is majoring in electrical engineering, has been a total flake. You exchanged numbers with her on Thursday during Week 1 and she fed you all of these sweet words about wanting to become friends and teaching in a friendly, kind way which immediately softened you. The last thing you wanted was for some dickhead to call you stupid because you didn’t understand the concept the first time. 

She said she’d meet you at the library that Saturday at 3pm to come up with a schedule and she never showed. So you rescheduled to Sunday, then Monday, then Tuesday and now you just feel like an idiot. 

There’s always some excuse. Either she slept in or she’s not feeling well or her roommate needs her but you’re losing your damn mind right now. 

“You’re not paying her, right?” Jeongyeon asks, rummaging through Nayeon’s bag for something. “Maybe she’s a scammer?” 

You give her a dull look. “She doesn’t get paid by me. I think the university does or she’s earning credits, I don’t know. But I’m fucked for the big quiz we have next week.” 

It’s only Week 2 but the material is daunting and frankly put, you’ll shit your pants the day of the actual quiz and whatever date the final is. This is all so unfamiliar to you and, unlike other subjects, you struggle to find that area where the content becomes interesting. All you feel is terror. 

Nayeon, ever the optimist, tries to lift your spirit. 

“Girl, that shit is next week. Do yourself a favor, find a new tutor, study a whole bunch and then ace the quiz. There’s no point in waiting for this random girl to start caring. It’s your grade after all.” 

“Yeah but I just don’t want someone that’s going to be an asshole when I get things wrong.” 

People love to dumb you down, especially those in your own department. Obviously your promiscuity directly correlates to your intelligence. Girls can only be slutty or smart, right? There exists no gray area. But you know yourself. Even if science and math aren’t your thing, you’re a smart person. You got into a top performing university without any fancy prep classes or coaches and you are consistently pulling good grades each semester. That speaks more about you and your capabilities than anything else. 

“I’ve heard this one guy is pretty good. He’s a teacher’s assistant pursuing his masters degree here.” Nayeon takes her phone out to look him up. “My friend was in his Chemistry group sessions and he was apparently super helpful and kind. I think he does physics too. Let me ask her.” 

You perk up. It would be perfect if you could land a tutoring session with this TA instead of your missing student tutor. Even if it’s a group setting

“Let me know what your friend says.” You look away from the two in front of you for a split second as your attention was cut by your phone vibrating on the table. Flipping it over you see a text from your flakey tutor herself. 

Reading it over, you roll your eyes heavily. Another lame excuse about her skipping out on your tutoring session because she scheduled a meeting with her professor at the exact same time by accident. You ignore it and plan to respond with a passive aggressive rejection to end all of this bullshit. Out of the corner of your eye, you see Jeongyeon and Nayeon try to discreetly take their edibles before digging into the food you all ordered. 

Steaming plates of rice, kimchi, stir-fry and meats along with a few fried foods makes your stomach grumble. You flip your phone back over and grab your chopsticks, changing the subject quickly. 

“What are you guys doing after this?” You ask. The edibles are going to last a while and considering a weed high has different stages, there’s no way these two are going to be eating the entire time. Munchies aren’t that strong. 

Jeongyeon wiggles her eyebrows suggestively to her girlfriend, cheeks full like a chipmunk, and Nayeon turns beet red. Enough context for you to figure it out, breaking into a fit of giggles. 

“Ohhh, I see.” 

Good for them. If only you were getting laid too. Lately, your vibrator has been your best friend late at night when your mind wanders. 

With thirteen settings, it’s safe to say you won’t be getting bored for a while. 

However, you’ve never done it while being high. You’d want to do it with someone you’re comfortable with, maybe a consistent trustworthy hookup and only if consent is 100% enthusiastic, but you can only imagine how heightened the senses feel. 

Getting lost in thought, you cross one of your legs over the other, thinking about the haziness parting as you ride them slow but deep. Your hands will grip their shoulders, nails digging into the tight flesh as the drag of their length is delicious inside of you. Moaning out loud at how full you feel, watching the sharp bone of his jaw unhinge with pleasure, thick silver earrings brushing your skin, dark hair between your fingers as you increase the pace and drive the two of  you to the tipping point. 

It sounds… so satisfying. 

Fuck, okay, you need to get some control over yourself. It must be the week before your period or something because your mind has been cooking up these scenarios that demand attention. 

And most of the time it involves some familiar looking yet faceless character giving you the best dick you’ve ever gotten. It’s really messing with you. 

How the fuck are you going to be Miss Celibacy if your ass can’t go a week without sex? 

You stab your chopsticks into a large chunk of tofu and stare at the red sauce over the surface before shoving it into your mouth in hopes of distracting you when an angry recognizable voice flutters past your table. 

“..and this bitch has the nerve to look me dead in the eye and go, ‘well, you just lost yourself a customer,’ as if any of us give a shit. Like ma’am I get paid minimum wage to make watery coffee and reheat cardboard sandwiches regardless of your purchase, please leave me alone and die.” 

Turning your head, you see tufts of blonde and shiny boots combined with the soft smell of peaches: Jimin. 

And right next to him is none other than Jeon Jeongguk who is chuckling at Jimin’s whiny Karen tone to describe his awful customer. His cheeks creasing, eyes getting shinier and cute. 

You can feel your body thrum with excitement. 

“Hey guys!” Nayeon waves, setting down her utensils. They turn to look at her, then Jeongyeon and then at you, bowing while greeting. Your shoulders cave in when you feel Jeongguk’s stare on your face. “Do you wanna eat lunch with us?”

“Hell yeah. Is the menu today good?” Jimin asks.  

Jeongyeon, with a mouth full of food, nods excitedly which is perfect. Jeongguk and Jimin laugh, motioning to the lunch line quickly so you save the table and go back to eating your lunches. Your brain demands another curious glance at Jeongguk’s retreating figure. 

What? He looks really fucking sexy from the back. 

Ever since the first day of school,  you agreed to ride the subway back with Jeongguk on the days you end class at the same time and you've come to the conclusion that he is quite literally the hottest guy on the entire planet. Hotter than any other guy you’ve wasted your time with. 

He has the most boyish features but his body is perfectly crafted. Wide shoulders, defined thighs and arms, a super sculpted back, but not overly burly where he looks fake. Like an exquisite marble statue from the Hellenistic period. 

Yes, yes, you know it’s sort of weird considering the fact that you’ve  watched grow up from a cute kid to an emo pre-teen and now jumping to the absolute meal he is now but it’s just some simple attraction. 

One that rears its ugly head whenever Jeongguk laughs or smiles or pushes his hair out of his face or tongues his cheek or does literally anything. 

There are a million reasons why this could’ve happened. From all the time spent together from the subway rides to morning coffee and dinner one night (with all of your friends but it still counts) or you’re thinking this silly little attraction might be a combination of a lack of dick, PMS and pure loneliness. Either way, it isn’t anything major. 

Finding a way to ignore it is the next step.

Nayeon nudges you. “Remind me again, how exactly are you two childhood friends?” Her cheeks puffed with food.  

“Oh, I lived in Busan until high school and he was my neighbor. I would always hang out with him and his two sisters.” You explain, taking another bite of soft sticky rice. 

“Older sisters?”

You shake your head. “One older and one younger.” Wondering why this is relevant. 

But then, Nayeon and Jeongyeon make eye contact, eyebrows raising like they do when they know something you don’t. Meanwhile, you’re just sitting there like an idiot, waiting for context with your chopsticks held halfway up to your mouth. 

“Green flag. Bright green fucking flag.” Jeongyeon whistles. 

“Huh?”  Your chopsticks barely prod your lip without your mouth opening. Did the edibles pull out some secret stoner knowledge that you aren’t aware of? 

Jeongyeon decides to explain it to you. “According to the girlies on tiktok, men with older sisters are usually green flags. Something about learning gentleness and patience and respecting women from an early age or whatever. I don’t get you heteros so it went past my head.” 

You’re puzzled at first. These men all have mothers, they came from a woman who nursed them and cared for them until now, why is having an older sister so different?

But then it hits you. 

The way Jeongguk treats you is so different from the way most guys treat you. There’s no domineering masculinity coming from him in heavy waves trying to overpower you. It’s softer. He’s so approachable and gentle. He never touches you unless you’re okay with it, he’s always polite and kind and sweet. He never makes you feel stupid or inadequate, doesn’t talk over you, nothing of the sort. 

And while it’s the barest of minimum, Jeongguk makes you feel safe. 

Even Jeongyeon and Nayeon, who are often not comfortable around straight men, found him to be a delight. That has to mean something. 

“I…I never thought about it,” your voice goes a little husky. Tucking a stray piece of hair out of your face as your cheeks get a little warm. “He’s just a good guy, you know.  Jihyo, his sister, always kept him in check. I guess, it’s a good thing.” 

Kids lead by example. Growing up in an environment where the adults around you were treating women poorly or pushing people around will appear in relationships. But Jeongguk was the opposite. 

“It is. Think about it,” Nayeon leans in, “after all of those duds you’ve been with, he’s just what you’re looking for.” 

The way your heartbeat accelerates is not a good sign. 

Your chin pulls back, like you’re leaning away from the possibility. “What? I’m not gonna date him, Nayeon,” you groan under your breath. 

“Why not?” She whines, slamming her fists onto the table, then laughing slightly at the indents left on his skin. 

“Because he has no interest in dating right now,” you grumble, remembering his words from his birthday. 

Even if you did try to pursue it, there’s a high chance Jeongguk might only see you as his older sister’s friend. Which is how it should be! It’s best that you let this silly little crush die like a lonely star and maintain your promise of making this year all about you. Your bullet vibrator is going to have to help you whenever you get the urge but besides that, no sex, no dates, no boys, nothing of the sort. 

“Did he tell you that?” Jeongyeon asks, eyes glazing over. The weed must be hitting pretty hard. You’re surprised they can keep up with this conversation. 

Then again, they’re probably used to it. 

You nod. “At the club.” Snorting, your eyes briefly flick to the other side of the cafeteria where a certain someone sits. “Juri offered him her number and he said he wasn’t going to go out with her.”

That seems to wake the brunette up. “Fuck, really? I wish I saw that,” she pouts, leaning on the blonde curled up next to her. Cute. 

“Well, he didn’t say no since you two started fucking hazing him the moment you saw him,” you scold. “But he told me he was going to reject her if/when he saw her in person.” 

“Hey! You were the one who directed us to shoo away any man that came up to you that night.” Nayeon defends. “We were just listening to instructions when we came over to stop you two.” 

Jeongyeon joins in. “Yeah, and he looked like your usual type so we assumed we should pull you away. How were we supposed to know the super hot guy you were talking to was a friend?” 

You open your mouth to quip back when you feel a presence behind you, casting a shadow on your back. The lingering smell of cologne and food dance in the air. A wave of despair crashes inside of your stomach and you really wish a black hole would open up right under to sweep you away from this hellscape. 

“What are you guys talking about?” 

Taehyung Jimin split to sit on the bench between Nayeon and Jeongyeon’s bench and yours. It's a square shaped table with four benches on each side, so enough space for two people per bench. The two couples share a bench while you and Jeongguk get your own, although he still sits closer to you on his own bench. 

“U-uh–” Jeongyeon stutters, looking at you with wide eyes for help. 

“Oh, just some guy,” you fake a laugh, flicking some hair out of your face and turning to food so you can shovel it in your face like a starved person. 

Taehyung laughs a little. “Just some guy? Jeongyeon was saying that he’s super hot and your type.” He’s being cheeky, like he always is, but this time, you can’t engage in a back and forth with him. 

Because the hot sweet guy you were talking about is sitting right next to you. 

Your brain urges you to take a peek. Jeongguk is dressed like he usually is; a pair of baggy cargo pants and a light gray sweatshirt, and he always looks attractive. The fall wind is allowing you to smell the scent of his flowery shampoo in combination with his usual perfume and it’s such an addictive scent that you never want to forget. 

But you can’t think about that. You should be thinking of a lie. 

“I’ve always wondered if you had a boyfriend,” Jimin asks, resting his chin on his palm. A sly smirk forms on his lips, just as cheeky as his own boyfriend’s. “I asked Jeongguk and he said he didn’t know.” 

Fuck. You look at him now, hair swishing with your movements. The boy is eating without a care and shrugs in response. “You never mentioned one.” 

Yeah, because there isn’t one. You’ve never had a boyfriend in your life. 

Sweat beads your palms. There has to be some guy that you can just drop in here for the sake of the conversation. Some random guy out in this cafeteria that is insignificant enough to never cross paths with you again so you can nip this conversation right in the bud. 

You scan the place. There are a few guys you’ve already hooked up with so that’s a no. Some groups of first-years and that’s also a no (you’re not trying to catch a case here). 

For fucks’ sake, are the only hot guys at this school Jimin, Taehyung and Jeongguk? 

“Uh–”

Nayeon swoops in like a guardian angel. “We were talking about the Physics and Chem tutor. I don’t know if you guys have had him but, Kim Namjoon?” 

Right, the tutor Nayeon’s friend went to. The really nice one. 

She sends you a hidden wink from her end of the table and you respond with a quick finger heart. Bless her soul. 

“Joon? Oh, he is so hot.” Jimin, to your surprise, bounces at the chance to thirst over this supposed sexy tutor that you’ve never seen before. His eyes roll back at the sheer thought of him, leaning closer to gossip.  “He was our tutors for Physics 2 last semester and wow.” He shakes his head, marveled at such a man. “He could top me and then never speak to me again and I’d be okay with that.”

Now you’re curious about this Kim Namjoon. Just how hot is he? 

Taehyung jumps in. “I agree, however, “he holds a single finger up, “I would also like to add Kim Seokjin, the bio tutor.” His eyes roll back dramatically. “Dream threesome. Foursome if you want babe,” he nudges the blonde who blushes in agreement.  

Then the entire table breaks out into giggles and with a little coaxing, Nayeon and Jeongyeon reveal their ideal threesomes which you already know the answers to (Han Sohee and Irene from Red Velvet) since they share the same girl crushes. Then you answer begrudgingly which are the two male leads from Business Proposal because, obviously. However, the person next to you is rather quiet. You lightly nudge his side with your elbow to check in with him. 

“You okay?” You’re asking just in case Jeongguk isn’t comfortable with sex talk. 

But he nods. “Sorry, I’m still listening. Just really hungry. All I had for breakfast was a protein shake.” Jeongguk inhales the glazed stir-fry chicken on his plate, a dot of sauce landing on the corner of his lip and, oh my, do you want to wipe it off for him because he is so cute with his bready baby cheeks all puffed with food.

“Come on,” you pretend to scold. “Breakfast is the most important meal of the day.” Jeongguk’s mom would weep if she heard about him skipping. 

He waves it off but you can see his ears get a little red. “Yeah, yeah, I know but I slept through my alarms so I was in a rush this morning. Almost pulled a Taehyung and crashed into the wall while trying to run out.” 

You laugh at the image. Taehyung can be a bit of a klutz. At the club on Jeongguk’s birthday, he almost crashed into an entire table because he was dizzy from doing tiktok dances all night. Your head throws back slightly, eyes fluttering shut, and when you open them again, Jeongguk’s eyes are on you. 

They feel explorative, searching every inch of your face like he doesn’t want to forget a single inch, lips quirked up in a half smile but it’s Jeongguk’s eyes that really take you aback. His eyes have never looked at you like that before. 

As if something is swimming deep in those pools of glimmery chocolate brown; something warm and sweet in there. 

“Sorry,” he blushes, turning his eyes away from your face and back onto his food. Your heart stops for a moment, looking down at his pillowy soft lips. They’re right there, moisturized and pink. All you really have to do is lean in. 

And with the way Jeongguk looks at you, you really fucking want to. 

He’s so beautiful. So pretty and sweet and kind and unlike any other guy you’ve ever wanted. The urge to go for him is almost primal that you can barely hold yourself back. 

Your friends are like little angels in your head, goading you on to just do it. Just kiss him and take him and then drop it. Satiate that part of you that needs sex, that needs to fucked just right, and then move on. It would be different than usual because Jeongguk is different from the previous men so you wouldn’t get hurt. 

Although… 

He’s Jihyo’s little brother, the boy who needed to hold your hand when crossing the street, the kid always on his skateboard or his nose buried in a manga. Would it tarnish everything that you find familiar to just go for it? Would years of a perfectly healthy happy friendship go right down the drain? 

But Jeongguk is an adult, only one year younger than you. There isn’t anything wrong. 

Ideally, you could just lean in and–

“Jeongguk, what was the name of the blue penguin in the Backyardigans? I really need to know like now,” Taehyung urges, breaking your train of thought immediately. 

You fly back as if the contact singes you, curling into yourself and placing a single hand on the surface of the table to catch your breath. You completely forgot about the whole conversation going on around you when you stared into Jeongguk’s pretty deep eyes. 

It’s clear as day to you. With the man he’s become, it’s obvious that you are definitely into Jeon Jeongguk. 

“Huh?” He rasps, slightly out of it too. “Oh-uh, Pablo. He’s the one that sings International Super Spy.” 

“Pablo! I knew it.” Taehyung snaps his fingers loudly. “How do you still remember that?”

Jeongguk awkwardly forces out a laugh. “We watched a few episodes together this summer, remember?” 

“Right. Pretty sure I was blazed out of my mind, though.” 

Jimin nudges him. “Babe, when are you not blazed out of your mind?”

“When I’m with you, baby boy,” he coos.  

The boy next to you groans out loud. “Ugh, you two are so nasty.” His voice is muffled by food but he still gets his point across. You bite back a giggle at the disgust on his face. 

“Jeongguk, you can’t be mean to us. It’s homophobic.” Jimin points a chopstick in his direction but Jeongguk simply shrugs and continues eating without a care. 

Jeongyeon pipes up. “I agree. That applies to you too, Queen of the Straights.” 

The direct hit has pulled you out of your internal panic, reminding you to contribute to the conversation like friends usually do. Your eyes dull a little. “Yes ma’am.”  Faking a soldier’s salute to make everyone laugh. 

You’re glad that everyone else seems oblivious to what just happened because you know that had the two of you been alone, the situation would be entirely different. 

And you don’t know if that outcome would be any better than this one. 

*:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧

On Friday, classes get canceled. 

Thankfully, it’s nothing bad. All of the buildings are getting fumigated to keep out any infestations that might’ve crawled in over the summer since someone thought they saw a cockroach in the Arts building so all the professors decide to post the lecture information online or have virtual class if necessary. 

You had no complaints with this change. Attend class in your pajamas, in your bed, and have the option to fall asleep without getting caught? Sounds perfect. 

Although, no in person class means you don’t get to speak to your Physics professor to complain about your flakey tutor and find a new one which you were banking on completing before you had your huge quiz next week. So, once your final lecture ends, you begin to worry about how the hell you’re going to resolve that problem. 

Sure, you could easily self-review with the resources online but you’ve always learned more theoretical concepts with someone explaining it to you in person so you could ask questions immediately. 

You shut your laptop off and place it on top of the long coffee table you use as a desk. An open notebook with notes sits on your right, pen clicked off, highlighters placed neatly in your pencil case, and the silence of your studio apartment almost starts ringing in your ears. 

Who do you know that can tutor you for physics? 

Nayeon sent you the email address for the Namjoon person whom everyone is vouching for. You asked this morning  if he had any space in his tutoring session but he responded saying that he does but he isn’t having a session today and he’s happy to answer any questions over email or through a video call individually. 

You genuinely consider that option until you look up at the decor in your room that Namjoon has no chance of missing during the video call. 

Now, you wouldn’t call yourself a strange person, if anything you are a well-adjusted member of society,  but the pieces chosen to hang up in your studio apartment would raise some eyebrows. From the poster of Bibble from Barbie saying Gaslight, Gatekeep, Girlboss to the concerning amount of Sanrio plushies you’ve collected over the years to all of the cat beds and toys thrown around the place and the impressive array of diffusers in every corner, your apartment is an amalgamation of you. 

And you don’t know if this Namjoon guy is going to take one look at the place and peg you down as a fucking weirdo or not. You want to make a good impression on him. 

So, you wrack your brain for a different option to help you just before your quiz next week. 

Someone. Anyone. 

Your worst bet is to walk over to the nearest cram school and ask someone there but those are all high school students and you’d die of embarrassment. 

Then you remember, Jeongguk took Physics last semester. Maybe he can help. 

Quickly, you pat around your duvet for your phone. It’s lying screen down a few inches away from Snowball’s sleeping body. Carefully, you grab the device, scroll through your contacts and call him with fiery hope coursing through you thickly.

“Hello?” His voice drips from the speakers like flowing water and you want to drown in it. 

“Hey, are you done with online classes?” You ask, on your back and knees to your chest in a very suggestive position. 

“Uh almost,” Jeongguk trails off. “Why? What’s up?”

You hold back a goofy smile at his distracted tone. “You know how you said you took physics last semester?” He hums in response. “Do you think you could explain a few concepts to me? I have this big ass quiz soon and I don’t wanna bomb it.” 

You wait. The pessimist in you expects a rejection, a flat out ‘I’d rather die than waste my time explaining physics concepts to a 21-year-old,’ but the optimist is waiting with a bouquet of roses on the other side. 

This is Jeongguk we’re talking about. Sweet, sweet, lovely Jeongguk. Not that dickhead that sits in the back of lecture and watches hentai on his phone. 

“Oh. I’m not the best teacher.”

Both the optimist and pessimist in your head are waiting on the balls of their feet. That wasn’t the answer you were expecting but it's an answer you aren’t hurt by! 

“That’s okay! I just need someone to go over it with me. As long as you aren’t mean, I won’t complain.” You want to appeal to Jeongguk in a way that’ll get the guy to bend a little and what other way to a man’s heart than food? “I’ll repay you with dinner,” you sing-song.  

There’s a brief pause, like he’s considering the option while noises mumble in the background. “What’s the menu?” Jeongguk asks. 

God, he’s so cute. Your cheeks are raised so high, they might as well curl into your eyes. 

“I live near a great fried chicken place.” Works out perfectly because you’ve been craving something fried for a while now. Must be your period. 

Jeongguk barely waits a second. “Sold. Text me the time and your address.”

You cut the call after bidding each other goodbye. A giddy squeal almost bubbles out of your lips until you realize that you have about two hours until Jeongguk is in your apartment for the first time ever. 

Alone. No friends. No family. 

Just you and this super hot guy. 

No interruptions. Complete privacy. 

You launch out of bed so fast that you wake up Snowball from her slumber. Quickly, you shower and you take your time to scrub your body with lilac body wash and shave. Usually Friday is your pamper day so this isn’t anything out of the ordinary. Then you wash your greasy hair to rid yourself of the conditioning hair mask you slathered on this morning. After your shower, you walk around your studio with your fluffy bathrobe and microfiber towel on to find the perfect outfit. 

It has to be comfortable but cute. Even though Jeongguk is just tutoring you and there is a high chance that this meeting will only be platonic, you still want to look your best. 

Rummaging through your dresser drawers and closet, your eyes immediately fall to your collection of baby-doll lingerie sets in various colors. An expensive purchase, but you’ve always enjoyed dressing up every now and then. Your fingers dance across the itchy lace, thinking about which one Jeongguk would like? Lilac? Baby pink? Maybe the nude one with the intricate designs on the cups? Or how about the blood red and black one that looks like it came straight out of a BDSM film? 

Nah, that’s too much. You go for yoga pants, a plain t-shirt and a quarter-zip with your university’s logo on it. Then selecting a lacy pair of underwear and no bra. You hate wearing one at home anyways. 

The clothes lay spread out on your bed as you begin your post shower process of lotion, deodorant, a soft scented body spray and then your clothes. Then, you dry your hair and then begin cleaning up the little clutter you have over the place. You’re a neat person, which others find shocking, so there isn’t much to do. You dry some dishes on the rack, reset your bedsheets, light up a candle, empty the litter box, and eat a mediocre salad as you wait for the clock to strike 5pm. 

Time moves at a microscopic pace, probably because you’re staring at the moving hands in hopes that you’ll blink at the pretty boy will be standing at your doorstep. You should focus on something else in the meantime. So you take out your physics notebook and begin reviewing. 

Next week’s quiz will be on a little under ½  of the energy chapter covered so far. You’ve been paying attention, taking diligent notes, and doing pretty good on the homework but the topics still freak you out.  

It’s a STEM thing. You haven’t taken one since your first year so you’re rusty and the material seems extra intimidating. Unlike Jeongguk, Jimin and Taehyung, you don’t study this on a daily basis. 

But there’s nothing you won’t be able to conquer without working. 

About halfway through your revision is when the buzz of your home intercom rings, shocking you out of your thoughts. Slowly, you get up, dusting the invisible particles off your clothes and going over to the machine to let Jeongguk in. There’s a short waiting game, lasting about two minutes, as he probably comes up from the lobby and reaches your door before knocking. 

You’re putting a kettle of water to boil as the sound resonates and you rush over to open the door with a bright smile on your lips. 

“Hey,” you breathe out, taking in the sights before you. 

As always, Jeongguk looks perfect in a gray long-sleeve t-shirt and black sweats. Like the comfy soft boyfriend of your dreams. His hair is a little damp at the ends but it waves a little past his eyebrow as it grows and his backpack straps pull his shirt wide to show off his broad shoulders. 

Fucking hell, you think. You want to eat him up and ruin him. 

Swallowing shakily, you step aside as he grins. “Hi.” Jeongguk’s voice is low, like usual, but a little buttery and less hoarse. Almost sexy. 

Basically, it’s doing things to you. 

Carefully, you lead him inside where Jeongguk takes his shoes off and stares at the place with those big eyes of his. You wonder what goes through that pretty head of his as he stares at the various stuffed animals and the wall art. But, instead, he lands on the Kirby shaped cat-bed at the base of your bed holding Snowball’s half-asleep body. 

“You have a cat?” He asks. 

“Oh, I forgot to tell you.” You walk in front of the thing, squatting down in front of the entrance to hold a hand out for the ball of fluff to sniff. Snowball headbutts you immediately. “You didn’t inherit your dad’s allergy, did you?” 

That would crush you. As much as you like dogs, you’re a cat person at heart or a Snowball person at heart. 

Jeongguk shakes his head no. Then he comes to the same spot you are and gets on his knees on the opposite side of you, watching with curious doe eyes. Slowly, Jeongguk extends his hand out, thinking Snowball needs time to get used to him like some cats do, but no. She’s friendly and extroverted, getting out of the bed to welcome Jeongguk with an excited soft-tone trill.

It’s heartwarming watching her melt into his touch, purring and climbing into Jeongguk’s lap the more he pets her on all of her favorite spots. 

“You’ve been accepted,” you muse, crossing your arms over your stomach in hopes that by pushing on it, that buttery, gooey, sugary feeling will go away. 

“Yay,” Jeongguk cheers cutely. “What’s her name?” 

“Snowball.” 

“Snowball!” He coos. “You are the cutest ever!” Jeongguk leans down to tell her, slight aegyo in his tone. The rounded tip of his nose brushes the top of her small head

No, you are, is what zings through your mind but don’t tell Snowball you thought that.  

Since your knees start screaming at you to get up, you leave Jeongguk and Snowball to go check on the kettle which is at its very end of boiling the water. You get up on your tiptoes to pull out two white mugs and before grabbing your go-to peach green tea packets, you ask Jeongguk. 

“Tea or coffee?” 

Jeongguk looks up from Snowball curled on his lap, the body of a bright grin on his lips. “Coffee please.” When you nod, he goes back to petting the white feline without another care. 

His adorable politeness removes any nerves you had or any prior sheepishness from the way your studio apartment looks. Small and decorated with all of your interests. The only people that have ever been here are your mother, Jeongyeon and Nayeon. Hookups were always at their place or a hotel so it’s a little odd to see Jeongguk seated on your floor. 

But at the same time, it’s Jeongguk on your floor so you aren’t that worried. 

Pouring the mugs with steaming hot water, you grab a packet of instant coffee while your tea bag steeps and you make Jeongguk his coffee. In the meantime, he’s seated by your coffee table/desk, shrugging his backpack off while Snowball sits beside Jeongguk diligently. Like she’s protecting him from whatever she thinks is going to attack him. 

“I like your place,” Jeongguk says, shocking you for a moment. “It’s very,” he trails off. “Very you.” 

You give him a dulled look over your shoulder. “What do you mean by that?”

“You know, it’s got all of your favorite things.” His chin gestures to the Sanrio stuffed animals, the various figurines from all of your favorite animes, the vintage posters, the bunny paraphernalia, all of your favorite things, like Jeongguk said. 

You turn, pressing the small of your back to the cold counter behind you. “Your place is nice too,” you add for the sake of returning the compliment, although it is true. 

Jeongguk shakes his head. “Yeah but, my landlord is a gaping asshole and hates the idea of posters and paintings since he’s scared it’ll fuck up the wall. It’s nice but it feels dead,” he gives your apartment one more look, “but yours has some personality, you know? I’m kinda jealous.” 

His smile is genuine, sweet and kind. You find yourself melting from the sheer sight of it but you hold yourself back. Don’t want to look too whipped.  

Exhaling with some laughter, you start bringing the mugs over along with some biscuits since it’s tea time. “The first apartment we had when we moved here was like that. The landlord didn’t even let my mom change the curtains even though the ones that came with the place had stains all over it.” Jeongguk grimaces at the thought. “But Mrs. Jeong from our Busan apartment was so nice.” 

What a sweet woman. She would often come down whenever she heard one of them had a cold or if there was a birthday and she was never harsh when your mother’s checks bounced or if she needed an extra day because she hadn’t gotten paid yet. She was the reason you thought all landlords had some semblance of empathy but no. 

“We lived there for about fifteen years. It sucked having to leave.” 

“Oh my god, I didn’t know you moved out!” You gasp, shifting yourself to face him completely. “Is your current place closer to the bakery?”

“No, it’s actually farther but it’s closer to the center of Busan so public transport is good. Plus, noona got a car so it’s not too bad.” 

You sigh. Fuck, you miss Busan so much. Even hearing the slight satoori in Jeongguk’s voice does wonders for your nostalgia as yours only peeks out when you’re angry thanks to teasing from all of the Seoul elitists. 

The beach, the food, the fresh air, the streets, you miss all of it. Such a simple time. You’ve always dreamed of settling there once you’ve figured your life out. It was your end goal. 

“I wanna hear more but let’s get physics out of the way first,” you tap your notebook twice and Jeongguk moves to his backpack to take some items out to start the tutoring session. 

And, to no one’s shock, Jeongguk is actually a really great tutor. 

He’s patient with you and doesn’t mind giving you constant encouragement when you get a bit insecure halfway through a word problem. On concepts you’re unsure about, Jeongguk explains them in the simplest way possible without getting haughty. No outbursts if you make the same mistake two times in a row, he never once calls you stupid or says you’re wasting his time. Jeongguk gently coaches you until you try to solve some problems on your own from the textbook without his help and he checks them afterwards, telling you what you did right and wrong.   

Quite literally, this is all that you wanted. 

Someone to answer your questions, explain a few concepts, and walk you through a couple of examples without questioning your smarts as a whole. 

It’s nice. You feel safe and even better, you feel actually prepared for the quiz which is the opposite of how you felt this morning. You aren’t even worried about it at all. 

After clearing through the sample quiz and practice problems easily in a matter of about 2 ½ hours, you two are all done tutoring. Which means freedom for the rest of the night. 

Quickly, you connect your laptop to the small TV mounted on the wall and put on Love Island since neither of you have watched it. Jeongguk is rather curious about it since Jimin and Taehyung won’t stop talking about it,  so you decide to jump into the newest season with him while leaning against your bed and pulling up the menu for the fried chicken place.

“I’m getting honey garlic,” you tell him when you hand him your phone.  

“Then, I’ll do the spicy cheese one.” He leans closer instead of taking the device and you really wish he didn’t because your body reacts to the proximity with goosebumps erupting all over you like you’re a teenager again. 

Your eyes flick up to his side profile, which is literally perfect. His jaw is strong, well cut, defined and his skin is the color of fresh milk tea. You can see little imperfections on his skin like old acne scars, the slightly chapped surface of his lips, and all of his shiny earrings. You love the way he looks and how Jeongguk has grown into his features.  The urge to trace his jawline with your tongue is insane, almost caustic inside of you. It’s impossible to push down. You sort of dressed up for this tutoring date, throwing on a pair of your favorite panties, lathering yourself in the softest lotion; you took all of the right steps and you’re hungry for a certain ending even though there’s a high chance it won’t happen at all. The horny side of you is begging for you to shoot your shot. 

But you stop. Not yet. Not right now. 

While Jeongguk picks out drinks, appetizers and the dessert he wants,  you rush to the bathroom for a second. In the mirror, you take notice of your reddened cheeks and parted lips and the messy wisps of hair sticking out. You quickly tie it back into a loose braid and then splash some water on your face. 

Reel it back, bitch.  

While in the bathroom, you call out. “Hey Jeongguk? Could you get my wallet? It’s on top of my dresser, the one next to my closet.” Might as well pay now so you can get the chicken faster. 

“Okay!” He responds. 

The noise your stomach makes is loud and painful. The salad you had did nothing to satiate your cravings so the thought of chicken, perfectly fried to a crisp and covered in garlicky sweet sauce has you practically salivating. Especially since you’ve been eating so healthily as of late. It’s nice to treat yourself to some fast food.

Afterwards, you trudge back on over to the coffee table and plop down silently while Jeongguk puts in your card information. Meanwhile, you remember to feed Snowball for dinner and give her some much needed attention by bringing her to sit with the two of you so she can be pet and loved. 

Jeongguk’s warmth emanates from his shoulder that is inches away from you while the Love Island intro song plays at the start of every new season. Half-heartedly, you watch the corny antics as each contestant introduces themselves with the main host speaking over and you think about how much internal anguish you’re feeling at the moment. 

An object prods into your forearm. You look down to see the rounded edge of your credit card. “I paid,” Jeongguk tells you. You don’t respond verbally, taking the plastic and shoving it into the slot of your card wallet. 

“Thanks,” you mumble. You bring your knees up to your chest and rest your chin on top of them, hoping to get into the various shirtless tattooed guys on your television screen. It’s an easy task. Shows like Love Island don’t ask too much of you but you can get into it enough where other thoughts begin to fade. 

You check your phone to see that the chicken should be delivered in about 10 minutes. Then you can have food and TV to reward you for all of your hard work. 

The beginning is awkward as each person picks their couple purely based on looks and their name. You cringe when a guy comes in and no one steps up to match with him so he has to randomly choose a girl who was either too shy to step up to say she thinks he’s cute or not at all interested in him. It sounds like such an awkward place to be in and you’d hate to be on either side of the situation. 

Jeongguk, on the other hand, isn’t a reality TV kind of guy. So he has a million questions and comments throughout the 57 minute episode. 

“I don’t get it. They just shove 10 hot people in a house and they have to like each other?” 

“Fuck, that’s how you’re supposed to say Leicester?” 

“That one guy looks like such a fuck boy. Why would you ever get a chest tattoo of an eagle?” 

“What happens if you don’t like anyone you match with? Can you just leave?” You shrug in response. This is your first time watching this show too.  “I’d leave so fast if I was on this show. None of these people would interest me.”

“Me too,” you respond, playing with the frayed edge of an old receipt sticking out of one of the wallet pockets. “I’d get the ick so fast and then hop on the first plane back home.” 

Jeongguk’s bantering turns the simple binge into something more. You start laughing, indulging his every whim, making fun of the guys trying too hard to flirt and seem suave and it’s really fun. You manage to barely remember the way you felt when you came out of the bathroom. 

Is this how it should always be? Platonically hanging out? 

Was it a good thing that you stopped yourself before your desires took over your logic?

You don’t know. You don’t want to either. You just want to sit back and enjoy the rest of this lovely day off. 

After another few minutes of watching the show, you feel Jeongguk’s eyes on you. Wide, glittery, washing over every inch of your skin like he’s trying to commit your features to memory. You raise an eyebrow in question. For a moment, he doesn’t do anything, just stares at you, and then he points to your phone screen where a notification from the delivery app shows. 

The food is here. 

Quickly, you go down, slipping some slides on your feet and shoving your hands in the pockets of your sweater. The delivery person hands you the plastic bag with steaming boxes and you thank them before trundling back upstairs. The smell that wafts to you is mouth-wateringly delicious. 

This. This is your treat after a grueling two weeks of school. 

You bring it up for you and Jeongguk to dig into. The chicken is fresh and delicious and in combination with Jeongguk’s commentary, you start to really enjoy yourself. Especially as all your sex related thoughts begin to push to the back of your brain and the night gets more fun yet relaxing. The food is good and the drinks are refreshing. 

Afterwards, you crack open a bag of  kit kats to share with him to cap off the meal with something sweet since none of the desserts at the restaurant sounded appealing to either of you. 

Love Island is addictive. Your friends were right about it. Two episodes later and the two of you are curious about who is the new islander coming and how they are going to shake things up. 

The TV is on the wall mounted across your bed and coffee table. For the sake of your backs, you move Jeongguk to the bed and take some pillows to lean against so your backs aren’t completely sore by the next morning. 

Although, you do wish your back was sore for another reason but let’s not get into that just yet. 

Since you don’t have a lot of pillows, you share your main one, meaning you’re a lot closer to Jeongguk than you originally planned. To the point where your arms are pressed against each other and your legs are brushing. It makes you nervous to be this close. His perfume is a strong elixir, heady and comforting, pushing you to lean in and bury your face into the delectable skin of his neck. Even his neck, wow. The skin is so smooth, there’s a mole right in the middle of it. You want to sink your teeth into the flesh and use your lips and tongue to paint it all sorts of beautiful colors. 

Sweat begins to form on your hairline. You get nervous with Jeongguk sitting so close to you, hands itching to do something. First they play around with the single star pendant on your necklace, then at a loose thread on your comforter, and then you decide to redo your hair. 

The braid has become a straggly mess with you leaned against things so you pull your hair tie off and begin to undo your braid. At the very least, it is something for your hands to do, keep them occupied and away. 

From Jeongguk that is. You don’t want to obstruct his view or break his attention. 

Pushing off from the pillow, suddenly something happens on screen that makes your head turn abruptly  to see who said what and your hair wacks Jeongguk right in the eye. 

“Shit,” he hisses, clutching his face, curling inwards. 

You begin to panic, turning in on your knees to get closer to him. 

“Oh my god, I’m so sorry! I was trying to tie my hair and then something happened on screen so I–” you stop midway, no need for an explanation. Instead, check to see if your hair scratches him in the cornea or not.

Jeongguk’s legs, that were once crossed, are now spread wide without your body taking up the space next to him on your bed. Without a second thought, you cross over the one closest to you and end up in between his two long legs. One hand on his shoulder to grab his attention. 

“Are you okay?” You ask worriedly, trying to search his gaze but Jeongguk’s eyes are turned down. “Jeongguk?” 

Muffled, he speaks up. “Y-yeah. I’m fine.” Jeongguk drops his hands onto his thighs before blinking a few times and you see a telltale tear pool from his big doe eyes, dripping down the slope of his cheek. 

A huge wave of guilt crashes inside of you. 

You made Jeongguk cry. 

Not intentionally but still. He’s crying. 

“Aw,” you cup his cheeks, searching his irises for anything like you’re a licensed ophthalmologist or something, wiping the stray tear with your thumb.“I’m really sorry. Do you need eye drops or anything?” You sit down on your feet, leaning closer to see him. “I can go check in my medicine box if I have any left from Spring.”

He doesn’t respond. 

 Jeongguk freezes immediately with you between his legs. As if all of his blood stops flowing through his veins and he’s turned to stone by Medusa. He glances at every corner of your face, at the strands of hair framing it, like he’s never seen you before. His jaw unhinges and the tip of his pink tongue is just barely visible. 

You don’t even notice how close you get. So worried about the possibility of your hair scratching his cornea that you forget that your knees are brushing against his crotch. Nor do you think about how your face is near, you’re literally staring down like you’re about to kiss him despite dreaming about being in this position all day. 

The only thing echoing in your mind is: Is Jeongguk okay? 

Not another thought. 

“I–” he stops, lips parted, “I’m okay, really.” 

Jeongguk’s palm gently pushes your hands off of his cheeks and he shifts in his spot. 

He’s practically shielding himself for you. His legs are pushed up to his chest now. Jeongguk looks like an animal that’s getting scolded for spilling food everywhere and you cannot understand why on earth he’d be making a face like that. 

“Is something wrong?” You ask. Jeongguk covers his face but you can see his ears starting to turn red. 

You inch closer to him and gently wrap your fingers around his wrist. You’re so close you can smell the gentle perfume he’s sprayed on his neck and the inviting scent of his hair serum. But he’s wriggling around like a fish out of water and it’s scaring you. 

His hands move down, ripping his wrist out of your grip to cover up his crotch and you see a glimpse of the obvious bulge poking from his sweatpants. 

Oh. 

You recoil, muscles tightening as your brain moves a mile a minute. Something Jeongguk must sense from you because he starts explaining way faster than you thought he would. 

“I’m sorry! This is–I can leave if you’d like–” 

“It’s okay, Jeongguk,” you mumble. Your voice is soft. 

It’s okay. It’s more than okay. 

It’s better than okay. 

Jeongguk continues to panic, deaf to your obvious nonchalance about him popping a boner right after you almost blinded him. “I don’t–It just sort of happened-and-and I wasn’t like–thinking a-about you or doing anything–it just,” he pauses midway, sighs to catch his breath, stops nervously stuttering,  and then turns to get up which makes you a little nervous. “I’ll go to the bathroom and get rid of it–”

In a flash, your hand wraps around his wrist to stop him from moving. 

“It’s okay,” you repeat. “I’m not grossed out.” Literally, you are the complete opposite of that but barely you mull it over one last time before speaking up again. “I could fix it, if you’d like.” Just before your conscience could stop you.

This is it. This is your chance to have him. Just once, satiate that need, and then you can go back to normal. 

The universe practically handed you this opportunity on a golden platter so you should take it. Given that Jeongguk is down too. 

His eyes go adorably wide. “W-what?” Jeongguk stutters. 

“I could help you deal with it.”  You say once more. 

At least your voice is clear and sure. On the inside, you’re just a giant piece of adrenaline. 

Jeongguk relaxes some more, gulping, and you watch his Adam’s apple bob. His shoulders broaden like he’s trying to seem confident but you can tell that he’s nervous as fuck too. 

“Why would you do that?” 

Oh, you pretty thing. You have no idea, do you?

“I don’t mind,” you shrug. Feeling bold, the hand that rests on his shoulder squeezes the mass indulgently and Jeongguk feels exquisite. You want to rip all of these clothes off of his body. “You helped me with physics so,” trailing off, as if it’s the only logical solution to this problem. 

To you, it feels like it is. Trade an A on a quiz for an orgasm. 

Plus, you finally get to rid yourself of this intense sexual tension building inside of you. A combination of your hormones and your loneliness all cooked up to make a touch-starved mess at the tiniest thing. Being with Jeongguk could be just what you need to get your focus back on yourself. He’s gorgeous, inside and out, so there’s no intense guilt to bubble from letting some douchebag grow an even bigger ego by sleeping with you. 

Jeongguk is still apprehensive. “You… you know you don’t-like-owe it to me to fix this, right? Just because I got hard doesn’t mean it’s your job to do something for me.” 

You’re taken aback. 

Most guys wouldn’t have even protested. Your mouth would be on his dick and the minute they come, you’d be all alone. They’re the types to view sex in a very individualistic manner. 

A dopey smile makes its way to your lips. “I know. This isn’t a really transactional thing.” You cup his cheek with one hand this time and trace the deep scar there absentmindedly. “I actually want to do this.” 

If Jeongguk were to hear the insane things your brain produces, you wonder if he’d run for the hills or be flattered. Definitely the former. 

“Okay but um,” he avoids your eyes, looking off to the side and you sort of love Jeongguk like this. It’s so different from his nonchalant easygoing behavior.  “I’ve never,” he searches for the words, changes his mind halfway through, and finds another path. “No one has ever like-oh god this is embarrassing–”

You decide to save him. “No one’s ever given you a blowjob?” 

He nods behind his hands that rose to cover his reddening face during his reveal. God, he’s adorable. 

“Really?”

“Is that such a surprise?”

“Yeah, I mean, you’re hot.” You say truthfully. His change of expression does wonders for your confidence. So much so that you decide to bite the bullet and run a hand through his hair affectionately. “How far have you gone?”

The strands are silky smooth, flowing through your fingers like water, and Jeongguk’s eyes flutter shut at the sensation as he mumbles out a response. 

“I kissed someone but only a few times. I got dragged to a high school party and played spin the bottle but nothing more than that.” 

This is new for you. Almost every guy you’ve ever been with is experienced or way more experienced than you. From the guy in high school who took your virginity all the way to Wooshik. And they varied from vanilla guys to those who are super into the dom/sub spiel. You’ve never been the experienced one and it feels different. 

Like you’re corrupting him, forcibly taking away something precious. Like Mrs. Robinson on the prowl for someone younger whom she can use to her advantage. 

And even though that isn’t the case with you and Jeongguk, you want this to be different than your first time. If anything, you want him to feel safe and wanted and to let him know that, at any point, if he wants to stop then it will stop. Just like there’s no obligation for you to make him feel good, there is no obligation for him to return the favor. 

“Then let’s start with that and then we can move on if you’re comfortable. Or we don’t have to do anything and we can just forget about it. Whatever you want.” 

You won’t do anything unless he wants you to. As much as you want to touch him, as much as you need sex, you’re totally fine with taking things at his pace. 

And if he rejects this entire thing and opts to fix his situation in the bathroom, that’s okay too. 

Jeongguk presses the back of his head against the wall in thought, giving you an amazing view of his jawline, until he shyly speaks. “Okay.” 

“Okay?” You want to be sure, hiding the fact that you are utterly elated on the inside.  Jeongguk just turns more red as he avoids your eyes peering into him. 

“You–we can start. I-if that’s what you want.” 

You exhale through your nose. “Oh, you have no idea how much I want to.” 

Before he can question you, you lean down and gently connect your lips with his. 

There’s a moment where it feels foreign, where your body becomes covered with goosebumps at the sheer adrenaline coursing through you and the way your brain freaks out at the change. This is happening, you’re finally doing this, but you take a second to just press and feel. Be in the moment and stop trying to control everything, then you’re fine. 

It’s easy because Jeongguk’s lips are pillowy soft. 

Starting off with a quick peck, you split for a second, nose brushing, and then you kiss Jeongguk again. This time it’s much stronger. Any lack of confidence melts when your lips move languidly against Jeongguk. He’s responsive to your every movement, feeling the inside of your mouth with his own, while his hands rest appropriately on your hips. His lip balm is rose flavored and delectable. Jeongguk is a good kisser. 

The noises fill the quiet apartment as you move closer and cup his jaw on one side while your other hand goes back to his silky soft hair to move your lips cohesively. You adjust yourself so that instead of kneeling between his legs, you’re straddling his thick muscular thighs and they feel exquisite against you, pulling a soft sigh from your lips. 

Jeongguk must feel your exhale, gaining some bravado to take the lead when he kisses you, setting the pace as his own hands begin to move from their comfortable spot on your hips. Part of you really wants to push them down to your ass to feel those big sexy hands grab a handful but you want to wait to see what he does.

He kisses you a little wet but wanton, igniting a deep burning flame inside of you. It’s bright, hot, and you can’t pull yourself away from him the more your lips collide, suckle, and slot. 

Jeongguk’s hands begin tracing up your back with a feather-light touch, and your lips part at the feeling when he unexpectedly inches his tongue into your mouth. 

Looks like he wasn’t lying when he said he’s kissed before. 

Crackles of pleasure bubble in you. Kissing can turn you on, if the guy is good at what he does, and Jeongguk is doing just that. That throbbing sensation takes over and you find yourself clenching around nothing, dreaming of having something just fill you just how you like. His tongue tangles with yours. The kiss starts to get much sloppier, something you didn’t realize you were craving until now, and you rise up on your knees while gently tugging on his hair in a flash of atypical roughness on your end. 

Your mind refuses to process that this is Jihyo’s little brother who is kissing you silly. Right now, he’s Jeongguk. 

Jeongguk with the gorgeous eyes and the gorgeous body who got hard the moment you inched closer. 

You decide to grind down on him, especially when the curve of his bulge becomes more prominent against your ass, and Jeongguk muffles a noise into your mouth. The fabric of your underwear drags across your neglected clit, pulling another sigh out of you. It’s a small jolt of pleasure and you can feel yourself dampen even more. From the action and from the way Jeongguk sounds. 

Another moan comes from Jeongguk when you grind against him again and again, whiny yet soft. It’s doing something to you. His hands squeeze your hips and then one drifts to the back of your thigh. 

Pulling away to catch your breath, you press your forehead against his. There’s a thin layer of sweat building on your skin but your arms loop comfortably around Jeongguk’s neck, tugging his body forwards. His eyes glimmer at you, with kiss-bruised lips and the beginnings of his pearly white bunny teeth peeking out from between. You resist the urge to dive down again, instead wanting to appreciate the absolute view you have right now. 

Your fingers tangle in a lock of his soft black hair. “You’re so gorgeous,” you whisper, taking in his forehead, his jawline, his perfect nose, and every single one of his moles. 

Jeongguk, who is already blushed and heavily breathing, gets even more shy at your compliment, looking away from you to avoid your teasing smile. Which just makes you want to shower him in more praise just to see how embarrassed he can get. 

“So pretty, so handsome,” your finger traces his jaw before going down to his unblemished neck where the skin looks so soft but the area is taut and beautiful. You want to see how he’d look with hickeys. “I want to mark you,” you point to the middle of the right side of his neck, “right here.” 

Jeongguk’s eyebrows raise to his hairlines. “You want to give me a hickey?” He says incredulously. You nod. 

“I want you to remember this.”

Usually, you aren’t the possessive type but you think about Juri, walking through campus and finding Jeongguk, someone that she’s expressed interest in, like this. Covered in marks you left, reeling after the pleasure you gave him. You know the chance is unlikely and if Jeongguk were to run into her, you doubt he’d tell her any bit of what you two had done but it’s the principle of it all. 

That she can be a misogynistic pick-me/not-like-the-other girl all she wants, you still pull better than she ever will. 

Maybe then, she’ll keep your name out of her damn mouth. 

Jeongguk exhales quietly, holding some weight. “Do you actually think I’ll forget this?” 

You smirk. “Dunno, but I can’t let a pretty little thing like you get away, can I? Especially with all of those other girls who love to stare.”

It happens often whenever you two would be walking from class or on public transport and people would stare at Jeongguk. Not that you’d blame them. With a face like that, Jeongguk could debut as an idol and win the hearts of millions, he could act or model even, but then you become more aware of the fact that someone even better could scoop him up at any time and you wouldn’t stand a chance against them. 

“I won’t,” he starts, shaking his head with eyes so honest and truthful that you almost collapse in his hold. “I won’t go away and I won’t forget, okay?” Jeongguk pleads with you, holding your body still with two exact hands on your hips. 

You swear your stomach feels a group of butterflies flapping about, along with unicorns and rainbows and glitter and all of that silly shit when Jeongguk says that. The hand in his hair cups his cheek, thumb tracing his cheekbone. 

“You won’t?” 

“Never,” Jeongguk presses firmly. “And,” he hesitates for a moment, “and I’m not looking at anyone else right now, either. There’s just you.” 

There’s just you. 

The sentence sounds like a confession. Like he’s being honest while you were just being horny and possessive. You feel your act drop, whatever front you were putting up, it drops, and you don’t know what to say at first. 

The truth? You aren’t thinking about anyone else either. You don’t want to. You want Jeongguk. There’s only Jeongguk right now. 

Had this been with any other person, you wouldn’t feel comfortable being honest with them. You wouldn’t trust them not to use that against you but you know Jeongguk and you trust Jeongguk more than anything. 

“I… I’m not looking at anyone either,” you manage to mumble out. Now you’re the one who is all red and shy. 

And watching Jeongguk’s expression change when you said that… priceless. 

He stares at you like you hung all of the stars in the sky, that you push the sun up in the sky every morning, like the dew droplets on the blades of grass, like it was just you. 

It’s perfect yet so much at the same time. You want to say more but you don’t know what else you could say so you meet his gaze, then dip down to his lips, and he nods so you lean in to kiss him again. 

He makes a noise of surprise, immediately licking fiercely into your mouth to meet the movements of your lips. Slowly, Jeongguk pulls away from the wall and begins moving down to lay against the bed, holding himself up with a forearm on the soft material and strengthening his hold on you so you wouldn’t slip off from him. 

You feel Jeongguk grin against your lips at your eagerness but he maintains the energy. Arching your back a little, mostly for show, you reach back and push one of Jeongguk’s hands further down to your ass. He’s been so careful and gentle with you so far and, as nice as it is, you want more. His eyebrows furrow against you, curling his palm over the tangible curve before giving your ass a tentative squeeze and pulling a muffled moan from you. 

So Jeongguk does it again. Does it with more vigor, digging his fingers into the flesh of your cheek and grinding his hips upwards. Gets you throbbing insufferably and so wet. 

“Jeongguk,” you gasp into his mouth, meeting the movement of his hips with your own. The bulge in his pants becomes really prominent as you break the kiss, moving down his strong jawline to his perfect neck. 

Whatever perfume he uses, the smell is strong now, filling your olfactory senses with sweet powdery softness. Your lips search for that spot you ache to mark, digging your teeth into the gentle flesh and soothing  the area over with your tongue. 

The noise he makes…

Jeongguk whimpered when you were sucking and biting on his skin. 

It took so much willpower for you to not rip his damn top off when that sound reached your ears. You were so wet and throbbing in your pants, desperate for some form of touch besides your soaked underwear against your clit. If you could, you’d cover his entire body with hickeys, paint his neck all sorts of beautiful colors if it were socially acceptable for someone to be walking around like that and not have everyone’s immediate thought be that he got jumped or something. 

But you practice restraint and suck on the hot skin, kissing, and doing your best to keep yourself under control even if your wetness was starting to become bothersome. Jeongguk’s hands on your ass don’t help with that either. 

The hold helps you feel the shape of his fingers which are pretty long and thick. You’ve seen them writing, typing, gripping onto the pole in the subway so the veins and tendons pop out and you’ve reached a conclusion that you need to feel them inside of you. Pumping deep and slow. Since the digits are longer than yours, they would reach that damned spot inside, turn you into a shaking, coming, mess. You crave that. 

Even before Wooshik, these dry spells weren’t uncommon. You know that it’s just your monthly horror revving up the hormones that’s making you want some dick like water in a desert but still. 

A girl has her needs. Especially when said girl is constantly hanging around a hot guy. 

Once you pull away from his neck after creating a total of three hickeys, you sit up. All of the kissing and petting and grinding has made you all sweaty so you quickly pull off your quarter-zip hoodie, leaving the plain t-shirt you have on underneath with no bra. 

Jeongguk’s eyes fall to the way your breasts lift and fall with the movement, jiggling into place as you throw the piece of clothing somewhere. The change in temperature has your nipples straining against the thin material and you can tell his attention has shifted. 

With a cocked brow, you smirk. “Want my shirt off?” You ask, slowly twisting the hem around a single finger. 

“Yeah.” 

His hands give your ass another appreciative squeeze. One that nearly has you dropping the control but you rebuild quickly. 

“Take this off then.” You place a hand down on the base of his stomach. Jeongguk’s shirt is thin so you can feel his stomach through the fabric. You need it off asap. 

Jeongguk’s lips part. You think he’s going to deny at first. Maybe he isn’t comfortable showing you his body yet. That’s okay; you don’t mind. Whatever he’s comfortable with, right? 

But in a split second, he grips the gray fabric and sits up slightly to peel it off of his body and gives you a view of what he has underneath. 

Which is just exquisite. 

Jeongguk treats his body like it’s a work of art. When he isn’t gaming or studying, he’s in the gym and he has one of the strictest meal plans you ever see. Allowing himself one cheat meal out of the week and then sticking to his rice, steamed veggie and lean meats for the rest of the days. And that dedication shows in the way his body looks. 

While still being thin and put together, his stomach is defined with steel-cut abs and his obliques are enviable along with sturdy shoulders, firm chest and deliciously bulky arms. 

You’ve never really cared about the body of whoever you were sleeping with. Muscles are nice and hot but they aren’t a necessity. Honestly, having a handsome/pretty face can get a guy farther than a six pack but now you might be changing your mind on that stance. Because Jeongguk has a pretty face and a six pack. 

Or is that a twelve pack? You didn’t really count. 

A single finger starts at Jeongguk’s sternum, tracing down his body to the waistband of his sweats, taking your time to appreciate every patch of skin and flesh. You inch backwards so you are sitting more on his thighs than his lap where his bulge is firmly straining against his pants. Looking all inviting. Your thighs clench together to relieve yourself from the lack of attention.

But before you can wrap your hands around him, Jeongguk’s fingers close around your wrist to stop you. 

“You said if I took my shirt off, you would too,” he reminds you. His tone is low, barely teetering into a domineering one. Brings a rush of arousal to your pussy and you immediately bite the inside of your cheek. 

Jeongguk ordering you around is… really hot. 

“Eager.” 

The plain t-shirt is rather unflattering on the outside so you do away with it quickly, feeling the mass of your breasts lift and bounce back down while adjusting to the temperature change. Your nipples are hard and goosebumps cover your upper body. 

But that’s mainly caused by the way Jeongguk’s eyes practically ravish you. 

You wonder if he’s more of an ass guy or a boob guy. Because his grip has stayed on the plump curve of your backside but his tongue swipes over his bottom lip while staring at your tits like he’s at the Louvre and he has two seconds to take a glance at the Mona Lisa. 

  There’s a sense of vulnerability to have him look at you like this. Like you’re something perfect when all everyone else, including yourself, does is point out your faults. 

It’s too much. You need to make a move, get his eyes off of you, so your hand goes back to the waistline of his pants where his boxer band flashes quickly. Calvin Klein, black in color to match the color of his sweatpants. 

“Can I?” You ask, looking down at the heavy print showing through the material and your mouth waters. 

Jeongguk nods immediately. “Please.” 

Carefully, you peel back the first layer of clothing. The tight elastic pressure around his waist is enough to slowly peel back Jeongguk’s boxers, exposing the beginning of his ilium but then he raises his hips some more until his sweatpants are pushed a little past the beginning of his quad muscles. You desperately want to see the sinew on his legs because you’ve been feeling them flex and move against you this entire time and they are just to your expectations. His skin is soft, a little tanned, thin hairs barely visible on his thighs from the hallowed light. 

“What do you want? My hand or my mouth?” 

You said a blowjob but whatever he wants, you will do. 

His eyes darken with lust. “Y-your hand, first,” Jeongguk stutters, shaking some hair off his sweaty forehead.  You try not to smile excitedly at the word first. 

“Okay.” 

After pressing one more kiss on his perfect nose, your palm cups his bulge. Against the material, you can see somewhat of a defined shape. It’s thick, impressive looking, and your wetness is soaking through your pants, effectively ruining the pair but that’s the least of your concerns. You fight the urge to grind into something, relieve some of the throbbing pressure from your core, clenching around nothing in hopes that it will fix. 

Jeongguk says your name carefully, checking to see if you’re still okay with continuing and your attention is back on him. You give him a wry smile in response and then work on slowly tugging his boxers off of his hips to free his cock. 

You gasp when his length slaps against his bare stomach, incapable of holding it in. 

 He’s big and thick; bigger and thicker than any guy you’ve ever been with. Jeongguk’s dick is pretty. Two veins trailing up the sides and pulsating with blood, the tip peeking with a small droplet of pearly white pre-cum. 

“Fuck,” you curse, reaching a hand forward to barely wrap around him. Your fingers manage to encompass the whole circumference but you can only accredit that to your long digits. Otherwise he would be too girthy. 

Jeongguk’s eyes flutter shut when you pump his length once. His jawline strains sexily as little puffs of air escape his lips. He looks so good when he’s pleased. As if he was made to only look like that. The emotion sits perfectly on his pretty features. 

A bead of pearly white fluid seeps from the stop, collecting slightly over the flesh-toned head. You lick your lips. “I don’t think you’ll fit in my mouth.” 

“W-what?” He stammers. 

“You’re too big, baby,” you purr, panicking momentarily about the pet name. “Shit,” swearing under your breath when you feel him twitch. Then, you let a fat drop of spit fall from your mouth and onto the head to aid your hand gliding up and down. “My throat will definitely be sore tomorrow.” 

Not that you’re complaining. 

The boy beneath you flushes. “I–” his breathing quickening when your hand works over him expertly, barely a moan. “You–um–you don’t have to,” Jeongguk offers. 

You coo, reaching forward to boop Jeongguk’s cute little nose with your free hand, still slowly jerking his cock with the other, giving the fat length a nice squeeze at the base. “But I want to,” forcing a pout and watching his gaze turn heady with euphoria. “Don’t you want me to use my mouth? To suck you off nice and properly?” 

This is new for you. You are usually rather submissive in bed and you’ve always liked it that way. If anything, you sought after guys who were more dominant because it was an immediate turn-on for you but now that you’ve made Jeongguk all pliant and soft, you can’t stop. He just looks so perfect. His eyes clench shut, creases appearing at the sides when your hands squeeze his length teasingly on the upstroke, legs going more rigid. 

Jeongguk doesn’t respond at first so you lean down, holding yourself up with one hand splayed on the mattress, right next to his head, and increase the pace of your hand. You pay special attention to the tip and the spot right under where he’s sensitive, rubbing a thumb over the area to collect more precum on the way down his cock. Jeongguk sputters out a soft noise, gritting his teeth tightly. 

“You have to tell me what you want, Jeongguk,” you muse. The tips of your noses graze, your breasts meeting his hot skin. Jeongguk’s hands, which switched to curling into the fabric of your duvet, go to your thighs to squeeze them. At that point, you decide to only stimulate the head of his cock with the pad of your thumb, rubbing teasingly tight circles while Jeongguk leaks all over, rivulets of creamy white decorating his length.  “My hands? Or my mouth? What do you want me to do?”

Jeongguk goes crazy.  His back arches off the mattress along with a high whine emitting from his swollen lips. He looks so overwhelmed with red cheeks and his hands gripping onto your body like it’s a lifeline. 

“Y-your mouth! I want your mouth, please,” he whines once more, digging his nails into your thighs, surely leaving indents. You smile, pressing a sweet kiss to his lips before descending down his taut body. 

Jeongguk is a work of art after all and you need time to appreciate him. 

Your hands stop their tortuous movement, leaving Jeongguk’s cock to hold yourself up while inching down. You kiss down the right side of his neck. The skin is salty from sweat but you don’t mind. You kiss all the marks you left, the mole on his chest, the beginning of his abs (you pay special attention to this area), licking up a stripe to feel the ridges of his body before you end up on your knees in between his legs. 

While you were kissing him, Jeongguk kicked his sweatpants off his legs, allowing you to capture a full glimpse of his meaty thighs. His skin is flawless and soft looking and you bookmark the thought of leaving red lines atop his thighs while riding him like a fucking stallion for later. 

His length deliciously twitches again from the brief lack of touch. You eye it for a split second, mouth watering, before taking the head between your lips. He throws his head back in satisfaction. 

Jeongguk tastes good. A mix of skin, salt, but he isn’t bitter; soft, pliable skin meets the plush membrane in your mouth. You moan out while your tongue circles the head, awarding you with a fresh spurt of pre-cum. 

Giving head isn’t everyone’s favorite (totally understandable) but it’s definitely yours. You don’t know why, maybe you have an oral fixation that you don’t know about, but it always makes you wet and desperate for more. Especially when the guy you’re blowing has hot moans like Jeongguk does. 

“Fuck,” he drawls out, while your tongue moves over him. He wraps a hand around the back of your hair gently, barely pushing you down to take more of him into your mouth. 

Ideally, you’d punish Jeongguk for that. If you were continuing this dominatrix stint you have going on then he shouldn’t be pushing you and trying to choke you but you drop the whole act. 

Because he feels so good. 

Your wetness is trickling down the swell of your ass as more of your mouth stretches to accommodate his length. The back of his head is about to reach the back of your throat when you wrap a hand around to pump what you can’t reach. It’ll be impossible to take him all in one go. You need to warm up first. Fat rivulets of spit trail down to his base and collect there to ease your ministrations. 

“So good,” Jeongguk praises, tangling his fingers in your hair while the wet sucking noises filter through your apartment. “You’re s-so good at this.” 

Jeongguk’s low voice isn’t helping you. Another pathetically whiny noise is muffled by his big dick going back into your mouth, swallowing around the tip as you take a little more than before. 

Swirling your mouth, using the inside of your cheek, the side of your tongue and the puckered membrane of your lips in conjunction with your nimble hands, jacking his thick cock and feeling the skin get hotter, wetter, with every second that passes by. 

He’s probably big enough to make you squirt. Though, you are the type to squirt easily, but guys around his size tend to hit the g-spot head on, to turn you into a shaking, coming, moaning mess in their arms. The thought really gets you going, imagining yourself sinking down on him like a Queen perched on her throne and spilling all over his thighs with a loud noise. 

Would he like it? Would he want to see you do it again? 

Fuck, you need a little bit of friction here. The combination of sucking him off, Jeongguk’s breathy whiny noises, and the deranged thoughts in your brain make your pussy so needy, demanding attention. 

You think about reaching back and rubbing yourself, just for a second, but your brain is too transfixed on Jeongguk. 

“P-please don’t stop-p,” he begs, “Please–Ah, yes.” Sounding like he’s about to cry. 

Your wrist flicks up during your motions while you pay special attention to the head. Jeongguk twitches some more and judging by how hard he grips your hair, he must be close. 

So you make sure your tongue stimulates all of the areas that make Jeongguk quiver in your hold. Your back arches, suckling at the skin. 

“Can I,” he interrupts himself with a moan, hands shaking, “Can I cum in your mouth?” He asks politely. 

You pull off with a breathy sigh, moving your hand to respond. “Please.” You want to taste more of him, until he’s filling your throat up completely. 

Sinking back down, you take in as much of him as you can, deep-throating his cock to the best of your abilities. It’s wet, the noises are filthy, salacious, but you don’t really care that much. Jeongguk’s cock twitches again as he spurts into your mouth, awarding you with his release as he whines throughout. 

And like a good girl, you swallow every last drop, refusing to let even a tiny drop of it go to waste. 

Jeongguk pants. His fingers slip out of your ratty hair and his hand slap over his forehead while he collects himself. His thighs shake with the aftershocks of his orgasm, sweat collected at the enticing dip of his collarbones, making his skin look like it’s speckled with diamonds. While you sit up slowly and wipe the back of your mouth, tucking his slowly softening length back into his boxers with a soft pat. 

For a few seconds, he doesn’t say anything to you. All Jeongguk does is try to catch his breath, probably slow his heart rate a bit. 

In that short period of time, your brain speeds at 100 miles per second. Did Jeongguk like it? Did Jeongguk hate it? Will he let you do it again? Oh my god, do you want to do it again and again and again. Is he uncomfortable around you now? What next? 

Your thighs are folded under you, watching Jeongguk’s stomach tense and flex as he leans on his elbows to look at you. 

His lips are adorable pouty and the hickeys look really pretty on his skin. You want so much more from him but you’re too afraid to vocalize it. You don’t want to stop. You don’t want to wake up and force this memory out of your brain. Jeongguk is so pretty and perfect and so easy to want. 

“C’mere,” he says softly, exhaling quickly with a stupid grin. Unsure if he meant his lap or right next to him, you shuffle closer until Jeongguk pats the space next to his body and you move accordingly. Hands an knees on the bed like a slinking cat. 

The air, which was once zinging with tension, has simmered down a little. Jeongguk’s arm stretches out for you to lean your head on his bicep. Up close, his eyes sparkle more than the stars in the night sky as Jeongguk pushes all of the loose strands of hair out of your sweaty face. 

“You were really good,” he repeats. “Thank you for that.” 

It feels weird to be thanked for sucking dick so you shake your head. “No need to thank me.” And because it doesn’t hurt to be truthful, you open your mouth once more. “I really wanted to.” 

Jeongguk’s expression warms; his smile gets wider and his cheeks get rounder. His thumb traces the curve of your jaw, dancing over your features like he’s trying to commit them to memory again.

“So can I return the favor?” 

Your heart leaps to your throat. You were sure Jeongguk was under the impression that this was a simple blowie, the end. Nothing else and nothing more. Even though you wanted more, you were ready to leave this romp at that but he proves you wrong once again. 

You raise an eyebrow. “You want to?” 

Most guys don’t. Most guys give up the second they cum without even offering.

But Jeongguk fucking smirks when he noticed your shocked expression. “I really want to,” he copies you. 

Fuck, you think. You put on a nice pair of underwear thinking that this would happen and then the entire tutoring session you were gaslighting yourself into thinking that nothing would ever happen and now here you are. 

There’s no doubt in your mind that you want this. Your panties are soaked and your core is aching to be touched. You need it so bad that you might never forgive yourself for turning this down.  

“Okay.” 

“Okay?” Jeongguk repeats. 

“Touch me. Please Jeongguk,” you plead with him, placing a soft hand on his warm chest. The breath is just about to escape you when he leans in to kiss you with his supple lips. 

You almost cringe. You must taste like him and you’re sure that there’s still some moisture collected in the corner of your mouth but Jeongguk doesn’t care. He licks hotly into your mouth, taking control during the kiss which surprises you completely. 

Gone is the shy whimpering boy who begged you not to stop. Jeongguk’s fingers squeeze your hips then pull one of your legs over his thighs so that you get even closer to him and your center is more exposed. That same hand travels upwards to your tits and cups the mass, and it’s your turn to shake in his hold. 

He’s starting off perfectly, like he knows what moves drive you crazy just by looking at you. 

You sigh softly when your lips break and he begins kissing down your neck. Unlike you, Jeongguk doesn’t leave any marks. Instead, he’s strategic about creating a clean line from your mouth, smooching along your jaw, then the side of your neck, to the middle of your collarbones before meeting your boobs. Jeongguk hauls you up the bed a little so he’s facing your chest instead, bringing your body closer with a splayed hand on your back. 

“Jeongguk,” you try, unsure as to why you’re calling him out. Jeongguk pays you no attention, transfixed by your naked breasts. He expels something inaudible under his breath and then takes one of your nipples into his mouth while tweaking the other, causing your body to go rigid. 

His lips wrap around the bud, sucking and circling his tongue over it while his other hand tweaks and pulls at the other. Like his tongue, his finger moves in time to turn you into a pile of mush. You grind onto nothing, wishing it was his thigh instead because you need friction from how wet and needy you’ve become in the span of like 20 minutes. 

Moaning out at the feeling of him slowly stimulating you, Jeongguk switches to the other one until your nipples are left shiny, wet, and puffy from his lips and tongue. 

He picks up fast, it seems. While kissing down your stomach, he asks you, “What do you want me to do?” Just like you did. 

“Anything,” you respond. You don’t care what he does, you just want him to do something. 

Jeongguk shakes his head. “Gotta give me a real answer,” he pulls up a little closer to your face, cupping your swollen bottom lip thanks to all of his work. “Tell me.”

“I,” you start. In all honesty, you wouldn’t mind anything from him. But you feel the length of his fingers, thick and perfect, and you remember your pressing desire of having them inside of you. “I want your fingers,” deciding on that. 

He grins softly at how cute you become when you’re overwhelmed. Jeongguk doesn’t wait around any longer, fingers going to the waistline of your yoga pants and tugging them down slowly. They’re tight, sticking to you like a second skin, so they snag along the meat of your thighs. Jeongguk doesn’t seem to mind as the fabric bunches up into a little ring and you kick it off to a random spot on your floor. 

Cold air meets your soaked underwear, making you cringe at the feeling, totally unaware of the way Jeongguk gapes at the flimsy little thing hugging your hips. He gently traces the band over your pelvis, almost like he’s hesitation. 

You open your mouth, ready to check in to see if Jeongguk still wants to do this for you or not, but before you can, his fingers dip into your panties to feel just how wet you are from him. 

His expression morphs beautifully. “You’re…” he’s speechless at first. Jeongguk’s finger trails up and down your center, barely grazing your sensitive clit. 

A whimper escapes you. His touch is feather light and barely enough yet so much all at once. 

“Fuck,” he groans, hiding his face into crook of your neck, soaking up all of your arousal while his ears and neck get bright red. You’d be embarrassed by the rushing gush coating you even more if Jeongguk’s thumb hadn’t stopped at your clit to draw tight, short, slow circles. 

Such a gentle pace, way less intense than the bullet vibrator you’ve been using, and the pressure builds gradually. One of your hands wind in his hair and the other grips his bicep, openly feeling him up. 

“Fucking soaked,” Jeongguk grits, moving his thumb a little faster. 

Your eyes shut. “Oh J–” interrupted by a shaky noise spilling from your mouth. Jeongguk takes that as a good sign, deciding to torture you even further by moving his lips back to your stiffened nipples and using his tongue to suck and lick at them as if you aren’t already sensitive. 

“You’re pretty too, noona,” Jeongguk says, looking at you this time. Slowly, your eyes peel open to find his big brown irises glimmering at you. “I think you’re beautiful. Always have.” 

You blush immediately. You don’t know why this feels so intensely intimate, like a pan that’s gotten too hot. Is it Jeongguk’s tone, the fact that he’s so close, the way he looks at you to make sure you know and understand him? What is it that has you so stupefied by such a simple comment? 

Boys have called you pretty before, called you much worse too, but you should be used to it. Over the years you’ve started to develop a thick skin but this one gets to you. 

That flutter of butterflies comes back, dancing from the tip of your toes all the way to your head. Jeongguk has seen you grow, from a kid to a pre-teen and now an adult. 

And he still finds you beautiful. Even after every embarrassing phase. 

You begin to smile, cupping his cheeks and leaning down to press a short kiss to his lips, then the corner of his lips, his cheek and his nose, because he deserves it and he’s cute. 

“Thanks,” you mean it, even if the sweet moment cut all of the flourishing beginnings of an orgasm from you and Jeongguk’s fingers halted, out of your underwear and holding your hip instead. 

Jeongguk mirrors your expression. Then he looks down at where his hand is and back up at you, nervously tonguing his cheek. “Can I move now?” 

You nod your head yes quickly after he asks. 

“And…” Jeongguk still looks awkward. You go back to cupping his soft cheeks. “Tell me if I’m doing okay?”

You want to melt in his grip. “Of course, Guk.” Thumb swiping over his cheekbone affectionately. 

Jeongguk takes that as the greenlight and slips his fingers back into your underwear. His gaze is on you, studying your features when his thumb goes back to your clit while his middle finger teases around your opening. You clench, desperate for something to slip inside of you, lifting your hips up in hope that Jeongguk would take the hint and put his fingers inside but he continues collecting your arousal to get his digits wet enough. 

“Jeongguk,” you call tightly, digging your nails into the meat of his shoulders. He hums in response. “I need more.” 

His thumb decides to go faster at your demand but not fast enough and his middle finger still traces your opening instead of slipping inside. 

“More?” He repeats, lilting his voice teasingly. 

Shithead. 

“Yes, more.”  You want to whine, kick your legs even. 

He can feel how wet you’ve gotten, does he not know how much you want this? 

“You want my fingers?” 

“Yes,” you grumble but it sweetens at the end because his thumb starts moving faster over your clit and you feel the waves of pleasure swirling in your stomach, turning into a half-moan. 

Jeongguk angles his hand a little differently and, gently, pushes his middle finger inside you. He groans at the feeling of you. “So tight,” breathing out against your skin. 

You react immediately, throwing your head back. There’s a slight pinch but it's not even the slightest bit painful. The intrusion is welcomed; although small, you need it. Jeongguk’s finger is nice and long and he pistons it out of you with so much care while hitting just the spot. 

“Fuck, right there,” you moan out, turning your face into the soft material of your sheets, eyes rolling back.

Jeongguk slips another finger in and he stops teasing your throbbing bundle of nerves to focus fully on moving his digits, curving them upwards to your walls as you release a symphony of noises. Finding that soft spongy part inside of you and massaging it. 

“F-faster please, please, go faster,” begging him out of the fear that he’ll tease you just like he was doing before. 

But Jeongguk plays fair and fingers you even faster, upping the ante even more by removing his free hand and pressing down on your lower stomach, right before your pelvis. 

And you lose it. 

The pressure from his hand on top, plus the way his fingers are moving, just becomes too much. The  gradual pressure starts accelerating and accelerating until it drops like a rollercoaster and you feel a burst of tingling pleasure rush through your veins and all over your body. 

“I’m cumming!” Crying out, tears pooling inside your eyes streaming down your cheeks as your legs shake with the crashing waves of your orgasm. 

Different than when you do it. As good as your vibrator is, something about it has yet to make you orgasm like this. Heavy, powerful, almost numbing. Waves crash inside you, again and again, cresting at the peak and slowly simmering out into a soft current and then nothing at all. 

Your breath comes out in heavy pants, limbs feeling like jelly, slowly opening your eyes to find Jeongguk staring back at you in bewilderment. His lips are parted but his cheeks aren’t red with embarrassment. If anything, he looks like the complete opposite of that. 

Like he could watch you do that again and again. Something you would gladly agree with. 

Jeongguk takes his fingers out from your underwear, glistening with your arousal, and before you can offer him a napkin, he slips his digits into his mouth and cleans them off. You really begin to question if this man is a virgin or secretly a sex god waiting to be discovered. He’s way better than you were when you were inexperienced. Does he watch a lot of porn?

Or do Taehyung and Jimin just talk about sex around him too much? Must be that. 

“Mmh,” his fingers come out with a soft pop noise, “You taste amazing.” Jeongguk’s clean hand brushes some hair out of your face as he smiles. You lean into his touch like a purring kitten, curling into his chest because your entire body feels weak. 

“You okay?” Jeongguk asks, closing his arms around you. 

Nodding into his chest, “Yeah. Felt really good.” You want to say more but there’s no energy for you to do so. 

“Did it? You looked really hot when,” trailing off, you know what he means, and you press a kiss to his chest. “Kinda want to see it again.” 

That takes your attention. 

Removing the fact that you haven’t been touched in a bit, two orgasms from Jeongguk might put your legs out of commission and that was just with his fingers. You can’t imagine what it would be like with more of him, especially as he learns more about how to pleasure you and gets better. Your poor vibrator might be out of a job. 

“I would love to, but you definitely wore me out.” Pulling your face away, you look up at his perfectly crafted face. “Can we try that another time?” 

Another time, you get giddy even before he agrees. After getting addicted to Jeongguk’s touch, you don’t want to entertain the idea of this being a one time thing. 

“Of course.” And neither does he. 

Jeongguk kisses the top of your head gently, rubbing soothing circles on your back. You tangle your legs with his, inhaling his scent and doing your best not to fall asleep. 

It feels sticky and wet between your legs. You should change and you should get ready for bed. Jeongguk probably wants to go back to his house, right? He probably doesn’t want to stick around your place after what just happened. 

But you think about it and that’s the farthest thing you want. 

Being in his arms, you feel safe and protected, like you drifted off to another dimension where nothing bad has ever happened and you were still the girl you were when you left Busan. Happy and lively. 

You don’t want him to leave you. You don’t want this to be another shitty hookup or one-time thing that makes both of you blush and walk-away. You just want Jeongguk to be in your life. 

So you hold on tight, avoiding his eyes when you ask: “Do you want to stay here with me tonight?”

Please, please, you beg internally. You’ll make breakfast, there’s a pack of toothbrushes under your sink, anything. Just stay. 

And thankfully, Jeongguk responds without wasting another second of your time, putting you at ease once again.  

“Please.”

a/n: okay yes, that was a lot but more smut will come and more angst will follow!

taglist:

@iwuzhere

[eremin0109]

So I just played the entire Majima introduction scene in Kiwami 2 and suffice to say I'm having some t h o t s. After having to sit through that awkward af scene where Kaoru undresses in front of Kiryu and then has a heart-to-heart with him about wanting to find out about her past (like seriously? if y'all wanted show them bonding just do THAT?? Do they need to sexualise that encounter like fucking look at the way the camera positions on Kaoru's breasts while she's genuinely talking about wanting to find out the truth. men at sega are truly limp dicked bastards istg) it was such a breath of fresh air to FINALLY go and see Majima.

Like at the Tojo HQ I almost screamed when Kiryu found the demonfire knife in Terada's backroom and was all like "I'd recognise that dagger anywhere..." like we know baby. You've got scars on your body the shape of the dagger's edge, of course you'd recognise it! And then the conviction with which he says that Majima is the only one who can save the clan from falling apart when Yayoi and Kashiwagi are both apprehensive about it is just...*chef's kiss*.

The actual meeting scene takes the cake of course. Kiryu brings that damn dagger with him to Purgatory and tosses it to the ground like some sort of a mating call to Majima, like he knows that's the only way he'll actually respond. And then what follows is just Sayama being obviously third-wheeled the entire time these gay bitches are in proximity to each other. Like I'm pretty sure the use of the very possessive sounding "my Kiryu-chan" definitely raised her eyebrows. (Not to mention, his dialogue with Sayama comes off more or less catty. The nicknames he calls her feel patronizing, like he dismisses her being anything more than another arm candy. Of course that is until the "I'm a cop" reveal lmao, that sobers him up pretty fucking fast).

And of course then Kiryu is more or less begging Majima to come back to the Tojo, bowing his head low in reverence and desperation and a bit of selfishness too because he KNOWS Majima won't be able to say no. Not to him, HIS Kiryu-chan. And Majima surely just reinforces that fact by saying "Ya know I can't bear seeing ya like this..." They're both pretty fucking aware of the fact that Majima has a big ol' soft spot for Kiryu (and now, thanks to all of this shit happening right in front of her salad, Sayama does too).

But the real highlight of the scene comes after, during Kiryu's entry into the coliseum where Majima is just so shamelessly checking him out through the cage it's not even subtle. But we all know that already.

What we don't know is the fact that its Kiryu who looks at him first and he just keeps looking at Majima's direction after winning against Di Sciuva:

against Gary Buster Holmes:

Kiryu knows Majima's eyes have constantly been on him throughout the tournament. And so it's not even entirely subtle that he's making sure Majima's having a good time because all of this is basically a show Kiryu's putting on for his eyes, hoping it'd be impressive enough to convince him to come back to Tojo clan. But I'm willing to bet anything that some part of Kiryu thoroughly enjoyed that shit too.

Everyone and their mother knows what comes next, gay sex in a caged fight, but still I will never get tired of going absolutely bonkers over Majima's entry scene. Everything about it is just so powerful and sensual and just so fucking cool.

It SCREAMS reciprocation. Majima is basically like 'Kiryu-chan gave me such a spectacular show it'd be such a shame not to return the favour' and then he just presents himself like THAT to Kiryu, in all his glory and asks him all smugly whether he likes the fucking view. That was so cunty of him UGH.

and Kiryu is just so fucking amused and he VERY MUCH VISIBLY likes what he's seeing. his body language, the way his voice drips with something dangerously close to fondness, that damn li'l smile like Kazuma Kiryu you're so fucking gay for this man it's embarrassing~

Their post-fight scene has a different fanbase altogether, because goddamnit Kiryu do be looking at Majima like he wants to wreak him all ways to Sunday.

This is one of the few times through the 3 Yakuza games I've played that I've genuinely found Kiryu to be smokin' hot. Like I don't think he's EVER smirked like that at anyone, much less a female love interest. There's just so much going on on his face (bless the dragon engine graphics) and good GOD every bit of it is downright filthy.

He fucked that man, hard (or got dicked down within an inch of his life). PERIODT.

Sjsjdjdjrowjehejkeje I don't think we talk enough about Majima here. The way he looks down then slowly back up to Kiryu while a little smile plays on his lips, the way he lowers his voice to that sultry af tone and he invites Kiryu for a drink, almost as if it's an inside thing for them both, as if it's code for "hey, wanna fuck nasty on my desk?" And Kiryu, for once in his life, picks right up on that, and then fucking smirks like THAT because of course he wants to fuck, what kind of a question is that?

Like there's just no other feasible way to explain this interaction. Y'all know if this exact scene was between Kiryu and Sayama, they'd have been all over each other in the next scene.

But because it's SEGA's two leading men, they settled for the most obvious insinuation possible that it just makes it way more horny than if they'd just straight away fucked. I said what I said.

[undeadcannibal]

Soap with a reader that has a boot kink?

Summary: Soap teases a Reader that has a boot kink!

Pairing: Johnny “Soap” MacTavish/Reader

Genre: oneshot, smut, request(s)

Word count:780

Warnings: boot kink and nsf/t content in general.

A/N: *foams at the mouth* Y’all don’t understand -- I’d get on my hands and knees and bark like a dog if any of these men asked me to. *coughs* ANYWAY, I hope you enjoy this, Anon. It was another fun one~ ( Gif credit: xxx )

When he first finds out that you have a kink for boots and the like, he can't help but keep the information to himself for a while. Making sure not to mention that he's well aware of it whenever you're around. Instead, he chooses to think long and hard about just what he plans to do to you now that he has this information. At first, he wants to go all in and jump right into the deep end of the kink with you, but rational thinking convinces him otherwise. He decides to treat it just as seriously as he would any other kink you'd like to try with him. Before he ends up doing anything, he spends a good while just researching the kink and what those that have it particularly enjoy about it.

After he's had his fill of studying, Soap ends up spending his down time - while away from you, of course - checking up on porn related to the kink. Discovers what he likes and doesn't like about certain aspects of it. In time, when he's good and ready, that's when he finally admits that he's known for a while. However, he wanted to go about things the right way. As such, his approach isn't sexually passionate right off the bat. Instead, it's very safe, casual, and reassuring. He lets you know that even though he's aware of your kink, he won't push you to do anything you don't want to. If you aren't in the mood to indulge your fantasies in a real experience, he doesn't mind at all. If you would like to though, he's completely game. Asking you what you don't and do like about it before rushing into anything with you.

If anything, once he does have your explicit permission to do something, he goes about things leisurely. He makes sure to draw out the teasing as much as he possibly can. He lines up his pairs of boots inside your bedroom in front of you, gauging which pair you seem to like the most before selecting those exact ones. Once he's put the rest aside and changed into your favorite pair, he's ordering you to kneel on the floor before him. After you're in position, he's nudging your thighs apart with one of his feet. Delighting in the sight of your chest moving faster as your excitement picks up. For a while, he simply rubs the toe of his boot along your knees and lower thigh. Eventually, he works his way up to your inner thighs, smirking down at you as he watches your hips squirm in response to him being so close to your groin. When he finally does allow himself to slip his boot forward, your mouth parts in a soft groan the moment the toe of his boot comes in contact with your core.

"Like that, do ya' love?"

He's mean in the manner in which he strokes the toe of his boot against your mound, stroking you through the fabric of your underwear. He'd liked the thought of getting you so worked up he'd see the slick of your excitement wetting the crotch of your underwear. So much so, he picked up the movement of his ministrations: lightly digging in the toe of his boot directly beneath your clitoris and began to wiggle it. Causing you to gasp and arch your back as small sparks of pleasure began to warm a familiar fire deep within your belly. Your hands curled into fists at your sides as you struggled not to please yourself otherwise, knowing damn well Johnny would stop what he was doing until you did so.

Johnny shifted his weight from foot to foot a bit to get into a comfortable position before he picked up the pace of his teasing. Jiggling the toe beneath your sensitive bundle of nerves till he had you whining and panting for more. Practically pleading for him to do whatever he pleased so long as he made you come that way. The thought pleased Soap so much, he figured he'd indulge you sooner than he initially planned to. Praising you as he began to alternate between stimulating your clitoris by stroking the toe of his boot over the aching nub, and even pulling back just enough to lightly kick at your now slick cunt. Groaning as he watched you yelp and moan aloud, thick thighs spreading apart even further to allow him to do as he pleased.

Needless to say, by the time Johnny was done with you, he'd gotten his wish. The crotch of your underwear was sporting a dark wet spot, as well as the tip of his boot.

[final-girl96]

Broken World: Chapter Forty-Eight

Days Later

Rick wasn't doing so well. He had gone to the boiler room where Lori had died. He was going around killing walkers around that area. Daryl found Caryl in a small supply room, dehydrated and exhausted. T-Dog died protecting her.

I couldn't sit still. I didn't care how much pain I was in, I moved around, pacing back and forth in my cell. I needed to get out. I needed to go outside before I went stir crazy.

I took a deep breath of fresh air, well, as fresh as it can get with rotting corpses walking around. I leaned against the brick wall and looked out into the distance. There wasn't much to look at, of course. There was just the prison yard and the woods that surrounded the prison itself. Walkers roamed outside the fences. We were hidden out of sight from the world. You couldn't see the prison from the road, not unless you looked down the hill from where we saw it.

It was a safe place for now, as safe as it can get at least. It wasn't an ideal place to be living, but it had fences, walls, and a roof. We wouldn't have to worry about moving every day or staying in one place for only a few minutes or hours. We had the forest around us, which meant Daryl could set traps up to try and get meat. We had the stuff from the cafeteria, mostly rice, but that was better than nothing.

“What're ya doin out here?”

I looked to my left to see Daryl walking towards me, a cigarette hanging from his mouth. “I needed some fresh air.” He hummed and walked closer to me. “And you came out here to get it?”

“Yeah, I guess I did. Not the freshest of air, but it'll do.” I nodded my head to the cigarette hanging from his lips. “How can you stand to smoke? Aren't all the cigarettes stale?”

Daryl shrugged, taking a drag and then exhaling. He leaned against the wall beside me. “Don't mind too much. Old habits are hard to break. You feeling any better? Not in any pain?”

I shook my head, “No, I'm fine. I just couldn't sit in there anymore. I was starting to go stir crazy. Last thing we need is for someone else to walk around in a catatonic state. Speaking of, how is Rick doing? Has he come back from the boiler room?”

Daryl took another drag from his almost finished cigarette, exhaled it through his nose, and shook his head. “No. He came back briefly to check on Carl and he held the baby, but then went right back to it.”

“His wife died, in a horrible way. He couldn't even bury her. I'd be fucked up too.”

Daryl grunted, stomping his cigarette on the ground with his boots. His bottom lip was between his teeth. “Do you wanna keep watch up in the tower with me tonight? That way–that way you can get outta there tonight.”

I looked over at him and smiled. “Yeah, actually, that would be great. I'll meet you at the tower tonight.”

Daryl nodded his head, pulled out another cigarette, and lit it. “Meet me at around six.”

“Right, yeah, six…”

“You'll know when the sky is low on the horizon. Western sky. You can't miss it.”

I nodded my head, gotta ya.” Daryl squinted at me and let out a long heavy sigh. “I'll just come get ya.” I smiled at him, “Good idea. I'll see then. I'm gonna go eat something. You should do the same.”

When the time for Daryl to go out to the tower for his watch shift he came and got me at my cell. I was sitting criss-criss-crossed on the top bunk reading. “Ya ready?” I looked up and nodded, “Yeah, let me finish this page and I'll meet you there.”

After I finished the page I was on I marked my place and got off the bunk. I grabbed my jacket, knife, and gun, and headed out to meet Daryl. “Okay, I'm ready, let's go keep watch.”

We walked to the tower to the right of the gate as you headed out to the yard. Daryl went inside first, walking up the stairs and pushing the door open. I climbed up after, taking his outstretched hand so he could help me the rest of the way. When we were both in, Daryl pushed the door closed.

We sat in silence for a good long while. Daryl stood outside on the small walkway That wrapped around the tower. His elbows leaned on the railing, a cigarette burned and glowed red between his fingers. I sat on the thin mattress and blankets that he had set up in here earlier.

The nights were still a little chilly so I had my jacket wrapped around me and a blanket over my lap. I should have brought my book. I didn't realize I would be so damn bored. I've kept watch with Maggie before when Glenn couldn't do it, and we always talked. We talked about old times, high school and college, boys. It was never boring. But here with Daryl…it was awkward.

Maybe I should just go. He was probably just being nice anyway, and felt bad for what happened to me. I took a deep breath and slowly stood up. “Hey, I think I'm going to go and let you have your alone time.” I brushed myself off and walked to the hatch on the floor. “Stay.” I paused and looked back at Daryl. He wasn't looking in my direction, still over at the railing looking out into the darkness. “Are you sure? I don't want to be in your way or anything.”

“Ain't in my way.” He flicked the butt of his cigarette over the edge and turned around. He walked back into the tower and sat down on the mattress, knees up, and arms leaning on the top of his knees. He tilted his head back and closed his eyes.

I stood in the same spot, just looking at him. His hair was getting a little longer and the dark blonde was turning darker. He was a very attractive man. What wasn't to like about him? He was gorgeous. His attitude sucked, but everything else was good. His arms were arms that couldn't help but want to bite; however weird that was, it was true. My mind always went back to that one Christmas in the hotel room. His body was exquisite; especially that perfection he had between his legs.

“Ya gonna stand there and stare?”

I jumped a little from the sudden noise of his voice. “Sorry, I was just thinking.”

“About?”

“The past. Before we had that falling out. How we used to always be together. How we were each other's support system. Now we're practically strangers. I guess…I don't know, it's kind of awkward. I feel like…like maybe I'm just in your way. I know you don't really like me all that much anymore. I don't want you to feel like you have to talk to me or protect me or whatever.”

Daryl didn't say anything for a few long minutes. I could feel the anxiety bubbling up in my stomach. I don't hate ya. You're not 8n my way. I do like you. M' Sorry for treatin’ ya the way I did. I was about Merle. I know you were only doin’ yer job. When you left without even saying anything…I don't know…I was more mad at myself for pushin’ ya away.”

I walked over and sat down beside, criss-crossing my legs. “You know, whenever I was having a hard time, my mind, it always went to you. I would wish you were there so I could talk to someone about all the shit I was dealing with. When I was made lead detective at the precinct, you were the first person I wanted to tell. When I was held captive by Larson…”

“Hold up, that asshole kidnapped you?”

I nodded my head, “Yeah, he did. It didn't make sense though as to why he took me. I wasn't anything like the girls he went after. Well, maybe a little, I was in the age range and the height range. He had been stalking me for a couple weeks before he broke into my apartment. We were closing in on him, so we think he took me as a way to bargain maybe. There was one other girl there; she fit the bill perfectly. Long brown hair, almost to her waist, bright green eyes.

I had to sit there and watch as he assaulted and tortured her for days. He didn't touch me though. He never laid a finger on me. He only had my feeting tied together and my hands tied behind my back, and he had me gagged. He made me watch him when he did everything to her. He made me watch as he set her free and then when he ran after her. Larson would beat his victims until they could barely stand.

When he was done with them he would set them free in the middle of the woods naked. Tell them if they made it to the road they were free, but if he caught them…she was the only one to make it to the road. She was very lucky and very determined. She never gave up. When she ran out into the road she was ironically almost hit by a police officer. She was able to lead them to the old abandoned building Larson was held up in. I could have killed him once they untied me. I almost did, but I hesitated. I instead testified against him in court and watched as the judge gave him the death penalty.”

Daryl was quiet for a long while. So instead of waiting to see what he would say, I continued. “There were a few times while I was with him that I had a dream about you coming and rescuing me like some knight in shining armor.” That got a snort out of him. “More like a redneck in a sleeveless flannel.”

Daryl scoffed and shook his head, the smallest of smirks tugged at the corner of his mouth. I started to laugh and bumped my shoulder into his. “You're ridiculous. Ain't no hero.” I turned my body towards him, “You're a hero to me. You've saved me more than once, Daryl, in more ways than one.”

[jacobsnicket]

fictober prompt 6: “i’m not giving up” | gravity falls | T

read on ao3

As he works, Ford can hear the tap-tap-tap of the other Fiddleford’s foot as his leg bounces. The noise is simultaneously comforting and maddening.

“Erm, Stanford…” he starts, chewing on his bottom lip.

It was maddening, he decides. Definitely maddening.

Ford sighs. “What is it?”

”It’s just… are ya sure you should go?”

“Fiddleford, don’t be—“

But he’s already on a roll, and there’s nothing Ford can say to make him stop. “So many other yous come through here, an’ they all want the same thing, right? They all wanna kill that demon. An’ I try to help, of course I do, how could I not, but… none of them ever come back here. I don’t know if any of them are still out there or if…” 

Ford doesn’t have to guess what he’s implying there.

“An’ as far as I know,” he keeps going, “that one-eyed demon’s still out there. I’m sick of it, Stanford, I really am. I know it’s all you but it really does feel like I’m sendin’ y’all off to die. Just…”

The other Fiddleford takes his hand, almost subconsciously tracing his fingers across the knuckles. Ford flinches at the contact.

“So many people’ve tried to do it, an’ I believe in ya, but I’ve believed in ya before, and that didn’t matter then. I just want ya to stay safe.”

“I’m not giving up,” Ford hisses, wrenching his hand from his grip. “I’m so close, I’m going to do it. I have to do it. I’m not stopping now.”

He remembers scrawling in his journal the last time he saw his Fiddleford, that weak-willed hayseed, too cowardly to do what has to be done. He banishes the memory as soon as it appears. This is different. That was selfish. This is saving the world. Those were his mistakes. This is him fixing them.

He doesn’t know how he expected Fiddleford to respond, but it isn’t with laughter. He sounds resigned, a touch bitter. “You’re all the same, ya know? So damn stubborn.”

-

The plan feels like genius as soon as Stan thinks of it. McGucket was smart enough to build that death ray he’d chased off last week. He probably wouldn’t even remember working on the portal the next day. And even if he did, who’d believe Old Man McGucket when he said Stan Pines was keeping a door to another dimension under his house?

So that’s what leads to him pushing McGucket through the door at the crack of dawn. Thankfully, he doesn’t have to check if anyone sees him on the way down to the basement. Perks of living alone.

McGucket keeps twisting at his beard and tapping his feet as they go down to the third floor. Stan wants to pick him up and shake him, just to shut him up.

“So where’s this… machine ya needed help with?”

“It’s just here,” Stan says, leading him into the portal room. “It’s pretty big, you’ll know it when you see it.”

Then McGucket sees the portal and screams, high and grating and terrified, and he bolts straight for the door.

Stan does pick him up at that, though he doesn’t shake him. The hillbilly’s doing too much shaking already.

“Hey, what’s with you? You said you were gonna help!”

“That thing stinks of danger worse than a pig in July. I’m not touchin’ it!” Then he starts mumbling gibberish. Great.

Maybe McGucket was a lost cause. He couldn’t even bribe the guy! When he’d tried, the hillbilly had just stuffed the bills in his mouth and thanked him for the snack.

“Well, I’m fixing it with or without ya, so either ya help me or ya leave.”

“There are some things ya shouldn’t mess with, Stanford, an’ I’m pretty sure that’s one of them.”

“I’m not giving up!” The words are harsher than he wants them to be. The sound echoes through the room. “Guess I’m doing it without you then.”

He drops McGucket back at the porch. He’ll leave him to find his own way home. It was nice for a bit, to think that he’d have someone to help him, but he should’ve known.

These were his mistakes. No one was gonna fix them but him.

[aparticularbandit]

Of A Fatal Captivity: Day Six (III)

Summary: When do they decide that she can’t leave? That they’re going to keep her there no matter what she wants? That’s the day her captivity begins. Is that today?

Some of you will think that this beginning is a gimmick. Up to you! Think what you want! (It’s not a gimmick more than anything else in writing is a gimmick, which is to say, of course, it’s a gimmick, because that’s all writing is, really, isn’t it? A bunch of gimmicks? Some of them more successful than others? Isn’t that why we have tropes? The trappings of a Tragedy to tell us whether that’s really what the story is or not? (Do you know the story you’re in?))

Enough games.

You’re here for something better than that.

Or: Junko Enoshima’s factory reset may or may not be going as planned, and Ryoko Otonashi has plenty of things to say about that. Or will, once she realizes what’s going on.

Chapter Rating: T.

Fic Rating: M for Danganronpa reasons.

TW for Perceived Threat of Sexual Assault.

@princescar drew art of Ryoko in the new outfit described below! Check it out here! EDIT: AND HERE!

AO3

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Book One

Day Six (of a Fatal Captivity).

Ryoko runs.

She’s not really sure where she’s running to because this is the first time she’s been out of the hospital room – she knows the way back to it from the room she was in, but she most certainly doesn’t want to go back there again (both because she’s still sick and tired of being in that room and also because it would be really easy for Mikan to find her there, and also because if that’s the only hospital room in this entire building (it might be! she doesn’t know!), then of course, Mikan would take Hiyoko there, and as much as she maybe wants to hide from Mikan, she wants to hide from Hiyoko more) – so she’s running the exact opposite direction, even though she has no idea where that will go.

She just knows that it will go away.  And she desperately, desperately wants to run away from whatever it was that she just did.

Mikan calls her name, or Ryoko thinks she does, and as she turns to look back, she runs head first into someone else, another person that she hasn’t met and doesn’t remember.  Ryoko tumbles backwards and starts to fall, only for a pair of strong, gloved hands to grip her arms, to hold her up, to keep her steady.  She looks up at him with wide, frightened eyes.

“Miss…Miss Junko?” the man in front of her asks, his bloody pink eyes like raw meat staring at her with shock.  (His teeth look like piranha teeth, but he doesn’t look like he’ll devour the world like the girl with piranha teeth would.)  He searches her face with confusion, then asks, “That is who ya are, right?”

Ryoko shakes her head furiously.  “I’m Ryoko,” she says, just like she’s been saying for the past few days.  “Ryoko Otonashi.  I don’t know who Junko is, but—”

“Miss Ryoko, then.”  The man’s eyes soften.  Then they wander.

Ryoko can’t help it; she shivers with discomfort.  Her gaze drops, and her cheeks flush a bright red.  “I’m…I’m sorry, can…can I just—”  She tries to move away from him, but his grip on her arms tightens.  Her heart beats hard in her chest.  It’ easy, to focus on the single pink braid framing one side of his face, although when she thinks of a braid like that, she thinks it should be another color entirely (something softer), on someone else.

(She doesn’t understand why she should think that.)

“Ya need something ta wear.”  The man’s hands run down her arms until they take her hands in his own gloved ones.  (Someone else should be wearing gloves, too.)  Then he gives her hands a gentle squeeze.  “I’d give ya one of my jumpsuits, but they’re all greasy.”  His head tilts to one side.  “Miss Sonia might have something ta fit ya?”

His voice is soft.

Gentle.

Ryoko glances up again and meets his eyes.  “Miss Sonia?”

He nods and then grins, all those pointed teeth flashing and bright.  “She’s the best!”  Then he pauses, gaze shifting.  “Other than you, course.  I-I-I mean, other than Miss Junko.”  He winks.

“A-A-And you are…?” Ryoko asks, her voice trailing off and uncertain.

“Kazuichi Soda.  But call me Kaz.  Everyone does.”  His expression softens.  “It’s real scary, isn’t it, not remembering stuff?  Man, I’d hate that.”  He drops one of her hands to rub the back of his neck and then gives the other another gentle squeeze.  “Miss Sonia will be real good for ya!  Our princess will know what ta do!”  Then he turns and tugs Ryoko down the hall, further away from the hospital room and the mess she’d left behind.

Ryoko glances over her shoulder, and this time, she catches a glimpse of Mikan standing just outside of the room she’d left, her hands held high, her head hanging, her gaze uncertain.  Then she turns back and follows Kaz away.

~

“Hey, Miss Sonia?”  Kaz pounds on a door that, to Ryoko, seems chosen at random.  “Miss Sonia!”

Ryoko catches the barest hint of an unhappy groan from the other side of the door.

Whatever it is, Kaz pretends he doesn’t hear it, even as he winces at the sound.  “Miss, ah.  Miss Ryoko needs your help!”

That gets whoever is inside moving.  Ryoko can hear the sound of ruffling before the door creaks open.  A woman with hair so light it might as well be white (but isn’t) and a crown resting atop her platinum waves peeks around the door.  Her eyes – silver, with just a tinge of red, like a kitchen knife after chopping beef for stew – alight on Ryoko and then widen.  “Is this—”

“Miss Ryoko,” Kaz says again, insistent.  He flashes Ryoko a gentle smile.  “Looks like Ibuki did up her hair real nice.  She do that braid, too?”

Ryoko shakes her head.  “I did that myself.  Someone told me it helps keep my hair from getting tangled.”  She nervously pulls the braid over her shoulder and runs her fingers along it.

Kaz leans forward.  “Ya know, Miss Sonia’s a queen!”  His eyes light up.  “She’s the absolute best!”

“I…I thought you said she was a princess,” Ryoko starts to say, confused.

“Oh, she’s that, too!”  Kaz beams.  “Miss Sonia is—”

“That is quite enough!”  The woman – Sonia, if Kaz is right – reaches through the door and takes Ryoko’s hand in her long fingers.  She speaks in a weird sort of accent, but it isn’t hard to understand.  “Here, let me help you!”  She tugs Ryoko gently inside.

“W-wait!  Miss Sonia!”

Sonia shuts the door in Kaz’s face.  Then she turns to Ryoko with the slightest head tilt and a bright smile.  “It is a pleasure to meet you, Ryoko!  Your towel is most appealing!”

“That’s!  Um!”  Ryoko flushes again, uncertain if Sonia’s comment is a joke or genuine.  She sounds genuine, so she chooses to believe her.  Still, she doesn’t want to wear a towel forever, especially with the way it keeps slipping.  She pulls it up again, then says, “That’s actually why Kaz brought me to you, I think.”  She glances over her shoulder at the closed door.  It feels like she’s been dropped into a whole world of stuff she doesn’t know and doesn’t understand, like everyone around her knows something she doesn’t.

Probably because she has been and they do.

Not that knowing that makes her feel any better.

Ryoko’s gaze drops.  “Hiyoko said I was supposed to borrow her clothes, and then she made fun of Yasuke, and then I blacked out, and I…I….”  She bites her lower lip and shakes her head.  “You don’t need to know all that.”

“No, I do not.”  Sonia’s expression changes, brows pressing down on nearly closed lids.  “And I am not sure that my clothes are quite your size.”  She steps back, hands gentle on Ryoko’s shoulders, and gives her a general glance over, appraising her.  “I am too big for you, and again—”  Her gaze lands on Ryoko’s chest, and she doesn’t blush.  “—too small.”

Ryoko flushes an even brighter red.  “Better than a towel?”

“Yes, I suppose it will be.”  Sonia stands back again and clasps her hands in front of her.  Her examination feels less uncomfortable than Kaz’s wandering eyes had, more of an appraisal than…well, an appraisal.  Then she taps her fingertips together, and her eyes light up.  “I know just what might fit you!”  She takes Ryoko’s hand in hers, pauses, and then gently lifts it to her lips.

“Eeeeh?”  Ryoko wants to leap back and nearly does, except that the door is right there, except that she doesn’t want to hit her back on the doorknob or her head on the door.  She stares at Sonia with confusion before Sonia moves forward and kisses both of her cheeks.  “Wh-wh-wh-what—”

Sonia smiles, a small thing.  “In my country, this is how we greet fellow royalty.”

“B-but I’m…I’m n-n-not.”  Ryoko can’t keep the stutter out of her voice.  “I-I’m not royalty.”

But Sonia just hums.  “I might be queen of my country,” she says, “but you….”  She sighs, soft and full of longing.  “You were queen of the world.”

~

It takes more than a few shifts of clothes before Sonia finds something that adequately fits Ryoko and that Ryoko likes.

Which sounds like it shouldn’t be an issue, because in Ryoko’s mind, very little would be worse than the towel.  But then she tries on some of Sonia’s clothes and reconsiders.  So many of them are frilly gowns like the one Sonia is wearing – more than just ball gowns, although a few of them Sonia offers are that as well.  Ryoko grimaces even looking at them, although she feels horrible for reacting that way when Sonia is only trying to help, but she’s also endlessly grateful that those are fitted exactly to Sonia’s shape and so don’t fit her at all.  And besides all of that, Ryoko….

Something in her looks at all the tulle and silk and satin and frills and feels nearly as uncomfortable as she did with the bright bubblegum pink hair and the equally bright blue eyes that look like they belong to someone else entirely.  Even when the clothes fit, her skin crawls worse than her brain itches when she’s trying to remember something she can’t remember.  As much as she hates to admit it, the towel is better than that.

But then.

But then.

Sonia off-handedly shoves a deep, deep navy blue suit into her hands, and Ryoko maybe falls a bit in love.  The pants are a little loose, but a shining black leather belt mostly clears that up, and she can’t button the blazer, but she finds that doesn’t really matter.  The white button-up only buttons halfway anyway, and she trades it out for a soft, pale lavender blouse that tucks in just so, that buttons until it can’t – and then the blazer helps hold everything together.

Ryoko rolls the sleeves up, flares the lavender collar so that there are still traces of it around the edges of that deep, deep blue.  That feels right.  Looks right.  She tugs on her sleeves just so and then hesitates.  Something…something’s missing.  Her brows furrow.  What’s—?

Oh!  Right!  If she’s in a suit, then—

She pokes her head out of the bathroom.  “Do you…do you have a tie?”

~

Ryoko eventually leaves the bathroom with the slightly too large blazer and matching pants, the slightly too tight lavender blouse, and a violently violet silk tie knotted just beneath her chest, which feels odd but also somehow right.  Nothing really fits the way it should – or maybe, to an extent, it does.  It doesn’t fit her the way she is now, but it fits her maybe the way she should be, if she weren’t so thin, other than around her chest.  She tried not to look in the mirror too much as she changed, but she could see how her ribs poked out under her skin, how absolutely skeletal she appeared in her reflection, and it made her….

Uncomfortable.

More than uncomfortable.

“Were they not feeding me?” Ryoko asks Sonia when she finds her sitting on a fancy, engraved wooden chair outside.  “The place Mikan said I was rescued from, were they not feeding me?”  She runs her hands along the side of the blazer, feels her own ribs protruding against its seams, and winces.  Her stomach doesn’t even rumble, but she’s tired.

Sonia pats a chair next to her, the seat of which holds a plush sapphire velvet cushion.  She offers Ryoko a smile as she does.  “My clothes, they are not too terribly much of a bother, are they?”

Ryoko sits next to her.  “No.”  Her brow furrows, and she meets Sonia’s rusted silver eyes.  “Will you be honest with me?”

“As honest as I can be.”  The crown on Sonia’s head glitters.  She sighs, takes it off, and holds it in her hands, staring at it.  Her thumb runs across a few of the jewels before she sets it to one side.  “I will speak with you as a princess does with her queen, and there shall be nothing between us.”

“You don’t have to—”  Ryoko swallows that down.  She wants answers, doesn’t she?  So maybe she shouldn’t tell Sonia what she should or shouldn’t do.  “Where was I?” she asks instead, trying to meet Sonia’s eyes.  “What happened to me – to…to Junko?”  She licks her lips and then, finally, asks, “Where’s Yasuke?”

Ryoko feels as though she’s been asking that last question so many times every day, but Mikan hasn’t been able to answer it.  Maybe she doesn’t want to answer it, if Hiyoko was right.  Maybe Hiyoko knows him, but Mikan doesn’t.  But that doesn’t make any sense – if Ryoko really is their fearless leader, then Yasuke should be here with them.  It’s just another hole in their argument.  She wouldn’t lead anyone without him.

She wouldn’t.

…not that she really remembers all that much about him.

She just knows.  The way she knows how to breathe or think or speak.  Yasuke should be here with her.  He should.

It’s wrong that he isn’t.

“I do not know this Yasuke of whom you speak,” Sonia says at first.  There’s no hesitation in her voice, so it’s not likely that she’s lying.  Probably.  Ryoko can’t think of a reason why she would be lying, but then, she couldn’t think of a reason why Mikan would lie to her either, but she still suspects….

Well.

Maybe she wasn’t lying.

Just not being entirely forthcoming on what she knows.

That’s not really lying, is it?

“As for where you were,” Sonia begins, clasping her hands together in her lap, “it is…complicated.”  Before Ryoko can ask anything, she continues, “I will be as honest and forthcoming with you as I can.”  Her gaze drifts up and away, and while she focuses, it isn’t on anything in particular.  “You see, we are at war.”

Ryoko blinks in disbelief.  “War?  I would remember a war.”

Sonia smiles again and nearly laughs.  “As our queen, I would hope that you would.  Fortunately, my hope has been dashed, which leaves me in despair’s embrace.  Still, I hope.  For you and you alone, I hope.”

“Uh…okay?”

This isn’t the first time Ryoko’s heard one of the others speak of despair with a sort of reverence.  Mikan had, although she’s certain she wasn’t meant to hear that; Hiyoko hadn’t spoken of it in reverence but as something to cling to, as something that shouldn’t be stolen from her; and even now, Sonia speaks of it with a sense of longing.  It doesn’t make sense to her.  Isn’t hope a good thing?  Isn’t despair a bad thing?

But she’s not going to yuck someone else’s vibe.

“You went deep undercover in enemy territory,” Sonia continues, still staring straight ahead.  “You believed that with a single fell swoop you might, in some capacity, render the rest of our opponents incapable of continuing their fight.  The entire thing was televised, and although the other side made some gains and seemed as though they might defeat you, their general was lost in the battle.  We won.  You won.”  Her brow furrows.  “We believed you would return to us after the battle, but….”  Her voice trails off, and she searches the wall in front of her, searching for something she won’t find.  “I believe the terms of their surrender hinged on your staying with them, and so, you stayed.”

That makes even less sense.

If Junko was queen of this whole other side of a war (queen of the world, if Sonia is to be believed), then why would she surrender herself to the ones who lost the battle?  She should have been able to leave!  Not forced to…to stay.  Unless it was the only way to end the war?  By a compromise?  But the compromise shouldn’t have been her.  Not if she was who these people keep saying she is.  It just doesn’t make any sense!

And besides – it clearly hasn’t ended the war!  Not that Ryoko’s been outside or looked out any of the windows yet or…or anything.  But Sonia said they are at war, not they were at war, which means the war didn’t end the way Junko must have thought that it would.  Junko must have miscalculated; Junko must have been wrong.

But Ryoko doesn’t say any of that.  Instead, she bites on her tongue and waits for Sonia to continue.

“Mikan became convinced that you wanted us to save you.  She said nothing of it to most of us, but over a matter of days, she crafted an elite task force to rescue you from your captors: Kazuichi, Nekomaru, the fool, and herself.”

The fool?  Ryoko’s ears perk up, and she files that away as another question to ask for later.

“The fool disappeared in the process.  I believe he mentioned something to Mikan about another mission, as though any mission might be more important than reclaiming you.”  Sonia’s voice fills with distaste, something replaced with sorrow as she continues.  “Mikan says they found you in a machine of some sort, one which Kazuichi remembered modifying for you but whose use you kept to yourself.  When Nekomaru tore you out, you were already comatose.  Mikan did her best as your personal nurse, but….”

“I’m me,” Ryoko finishes, “not her.”

Sonia gives a small nod.  “I am sure that you are a wonderful person, Ryoko.  You come from somewhere within our queen, after all, somewhere that must be wonderful and innocent and new.”  She tucks strands of platinum hair back behind her ear and finally turns to Ryoko with those paralyzing rusty silver eyes.  “But you are not our queen, and our queen is who we need.  Against her beliefs, against her hope, the war rages on.  We may be her closest compatriots, but we cannot win this war without her.  Do you understand?”

Ryoko feels the weight of Sonia’s stare, the weight of her words.  If she could change herself back, she would, just to get out from under that pressure.  But she can’t just make herself become someone she isn’t.  From the way these people talk about her, she’s still not sure she is Junko, even if her memories come back in full force.  She’s not sure she can be.  Even it’s just for small reasons – pink hair? blue contacts? poking and prodding at her eyes all the time with these sharp nails?  (Nails that, as she looks at them, she still wants to rip off.  She hurt Hiyoko with these nails.  She hurt Mikan, too, and she wasn’t even trying.  Why would she have things like these?)

Before Ryoko can think of anything to say (or thinks of many things to say but no way to frame them), there’s another knock on Sonia’s door.  Sonia’s expression returns to something approximating normal, and she stands, brushes the wrinkles from her dress, and answers the door.  Her cheer returns as she exclaims Mikan’s name, and Ryoko wonders briefly if everything Sonia did was feigned to begin with – not just for Kaz and Mikan, but for her as well.

Ryoko glances up as Mikan enters and searches her eyes.  “Is Hiyoko—”

“She’s fine.”  Mikan holds out her hand.  “I’ve fixed a room for you.”  Then her gaze sweeps in Ryoko’s appearance, and she flushes.  “You look beautifu—”

Sonia doesn’t snort because that’s not befitting a queen, but she interrupts with a harsh breath through her nostrils that might as well be the same thing.  “You say that as though our queen did not prepare a room for herself before she left on her mission.”

Mikan blinks once, gaze focusing on Sonia as Ryoko takes her hand and stands.  “If Junko prepared a room for herself,” she says, “then why did Ryoko need to ask you for clothes?”

All at once, Sonia freezes.

Ryoko’s head tilts.  “If…if Junko – your leader, the person I’m supposed to be….”  Her words trail off as she pierces things together.  “You said Junko planned to come back after that last battle, right?”  She turns to Sonia and waits for her nod before continuing.  “But if…if she doesn’t have a room, then maybe….”  She cuts herself off, heart tightening and choking her before she can get the words out.

(She can’t say it.  She doesn’t want to say it.)

“She was never meant to return to us,” Sonia completes for her, and she looks up, meeting Mikan’s eyes as her own narrow into daggers.  “She was never meant to come back.”

[danganronpa-cyberspace]

-Hinato-Miliani Freetime Event-

[Hinato is practicing his act in the courtyard when Miliani walks in. She sits on a nearby bench, reading a book titled “Slang in Japanese.”

Hinato: [Oooh, cutie spotted at 6 o’clock. She’s…she’s the interpreter. Oh, I have the best idea to make her swoon!]

Hinato: Hey hottie! Over here!

Miliani: Hm?

[As Milani watches, Hinato tosses up his kukai wand, spinning and all, and catches it in his teeth. Milani just shrugs and continues reading.]

Hinato: [Huh?! That was a good trick, come on…]

Hinato: [Alright, alright, maybe just a fluke. Lemme try again.]

Hinato: Heyyyy! I got another one!

Milani: Is that so?

[Hinato spins his kukai wand, and then, tosses it as far as he can in the air, catching it on his foot and tossing it into his hand. But, despite this, Milani didn’t even watch the full trick.]

Hinato: [The fuck?! She didn’t even watch it all the way through! She must be playin’ hard to get.]

Hinato: [Alright, time to pull out the big guns.]

Hinato: Hey, watch just one more time.

Milani: …sure.

[Hinato takes the end of his kukai wand, and blows. Fire spews from the tip, creating a grand fire effect.]

[…Milani nods and keeps reading.]

Hinato: [For the love of god, chick, that was my BEST TRICK!!]

[Hinato storms over to Milani.]

Hinato: Hey, that’s my best move. And you did even blink! What’s up with that?!

Miliani: You ever consider the fact I’m not into you?

Hinato: No, I don’t even wanna think about that, actually.

Miliani: You’re not the Ultimate Lady Killer, you’re an Ultimate Fire Dancer.

Miliani: And last time I checked, Ultimate Fire Dancers are hot.

Hinato: Hot? HOT?! I’m hot!! You see these calves?! These arms?! I’m hotter than the sun.

Hinato: You just gotta find out how spicy I am, baby!

Miliani: I’ll pass.

Hinato: Come on, I’m hot, I swear to ya. I never tell a lie.

Miliani: You just did.

Hinato: You’re playing sooooo hard to get, I love it.

Hinato: But seriously, I’m the Casanova.

Miliani: I’d say sunburn. I’m the Casanova.

Hinato: Okayyyy, among the chicks here, you’re the Casanova. No doubt.

Hinato: But among the mascs…I win, right?

Miliani: Gāisi de…yeah, you win.

Hinato: Ye-

Miliani: But. Asking me to pick the hottest guy from here is like asking me to pick the best American state flag.

Miliani: It’s picking the best out of a pile of novelty t-shirts. There’s no truly good option.

Hinato: [Damn, she’s rough. And honest.]

Hinato: [Sexyyy!]

Hinato: Man, you’re smart. Nah, not smart.

Hinato: Genius.

Miliani: Oh, you’re just saying that because you want me in bed.

Hinato: No, I’m not. I’m sayin’ it as an Ultimate to an Ultimate. You’re brilliant.

Miliani: …gracias.

Hinato: It’s nothin’, sweetie.

Miliani: Don’t call me sweetie.

Hinato: Got it, babe.

Miliani: Call me Miliani.

Hinato: Course, Miliani.

…

Miliani: …okay, you can show me more tricks.

Hinato: Sickkkkk!

Miliani: I just can’t promise I’ll watch them all.

Hinato: Trade off! Get ready to be blown away, Miliani. You’ll experience the flames of the hottest, and most handsome, guy at Hope’s Peak.

[Hinato performed for Milani for as long as he could take, and true to her word, Miliani watched most of the tricks, occasionally stopping to use Japanese slang terms.]

[teacherintransition]

Now? I’m Not Ready for This!

You can choose change, but internal change?

Baby, your mind does its own thing!

The best laid plans of mice and men …finish with cliche of your own choosing. Did you say, “work out fine if carefully planned out?” BUZZ! Not it. Did you say, “often ends in disaster?” Partial credit. Did you say, “have a life of their own?” SPOT ON! Even if the plans work out masterfully, it’s often the happenstance of luck when that happens. By all means, plan carefully, dot your “i’s” and cross your “t’s;” but hold on, it could be a bumpy ride. A new life with new directions apply their own consequences and results without checking with you first.

Endured and survived the pandemic? Yes, but truly lucky on that account. (Knock on wood) Full pension earned and retired? Yes, thank the Lloyd for working in one of the few careers that still offer pensions. Our world held together. My wife resigns from a job she held for thirty three years to travel nurse? Let’s be like Nike and “just do it!” All this wild and crazy guys stuff has worked out well for us, (knock on wood) but what do you do when the change comes from within and you didn’t see it coming? Blindsided. Kim’s third gig ends in early May and we head back to Nac until we leave for Italy in June. When we return in July, she will be on the lookout for gig #4.

Edit Image

You’re thinking, “ohhh,I get it; you’re tired of being away from your home!” Well …not really. In fact, the idea of spending an extended time at Tha Haem an Abode o Tha Rich Fowk isn’t too appealing. We like being in new places, we love our home too; but our time frame isn’t set for this disaffection so early. We have another year or two left traveling before we turn out the lights in Nacogdoches …our home since 1988. This happened gradually. When in Alexandria, we went home every other week. Three weeks overseas, then to Granbury until November. We went home ever four weeks or so while there. Since being in Round Rock, we’ve been home once. I was feeling restless the time we were home from November to January. What is going on here?

Didn’t expect this. I mean it’s kind of a good thing, my heart still has a spirit of adventure and all; but it’s also problematic. We don’t want to feel unhappy every three months, but I, more than the wife, have to maintain focus. What’s the risk? Whats the worry with all of the big changes we’ve made since August of 2020? We didn’t instigate this state of mind and patience is necessary. This is certainly true logistically, but we have to plan carefully. We both know that living out our lives in East Texas is not an option. Our boys are all over the state so nothing is tying us to the Piney woods. This situation presents us and possibly anyone making big life changes with areas of concern. Be patient, slow down, consider all options avoid being impulsive.

I was talking with a friend about this cautious course of action, and I had my own words thrown back at me …it’s ok, it didn’t hurt. My friend said, “aren’t you the live in the moment, throw caution to the wind fellow?” Who me? Yeah, I know it’s me. I’m so glad I’m not alone and have a partner to plan life with and there ya go. I’m not in this alone and we’ve pretty much been on the same page through all of this and that’s the way I’ll keep it. (Knock on wood) Yes, spontaneity is marvelous, but know as close as possible where you’ll land. No man is an island, I’ve got to consider everyone. I’ll advise that to my hearty readers as well. Our family has been so supportive of us, and Kim and I have supported each other’s choices. We haven’t messed up …yet! (Knock on wood) Robert DeNiro’s character in Heat lived by the philosophy, “don’t get attached to anything you aren’t willing to walk out on in thirty seconds if you feel the heat coming around the corner.”* That’s pretty extreme; the life we built and lived deserves more respect and attention. Stick to the schedule, don’t jump the gun, discuss with loved ones, be thankful and considerate of your loved ones and have confidence in your partnership. It’ll be ok.

I’m lucky to have really good friends back in Nacogdoches and I’m lucky to have made new friends on the road. We will work things out together… atta girl.

*Mann, Micheal; Heat; Warner Bros. Studios; 1995

[maybestoryideas]

Out On A Limb - Cater

BZZT-BZZT!

It hasn’t even been a minute since you texted the group, but your phone is already buzzing with activity. You quickly turn it on, expecting to see Ace or Jack’s name and face plastered on the screen. No doubt they’d want to call you and get a better sense of where you are in the forest , even though you don’t have any idea yourself.

Cater Diamond

You blink a few times, just to make sure you’re not misreading the name in front of you. It’s still says Cater. Confused, you answer his call and are greeted by a familiar face smiling back at you on screen.

“Heya, (Name)! How’re ya holding up?”

“I’m… as good as I can be.”

He laughs, “That’s the spirit! We’re searching the woods right now, so it shouldn’t be too long. I figured I may as well check up on you; keep ya company, and all that.”

“‘We’? You’re out here too?”

“Of course! I’d feel terrible if something were to happen to my favorite first-year!”

“Aw, I’m your favorite?”

“Well, that and I’m hoping that I can get a good selfie with you once you’re safe. Someone recorded your flight and put it online, and now you’re trending on Magicam! Pretty great, huh?”

Something tells you that internet fame flies directly in the face of Crowley’s desire to keep your magicless enrollment hidden from the public. But then again, when has Crowley ever been one to uphold standards, least of all his own? 

“So do you have any idea where you are?”

“Nope. All I see are trees and sky.”

“Really?”

“See for yourself…”

You turn the camera around and show him the treeline. There’s a chance, however slim, that Cater would recognize your location. But when you turn it around, his smile just gets a little more sympathetic.

“Wow, you’re really in the middle of nowhere. On the bright side, you’ve got a pretty sweet view from up there. Hey, maybe you can take a few pictures for me? They’d look great on my Magicam!”

“Good to know you’ve got your priorities in order.”

“Sorry, sorry,” he laughed, “For reals, though, you’re already on the top page; people are already replicating your stunt.”

“Any videos showing the landing process?”

“We need to come up with a name for it.” You sit back and let Cater go on, just listening to him talk and laugh. “Maybe something like, ‘Prefect Spiral’? Nah, too punny. Oh, that reminds me! You’re not still using that old phone case I bought you, right?”

“I am… Why wouldn’t I?”

“Seriously? The newest model came out ages ago. How ‘bout we go into town and get you a new one?”

“No way, man! It’s still in good shape.”

“C’mon, we’ll make a day of it; get some lunch, take some photos, do some window shopping…”

“Nope. I’m keeping it.”

“But I can’t let my favorite first-year go walking around with outdated gear! What kind of example would I be setting for the others?”

“Doesn’t matter. You got this for me as a gift; I’m not going to just trade it out for the latest trend.”

There’s a beat of silence. Then another. He smiles. It doesn’t quite reach his eyes, but that makes it harder to look away.

“You really don’t care about what other people think, do you?”

“I wouldn’t go that far. After all, Ace is the reason I’m stuck in a tree right now.”

“But even then, you just do whatever you want.” He smirks, “Like flying over a ravine, for example. No regard for others.”

“As long as no one’s getting hurt. I mean, it’s fun to stop and hear what people have to sayt, but - keeping up with what everybody’s thinking and feeling - doesn’t it get a little tiring?”

“I wouldn’t say that.” he shrugs, “And even if I did, you can just turn it off, and everyone will still be there when you get back!”

You refrain from mentioning how you’ve never seen him turn off his phone without being prompted.

“And what about you? I guess you never get bored or lonely when you’re off on your own.”

“I do, sometimes.” you copy his shrug, “But other times I like being with myself in the moment. Besides, there’s a difference between being lonely and being alone; even if there’s no one around, I know I’ve got friends who’ll be there for me when I need them. Grim, Ace, Deuce…”

You grin.

“You?”

His face goes a little pink, but that might just be a trick of the camera.

“I can’t believe you just said that out loud. That was way too sappy, even for you.”

“You say that but here you are, looking for me…”

It’s not a trick of the camera.

“...And if something ever happens to you, I’ll go looking for you.”

The look Cater gives you is one you’ve only seen a handful of times.  A mix between embarrassed, surprised, and - most notable of all - guilty. 

You’re about to make a witty remark when a gold light catches your eye.

“Hm,” you look up from your phone and out through the trees.

“Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, it just- Looks like the sun’s starting to set.”

“…Probably looks really nice from up there.”

“It does.”

“Lucky…” he pouts childishly. You have half a mind to whine about how unfairly cute it is. “I wish I was there with you.”

“Up in the tree?”

“Yeah.”

His smile lessens even more. You frown.

“Okay, hang on a sec.”

“What’re you doing?”

“Trying to grant a wish.”

You slowly rise to your feet, keeping one hand anchored to the tree while holding out your phone as far as possible. The hand on the trunk quickly grabs onto the nearest branch as you take a step forward, then another, all while sweeping the camera across the landscape. The trees, the sky, the sun, you move as slowly as possible, letting the camera capture all of it. Hopefully it’s enough to make up for not being able to see it first-hand.

Without the speaker right in front of you, it’s hard to hear what Cater’s saying, but you can faintly hear a quiet, “Wow…”

You smile and turn the phone back to you.

“Happy?”

“Yeah, that’s… Is that what you saw when you went off the tower?”

“Kind of. It was only for a split second, but I got to look down while I was cruising. It’s like, when everything gets so small, the problems get small with them.”

“Huh, you might just have to teach me that trick so I can see it for myself.”

“Maybe I wi-”

CRACK!

The branch beneath you jerks.

“(Name)?!”

You move. Fast.

“Don’t worry, it’s okay,”

The base is right in front of you, just a few more steps.

CRAAACK!

The branch is falling.

You reach out and grab onto the snapped end of the tree’s limb. The wood digs into your palms and cracks your nails, but you don’t let go. You can’t let go. Helplessly, you kick your legs through the air in an attempt to find some purchase to kick off from; you don’t have enough strength to pull yourself up.

Just a little more…

You sink your nails deeper, ignoring the stabs of pain that shoot through your fingers, and pull. The jagged end digs into your stomach, but you still can’t do it.

“(NAME)!?”

You hear a voice over the blood rushing through your ears. The same voice you were just talking to. Before you can even say anything, you feel yourself being lifted off of the branch by some invisible force. Instinct tells you to hold on and don’t let go, but you fight back the urge and let yourself slowly float through the air and to the forest floor.

As soon as your feet touch the ground, you collapse onto your knees. Cater’s immediately kneeling beside you.

“Are you okay!? What happened?!” 

“The branch broke…”

You move to stand up, only to have a burning pain radiate from your hands. When you check them, you see bits of wood and dirt embedded into the fleshy meat of your palms. There’s blood already welling from the open cuts and filling the gaps around your fingernails.

“Crap, that looks bad. We need to get you to the infirmary ASAP. Can you stand?”

“Yeah, I think so…”

He gently pulls you to your feet. As you’re still inspecting your injuries, you realize something.

“Um…I think I dropped my phone. Do you see it anywhere?”

The two of you look around before spotting the device lying on the ground a few feet away. He picks it up and you instantly see a noticeable crack in the screen.

“Bad news, I think it’s busted.”

“Great…” you take it, careful not to cut yourself on the cracked glass, “Well, better a broken phone than a broken bone,”

“C’mon, I’ll take you to the infirmary.”

“Thanks…”

You let Cater go ahead, relying on him to lead you out of the woods, only to notice something odd. He’s wearing his PE uniform.

“Cater?”

“Yeah?” he looks back at you with his smile. It’s not as sharp and upbeat as normal, but there’s still something off about it.

“...How many of you are there?”

He blinks. Once, twice, then frowns.

“I think there were at least six of us.”

A heavy feeling settles in the bottom of your stomach.

“Can you lead me back the way you came?”

He shrugs.

“Sure thing.”

Silently you follow behind Cater, all the while tending to your hands as best as possible. Carefully taking out the splinters and debris, and patting the open wounds with the sleeve of your jacket. Thank goodness for black uniforms. You’re so focused on your injuries that you don’t even notice when your guide stops and almost walk right into him.

Looking over his shoulder, you can see Cater, hunched over his phone, frantically tapping the screen and mumbling to himself.

“C’mon, pick up... Pick up. Pick up the stupid phone!”

“Cater?”

Both of them look at you, one with a smile and the others with an expression you’ve never seen before. When you blink, the smiling one is gone, leaving just the two of you.

He’s staring you down and takes slow steps forward. And with every step, you can see more and more. Relieved, sad, scared, guilty; overwhelmed and exhausted.

You give him your softest smile and do your best to hide your hands.

Cater falls on top of you, burying his face into your shoulder and wrapping his arms around you. The feeling in your legs hasn’t completely returned; you stumble back to balance the two of you. One hand’s cradling your head and gently combing through your hair, while the other is gripping your jacket - you can feel the material pull against your arms as he clenches it in his fist.

“Don’t… Ever… Scare me like that again.”

“I’m sorry.”

You slowly bring your arms up to hold him - you’ll help him wash out any blood later. With one hand, you gently draw small circles against his back. He tenses, gripping you tighter before slowly relaxing.

He repeats the motions over and over again. What do you say? How do you comfort him? Do you try to cheer him up or just let him be?

“It's okay. You found me in the end…”

The words only make him hold you closer.

[blueflameart]

Hello!! I hope your day is going well, if it’s not too much could I please get #8 and #12 with Yatora (Blue Period) Thank you <3

“Don’t be so blue”

“C’mere you can sit on my lap till I’m done, Kay?”

“Is that- is that my shirt?”

Prompts

EEE SORRY FOR THE LATE REPLY-

Gender neutral reader

I didn’t know if you wanted me to write this a certain way so I tried my best to like come with this-

I HOPE YOU LIKE IT

Ever since Yatora got into art, all he does it’s sit in his room and draw away. Sketching whatever came into his line of eye sight.

His drawings were beautiful and conveyed a lot of emotions in each piece, but the only problem was, every time you came over, he was so wrapped up in his art, he never gave you any attention.

Only giving you ‘hm,’ ‘ya,’ and ‘uh huh,’ as answers when you talked to him. Obviously you were happy he wanted to turn art into a career and all, but where’s the attention you craved from your boyfriend?

You kicked off your shoes at the door of his home, and greeted his mother. “He’s been in that room all day… I don’t want to disrupt him but it’s worrying me..” she put a hand to her face, concern lacing her voice looking toward the hallway to his room.

“I’ll check on him Mrs. Yaguchi, don’t worry!”

She smiled before turning back around to her previous task. Padding through the hallway and into Yatora’s room you stood behind him, closing the door.

You didn’t want to make a loud noise to startle him but you wanted him to look at you this time. “Yatora” silence, “Yatora,” your repeated his name with nothing in return.

“Hey delinquent”

“Huh?” That grabbed his attention, his head perked up at the nickname, golden eyes peering over his shoulder to look at the person who called him. “Oh Y/n, didn’t hear you come in,” he smiled at you, and closed his eyes that were hidden behind his pale hair.

“I called your name twice yatora..” “oh.”

And obvious pout formed on you lips when he started to turn back to his paper, “Wait..,” he looked over his shoulder again, looking you up and down. “What, what’s wrong? Yatora?” You questioned him when he eyes traced your figure.

“Is that- is that my shirt?” He gulped when he noticed the oversized, loose t-shirt. “Oh ya, you must’ve forgotten it at my place and I mixed it with my laundry.” You chuckled at his blush that spread through his cheeks.

“Here I can give it ba-“ “No no no it’s fine- you can keep it,” yatora stopped you before you could take the shirt off in front of him. “Sorry haha,” you laughed nervously, scratching the back of your neck.

“Can I see what your working on?” You asked when he sat back down at his desk, “of course, but I don’t think I’m even close to finishing.”

You pushed your bottom lip out in another pout, you wanted to spend time with him, not have him ignore you then pass out on his desk. Yatora looked at your face and laughed at your expression.

“C’mere you can sit on my lap till I’m done, Kay?”

Peeking up at his words you immediately walked over to him and settled down comfortably onto his lap. Yatora held your waist when you hid your face in his neck. Sighing out in comfort to finally be in his embrace was exactly what you had been longing for.

Eventually you fell asleep to the sound of his breathing and the pencil on paper, when he got tired he picked you up, wrapping you legs around his waist and gently setting you in the bed. He held you close to his chest while slowing drifting off to sleep himself.